"I'm sure. It was a terrible thing you experienced."
“Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, soda? There’s vodka and whiskey in the mini fridge if you’re so inclined.“
“Might be a little early for that,” I said.
“Under normal circumstances, I would agree. But I can’t make any promises that I’ll make it past noon without a drink. I’m tempted to spend the day by the pool, pretending I didn’t just lose my husband.” A frown tugged her plump lips. “But that would probably be a bad idea. There are paparazzi everywhere. I’m surprised you didn’t encounter them. They were loitering around earlier. I called security and had them run off.” She huffed. "I can see the tabloid headline now.Widow celebrates husband's death with a margarita poolside.Damn vultures, that's what they are. Don't they have anything better to do? I mean, who really cares? They’ll be on to something else next week.”
"I would avoid all media attention right now if possible."
"That's what my attorney says."
"I'm usually not in the business of telling suspects to listen to their attorneys, but that's good advice.”
A disappointed look soured her face. "I'm hoping to get off your suspect list soon. I don't like the thought of it.”
I smirked. "Nobody does.” I waved the documents again. "Thanks again. We should get going.”
"Yes. I'm sure you have other cases.”
She escorted us to the door, and we said our goodbyes.
There were a few guys with cameras loitering around the bushes across the path. They snapped a few pictures of us as we left. I'm sure that would make the online tabloids at least. In plain clothes, we didn’t look like cops. I'm sure they’d get the captionwrong.Widow entertains two men in private cabana one day after husband's death.
It didn't matter what Tiffany did. They were going to paint a negative picture of her.
I kept telling myself to reserve judgment.
JD said, "That one's hard to read. I can't tell if she really loved him, or if she was just in it for the money. She seems pretty sincere.”
I shrugged and brandished the documents again. “This will tell us a lot.”
We walked around the pool, smiled at the ladies, then stepped into the main building. I started thumbing through the prenuptial agreement and continued reading while the valet pulled the Porsche around. We hopped in and drove back to theAvventura.
The prenuptial agreement was pretty simple and straightforward. Tiffany had waived all of her rights to Brock's fortune in the event of divorce or infidelity. The will was a long and complex document that left the bulk of the estate, along with the Palm Haven mansion, to Brock’s children in the form of an irrevocable trust. A small stipend had been set aside to cover expenses during probate and provide for Tiffany's living expenses for a specified time. She would be allowed to stay in the Palm Haven house for a year. Hardly the kind of payday someone would risk life in prison for—especially someone like Tiffany. Then again, I'd seen people kill each other over $0.50. But Tiffany was smarter than that.
So far, everything she had said checked out.
Once I had digested the documents, JD and I grabbed lunch at Diver Down and kicked around theories. Then, with full bellies, we set out to find Hailey Madison.
13
“Idon’t want to talk about him,” Hailey shouted through the door after we knocked and introduced ourselves.
“You’re aware of the situation, aren’t you?”
"It's been all over the news. How could I not be?"
"Sounds like this is a difficult subject for you,” I said. “I understand. Would it be totally outrageous if we just asked a few questions? It won't take long."
After a moment’s hesitation, she flipped the deadbolt and pulled open the door. Her timid eyes darted between the two of us. Hailey was a beautiful girl in her late 20s with wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and a fresh face that could sell beauty cream.
"Thank you,” I said. “I know how difficult this is.”
Her lip curled with disdain. "You don't look like cops.”
I smiled. “We get that a lot. We’re Special Crimes.”
"Was this a special crime?" she asked.
