The Carson Springs Trilogy: Stranger in Paradise, Taste of Honey, and Wish Come True (119 page)

“Looks like you do now.”

Laura had said something about a lawyer, but Anna hadn’t expected her to come through so quickly. How long since they’d spoken—minutes, hours? She’d lost all track of time. Or maybe it had lost track of her.

She rose on legs that felt oddly elasticized, stretching up, up until she felt as if she were floating several inches off the floor. The door to her cell slid open with a clang. As she stepped out into the corridor, he took her elbow, not to keep her from bolting but in a courtly gesture that unexpectedly moved her to tears. He guided her past the empty cell next to hers, ushering her into the visitors’ room just beyond. She found a middle-aged woman with blunt graying hair seated at the table that took up most of the bare, windowless space. She rose, gripping Anna’s hand.

“Rhonda Talltree. Laura said you might need a lawyer.”

Anna’s first impression was of great height, but Rhonda was more physically imposing than tall: broad shoulders and a generous bosom tapering to narrow hips, with muscular arms that looked quite capable of wrestling poor Benny to the floor—an impression her jeans and cowboy boots did nothing to dispel. Anna recalled that Rhonda was the one who’d handled Laura’s divorce.

“Thanks for coming,” Anna said. It was all she could manage at the moment.

“Sorry it took so long,” Rhonda said. “I was in the middle of something when she called.” Up close, Anna saw that her hair had as much black in it as gray. A pair of silver and turquoise earrings swung like pendulums from her ears. “By the way, she sends her love.”

“She’s not coming?” Anna felt crushed, like a child who’d been expecting her mother to pick her up from school only to have a stranger show up instead.

“Relax—she’s just down the hall. I thought it’d be best if we spoke in private first.” Rhonda dismissed Benny with a crisp nod before sitting down. “But first I should tell you I don’t specialize in criminal defense. If you’d like, I could give you some names.”

Anna shook her head. “Laura picked you for a reason,” she said, sinking into the chair opposite Rhonda’s.

Rhonda smiled, showing beautiful white teeth. “I was a deputy D.A. in Ventura for fifteen years—with a pretty impressive conviction rate, I might add—so I know the territory. Except I’m used to locking people up, not the other way around.”

“But I’m innocent. As soon as we clear this up—”

“Whoa.” Rhonda held out a work-roughened hand adorned by a silver and turquoise ring the size of a walnut. “The good news is there’s no smoking gun. The bad news is you aren’t going anywhere so fast. Not until after the arraignment.”

Anna’s heart sank. This wasn’t going to be over anytime soon. “What happens then?”

“You’ll enter a plea and if all goes well you’ll be released on bail.”

“You mean there’s a chance I might not be?” Panic closed about her like a sweaty fist.

Rhonda reached across the table to lay a reassuring hand on her arm. “I promise I’ll do my best.”

Anna thought of something that pushed her panic up another notch. “I can’t afford to pay you.”

“We’ll worry about that later on.” Rhonda bent to retrieve a yellow legal pad from the well-worn briefcase at her feet. “First, let’s get one thing straight. If I’m to represent you, I’ll need
all
the facts, no holding back.” She eyed her sternly, and Anna realized Rhonda wasn’t taking anything for granted.

“I have nothing to hide,” she said.

“Okay. Let’s start with the night in question.”

“I was home.”

“Any witnesses to that effect?”

She shook her head. “I live alone.”

Rhonda scribbled something on her pad. “When did you last see your sister alive?”

“Around four-thirty that afternoon.”

“I understand you worked for her.” Laura must have given her the lowdown.

“Actually, it was my last day.” Struck by the irony, Anna gave in to a small smile.

Rhonda raised a brow. “Was she upset that you were leaving?”

“She wasn’t happy about it, no.” Anna sighed, pushing a hand through her hair as she struggled to summon the memory she’d spent the past few days trying to block out. “We’d had words earlier in the day. It got a little heated at one point.”

“Did you threaten her?”

“No, of course not.”

“So as far as you know she had no reason to tell her agent that you were out to get her?”

Anna reeled as though slapped. “Where did you hear
that
?”

“I have a cousin on the force.” Rhonda lowered her voice, mindful of Benny on the other side of the door. “Carlos Vasquez. You know him?”

The name was familiar. “He was out at the house once or twice.” When Rhonda looked at her blankly, she added, “My mother has a tendency to wander off.” And she’d thought Betty was her biggest worry. “So they really think I killed her?”

“It looks that way.”

“I don’t understand. How—?”

“In addition to an e-mail sent to her agent in which she claims to have felt threatened by you, there’s also evidence linking you to the crime.”

Anna’s fevered mind spun. “That’s impossible. I told you, I was nowhere near—”

“What can you tell me about Gardener Stevens?” Rhonda cut her off.

“He’s Monica’s lawyer. Why?”

“It seems that on the day she died, your sister made an appointment to see him about her will. According to Mr. Stevens, she was planning to disinherit you. As it stands, you and your sister Elizabeth will each inherit a quarter of the estate.”

“It’s Liz,” Anna corrected, too numb to absorb what Rhonda was saying.

“Did you know anything about this?”

“That I was in her will? Monica mentioned something awhile back.” Though with her you could never be sure—she’d used money like a carrot on a stick. Anna’s only concern had been that Betty would be taken care of. “But even if I’d known she was going to cut me out, I wouldn’t have tried to stop her.”

“Even so, this leaves you a wealthy woman.”

A hot, choking anger momentarily eclipsed Anna’s panic. “Are you suggesting I killed her for the money?”

“Relax. I’m on your side.”

Anna eyed her warily. “You could’ve fooled me.”

Rhonda leaned forward. “This is only a small taste of what you’ll be getting from the DA.” Her dark eyes fixed on Anna with an intensity that made her flinch. “If you can’t take the heat, you won’t last a minute on the witness stand—if it comes to that.”

Anna drew a trembling hand over her face. “I’m sorry. I’m just … it’s been a long day.”

“Understandable. Now, where were we … yes, the will. The prosecution is going to paint you as a desperate woman. Your mother’s in a nursing home and you’re struggling to make ends meet. To top it off, you just lost your job and your rich sister’s planning to cut you out of her will.” Rhonda paused to let it sink in.

Beneath her forbidding gaze, Anna sensed a compassion that was kept under wraps for reasons that had been lost on her a minute ago but which she now understood—it was of little value in these circumstances.

The enormity of it swept over her in a chilling wave. “So I’m guilty until proven innocent; is that what you’re saying?”

“Not quite. The burden of proof is still on the prosecution, and as far as I can see, what they have is mainly circumstantial.” Her gaze dropped to Anna’s arm. “Want to tell me about those scratches?”

Anna self-consciously lowered her arm into her lap. “They’re from my cat.”

“I know that’s what you told the police.”

Looking into Rhonda’s flat, disbelieving gaze, Anna felt stupid. What had she expected to gain from lying? In a voice barely above a whisper, she admitted, “Okay, it was Monica. But it was an accident—she was drunk and fell out of her chair. I was helping her up and—” She lifted her arm to show the barely healed scratches extending from the inside of her elbow to her wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell that to the police?”

“I didn’t want them to think …” She drew in a ragged breath. “It was my job to protect her.”

“That’s not how it’d look to a jury.”

Anna felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. “You … you really think it’ll come to that?”

“Unless we cut a deal, which would mean you pleading to a lesser charge.” Rhonda’s black eyes bored into her. “But before we go any further, there’s something I need to know. Did you harm Monica in any way … even unintentionally?”

“No!” Anna realized she’d spoken too sharply and lowered her voice. “I mean, we’d had our differences. And I’ll admit things got a little hairy at the end. But I
never
…” She broke off, bringing a loose, trembling fist to her mouth.

“Can you think of anyone else who might have wanted her dead—ex-husbands, former lovers, disgruntled employees?”

“It’s a long list.” Anna gave in to a small, bleak smile. “My sister …” She hesitated, not wanting to speak ill of the dead. “Let’s just say she wasn’t very well liked.” Glenn didn’t count; he’d been spared the brunt of her wrath. “But no one hated her enough to kill her, not that I know of, anyway.”

“Okay. Let’s back up a little.” Rhonda leaned forward on her elbows, hands clasped in front of her as in prayer. “You said you left your sister’s around four-thirty that afternoon. Did you drive straight home?”

“Yes.”

“No stopping for gas or groceries?”

Anna shook her head. If only she’d known, she’d have filled her tank, run all her errands, and stuffed her face at Wendy’s where everyone could see.

“I asked Laura if she could vouch for you,” Rhonda went on, her mouth stretching in a humorless smile. She didn’t have to say it: Laura would have done anything for her except lie in court. “Not that it would prove anything even if she had seen you. You could have driven back to your sister’s later on.”

Anna slumped back in her chair. “I was tired. I went to bed early.”

“Other than that, how were you feeling?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“You weren’t angry at Monica?”

“Not really, no.”

“Even though you’d had words?”

“I was used to it,” Anna said. “She had a temper, but it usually blew over pretty quickly.”

She saw something flicker in Rhonda’s eyes. Disbelief? Disgust? She glanced once more at her notes. “According to the coroner’s report, her blood alcohol level at the time of death was point one three five. That’s more than twice the legal limit. You weren’t worried about leaving her alone in that state?”

Anna waited for the usual guilt to kick in, but all she felt was shame for having put up with Monica for as long as she had. “It wasn’t the first time.”

“Laura mentioned that she’d been in rehab.”

Anna nodded. “It was only in the past few weeks that I noticed she was drinking again.” A deep sorrow welled up in her. It was one thing for Monica to have died so horribly, but for her to have been drunk at the time seemed the ultimate indignity. “I guess the pull was too strong.”

“Tell me about it. I work with FAS kids—I teach them to ride. That’s where I was when Laura called.”

FAS—fetal alcohol syndrome. Anna supposed she ought to be grateful they’d been spared that at least; Monica had never wanted children.

“I’ve gotten to know some of the mothers,” Rhonda went on. “Even the ones who eventually get sober are reminded constantly of how they fucked up.” She smiled grimly. “Your sister must’ve been pissed that you’d stopped picking up the pieces.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Anna said with a sigh.

“Was that why you quit?”

“Among other things.” Anna hesitated, not sure it was worth mentioning. “I used to be fat. I think Monica liked me better that way.”

“Let me guess; she wasn’t the center of attention anymore?”

“Something like that.” The recent incident with Glenn in the pool house reared its ugly head, but she quickly pushed it away; she didn’t want to think about that right now.

“That might explain why she felt threatened. Things can get twisted in people’s minds, especially when large quantities of alcohol are involved.”

Anna shook her head. “I wish now I’d handled it differently. If I’d stayed the night, she might still be alive.”

“Or it might be your funeral instead.”

Anna felt a chill travel up her spine. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might have been targeted as well. “Do the police have any other leads?”

“They found signs of a trespasser—some footprints in the dirt by the outer wall. But there’s no way of determining how long they’d been there.” This wasn’t news to Anna; she’d been over it all with the police. They hadn’t pursued it for precisely that reason—it rained so infrequently in Carson Springs, the prints could’ve been weeks old.

Still, she asked, “Do you think there’s anything to it?”

“Hard to say. There wasn’t a trace of anything tracked onto the patio or into the house. No sign of forced entry either.”

“Which puts us back at square one.”

“Was she expecting any visitors that night?”

“Not that I know of.” Glenn occasionally dropped by on short notice, but with anyone else it would’ve been on the calendar.

“All right, I’ll nose around a bit and see what I can find out.” Rhonda tucked the pad back into her briefcase. “In the meantime, I’d like you to put together a list of names. Anyone you can think of who might know something … or be involved.”

Anna closed her eyes, trying to shut out the image that filled her head: Monica floating facedown in the pool, her limbs pale as water lilies against the dark fabric that billowed about her lifeless form. She shuddered. No, she couldn’t think of anyone who’d hated her sister that much.

She jerked at the sound of Rhonda’s chair scraping back.

“I’ll let you know as soon as the hearing is scheduled. We’ll talk more then,” her lawyer said.

Anna’s mind leaped ahead. “Oh, God. The funeral. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

“We should have you out on bail by then.” Rhonda put a hand on her arm, steadying her the way Anna imagined she would a fearful child on horseback. “Try not to worry too much. And get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Sleep? Anna had forgotten what that was. Every time she started to drift off, the nightmare images would loom. But all she said was, “I’ll do my best.”