"One way or another," Maria said, already moving toward the door,” we need to get to that overlook. Now."
They rushed out of the house together, Diana leading them to a utility vehicle parked near the garage. As they climbed in, Kari tried calling Sterling's number herself. Still no answer. She tried Rebecca's. Nothing.
"How well do you know Rebecca?" Kari asked as Diana drove them along a narrow paved road that curved around the property.
"I've lived with her and Charles for eight months. She's always been polite but distant with me." Diana's voice was tight with fear. "But she's never been violent. Never threatened anyone. She's quiet and sad and maybe obsessed with her mother's memory, but that doesn't make her a murderer."
"Did she ever talk about the resort project?" Maria asked. "About the petroglyphs that were destroyed, about the protests?"
"She said it was wrong. Said Charles was destroying history for profit, that he didn't care about anything except money." Diana's hands gripped the steering wheel. "She went to some of the protests, actually. Early on, before the construction started. But then she stopped going. Said there was no point, that her father was going to do whatever he wanted regardless of who objected."
"Did she ever mention Thomas Hatathli?" Kari asked.
"The lawyer who's been arrested? I don't think so. Why?"
"Because someone collected Hatathli's DNA and planted it at the crime scenes to frame him," Kari said. "Someone with access to his office or personal space. Someone who was volunteering at his law office, maybe."
Diana's face showed dawning horror. "You think Rebecca was volunteering at Hatathli's office? That she collected his DNA to frame him?"
"We think it's possible," Maria said.
The road ended at a small parking area near a trailhead. Diana parked and they got out, the afternoon sun beating down on them as they moved quickly along a well-maintained path through desert scrub.
"That's the overlook," Diana said, pointing to a rocky outcropping visible in the distance. "Charles likes the view. He says it helps him think about his projects, seeing everything laid out below."
As they approached, Kari could make out two figures on the overlook—a man and a woman, standing close together. Too far away to hear what they were saying, but the body language looked tense.
"Charles!" Diana called out. "Rebecca!"
Neither figure turned. They seemed entirely focused on each other, or perhaps couldn't hear over the desert wind.
Kari picked up her pace, Maria keeping stride beside her.
"Mr. Sterling!" Kari shouted. "Rebecca!"
This time both figures turned.
"Stay back," Rebecca called out. Her hand moved to her jacket.
"She has a gun," Maria said quietly, her own hand moving to her weapon but not drawing it yet.
Diana gasped. "Rebecca, what are you doing?"
"We need to talk, Rebecca," Kari called out. "Just talk. No one needs to get hurt."
"It's too late for that," Rebecca shouted back. "People are already hurt. People are dead. Because of him." She gestured at her father with the gun. "Because he cares more about money than he ever cared about human lives."
Sterling found his voice. "Rebecca, please. Whatever you think I did—"
"I don't think, Dad. I know." Rebecca's voice broke. "I found Mom's files. I found everything she documented about your projects. And I know what you did to her."
Kari was close enough now to see tears streaming down Rebecca's face, to see Sterling's expression of guilt and fear, to see how this was all going to end if they didn't stop it.
"Let's talk about it," Kari said. "Let's talk about what you found, about what your mother documented. We can help you get justice for her."
"There is no justice," Rebecca said. "Not for people like him. He'll hire lawyers, pay people off, make it all go away like he always does. The only justice is what I make myself."
She raised the gun, pointing it directly at her father's chest.
