“That’s what we’re here for,” Barnes said.
“Yeah, right!” Minette dried her eyes with a tissue. “You guys are quick with traffic tickets, but if I told anyone I was scared, I bet not one cop would have come out to see me.”
She had a point, Barnes thought.
Amanda said, “You must have really felt alone.”
“I did.”
“So then what did you do?” Barnes prompted.
“I called the cops and told them that our place had been tossed. I needed people to stop already with Davida and focus on me. She was dead, but I wasn’t.”
Minette’s egotism took neither detective by surprise, but her admission did.
“In the future,” Barnes said, “if you feel scared again, there are people who can help you and you don’t have to fib to get them to talk to you.”
“That’s all it was meant to be,” she sobbed. “A stupid fib because I was desperate! Am I in trouble?”
“You filed a false police report,” Barnes said, “so that could be trouble, yes. But I think the judge will take into consideration your circumstances.”
Minette nodded. “I should probably contact my lawyer.”
“Probably,” Amanda said. “If you can’t afford one, the county will give you one free of charge.”
“I’m okay with money.” She stood up on wobbly feet. “Can I call my lawyer now?”
“First, we need to read you your rights.”
Minette sat through the beginning of the routine, numb, inert. When Barnes got to the part about an attorney being provided, she said, “You just said that. I know all of it anyway from TV. I watch a lot of TV because she left me all the time.”
“She’s vain and egotistical and self-centered,” Barnes said once they returned to the other side of the one-way mirror. “But the real question is, did she murder Davida? We went through her house and her clothes. No blood-spattered clothing, nothing with gunpowder residue, no shoes with trace evidence of blood or carpet fiber. No gun registration and there’s no evidence that she’s owned an illegal firearm.”
“She could have hired someone.”
“Why would she want Davida dead?”
“Because she was cheating on her. Because Davida left her alone once too often.”
“Minette dealt with that,” said Barnes. “Doing her own cheating.”
“Minette is a selfish little bitch who probably flew into a narcissistic rage when she found out that Davida had someone on the sly.”
“Okay, so you like her.”
Amanda’s smile was weary.
Barnes said, “You really like her for it?”
“No, but I don’t want to rule her out. She’s unstable and she knew Davida’s habits better than anyone.”
No sense belaboring the subject. “Are you coming to Sacramento with me tomorrow?”
“Of course. Why are you even asking?”
“The memorial’s scheduled the day after the funeral. I set up the interview with Lucille Grayson for when it’s over.” Barnes smiled like a cat with feathers in his teeth. “Is that okay?”
“What’s on your mind, Willie?”
“After the funeral, I’m going to Don Newell’s place for dinner at five thirty.”
She stared at him. “And I’m not invited.”
“I can get you invited.”
“But…”
“It’s up to you.”
“But you didn’t mention me the first time around.”
“It was more of a social thing- old-boy barbecue.”
Amanda whistled. “Oh, man. First high school buds, then Jane Meyerhoff, then this. Maybe you’d like to take over the entire case by yourself?”
“C’mon, Amanda, don’t be- ”
“You think I’m losing my touch? I was the one who just got Minette to confess to the break-in.”
Barnes had seen that as teamwork. He said, “That was great, but with Donnie Newell, there might be things I can- he might be uncomfortable talking in front of you.”
“Good-old-boy sex talk?”
“Woman talk,” said Barnes. “Specifically his relationship to Davida.”
“While you’re with him, I could talk to the wife who hated Davida. Or is she too hysterical and weak to pull it off?”
“I thought about that, Mandy, I really did. But then instead of the dinner being a friendly invitation, and the boys retiring for a cigar, it’s too much like a cop interview. You know, you take one, I take the other.”
He was making sense, although Amanda hated to admit it. “If you exclude me from anything one more time, I’m walking. This is a partnership, remember?”
“Mandy, you know how much respect I have for you- ”
“Don’t go there, Will. I’m too pissed off for condescension.”
“Look, I really do respect your opinion. As a matter of fact, I took your advice.”
She regarded him with narrowed eyes. “What advice?”
“You know…me and Marge Dunn. I rented a convertible. We’re going to drive through Napa and Sonoma, do a couple of tastings.”
Actually, Barnes hadn’t prepared a damn thing but Amanda’s idea had been a good one, and it seemed like a dandy time to tell her. “Any idea if there’s a cheese shop en route? I think a cheese, fruit and wine picnic would be great. You agree?”
Amanda sighed. “Actually, I do have an address. Also, try The Olive Press near Sonoma. And if she’s still tolerating you by the end of the day, I’ve got some dinner recommendations.”
“That would be super- ”
“Now cut the crap and rent that car and stop bullshitting me. I’m still pissed, Will.”
“I know you are. How about coffee at Melanie’s? I’ll pay.”
She cracked up. “You think you can get me to come around with a measly mocha latte?”
“Lunch?”
“You’re getting warmer.”
“Chez Panisse? I know one of the waitresses, maybe if it’s slow- ”
“Thanks, love to.” Amanda smiled. “I’ll pull out the car while you check your wallet.”
19
Though she had no children, Davida Grayson had left behind a legacy. Her lust for life, her obsession with justice for the underclass, her dogged pursuit of righteousness were iterated and reiterated by each speaker. Those who eulogized her knew her well enough to make it sound real. Everyone pledged not to let Davida’s dream of creating a new stem-cell line perish with her.