“I need a lot of things.”
Viv set her empty cup on her leg.
Kate poked her head in the door. “Dr. Abigail Caine is here to see you.”
Laurel closed the file folder. “Bring her in, please.”
Time to play chess again.
* * *
For her trek to Genesis Valley, Abigail Caine had worn dark blue jeans, a ruffled white shirt, and a light pink suit jacket. Her earrings were Chanel, her necklace Van Cleef, and her handbag a Birkin in orange. She looked at the chair and then smiled. “You need furniture.”
Laurel noted the Prada boots on Abigail’s feet. The ensemble worked for the woman, even appeared understated. That took talent. “I’m sure furniture will be here soon. For now, please take a gummy-bear colored seat.”
Abigail sat and crossed her legs, setting the Birkin on the floor. “I have the perfect painting to put behind your desk. The colors would be beautiful in the natural light coming over that mountain.” She wiped a piece of lint off her jeans. “The blues and greens would also look lovely behind your dual-colored eyes. What do you think?”
Laurel placed her hand on the closed blue file folder. “That’s very kind of you, but I am unable to accept gifts from . . . witnesses.”
Abigail’s grin was quick. “I like the way you play, Laurel. We both know I’m not the killer, but I appreciate the slight hint that you’re looking at me.” She smoothed white-blond hair over her shoulder. “It’s nice to be noticed.”
Laurel casually pulled a yellow legal pad from beneath the file folder. “Did you remember anything more about the man you saw near Snowblood Peak?” She reached for a pen tucked near her laptop.
“Yes.” Abigail tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Did you conduct a background search on me?”
The woman needed to be the center of attention, now, didn’t she? “Of course,” Laurel said. “Tell me about the man.”
“He was very tall with thick dark hair going gray,” Abigail said. “What did you find in my past?”
Laurel couldn’t quite get a read on the woman. “I discovered that you’re the partial owner of a cannabis farm.”
Abigail’s laugh was a low chuckle. “Yes, I am. It’s very lucrative, as I’m sure you can imagine.” She tilted her head. “The other two owners are my brother, Robert, and our friend John. We’re quite the trio.”
Laurel tapped her fingernails on her file folder. “Please tell me about those two.”
Abigail lifted a delicate shoulder. “No. They have a right to their privacy. Even though cannabis is legal in Washington and we’re licensed, not everyone agrees with our choices.” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Although we are making a lot of money.”
“I’m sure.” Laurel stayed in place. “Back to the case. Tell me about the man you saw near the Snowblood Peak trails.”
“He was tall with gray hair—probably around fifty-five or so,” Abigail said.
“What else?” Laurel asked.
Abigail hummed. “Let’s see. Both times I saw him, he wore a large, green flannel jacket and carried a walking stick. While he didn’t seem to require assistance walking, perhaps he kept the stick to hit something. Or somebody.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “Could I have been in danger that entire time?”
It was doubtful Abigail Caine had ever been in danger. Laurel shook her head. “I don’t know. The killer I’m hunting certainly likes to harm blondes.”
Abigail leaned forward. “He’s still out there. Perhaps I should dye my hair? What have you told your mother to do with her blond hair?”
Laurel kept her expression neutral. “Apparently you conducted research of your own.”
“Of course,” Abigail said. “As one prodigy to another, I admit you’re fascinating. Since you no doubt were going to run my background, I felt it only fair to run yours. You’ll be proud to know that your mother’s teas are amongst my favorites. She puts love in every apothecary jar, doesn’t she?”
“So I’ve read,” Laurel said evenly. She needed to get that security system installed at her mom’s home, and she definitely had to do a deeper dive on Dr. Caine’s background. For now, she made a show of glancing at her watch. “Is there anything else you remember?”
Abigail’s eyes narrowed. In the morning light from the wide window, they somehow looked a darker blue than before. “My memory is actually quite good, and I was wondering, shouldn’t Captain Huck Rivers be here right now? That charade of a press conference earlier notwithstanding, it appeared the other day that you two were working the case together. In fact, I’d have to say you seemed in tune with each other.”
“I believe our agencies have gone their separate ways,” Laurel said dryly.
