"Are you involved in your father's business?" Kari asked.
Rebecca frowned. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I believe that anyone connected to his business, anyone privy to the company's inner workings, might be in danger."
"Well, I should be okay then. I'm a social worker, Detective. I work with foster families and adoption services. My father's... 'construction empire' isn't my world." There was distance in hervoice, a clear boundary being established. "We don't exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things."
Rebecca glanced back at the house behind her, its windows glowing warm against the dark. "I told him not to build the resort project. Told him it was wrong to destroy those petroglyphs, that no amount of money was worth erasing history like that. But my father doesn't listen to me about business decisions."
"Do you know the victims? Garrison, Hoffman, Sheridan?"
"I met them a few times at my father's functions. Business dinners, that sort of thing. I didn't know them personally." Rebecca flexed her hands on the steering wheel, clearly eager to get going. "Look, Detective, I appreciate that you're being thorough, but I really need to go. I've been cooped up in that house all day, and I need some space."
"Where are you going this late?"
"To a friend's place. Somewhere I can breathe without security cameras watching my every move." Rebecca started to raise her window, then paused. "If you want to know about my father's business dealings, you should probably talk to Diana. She knows more about all of that than I do."
"Diana?"
"Diana Gray. My father's..." Rebecca's expression soured, "lady friend. She's been around for about six months now, always at the house, always involved in his business discussions. If anyone knows what's really going on with the resort project, it's her."
"How can I reach her?"
"Just tell security you want to speak with her—I'm sure my father would be more than happy to have Diana talk to you instead of him. He likes passing off his responsibilities to her." There was an edge to Rebecca's voice, something that suggested complicated family dynamics Kari didn't have time to unpack.
Before Kari could think of a reply, Rebecca raised her window and drove off into the night.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kari returned to the Sterling property at nine the next morning, this time with an appointment arranged through Charles Sterling's attorney. The gate opened without the intercom interrogation from the night before, and she followed the winding driveway to a house that looked even more impressive in daylight—modern architecture blending into the desert landscape, floor-to-ceiling windows, immaculate landscaping that somehow made xeriscaping look luxurious.
A man in a dark suit met her at the door—private security, not house staff. He checked her credentials thoroughly before leading her through a foyer with marble floors and abstract art that probably cost more than Kari's annual salary.
"Ms. Gray will see you in the living room," he said, his tone making it clear that this was a privilege, not a given.
Diana Gray was standing near the windows when Kari entered, backlit by morning sun that turned her into an elegant silhouette. When she turned, Kari saw a woman in her late thirties, strikingly beautiful with sharp cheekbones and dark hair pulled into a sleek bun. She wore tailored slacks and a silk blouse that suggested someone comfortable with wealth, and a delicate silver bracelet on her left wrist that caught the light as she extended her hand.
"Detective Blackhorse. Thank you for your patience in getting this meeting arranged. Charles wanted to make sure we handled this through proper channels. Please, sit."
They settled on opposite ends of a cream-colored sofa that looked like it had never been actually used for casual sitting.
"I appreciate you taking the time," Kari said. "I understand you've been helping Mr. Sterling with his business affairs?"
"I've been a consultant for Charles for about eight months now. Strategic planning, investor relations, that sort of thing." Diana's smile was practiced, revealing nothing beyond polite cooperation. "Though I'm not sure how that's relevant to your investigation."
"I'm trying to understand the Sunset Ridge Resort project—who was involved, what the relationships were between the key players. You knew the victims?"
"I met them, yes. Richard Garrison at several investor dinners. Margaret Hoffman at city planning meetings. Victor Sheridan..." Diana paused fractionally, "at various business functions related to the resort."
Kari caught the slight hesitation. "Mr. Sheridan was involved in the construction. Did you work with him directly?"
"I attended meetings where construction progress was discussed. Charles relied on Victor's expertise, trusted him to deliver quality work on schedule." Diana's voice remained even, but something in her posture shifted—shoulders pulling back, hands folding in her lap. "Victor was very good at what he did."
"How well did you know him?"
"He came to dinner parties occasionally. Charles liked to maintain good relationships with his contractors." Diana's eyes moved past Kari toward the doorway. "But I think you should probably ask Charles these questions directly. He knew the victims much better than I did."
As if summoned, Charles Sterling appeared in the doorway. He was tall and distinguished, with silver hair and the kind of confident bearing that came from decades of commanding boardrooms. But there was tension around his eyes, stress lines that suggested the past week had taken its toll.
