Oscar's driving, I'm in the passenger seat, and Dara's in the back asking Oscar a million questions about what happened, what he likes, what's hunting like, how she's never been, but it sounds interesting. He answered all her questions without pausing, except when she asked if Oscar's girlfriend could vouch for him that night. He paused a half-second, said he didn't have one.
I looked back at her, tried to give her a look to tell her to shut up. Not that I was trying to be her dad, but Don is her dad, and he'd take it out on me if anything happened to her. Besides, aside from taking their money and doing business, you can't get involved with clients. I took over the conversation, started asking for more details, asking him to remind me about crime scene details I made up, see if I could trip him up. No dice.
Dr. Peterson married Sara Donaldson three years ago in one of them social light [Socialite, not that Trace cares. He considers the entire group slobs and dames. -Dara] weddings, all glitz and diamonds and cakes taller than me. Fairy-tale wedding, except that life went on after it ended. Doc and his wife got along just fine, Oscar said, and her two daughters loved everything Doc bought em. The three Donaldsons were all the kind of dame would only go home cause the bars and clubs finally closed. Had to look perfect all the time cause of all the poppa ROT-C [Paparazzi. -Dara] they batted their eyes at.
Not a surprise they wouldn't get along with a down to earth guy like Oscar. That all the Doc's money was gonna go to Oscar probably didn't make things any better.
I asked him about Sara's ex. Some hotshot producer, already got remarried for the seventh time. Two more, somebody would give him the tenth free. Aside from the gun, no one took anything from the house. Whoever it was broke in, killed em, left. Made it seem like Oscar even more. Why steal from your own house? Had to be someone that knew either the Doc or his wife. More I thought about it, more I thought Oscar made the most sense.
Only other choice at this point was revenge, far as I could see, if Oscar was telling the whole truth. But he wasn't, not with that girlfriend comment. He was covering something up.
First thing I notice when I walk in the Peterson estate is how clean it smelled, all lemon and sugar, like an upscale bakery. Two giant flights of stairs curved up to the upper level. Lot of sparkly clean white tile. I stood out like a curse word from a three year old.
Oscar led us to the kitchen, where the cops and the maid already come and gone. Lots of smooth metal surfaces, lots of cabinet doors. The whole thing was bigger than my office. He walked us around, showed us where he found the bodies. His face was kind of tight when he talked about finding them. Dara got on her tiptoes, put her hand on his shoulder.
He found his stepmom face up on the island counter, his dad on his back on the ground, pool of blood surrounding his head. Could still see a rusty stain near where the carpet started, some spotting towards the far wall, where the bullet flew.
Oscar said the cops told him there was a fight, but they didn't tell him what they found. I walked over to the far wall, knelt down. My knees popped like someone cracked a chalkboard. Towards the ground, a bullet hole with cracks coming out of it in the plaster. Traced the angle, and it had to come from a few inches above the floor. Lot of suicides didn't lie down first. If he was down, probably meant someone held him down.
Oscar looked like he could lift a deer carcass after he gutted it. Wouldn't be much work to hold his dead dad down.
I went over to where he said the stepmom fell. A little weird she didn't fall off the counter. I asked him if his dad had a will. He did. Oscar told me what I thought, that he got everything. Pretty old, before Dr. Peterson met his new wife. I told him to give Dara a copy, told her to read it and start earning her pay. I also asked if he was ever gonna cut in his new family on the fortune. Oscar got quiet and shrugged, said he didn't know.
No comments:
Post a Comment