“Not now,” Jessica said, without taking her eyes off Darla.

“Um, okay.” The waitress disappeared out back to the kitchen.

“What do you mean Eleanor is dead because of you?” Jessica asked.

Darla wiped under each eye with her thumb, scraping away tears and mascara.

She said, “I might not have stuck that knife in her myself, but I might as well have. I was at Eleanor’s place the night she died. Earlier in the evening, that is. I wasn’t there when it happened. I wish I had been. Maybe I could have stopped it.”

Jessica nodded. “I’ve read the witness statement you gave to the detectives who were investigating the murder. I also read Ace Freeman’s statement. He claimed you were upset when you arrived at the bar that night. Seemed to think you and Eleanor had some sort of fight.”

Darla was silent. She fidgeted with the bangles. Eventually, she said, “We did argue. We argued plenty of other times, too, of course. I mean, we weren’t much older than kids. The difference is this time, we never got a chance to make up. The last words I spoke to Eleanor were said in anger, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“What did you argue about?”

The woman sighed. “The evening started off well enough. Good fun. A typical Friday night. Drinking wine, smoking cigarettes, listening to music. Then Eleanor told me she was leaving.”

“She was leaving Eagle Rock?”

Darla nodded. “Eagle Rock. LA. Maybe even the state. Said she was taking Alicia, and she wasn’t going to tell Robbie. Was probably going to leave him a note. That’s why I got so mad. Sure, I would have missed her when she’d gone, but to treat Robbie like that wasn’t right. He loved that kid like she was his own.”

Like she was his own.

Jessica was stunned. Was Darla telling her Tony wasn’t her father? She needed a moment to compose herself before continuing with the questions.

“When was Eleanor planning on leaving?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Darla said. “I’d guess a couple of weeks at most. Eleanor told me she was waiting for some money, and then she would be gone. Wouldn’t even tell me where she was planning on heading.”

“What money?”

“I don’t know. From some guy, I think.”

Jessica found the envelope with the photos from the murder house in her bag. The fifty grand was still in the Thrifty’s bag, still burning a hole in her glove compartment, masquerading as deodorant sticks and shampoo.

Jessica handed over the envelope. “What do you know about these photos?”

Darla slid out the prints and flipped through each one of them. “Looks like Eleanor with a bunch of guys. No big deal. She never wanted for male attention and company.”