“You really think somebody hurt Mom on purpose, to get out of the club?”

“It doesn’t seem likely, what we’re learning,” O’Neil said.

“If they did,” the girl said, “I don’t really blame them. What happened that night, the panic and everything. It wasn’t human beings doing that. Like you can’t blame a tornado or an earthquake. They don’t think, they don’t plan on doing anything bad. They just happen.”

Chapter 69

At her desk, O’Neil beside her, Dance answered the phone. “’Lo?”

“Boss.”

“TJ. On speaker with Michael,” Dance told him.

“Hey, Michael. I love it when people say they’re on speaker. Think of all the juicy things they were about to say but can’t.”

“TJ?” Dance cleared her throat.

“I pulled strings and got into the courthouse. Yes, on Sunday. The girl’s story checks out. Trish. It’s confirmed. I read the settlement agreement and court documents, talked to the lawyers. Frederick Martin had zero to gain if his ex was gone. He had negative to gain—except it’s not like you gain anything negative. You know. Anyway, it’s going to cost him a lot now that she’s dead. Michelle didn’t leave much to her daughter either. The house, in trust, is hers but it’s mortgaged to the throat. Trish gets a small stipend. Somebody named Juan got the rest but it’s only fifty K. Not worth killing for. Yep, I said, Juan. I’m betting the pool boy.”

Dance sighed.

“Good theory, though, boss. You’ve got two more fatalities at Solitude Creek. Maybe they were the intended victims.”

O’Neil said, “We thought of that and I looked at them, TJ. One was a college student, one was a woman in her twenties—there with a bachelorette party. No motive that we could find.”

“Back to Square A. You need me in the office, boss?”

“No. Just track down that company in Nevada, the one doing the surveying work at Solitude Creek. Give me an update in the morning.”

“Will do, boss.” He disconnected.

O’Neil seemed preoccupied.

Dance looked at the time. She said, “Oh, wanted to ask. You do any more thinking about Maggie’s talent show? Tonight at seven?”

We might have plans. I’ll let you know. Bring a friend?

“Oh, I should’ve mentioned. Can’t make it. Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Sure. No worries.”

Together they walked out of the office and made their way to the exit. Dance noticed the Guzman Connection task force conference room was dark, Foster, Steve Two, Allerton and Gomez gone for the night.

In the parking lot O’Neil and Dance walked to their cars, parked beside each other.

“What a case, hmm?”

“Yep,” he replied. They stood together for a moment. Then he said, “’Night.”

That was all. She nodded. They got into the cruiser and the Pathfinder, respectively, and without another look they drove to the highway and turned in different directions.

A half hour later she was home.

“Mom!” Maggie was waiting on the front porch.

Dance had called and told her daughter she was on the way. But the girl looked agitated. Had she been concerned that Dance was going to be late? Or was she troubled that her mother had shown up on time and there was no excuse to miss the show? Even though Maggie’d changed her mind about singing at the show Dance knew she wasn’t looking forward to it.