Part 13 (1/2)

Clay opened the door. ”See? We're all good.” He smiled. ”I'll catch you in a bit.”

After he closed the door, Officer Moran pulled out the chair next to hers. ”Have a seat and enjoy the show.”

Keeping her coat on and her purse tight to her chest, she sat next to the woman. ”Thank you, officer.”

”Since we'll be here for a while, let's get rid of the officer bit. My name's Jamie.” She adjusted the video camera, just as Clay and his partner stepped into the interview room.

”Where are the others?” Celeste asked.

”They're being held in separate rooms until it's their turn to be interviewed.” Jamie glanced at her. ”Clay said one of the suspects is a friend of yours.”

She nodded and pointed toward the mirror. ”This guy is her husband.”

”Too bad.”

Before Celeste had the chance to ask why Jamie thought that, Clay started the interview. ”Mr. Graney, where were you late Tuesday night?” Clay asked.

”At home,” Dale answered. ”With my wife and daughter.”

”What about Wednesday?” Clay's partner asked.

”I didn't catch the other detective's name,” Celeste whispered.

Jamie grinned. ”He's Detective Ben Mathews. And you don't need to whisper. The suspect can't hear you.”

Dale clenched his jaw. ”Are you accusing me of killing my mother-in-law?”

Clay held up his hands. ”No one is accusing you of anything. We're just talking.”

”Talking a lot of bulls.h.i.+t.” Dale rested both of his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. ”Look, Sandra didn't like me. Honestly, I didn't like her, either. She was always in our business, thought that Kelly could do better than me, that our house was s.h.i.+t, that I didn't earn enough.” He dropped his hands. ”I bust my a.s.s every single day. I'm up for a promotion come April. If I get it, I'll have the opportunity to run my department. It's no secret Sandra and I didn't get along. But I wouldn't jeopardize my career and kill a woman who was already dying. What's the point?”

”How about money?” Mathews asked. ”I'd say over four hundred thousand dollars is a valid point.” He shrugged. ”'Cause that's about what your wife will inherit. I imagine that amount of money would help out a guy who's only bringing in one hundred and fifty grand a year. Then there's your debt.”

”Yeah,” Clay began, ”you and your wife have been having some fun with the credit cards.”

Dale narrowed his eyes. ”We have debt, who doesn't?” He leaned back in his chair. ”Don't waste my time. Check our credit, I don't give a s.h.i.+t. I've got nothing to hide.”

”Do you think Sandra did?” Clay asked.

”I don't know what you mean.”

”Do you own a gun?” Mathews asked, instead.

Dale frowned. ”I thought Sandra died of an overdose.”

Mathews sat at the edge of the desk. ”Just answer the question.”

”No gun.”

”Okay, then tell us what you know about Tracy Saunders?”

Dale's face contorted in confusion. ”Who?”

”She died the same day Sandra did,” Clay said. ”What's interesting is that Tracy was Sandra's daughter.”

”What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?” Dale looked between both detectives. ”Holy s.h.i.+t. Are you telling me Sandra had a kid no one knew about?”

”That's right. According to the medical examiner, Tracy Saunders died sometime between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. Can you tell us where you were during those times?”

Dale rolled his eyes. ”Tuesday, I went to work and didn't get home until around six.”

”And Wednesday?”

”I was at work.”

”All day?” Mathews asked.

Dale s.h.i.+fted his eyes to the desk. ”Look, I work hard-”

”So you'd said. Just answer the question or should we call your supervisor and confirm your whereabouts?”

Dale's face reddened as he shook his head. ”Fine. I wasn't at work in the afternoon, but I was there in the morning.”

”Where were you in the afternoon, Mr. Graney?”

”La Quinta Inn on South Franklin Street.” Dale pushed a hand through his hair. ”With my girlfriend.”

Both detectives looked at each other, then Clay asked, ”What time?”

”We met around one and I left at four-thirty, after Kelly called to tell me Sandra died.”

Clay placed a pad of paper and a pen in front of Dale. ”We'll need your girlfriend's name, the room number you stayed in and a receipt. We'll also need your supervisor's contact information.”

Dale picked up the pen. ”Are you going to tell my wife?” he asked, the guilt crossing his face matching Celeste's. Oh, my G.o.d. Now Kelly would not only have to deal with knowing someone had murdered her mother, but also a philandering husband.

”That she has a secret half-sister whose been murdered, or that her husband cheated on her?” Detective Mathews asked.

”In other words,” Clay began, ”murder trumps affair.”

”That's all for now, Mr. Graney,” Mathews said. ”You're free to go.”

Celeste jerked back when Dale slammed his hands against the table. As he stood, he shoved the paper he'd just written on off the desk. ”This is bulls.h.i.+t. Your ridiculous accusations could cause a problem with my marriage and-”

”Thanks again for your time,” Clay said, then nodded to the officer standing near the door.

”Looks like Dale is screwed,” Jamie said, as she stopped the video camera.

”Looks like he didn't do it.” Celeste watched as Dale was escorted from the room. There had been times in her life where she'd wished she could be a fly on the wall. Now that she was one, she didn't like it. She didn't want to know anything about Dale's affair, or that he and Kelly were having financial problems. She wanted to go back to before Sandra's death, when she wasn't having visions or trances and had been oblivious to her friend's personal problems.

”Maybe,” Jamie said. ”Clay and Ben will follow up on his alibis. People like to lie.”