The Final Victim(99)

She shakes her head. "No, thanks, I'm-"

"Really. You should take a sip. You don't look like you're feeling that great."

"I'm just… I've been really tired the last few days." 'You've been through hell."

She nods. "I guess it's catching up with me."

"So listen to Florence Nightingale over here and drink some water," Williamson says gruffly, and ignores the dark look Dorado shoots in his direction.

As Charlotte sips, Williamson tells her, 'We're going to look more closely into your grandfather's death, Mrs. Maitland. And your husband's shooting."

"And your cousin is still our prime suspect," Dorado inserts.

"I thought you said he was in Mexico when Grandaddy died, and when Royce was shot, I thought he-"

"His alibis don't mean crap," Williams says, and adds, "pardon my French."

"He could have had an accomplice," Dorado tells her.

"Or hired a hit man," Williamson adds.

Charlotte looks from one detective to the other, utterly overwhelmed. "So what now?"

"So now we check out the alibis of anybody else who could have had the slightest motive to hurt Maitland," Williamson says, as much to his partner as to Charlotte.

"We've been trying to reach your ex-husband," Dorado informs her. "Do you have any idea where we can find him?"

It's all she can do not to squeeze the water right out of the cup in her clenched hand. "He lives in Jacksonville. You should check his apartment, I would think."

"No shit, Sherlock." That, of course, comes from the ever-eloquent Williamson.

Dorado elaborates, "We haven't tracked him down there yet. We'll go over the contact information again with you. We also need to speak to your cousin Phyllida. Is she still staying with you?"

Charlotte hesitates only briefly before shaking her head. "No, she was supposed to fly back to California Saturday night."

"Supposed to?"

"I'm assuming she did. But when I talked to her nanny yesterday, she hadn't come home yet. They said she wasn't on the flight."

Again, {he detectives exchange a glance. Dorado asks for the flight information.

"How was their marriage?" Williamson wants to know.

"Not great, I don't think."

"Would you be surprised if your cousin Phyllida lied to her husband, or you, about where she was going?"

Charlotte contemplates that and finds herself relieved at the possible explanation for Phyllida's whereabouts. Maybe she's having an affair or something. "I wouldn't be surprised at all."

"Would you be surprised if she was a conspirator with her brother to harm you, your husband, or your grandfather?"

"Not really, no." Nothing would surprise her at this point.

Not even if she was to find out that Grandaddy had discovered what they were up to, and so wrote them out of the will because of it.

What doesn't make sense, if that was true, is his failure to confront Gib and Phyllida about it.

Unless he did.

But why wouldn't he go to the authorities?

Williamson is moving on brusquely, as if he's ticking off a mental checklist. "I understand your husband also has an ex-wife in New Orleans?"

She nods, her thoughts tumbling over each other like shells in an incoming tide. "But I don't know her address or her number off the top of my head."

"We'll get it. What about his daughter?" Dorado asks, hand poised on his notepad.

"She'd know it, but-"

"No, I realize that she'd know where to reach her mother. What I'm asking is whether she would have had any reason to hurt her father."

"None at all. And anyway, she was in New Orleans when he was shot."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I called her there several times after it happened to-"

"Land line or cell phone?"

She frowns. "Cell phone."

"She could have been anywhere, Mrs. Maitland."

"No, she flew in."

"After it happened?"

"Yes, the next morning."

"Did you pick her up from the airport?"

"No, she took a cab, but I saw her luggage," she adds knowing they're about to tell her the cab doesn't prove Aimee even came from the airport.

She closes her eyes, then triumphantly tells them, "I remember, she had checked the suitcase. There was a white baggage claim tag folded around the handle. I remember because I asked her about checking it."

"Did you notice the date on it?"

"No, but it did say ATL-SAV. My husband's luggage always says the same thing when he gets back."

"It could have been an old tag of his, then."

She vacillates for a troubled moment, wondering if Aimee could have possibly- "Wait!" she says, remembering. "I'm positive she was in the airport, in New Orleans. I heard the announcement for her flight boarding that morning while I was talking to her."

The detectives look at each other. "Do you remember which flight it was?"

She nods, pleased with herself. "Delta. Connecting through Atlanta. That's why I remember the announcement, because my husband has taken that same flight when he comes back from visiting her."