One of them turned to Roberto and said, “Nice work.”
“It wasn’t me,” he replied.
Casey wasn’t surprised that none of the women spoke to her. Word had gotten around that she was helping Marie find the killer, and staff had started avoiding her. Not everyone wanted their alibis investigated by a colleague. A handful of curious employees kept asking Casey what she knew. Those were the people she’d started to avoid. Still, the truth had to come out. Secrets and lies had a way of piling so high that, sooner or later, they’d topple. The larger the stack, the more harmful the crash. Her parents’ deceptions had taught her that.
“Who else is on the suspect list in your pool?” Casey asked.
“Jasmine’s half sister, Gabrielle. Marie told us some nasty things about her.”
The big mouth had been busy. “Did Jasmine say anything about Gabrielle’s visit the Sunday before she died?”
“I didn’t even know her half sister was in town until Marie told me a couple of days ago.”
“Did you notice any irritability in Jasmine before her death?”
“Jasmine was her usual sweet self.” Roberto watched the clerks head for their cars.
Sweet self? Hadn’t he heard about her and Jasmine’s nasty exchange on the stairwell the day before she died? On the other hand, Jasmine had been friendly with Roberto the same morning.
“Roberto, did you ever take any photos of Jasmine?”
He smirked. “Why, do you want one for your album?”
“Funny; I saw a picture of her recently and was wondering who the photographer was.”
“Maybe it was professionally done.”
“No, she looked asleep in her bed.”
Roberto’s eyebrows shot up. “Freaky.” He took another bite of his apple. “We never talked about her love life. Just went dancing and out for beers.” He glanced at Casey. “You know me. Never serious, always moving on.”
Casey knew about Roberto’s commitment phobia, and how it often clashed with his inability to be alone. Therapists could build careers on Roberto’s relationship issues. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d slept with Jasmine.
Behind them a familiar voice said, “Miss Holland, why are you interrogating my staff?”
Casey and Roberto turned to find David Eisler standing by the hood of her car. His arms were crossed and his pinched mouth formed a thin line on his perma-tan face. How long had the jerk been eavesdropping?
“We’re just chatting,” Roberto said.
Casey knew Roberto didn’t like the VP. Eisler probably didn’t like him either.
“Are you aware that Miss Holland’s helping Mrs. Crenshaw look for a suspect to replace her brother?”
“Not at Mainland,” Casey replied.
Lou joined them, his expression wary as he looked at Eisler and Roberto.
“I don’t want you asking employees about Jasmine.” Eisler glared. “Understand?”
Was he afraid of the truth? “Yes.” Casey bit back her anger as she accepted the fresh pack from Lou.
“Roberto, I want that sign gone today, is that clear?”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I don’t care. You work in the garage, so get rid of it.” He charged inside the building.
“What flew up his ass?” Roberto asked, turning to Lou. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going.”
Casey wondered why he was staring at Roberto’s apple. Why was Lou avoiding eye contact with him? These two were buddies.
“Do you guys think Noel’s innocent?” Roberto asked.
“Don’t know,” Lou answered.
Roberto moved closer to Casey. “You aren’t really digging for dirt on the guys Jasmine was seeing, are you?”
“No.”
“Then why were you asking me about photos and Jasmine’s mood and stuff?”
“Just curious. You know what I’m like.”
“Don’t start playing games, okay?” Roberto’s voice was quiet.
“I’m not.” Casey placed the cold pack on her bump. “You came up to me, remember?”
“Maybe that was a mistake.” He started to leave, but stopped. “If you want to play detective, then check out Eisler’s alibi. Remember when I got back from the root canal that morning and you wouldn’t tell me what was going on?”
“Yeah.” She still felt bad about that.
“Well, I saw him barrelling into this lot just after you took off, acting all nervous and scoping the place out like he was worried about being seen. He sure didn’t look happy when he saw me watching him.” Roberto tossed his apple on the ground. “Makes you wonder, don’t it?”
Roberto marched to his Corvette. In the decade she’d known Roberto, he’d never been angry with her, and she felt bad for making a friend feel like a suspect. Casey sighed as she watched him peel out of the yard.
“He has no right to judge you or David,” Lou said, “especially when he just lied.”
“What?”
“He couldn’t have had a root canal that morning.” Lou looked at the discarded apple. “I saw him eating an apple right after he got to work. Just thought about it when I saw him toss that one.”
“As soon as he got out of his car, he asked me where Jasmine was.” She lowered the cold pack. “Think I should tell someone?”
“I guess.” He turned to the sign. “I find it hard to believe Robert would . . .” He shook his head.
Casey placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll phone Lundy, though he might want to talk to you.”
“Whatever.”
She knew Lou hated the thought of ratting on a friend as much as she did. Yet this wasn’t about swiping office supplies, or using Mainland’s computers for personal reasons. This was murder.
TWELVE
RELIEF SWEPT THROUGH CASEY. SHE was moments away from a hot bath and her comfy bed. When she turned off Violet Street and saw the familiar green Subaru parked behind her home, relief vanished. What the hell was Summer’s grandmother doing here on a Wednesday? Winifred always came by on Sundays. Anxiety propelled Casey out of her car and up the steps. When she flung open the back door, the smell of frying liver and onions made her gag.
“Finally home, are you?” Winifred removed two dinner plates from the cupboard.
“It was a tough shift.” If Winifred was cooking, things couldn’t be that serious. “What brings you here? Is Summer okay?”
“No, my granddaughter is not getting proper care.”
Casey tossed her purse and cold pack on the kitchen table. “Where is she?”
“In her room, presumably doing homework like I told her to.” Winifred picked up a wooden spoon and began stirring the food.
Summer hated doing homework before supper. “What’s happened?”
Winifred smacked the spoon on the stove, and then turned around. “Her principal called. It seems that Summer left the grounds at lunchtime without permission and didn’t return.”
“He should have called me.”
“Apparently, your cell phone wasn’t on.”
Oh, hell. She’d shut it off before she boarded the M10. The ride was short and the job had required her full attention. Besides, Summer was supposed to have been in school. She turned the phone back on.
“What did Summer say about it?”
“That she’d been in a park with those delinquents she calls friends, and I could smell the smoke on her.”
Casey stared at the tall, scowling woman. “Summer’s friends smoke, but she doesn’t. We talked about it last Sunday.”
