Page 19 of Little Last Words
Outside, Sadie threw the ball, and Luka took off after it. Every so often Sadie would turn, craning her neck to see if her grandmother was still watching. Each time, Angelica gave her a slight wave and a smile. Beneath her smile was an air of sadness—sadness for a granddaughter who would never see her mother again. And just as much sadness for herself, I supposed, for a mother whose only child was dead.
“I’d like to take Sadie home with me now,” Angelica said.
“Of course,” I said. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions first.”
She eyed me with curiosity. “Why? You have my utmost appreciation as I’ve said. The police can take it from here.”
Maybe they could, but I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.
“When you spoke to Hunter on the phone, did she mention what line of business we’re in?” I asked.
“She did. You’re a private detective agency. I imagine you spend your days doing background checks on people, finding lost loved ones, that sort of thing.”
“In part. Hunter oversees those inquiries. I specialize in homicide investigations, as does Simone Bonet, my other associate.”
She raised a brow. “Oh, I see.”
“When I met your granddaughter this morning, and I realized what had happened to your daughter, not only in my own neighborhood, but on my street …”
“It rattled you, of course, as it would anyone. What about it?”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m the type of person who has a hard time stepping back when things like this happen, whether it’s in my own backyard or it isn’t. The fact that it is in my neighborhood piques my interest even more.”
She stared at me for a time, and then said, “Is this a shakedown? Are you asking me for money?”
“What? No. I’m asking you for information.”
“What sort of information?”
“I’d like to know more about your daughter.”
“Telling you her life history won’t change what’s happened.”
“It might help me figure out why it happened,” I said. “Do you know anyone who would want to harm your daughter?”
“I do not. She was the sweetest child, kind to a fault.”
She averted her eyes, trying her best to maintain her composure.
“Did anything happen in the weeks prior to Penelope’s death that could explain it?” I asked.
“Nothing I’m aware of, no.”
I didn’t believe her.
There must have been something.
“What about Penelope’s estranged husband?” I asked.
“What about him?”
“What kind of person is he?”
“He’s beneath my daughter in every sense of the word. Why do you ask?”
“Sadie told me the police were called to their home some time ago. As I understand it, Sadie’s not supposed to talk to him or see him.”
Angelica brushed a hand through the air. “Sadie’s a child. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”