Tiffany laughed again. “Not a chance. This is getting ridiculous.”
“I understand your frustration. We’re just trying to rule out obvious suspects.”
“And I was beginning to like you both.” She frowned and shook her head.
“Wearevery likable,” Jack admitted.
“I just have one more question for you,” I said. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but Trent made some errors both with your prenup and the will.”
She lifted a curious brow and played innocent. “Oh, really?”
I told her what she already knew. The likely invalidation of the will and the rules of intestate succession would leave her a rich woman. “It seems that maybe you had a motive after all.”
She shifted with discomfort. “Oh, I wasn’t aware.”
“Some might say Trent fumbled on purpose. Some might say you needed to shut him up.”
“I’m not really concerned with what some might say.” The innocence faded from her face, and her eyes burned into me. The game was over, and she knew we had her number.
“I’m guessing Trent wanted to renegotiate his split with you.”
“That is an amusing theory, deputy. But that’s all it is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I need to get back to my workout.”
“So you have no alibi for last night…”
She stepped back, closed the door, and locked the deadbolt.
JD and I shared a look, then walked back toward the Porsche. He mumbled, "Did you see the look on her face?"
I grinned.
We hopped into the Porsche and retraced the route from Palm Haven to Trent’s house. Since the murder weapon wasn’t found at the scene, I figured she might have ditched it along the way.
59
On a bicycle, it took five minutes to get from Palm Haven to Trent’s place. The most direct route meandered through residential neighborhoods and did a stretch down Seagrass and Flamingo. There were plenty of trash cans and recycling bins at curbs. A million places to hide a murder weapon.
JD and I drove to Trent’s, then walked the route back to Palm Haven. We looked in drainage ditches and garbage bins, but trash pickup was this morning. If the murder weapon was in one of these bins, it was long gone by now. Still, JD and I looked in every bin along the way. Let me tell you, some of them stank to high hell. The scent of stale chicken and raw eggs was overpowering in some bins.
The murder weapon didn’t turn up.
I was sure that Tiffany had some bloody clothing lying around the house. Maybe some blood transfer on the bicycle. I had no doubt that she was most likely in the process of getting rid of theevidence after our visit this morning. Maybe our visit was a bit premature.
The thought that she might get away with this gnawed at me.
If we could match the hair strand found in Trent‘s office to her, she would still have a legitimate excuse as to why it was there. An office meeting with him at some time in the past. There was no telling how long the fiber could have been there. Then there was a matter of acquiring a sample, though it wouldn’t be hard.
I had another idea, but it was a little risky.
It was easy enough to convince Mrs. Miller to stay at the Seven Seas for a few days, all expenses paid. She was more than willing to play along. We arranged an interview with Paris in front of her house to bait the hook. “Yes,” Joyce said. “I saw a woman enter and leave Mr. Keating’s home. I’ve already talked to the police and identified the suspect. I’m told they will be making an arrest shortly.”
“Can you describe the suspect?” Paris asked.
“I’m not really supposed to discuss the case.”
The interview took place in front of her house, by the mailbox, with her address in plain view.
“Are you scared that you might be retaliated against?”
