“No, sir. One more: Marissa French.”
“Nope, never heard of her. Who are all these people?”
“Their names have come up, sir.”
“Not Whitney’s friends?”
“No, sir.”
“Too bad,” said Rolf Batchelor. “I was hoping she’d finally found some.”
Chapter
25
Milo pushed away from my desk.
“Dr. Compassionate. Think he’s too good to be true?”
“You do?”
“Nothing he said twanged my antenna but his dad’s estate had to be substantial so one less heir would be nice.”
“His dad died years ago.”
“Maybe there’s been a money battle making its way through the system. What if it dragged on and Rolf Three lost patience.”
“Donna didn’t mention anything like that and she’s not the type to gloss over a fight with anyone, let alone a stepson. More than that, if eliminating heirs was the goal, she’d be in jeopardy herself and once Whitney was murdered, I can’t see her overlooking the threat.”
“Unless she fixated on Sterling—please don’t say it.”
“What?”
“Anything’s possible. My job, that’s terrifying.”
He wheeled around in my chair for a few semicircles. Came to a quick stop, looked up his call history, and punched buttons.
Three rings later, Donna Batchelor said, “What now, Lieutenant?”
“We just spoke to Dr. Batchelor.”
“R-Three? How’s he doing?”
“He seems well, ma’am. He told us he thought of himself as Whitney’s brother—”
“Why wouldn’t he? Blood doesn’t matter, relationships do, and theirs was great. Three wasn’t around much but when he visited he was great with Whitney and she adored him.”
“That’s consistent with his description.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she said. “And why are you wasting your time with Three or anyone else when I told you where to look. Thatbastard.”
“We’re taking that seriously, ma’am, but we wouldn’t be doing our job if we didn’t explore all possibilities.”
“Oh boy,” said Donna Batchelor. “Can’t stop you from meandering but in the end you’ll see I’m right. Besides that, what could you expect to get from talking to Three?”
“You may find the question ridiculous, ma’am, but I need to ask: Was there any sort of conflict related to Mr. Batchelor’s estate?”
Donna Batchelor’s laughter had the soothing effect of ball bearings in a metal bowl.
