Which would probably be searched. “Those are standard policies. Not a problem.”

“Good.” She tilted her head. “How did you learn about us?”

“I found you online. I was looking for a position as a nursing assistant and applied for about a dozen positions. You’re the first to call me in for an interview. As I said on the phone this morning, I was surprised you called me so quickly.”

“You don’t know any former patients or other employees of our facility?”

“No, ma’am. I’m relatively new to Sacramento. I don’t know many people yet. It’s been a little difficult to reintegrate with civilians after my discharge.”

“I can imagine. You have no family here in Sacramento?”

“No, ma’am. My family is gone.”

Sinclair’s expression softened in sympathy. “What happened?”

Like you haven’t looked me up six ways to Tuesday. “My mother died of cancer. My sister was murdered.”

“How horrible.”

“It was. I was only a few months from high school graduation. I somehow made it through, and then, after that, I joined up.”

“You have a stellar military record. How did you get the job at the veterans’ home? It appears you started just a few weeks after your discharge?”

Liza told her what she’d told Irina—the truth. “My nursing school advisor helped me. She’d been in the army and took me under her wing.”

“So you’ll be starting school soon?”

“July, ma’am.”

“Would you be staying on here as well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she lied. “I’m not wealthy. I need to eat.”

“But surely you have funds. Your husband’s death benefits. Didn’t you receive those?”

Liza flinched, not expecting that question. It was also none of this woman’s business. But she answered, because on this point she could be honest. “I did. I put enough away for tuition and lab fees, textbooks, that kind of thing. I put most of Fritz’s money in a trust for his family. He’d have wanted his parents to have a retirement cushion.”

“How kind of you,” Sinclair said, and she sounded so sincere that Liza wondered if the woman knew that they harbored a criminal like Pastor. But of course she knew. Molina and Raeburn had prepped Liza on the nature of the facility’s clientele. Mostly celebrities, but a fair share of drug kingpins and mafia bosses.

Liza shrugged uncomfortably. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask you about your husband. I hope I didn’t offend.”

“Of course not.”

“I assumed that it had been a long time since his death. I was surprised to see it upset you.”

Aren’t you the bitch? “How long is long enough?” Liza asked, thinking about Tom and Tory and their unborn child. “I saw Fritz die, so perhaps my feelings are a bit more raw.”

Sinclair nodded. “I suppose they would be. How do you feel about children?”

Liza frowned. “I don’t think you’re allowed to ask if I have children or plans to have any.”

Sinclair chuckled. “No, I meant in a general sense. Can you deal with a pediatric patient?”