said, ‘I hope I don’t get in trouble.’ Like he was asking her to do something illegal. I asked her what, but she wouldn’t say. She changed the subject.”
“I also need to ask you where you were Wednesday evening between seven forty and eight o’clock.” Matt could not think of any motivation for Shannon to have killed Paul, but then again, they didn’t know why he’d been murdered yet. An alibi would make it easier to cross Shannon off the list.
“I took Chicken to the vet.” She lifted her purse off the table. “His appetite has been off. I think I still have the receipt here.” She produced a crumpled piece of paper and smoothed out the wrinkles.
“I’d like to make a copy of that.” Matt glanced at the paper. The register receipt was time-stamped seven forty-six. He would follow up, but it seemed Shannon hadn’t killed Paul Beckett.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
Matt left the room and ran off a copy on the machine in the conference room. He came back and gave her the original, which she shoved into her purse.
“What did the vet say?”
“She didn’t find anything wrong with him.” She lifted a shoulder.
“Rescues, especially nervous ones, can take months to adjust to their new homes.” Matt frowned.
“She said he might be picking up on my emotions.” She worried her lip.
“Dogs can be very sensitive,” Matt said. “I’m sure he’ll be OK. Thanks again for coming in.”
She smiled back at him. “Thank you for working so hard to find my sister’s killer.”
Matt walked her out, then returned to the monitoring room. Bree was holding her arm against her body as if the pain was getting worse. “You heard her alibi?”
“I did.” Bree sounded doubtful.
“You don’t believe her?”
“I don’t know.” She chewed on her lip. “But there’s something nagging me about her interview.”
“I know the vet. Let me call them.” Matt lifted his phone. After speaking with the receptionist, he texted a photo of Shannon to the vet’s office to confirm her ID. He set down his phone. “It was her.”
Bree shook her head, rewound the interview, and watched it again. “She didn’t give us any new information.”
“Except she didn’t think Holly was having sex with Paul either,” Matt said. “And she has a solid alibi.”
“So, we’re back to Angela.” Bree checked the time on her phone. “Who will be here with her attorney any minute. She left a message while you were interviewing Shannon. Angela sounded angry.”
“This should be fun.” Matt scratched his chin.
Bree lifted a folder in her lap. “We received the financials for Beckett Construction. Holly was Paul’s bookkeeper. She also had more cash than she should have. Could Paul have been paying her to do something illegal for him?” She shook the file. “Maybe the answer is in here.”
“Do you want me to go through them?” Matt offered.
Bree shook her head. “No. I need to go home tonight. I promised Kayla.” Her small smile was wry. “But I’m going to review these later. Do you want to come for dinner?”
“Yes. What’s Dana making?” Matt had finished his dad’s pot roast, and he wasn’t in the mood to cook. Besides, Dana was a master in the kitchen.
“I’ll ask.” Still smiling, Bree picked up her phone and sent a text. Her phone vibrated a few seconds later. “Tortellini with prosciutto and peas.”
“I’m in.”
Someone knocked on the door, and Marge stuck her head in. “Angela Beckett and her attorney are here.”
Matt rubbed his hands together. “How do you want to do this?”
“We’ll both go in. Two on two. Besides, I wanted Owen and Shannon to feel comfortable to get them talking. Angela needs a different approach.”
“Let’s do this.”
Bree shook her head. “I need coffee, and Angela needs to marinate for a few minutes.”
They stopped in the break room for two coffees.
“Do you want another pack of candy?” Matt asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve had more than enough.”
He handed her the coffee. They sipped for ten minutes before heading to the interview room. The attorney sat at the table. Disappointment slid through Matt. The lawyer’s eyes were steely gray and sharp. He wore a custom-fitted suit of deep navy blue and a pricey pale-blue silk tie, but the briefcase on the table in front of him was battered and worn. He was expensive, confident, and experienced. There would be no bullshitting him or goading his client into her own confession.
Angela paced the narrow aisle behind his chair. She spun on one heel as they entered the room. If her eyes could have shot