Page 116 of Mother-Daughter Murder Night

Beth leaned in to take a closer look at a framed photograph hanging by the kitchen sink. It was a large group of people, thirty or so, standing in front of the barn. Most of them were holding hand tools, smiling. But not the Rhoadses. Younger versions of Martin and Diana stood on one edge of the doorway, faces solemn, clutching flowers. Hal stood between the open doors, beside a Mexican woman with a toddler. Beth had the feeling she’d seen them before.

“When was this?” she asked.

“Twenty-five years ago, give or take. When the new barn was raised.”

Beth looked again. She squinted into the dark mouth of the barn, letting the rest of the crowd go blurry. Then she remembered. Hal, the tired woman, and the baby boy, clipped out and hidden in the back of the picture frame in his room at Bayshore Oaks.

“Who’s that?” Beth asked, pointing at the Mexican woman.

Martin leaned closer. “Sofia.” His voice was stilted. “She worked here. Her husband, he died in the fire with my mother, in the barn that was here before.”

“How awful.” Beth looked at the woman with the little boy, imagining how devastated she must have been, knowing the hard path that lay ahead of her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the low purr of a car approaching outside. A set of headlights swung across the kitchen windows, and Lana’s Lexus rolled into view.

Through the kitchen window, Beth watched as Lady Di and her mother greeted each other. Lana was decked out in a sharp black suit and heels. It even looked like she’d had her wig styled. Lady Di was more subdued in her long, camel peacoat, clutching a large folio of papers.

“Martin!” Diana called out. “Come and say hello to Ms. Rubicon.”

Martin flinched. But he didn’t leave. He pulled back from the window and looked at Beth. “Your mother,” he said. “I hear she’s quite the real estate shark.”

“More of a leopard seal. Cute on the outside, razor-sharp teeth on the inside.”

“Is she going to cause problems for me?”

Beth’s face froze in a half smile. “I think she’s just trying to help—”

“My sister, I know. And Ricardo Cruz. She seems very helpful.”

Beth nodded uncomfortably. Maybe bringing their separate family tensions into the same house wasn’t such a great idea.

Chapter Fifty

Dinner was more than a little awkward. Diana had bought a salad and fancy pizzas, the kind that came with fussy toppings and no sauce on rosemary-scented crackers. She kept trying to bring up her proposal for the future of the ranch, but Martin refused to talk business until after they’d eaten. They crunched their way through the meal, grasping for something to talk about.

“Jack, I was sorry to hear about your boss,” Martin said.

Jack looked at him quizzically.

“What are you talking about?” Beth asked.

“I saw a news alert an hour ago,” Martin said. “Apparently the sheriffs have a warrant out for Paul Hanley’s arrest. For the murder of Ricardo Cruz. And Hanley appears to be missing.”

Lana took a careful sip of her water. “I’m not sure I agree with the sheriffs about who killed Ricardo Cruz.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diana’s jaw stiffen.

“This is hardly appropriate dinner conversation,” Diana said.

“You’re right, Di,” Martin said easily. He looked almost happy to have contributed to the unsettling of his sister. “So, Lana. I hear you have lung cancer?”

Diana almost choked on her wine.

Lana gazed up at the man neutrally, as if he’d asked her if she had enough salad.

“That’s correct, Martin.” Lana gave him a thin smile. “And if you’ll excuse me, I realize I left my pills in the car.”

Lana sauntered to the front door. Once outside, she strode over to Diana’s Jaguar. It was a sedan, fairly new, in an understated gray-green. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall seeing it before.

But the dusty pickup behind it did look familiar. The more she stared at the rusted old Ford, the more certain she was that it was the truck parked behind her at the land trust the day of the fire. It couldn’t have been further from Diana’s style—which made it perfect if she was trying to hide her tracks.