Kari searched for more information about Sterling's family and business operations. Charles Sterling, age 58, widower. Wife Catherine had died in a construction site accident two years ago. One daughter, Rebecca Sterling, age 26.
She found a photo from a society page article about Catherine Sterling's memorial service—Charles and Rebecca standing together, both looking devastated. Rebecca had her mother's delicate features and dark hair, her father's height and commanding presence.
Kari clicked through more articles. Rebecca Sterling had graduated from ASU with a degree in social work, worked for various nonprofit organizations, seemed to keep a relatively low profile despite her family's wealth. There were a few photos of her at charity events, always looking polished but never quite comfortable with the attention.
No indication that Rebecca was involved in her father's business. No obvious connection to the murders.
But she was Sterling's daughter. She'd have access to his files, his communications, his business associates. She'd know the victims. She might know about the illegal practices.
She'd have motive to commit the murders. Or, on the other hand, she could be another potential victim, someone who knew too much.
Kari checked the time. Ten-thirty PM. Late to be making house calls, but the Sterling family needed to be warned. And Kari wanted to see Charles Sterling's reaction when confronted with questions about the illegal construction practices.
She grabbed her jacket and keys and headed out.
The Sterling house was in Paradise Valley, not far from where the other victims had lived. The GPS led her through increasingly expensive neighborhoods until she reached a gated property with high walls and sophisticated security cameras visible even from the street.
Kari pulled up to the intercom and pressed the button.
"Yes?" A male voice, wary.
"Detective Kari Blackhorse, Navajo Nation Police, consulting on the Paradise Valley murders. I need to speak with Charles Sterling."
"Mr. Sterling isn't taking visitors. He's already given a full statement to Phoenix PD."
"This is regarding new evidence that suggests he and his family might be targets. I need five minutes of his time."
"Hold on."
Kari waited. After a few minutes, the voice returned.
"Mr. Sterling appreciates your concern but maintains that all communication should go through Phoenix PD and his attorney. He's not receiving visitors at this time."
"This concerns information about illegal construction practices at the Sunset Ridge Resort. Information that three people were killed to keep secret."
Another long pause. "Mr. Sterling has no comment on that matter. Please direct all inquiries through proper channels. Good night, Detective."
The intercom went silent.
Kari sat in her Jeep, frustrated. Sterling was hiding behind his walls and his security, refusing to engage. Whether that was because he was scared or because he was guilty, she couldn't tell from here.
She was about to pull away when the gate suddenly opened and a car emerged, a sleek BMW sedan. As it passed under the security light, Kari caught a glimpse of the driver: a young woman with dark hair pulled back.
Rebecca Sterling.
On impulse, Kari rolled down her window. "Ms. Sterling?"
The BMW stopped. After a moment, the window rolled down, and Rebecca Sterling looked at her with cautious curiosity. Up close, she was striking—her mother's delicate bone structure, dark intelligent eyes, an expression that mixed wariness with concern.
"Can I help you?" Rebecca asked.
"Detective Kari Blackhorse. I'm investigating the murders connected to the Sunset Ridge Resort."
"Ah." Rebecca sounded tired. "What do you want?"
"I'm concerned that your father might be a target. The three victims were all connected to the resort—"
"I know. The police have already told us that Thomas Hatathli is in custody, that we're safe now." Her tone, however, suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.
