Sure.I wasn’t planning to eat much.Fried rice and dumplings go straight to my hips.
“Then we’d better talk fast, before he gets here.”
I’d realized, after I hung up the phone with Diana earlier, that I couldn’t just arbitrarily call Mendoza and tell him about Araminta Tucker and what she’d told me.Diana was my client.My responsibility—and loyalty—was to her.If she told me not to share what I knew with Mendoza, I couldn’t share it.
“About what?”Diana wanted to know.She was forking shrimp and broccoli onto her plate.
“I went to see the woman who owns the house next to Mrs.Grimshaw.The house where Steven met with the blonde yesterday.”
Was it only yesterday?It felt a lot longer ago.
“Her name is Araminta Tucker.She moved to an assisted living facility in Franklin after her husband died.He was Mrs.Grimshaw’s brother.She and Griselda Grimshaw didn’t get along, so when Patton died, Araminta moved out of the house next door and started renting it out.”
Diana nodded.She had moved onto the dumplings, and was fishing them out of the box with her fork.
“Before she retired, she used to work at the university.”
Diana glanced up.“Where Steven works?”
“The same one.She posts the house for rent on the bulletin boards there.Steven must have seen it, because he contacted her.”
“About renting her house?”
“That’s what he told her.Or what she said he told her.He wanted to rent the house,” I took a breath, “for his daughter.”
There was a beat of silence.“Steven doesn’t have a daughter,” Diana said.
I nodded.“That’s what you told me.And what I told her.For what it’s worth, Araminta didn’t think she was Steven’s daughter, either.”
Diana arched a brow.“Why not?”
“Different last names, different nationalities.”She looked blank, and I added, “Apparently the girl’s Russian.Or from somewhere in what used to be the Soviet Union.I’m not up on the various Slavic variations of names.But her last name is Sokolov.First name Anastasia.Araminta Tucker let me see the lease.The girl signed it along with Steven.”
“Do you have a copy?”
I shook my head.“I left it with Ms.Tucker.It’s hers.I need to know whether you’ll agree to let me tell Mendoza about it, so he can go take a look at it.”
She looked surprised.
“I work for you,” I said.“If you don’t want me to share it with him, I won’t.”
It would be difficult, since I didn’t really want to keep anything from him that might help him solve Mrs.Grimshaw’s murder.She might not have been a nice woman, but nobody had the right to kill her, no matter how unpleasant she might have been.
Diana nodded.“Of course I want you to share it with him.Any chance the girl did it?”
It was hard to blame her for sounding hopeful.I’d been hoping for the same thing—that I would be able to send Jacquie to prison for the rest of her natural life—after David died.Anastasia Sokolov was even younger than Jacquie.She could look forward to even more years behind bars.
However, I felt I owed it to Diana to point out the truth.
“She might just be a witness.If she was next door last night, she couldn’t really have avoided hearing the shot.”
Diana made a face.
“Either way, having her name will hopefully help Mendoza find her.Or at least make it easier.And Araminta Tucker saw her, so she can probably help him flesh out the description Zachary gave.”
“That’s why he’s coming here,” Diana said.“He set Zachary up with a police artist.They have a sketch.Jaime wants me to look at it, to see if I recognize her.”
Good for Zachary.
