Sophia had drawn a breath, her eyes sparkling, and it looked as if she were about to launch into the intimacies of her relationship with James Cahill before Mendoza shut that down. Now, the young woman just looked irritated.

“It was a few months ago, I guess . . . It kind of just developed. We were working together more and more closely . . .” Her steady gaze slid to the side. “There was just this attraction. One you couldn’t fight. And then we were in bed, just loving each other. I’ve never felt so . . . womanly.”

Mendoza’s expression was unreadable. Before Sophia could elaborate, Rivers asked, “What about Megan Travers?”

The girl exhaled and shrugged. “It was over between them.”

“Did Megan know that?”

“Of course she knew. Women know.”

Mendoza prodded, “But James hadn’t told her.”

“I don’t think—I mean no, I’m sure he didn’t.”

For the first time, Sophia seemed uncomfortable; one hand reached up to fiddle with a tress of blond hair.

“So can you tell us where you were on Thursday?” asked Mendoza, clearly ready to get down to the pertinent facts.

“Sure.” Another shrug, this time with a swallow of Diet Pepsi. “I worked until six, in the office, drove into town and went home—no, not straight home.” She shook her head, pale hair skimming her shoulders. “First, I went to the gas station and filled up. My tank had been on empty for a day or two. I was practically driving on fumes, so I stopped down at the station on Sixth. After that, I picked up a salad at Charlie’s Deli and went home. I thought about hitting my yoga class but didn’t go as I was late, so I just showered and binge-watched three episodes of The Bachelor that I’d recorded.” She met Rivers’s gaze before looking at Mendoza again. “Exciting life, I know.”

More exciting than you’re admitting. At least that’s what he suspected. “Did you see James?”

Her eyebrows arched as she took another sip from her soda. “At work.”

“What about after work?”

She was already shaking her head. “Not until I went to the hospital. I heard about what happened at work the next day. Bobby Knowlton had told some of the staff, and we all knew. I busted down there to visit him.”

“That day?” Mendoza took a sip from her cup but didn’t stop typing.

“No. Well, yes. I mean, I went there, but I couldn’t see him because he was in a coma. I think the first time I really saw him and we talked was last Sunday. And he wasn’t all that great then, either.”

Rivers asked, “Did he tell you what happened to him?”

“He couldn’t remember, but obviously Megan was behind it.”

“Obviously?” Mendoza repeated.

“Well, yeah.” She stared at Mendoza as if she were dense. “The scratches on his face? Those were done by a woman.”