“There was no mention of Donna’s being a relative in any of the discussions I heard,” Ali said. “When Serenity talked about her it was as a long-term employee, but not as a relative. There was even some mention about letting her go.”
“In other words,” Maria Salazar said, pulling into a parking garage, “Donna’s a charity case. She’s the poor relation who’s allowed to have a job, but she’s also expected to know her place in the family pecking order. Sounds like a possible motive to me.”
Ali and Maria Salazar exited the unmarked Crown Victoria.
“So here’s how we’re going to play it,” Detective Salazar said as they walked through the lobby and toward the elevator. “So far Donnelley has done an incredible job of keeping the lid on all this. McGregor’s ID has not yet been given out, pending notification of next of kin. Your involvement has yet to be made public, either. Did Donna ever see you in the waiting room?”
“She may have,” Ali said, “but I looked different.”
Detective Salazar smiled again. “Right,” she said. “I heard. The infamous red wig.”
“Most of the people in the room assumed I was part of another patient’s group of visitors,” Ali added. “Nobody there paid much attention to me. There’s a good chance Donna didn’t, either.”
“Let’s hope,” Detective Salazar said. “Now, as far as the interview is concerned, she’s only a person of interest, but you and I are going to pretend that McGregor gave her up. We’ll see what that gets us. With any kind of luck, we’ll be able to provoke her into doing something stupid. By the way, are you carrying?”
Ali nodded. “I doubt your supervisors know I’m doing an armed ride-along on this one.”
“Don’t worry about my supervisors,” Maria Salazar said. “Bishop Gillespie has the ability to pull any number of strings. I believe he’s already pulled several.”
Ali believed it, too.
They rode the elevator in silence. Arriving at the sixth floor, they found their way through a maze of corridors to the office marked Pan American Escrow. While they were still outside in the hallway, Maria Salazar produced a tiny tape recorder. After switching it on and re-stowing it in her pocket, the detective pushed open the door and flashed her badge in the direction of the young woman seated at the reception desk.
“We’re here to see Donna Carson,” she said brusquely.
“I’m sorry. She’s involved in a signing. Her escrow officer has asked that they not be disturbed.”
“This is police business,” Maria insisted. “Which way?”
The receptionist capitulated. She pointed. “That way,” she said. “The conference room at the end of the hall.”
The conference room telephone was ringing as Ali and Detective Salazar reached the door. Before anyone had a chance to answer, Maria flung open the door and marched inside with Ali on her heels.
The escrow officer’s name tag identified her as Louise Wilson. She and Donna Carson were seated side by side at a large conference table. Two separate stacks of documents were spread out in front of them. Louise was just reaching out to answer the ringing phone when Detective Salazar stopped her.
“Don’t bother,” the detective said. “That’s just your receptionist calling to let you know we were on our way.”
After two more rings the phone fell silent.
“Who are you?” Louise demanded. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing. I’m calling the police!”
“We are the police,” Detective Salazar responded, flashing her badge. Then she turned her attention to Donna Carson. “Is this her?” she asked Ali.
“Yes,” Ali said.
Now it was Donna’s turn to object. “Who are you?” she demanded, looking from Detective Salazar to Ali. Her face revealed no sign of recognition as far as Ali was concerned. “What do you want?
“You’re Donna Elizabeth Carson?” Detective Salazar confirmed.
“Yes, I am, but can’t you see we’re busy here?”
The escrow officer stuffed the two stacks of documents into a file folder. “Just give me a minute, Ms. Carson,” she said. “I’ll get rid of them.”
“No, you won’t,” Detective Salazar said. “We’re not going anywhere.” She pointed at a chair. “Sit,” she ordered. Without further objection, the escrow officer sat.
“What’s this all about?” Donna asked.
“It’s about two attempted homicides that occurred northeast of here yesterday afternoon. You’re a person of interest in those two cases, Ms. Carson, along with another incident that happened earlier this week in Camp Verde. We need you to tell us where you were yesterday afternoon, and what you were doing.”
Donna paled slightly. “This is ridiculous,” she said, rising. “I was at work yesterday afternoon. My employer’s mother was in the hospital, where she died early yesterday evening. I spent most of the afternoon there with them. Serenity Langley will verify I was there, so will her brother.”
“Sit,” Maria said again, this time pointing a finger at Donna Carson. With a put-upon sigh she, too, subsided into her chair.
“That would be at Saint Gregory’s Hospital?” Maria asked.
“Yes,” Donna said. “The burn unit. On the eighth floor.”
“So are you acquainted with Sister Anselm, a Sister of Providence who was working as a patient advocate there?”
Donna shook her head. “I might have seen her. I’m sure I’ve heard the name, but I don’t believe I ever met her.”
There was the tiniest tremor in the corner of her eyes when she gave that answer. Ali suspected that Donna was telling the truth, sort of. Perhaps she and Sister Anselm had never been formally introduced, but Donna Carson knew who Sister Anselm was and what she did.
“I suppose we should read her her rights,” Maria said casually to Ali. “Just in case she turns into a suspect.”
“Right,” Ali said agreeably. “Just in case.”
Maria recited the Miranda warning from memory. Ali waited until the Mirandizing was complete. Ali expected Donna to demand an attorney at that point. When she didn’t, Ali posed another question.
“What did you do with Mimi Cooper’s watercolor?” she asked. “We know what happened to the fake Paul Klee. What happened to the real one?”
“What painting?” Donna demanded in return. “I don’t have any idea what painting you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” Ali insisted. “You stole Mimi’s Klee months ago, when you took it out for reframing. You replaced it with a fake. The two house fires in Camp Verde were supposed to get rid of the evidence. So what’s your connection to Thomas McGregor?” Ali asked. “How did you persuade him to help you?”
Donna had been warned that anything she said could be held against her, but apparently she wasn’t listening.
“I didn’t have to persuade him,” she said dismissively. “He offered to help me. He wanted to help me. He hated those people as much as I do.”
A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Detective Salazar’s mouth, but she said nothing.
“What people did he hate?” Ali continued. “Sister Anselm? Mimi Cooper? What did they ever do to you, or to him? You still haven’t said what you did with the real Paul Klee. Where is it?”
“It’s on its way somewhere you’ll never find it,” Donna answered. “You’ll never get it back. Neither will Serenity or Win. It’s mine. All mine.”
Donna sounded like a petulant little girl, frustrated because she hadn’t been allowed to have her own way and had been forced to share some beloved toy. She didn’t sound the least bit like someone capable of planning and executing a cold-blooded murder.
But if she’s damaged goods, Ali thought, if her uncle took advantage of her…
Ali decided to tackle that delicate subject head-on.
“Why did you do this?” she asked. “Why are you lashing out at Winston Langley’s family? Is it because your uncle molested you? Was he your lover?”
For a moment Donna stared at Ali in openmouthed amazement. “My lover!” Donna exclaimed. “Are you kidding? That bastard was never my lover.”