Katrina tried to explain that she was still making calls to firm up details and answer questions. “I still have so many holes to fill.”

  “I know, and tomorrow is another day,” Joanne said.

  But Katrina was determined and persuasive. She finally convinced Joanne that she needed to find out if Darren McMurphy’s Filipino girlfriend was, in fact, a nurse, and if so, where she worked.

  “I have a hunch that’s her on the video,” she said. “I also have to call the police to ask about the uniformed officer. Then I’ll stop, I promise.”

  Daisy answered her cell phone on the fifth ring, with loud music and the roar of bar talk in the background. From her wobbly voice, it sounded like she’d consumed a few cocktails.

  “Yeah, she’s a nurse, but I have no idea where Darren met her. Maybe through work somehow,” she said.

  “You don’t know her name by chance?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  So, even though Katrina believed they were one and the same, she had to turn in her story without that detail.

  She and Joanne were five minutes into side-by-side editing her story when John Palmer walked in and covered his face with his hands melodramatically.

  “You don’t have a TV in here, but you’ll never guess who was just on a breaking-news tease on Channel 10,” he said.

  “Who?” the two women chorused.

  “Alex Battrelle has been arrested on suspicion of tax fraud and money laundering. He’s also been named as a possible suspect in the Fontaine murders and is being held until he can be arraigned in federal court.”

  “Wow,” Joanne said, looking at Katrina. “Where’d all that come from?”

  Katrina shook her head and shrugged.

  Goode isn’t telling me anything. Now I look stupid.

  “He’s been working some scheme down in the Caymans, setting up bogus companies, and hiding money for rich clients going through divorces. Allegedly,” John said. “The feds said they’ve been working this case for eighteen months.”

  “Oh, my God,” Katrina and Joanne said in unison.

  “That’s not all. As Alex was being led out of the police station in handcuffs, Michael and Vincent Battrelle were walking in with Milton Biggs and another attorney I didn’t recognize,” John said. “Why did I even come to work today?”

  Joanne shook her head, a signal to Katrina to stay quiet.

  “So where are we, ladies? Is the story done?” John asked, smiling weakly.

  “Katrina and I are still going through it,” Joanne said. “This complicates matters, obviously. We’ll post this version ASAP, then update and repost with the new developments.”

  John nodded. He arched his back and pushed his thumbs into the lower portion, then slowly hobbled back to his office.

  “We’ll have to ask Norman Klein for a feed on the two other Battrelles showing up at the cop shop,” Joanne said. “Luckily, Big Ed asked him to hang out for a while.”

  “Okay,” Katrina said. “I left messages all around, but I couldn’t get anyone. They’re probably busy with interrogations.”

  “That detective never tells you anything on the record anyway,” Joanne said. “Better to get something we can use, even if it’s not as good.”

  “Yeah, the police are going to look pretty lame if they can’t explain why one of their officers was inside the house before or even during the murders,” Katrina said. “What do we do about getting a comment on behalf of the Battrelles?”

  “Leave messages at the Biggs firm, and on Vincent’s and Michael’s cell phones,” Joanne said. “That’s all we can do at this point.”

  Chapter 44

  Goode

  Thursday

  On his way back to the station, Goode got a call from Stone, letting him know that Michael and Vincent had been successfully corralled into separate interrogation rooms at HQ.

  “If they keep trying to lie their way out of this, we have solid proof to confront them with,” Stone said. “I’ve already started grilling Vincent. Once you get here, you can hit up Michael. Byron and Foster will monitor both sessions and feed us info as we go.”

  “See you in a few.”

  When Goode walked in a few minutes later, Michael Battrelle was sitting next to a fiftyish man in a suit, presumably one of Biggs’s senior associates, while Biggs was next door with Vincent.

  Goode wasted no time scolding Michael. “You and your father both lied to me. You said you learned about the Fontaines’ death Saturday on the news, but we have security footage showing you were there nearly two hours before the ‘anonymous’ 911 call on Friday night, which I’m sure one of you made. I haven’t listened to the tape yet, but I’ll bet my grandmother’s birthday cake that it’s got your voice on it.”

  Michael’s face went white. He turned toward his lawyer, who nodded for him to answer. “Okay,” he said, sighing. “Like I said before, Victoria didn’t sound well on the phone that morning. When she didn’t answer my calls or texts, I went over there to check on her. I never expected to find them both dead.”

  “You lied either way, even if it was partly by omission. Alex’s statement today completely contradicts the rest of what you told me. I knew you had to be lying, because the scene didn’t make sense. You want to explain what you and your father were thinking when you messed with a crime scene?”

  “First of all, we didn’t know it was a crime scene,” Michael said.

  “Oh, really? How’s that?”

  “The first thing I saw was Simon lying in a heap on the landing near the bottom of the staircase. I felt his neck, and he was cold with no pulse. I thought maybe he’d had a heart attack. I called out for Victoria, but she didn’t answer. I ran upstairs to her room, because she likes to work on her laptop in bed, and she was lying on the floor. She was cold too. I saw the bruising on her arm and the pill vials on the nightstand, dated from that day. I also found the gun in her purse. I’ve seen the bruising on Alex before, so I thought the worst, called him up, and basically accused him of causing her to OD.”

  “Okay.”

  “She’d told me she was dealing with some serious stuff at Vitaleron, but she’d always taken her work in stride. I didn’t think it was enough to cause her to relapse, but she does have a history of trying to harm and kill herself. I’ve been kicking myself for not pressing her about the cutting, because she must have been more depressed than I’d realized.”

  “So you were thinking suicide. What would trigger her to do that?”

  “My first thought was Alex. She’d been clean for many years, but if he’d relapsed and gone on one of his wild binges, he could have persuaded her to join him, then run off after she OD’d. Or he could’ve broken her heart again somehow, so she took those pills and overdosed that way. Either way, she seemed prepared for multiple avenues, whatever it took: suicide by pills, the needle, or a gun.”

  “Didn’t it occur to you that you should have seen a syringe or some paraphernalia near her body?”

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly. But now that you mention it, yes.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I was reeling from the shock, so I called Alex and demanded to know what he’d done to her.”

  “What was his response?”

  “He said, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So, I said, ‘Victoria and Simon are dead. She’s overdosed on the floor, and he’s lying at the bottom of the stairs. What happened? What did you give her? And what did you do to Simon?’”

  “And?”

  “He started cursing and crying. It took him a minute to calm down enough to answer, but then he said, ‘I stayed over last night, but Victoria was alive when I left at eight fifteen this morning. I didn’t give her any drugs. You know I’ve been clean for six months. I’ve been out shopping for rings all goddamn afternoon, and I was going to come over and surprise her with one tonight. I haven’t seen Simon since Thursday night. He was just leaving when I got there.’”

  “Did you believe him?” Goode asked.

  “I wasn’t sure what to think. He’s got a long history of lying and relapsing, but I saw for myself what could have happened. Simon came home unexpectedly and either found her dead or using with Alex, and there was some kind of confrontation. Alex knocked him down the stairs, or maybe they argued and Simon fell, so Alex took off. Maybe he thought Simon was only unconscious. I don’t know. He’s never hurt anyone before. Not physically, anyway.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I told Alex, ‘Look, I don’t know if you’re lying or not, but this is bad no matter what. If you were the last person to see her, the police are going to blame you, which will be bad for our family and bad for business.’ So I told him to get the hell out of town and I’d take care of it.”

  “Then you called your father?”

  “Yes, as you know, he lives right down the hill. I told him what happened, and he came right over. We debated what to do, but we didn’t have much time, because the bodies were already cold.”

  “Whose idea was it to shoot a dead man?”

  “My dad’s. He said it would look like Simon had shot himself out of despair that Victoria had OD’d. I tried to talk him out of it, but ‘stubborn’ is his middle name. We carried Simon’s body up to the balcony in a sheet, and my dad shot him in the head. There wasn’t much blood there, because he was already dead when my dad shot him, but I cleaned it up as fast and as well as I could. My dad wanted to dump his body over the balcony, so it would look like he’d fallen after shooting himself, but that’s where I drew the line. I said that was almost physically impossible, because the railing is too high, and dead men don’t catapult themselves over balconies. That’s why we carried him downstairs to the patio, so it would look like he shot himself there. I removed the rest of the bullets from the gun, put one in Victoria’s purse and put the rest in my pocket. Then we wiped off the gun and placed it next to Simon. I put the bloody towels and sheet in a plastic bag and took it with me when we left.”

  “It never occurred to you that someone else might have killed Victoria?”

  “No. Who would do that? And why?”

  “If what you’re saying is true, at least some of the crime scene makes sense. But there’s no heroin or other recreational drugs in her system, and not enough of the oxy or Xanax to kill her. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Okay. But I wasn’t being paranoid, because you wouldn’t have dragged Alex back from the Caymans unless he was a suspect. Or is there really a federal financial investigation?”

  “Yes, there really is, and he was also one of the last people, if not the last person to see her alive. Innocent men don’t run.”

  “That’s what I said, but he’s never been violent before. And he loved her. We both did. I never thought he would purposely hurt her; it was more that he was reckless and they were both addicts. Best case, I hoped it was some kind of tragic accident. So, my dad and I are suspects too?”

  “We’re looking at your whole family, because this was no accident. But even if your new story bears out, you’re not off the hook, because you’ve both admitted to messing with the crime scene. So, we’ve got you on evidence tampering and obstruction for sure.”

  When Goode left the room, Michael was staring glumly at the table and shaking his head.

  Outside in the hallway, Stone was baffled by Michael’s confession. “How can two smart men be so dumb?”

  “My guess is they don’t watch enough crime shows,” Goode said. “I was thinking we should hold them overnight, but now I’m thinking we should let the rats run loose in a few hours to watch them bite each other. My gut says we’ll know a lot more within the next twenty-four or forty-eight hours. I’m going back over to the nurse’s condo right now. If she’s there, I’ll bring her in for questioning.”

  “We’ll be waiting. Call if you need backup.”

  Chapter 45

  Katrina

  Thursday

  By eight o’clock, Katrina had updated her story with the new developments. As she waited for Joanne to do the final read before sending it to Big Ed, she tried calling Goode one last time. But after getting his voicemail again, she called Regina Russell.

  This might be a coincidence, but maybe not. La Jolla is a small town of wealthy elites who know each other. If this Filipina nurse is Darren McMurphy’s girlfriend, that would put her squarely into Dr. Fontaine’s orbit.

  Regina sounded distracted, getting her kids ready for bed.

  “Sarah, stop biting your brother!” she said. “Sorry. Darren McMurphy? Yeah, he’s part of my dad’s golf foursome, with Simon and some of the other board members. He’s never bothered with me, because I’m married and not his type, but I know he’s been seeing Espee for a while.”

  “Who’s Espee?”

  “Our nurse, Esperanza. The stories that woman tells us, you wouldn’t believe the man’s sex drive and stamina. It’s like he always wants to do it where they’re in danger of getting caught. He’s definitely more than I could handle, but Espee seems to like it. That, or she doesn’t want to make waves before she gets that nice house in La Jolla she’s always wanted.”

  Now please tell me she’s Filipino.

  “What’s her last name?”

  “Cepeda.”

  “Is she Mexican?” Katrina asked, disappointed.

  “No, actually, she’s Filipino.”

  Katrina smiled. “Did you see her last Friday morning?” she asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.

  “No, I had the day off. She was supposed to assist Dr. Fontaine with a surgery, but it got cancelled, so he closed up shop. My dad already had the day off to play golf.”

  “Would you mind texting me her number? I want to see how she’s taking all of this.”

  A minute later, Regina texted her the number with this message​​: Just wait till you have kids. I need a martini!​​

  Katrina got Esperanza’s voicemail, so she left a message, asking for a return call.

  With that, Katrina ran to Joanne’s office, where she came to a halt in the doorway. John Palmer was sitting in front of Joanne’s computer, where Katrina could see him typing changes into her story.

  What the hell?

  Joanne, who was standing to the side, mouthed to her silently: “Did you keep a copy?”

  Katrina nodded. She always did. Ever since an editor at the Record accidentally deleted a story she’d spent three weeks writing, forcing her to reconstruct it from memory.

  “That’s better. You ladies read it over, then I’ll send it to the lawyer,” he said and walked out.

  Joanne gasped audibly as she started to read his changes. “Go get Linda.”

  Katrina didn’t relish the task and approached Linda’s open door with caution. “Knock, knock,” she said.

  Linda glanced up from her computer, her eyes droopy and tired. “Hi. I hear you’ve got another big story. Congratulations.”

  “Joanne needs to talk to you right away. John Palmer made a bunch of edits to my story.”

  “Shit,” she muttered. “Are you effing kidding me?”

  Wrenching herself out of her chair, she headed for Joanne’s office, with Katrina on her heels.

  “Give us a few minutes,” Linda said curtly, closing the door in her face.

  Katrina’s cheeks felt hot to the touch, as if she’d been slapped. But she knew Linda must be furious after already giving John Palmer an ultimatum that he’d boldly ignored. Returning to her desk, Katrina saw that her red message light was on.

  “I’m a pharmacist, but I can’t give you my name,” the female caller said. “I was reading your stories this week when I remembered that Dr. Simon Fontaine’s office called in prescriptions for Xanax and oxycodone to our pharmacy on Friday morning for his daughter, Victoria. When I read that she was pregnant, the alarm bells went off for me. Pregnant women shouldn’t take these meds, and definitely not together. As a doctor, her father should know they could harm the baby or even cause the mother to overdose, even in small doses, but especially in combination. Remember Heath Ledger?”

  Katrina wondered if Goode would confirm that Victoria’s prescriptions were dated the day she died.

  Ten minutes later, Joanne motioned for Katrina as Linda strode mightily toward the corner office.

  “She’s going to read him the riot act,” Joanne said. “I’m glad she’s taking that on. I can’t take a man seriously who puts blond highlights in his hair.”

  “I’ve got some news,” Katrina said excitedly, relaying the tip from the pharmacist and the confirmation that Darren McMurphy’s girlfriend was not only Filipino, but also was Dr. Fontaine’s surgical nurse, and possibly was the woman in the video who had delivered drugs to Victoria.

  “That’s all interesting, but we can’t quote an anonymous pharmacist. Call Goode again to see if he’ll confirm those drugs were at the scene, and ask him what he knows about the nurse.”

  Katrina tried to reach the detective again, but still no answer. Clearly, he had his hands full.

  While John Palmer sulked in his office, Katrina and Joanne revised the updated story to its earlier iteration and posted it at ten thirty. They also had to redo the front and jump pages of the print version, cutting it to fit the holes they’d saved.

  “Go home and get some sleep,” Joanne told her. “We’ll be back at it bright and early. You did good today, kiddo.”

  Chapter 46

  Goode

  Thursday

  Jumping into his SUV, Goode roared off toward University City. But the lights were off at Esperanza’s place, no one answered the door, and she didn’t answer her cell when he called. Her driveway was also empty, though her car could be inside the garage.

  “Dammit,” he said.

  Calling Stone, he said, “Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s passed out by now and unable to give a coherent statement, but I had to try. If I can figure out where McMurphy lives, I can try to catch her there in the morning. Can you guys get his address from one of those clowns? Don’t say what it’s for.”