"Certainly. You really are pushing the suspect thing, aren't you?”
"We like to be thorough.” I dug into my pocket and gave her a card. “You can text her number to me."
"Do you need that now?
"Before we go.”
"You have more questions?"
"Just a few."
She sighed again. "Give me a second. I'll get my phone." She stepped away from the door. "I guess you can come in."
We followed her inside as she walked down the hallway to the living room. JD and I stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind us, then continued.
Typical for the Nautilus, it was a nice condo. There was a large living room with an open concept kitchen. Floor-to-ceiling window walls opened to the terrace, which offered a view of the ocean beyond. There were bedrooms on either side of the living room, and stairs led up to a second-floor loft area and another guest bedroom.
Celeste grabbed her phone from the glass coffee table and scrolled through her contacts. A moment later, my phone buzzed with the information.
The furniture was sleek and modern. A large 77-inch flatscreen was mounted flush to the wall. Beachy abstracts in teal and gold added a touch of color.
"I hate to bring up a delicate topic, but I read an interesting article online,” JD said. “It seems your daughter, Hailey, made quite shocking allegations against Brock recently. Can you comment on that?"
10
Celeste's lip curled with revulsion. It was clearly a subject she didn't want to talk about. "My daughter is going through a difficult time in her life right now. For whatever reason, she has made these unsubstantiated claims. I blame the therapist she’s seeing. Regression therapy. All of a sudden, she has these traumatic memories,” she said dramatically in a mocking voice. “It's not possible. As much as Brock and I may have had our differences, he did not and would not abuse Hailey. I refuse to believe that. She never mentioned anything to me at the time. I never saw any evidence of abuse. I would have known. Something like that could not have happened right under my nose and remained hidden for all these years." Her face twisted into a scowl. "I think that charlatan has put ideas in her head. To what end, I don't know. Maybe Hailey was trying to extort money from Brock. It doesn’t make much sense to me. She has everything she wants. We've always taken care of her and Hunter.”
"That's somebody else I'd like to talk about," I said.
Celeste frowned. "If you ask me, I think Hailey is acting out because, quite frankly, Tiffany is younger than she is. She's not okay with it. Neither am I. Nobody is.” She paused. “Maybe it was a cry for attention. I don't think Brock has spent any meaningful time with his children since he got involved with the tramp. As for Hunter, the two just didn't get along. Fundamentally different philosophies on life, I suppose.” Another frown tugged her lips. “Hunter could never be Christian. It was unfair for Brock to expect as much from him.”
“How old was Hunter when Christian died?”
Celeste thought for a moment. “Twelve or thirteen, I suppose.”
“Do you mind if I ask how he passed?”
“It’s not a memory I like to revisit.”
“I understand.”
There was an awkward silence.
Then I said, “It’s safe to say that both of your children harbored some animosity toward Brock.”
Her eyes narrowed at me, and she sneered, “I guess that makes them suspects, too.”
“Anyone with a motive is a suspect.”
A hint of doubt crept into her brain. Fear filled her eyes. It was easy to see her thoughts.What if one of her kids had done this?
Celeste didn’t like the idea. Nobody wanted to raise a monster. Whoever killed Brock Madison was pretty monstrous.
After the unsettling thought, she shook her head, dismissing it. “No. My kids wouldn’t do that.”
I think she was trying to convince herself.
“What about enemies?” I asked.
