appears Jocelyn’s sorority sisters were confused about the date. It turns out, Jocelyn might have lied about being at her apartment that night. Then, several months afterward, her friends remembered that she’d gone back home for her birthday.”
“When’s her birthday?”
“October 14th, the day after the murders.”
“What’s in the file is all very vague, isn’t it? It looks like you have a discrepancy, something tangible in the reports to bring up to Jocelyn. Because you obviously don’t want to tip your hand that Ben’s murder and the Copeland murders might be connected. At least, not yet.”
“True. That could be trickier than I first thought. Won’t she wonder why we’re there now, especially right after Ben’s death, showing up at her doorstep, asking questions?”
“We need to come up with a cover story, a reason to ask questions, but not enough to arouse her suspicion.” Gemma ambled over to the bank of windows that looked out on Water Street, crossed her arms to think.
After several long minutes, she snapped her fingers. “What if we tell her we received a grant from the federal government to look at cold cases? You’re there because you want to reopen the case and need to go over her story again. We make her believe that the files are a mess, make up some story about water damage from the storm Sunday night. You convince her you need her input to recreate where she was that night, to eliminate her as a suspect. It’s routine. You’re talking to everyone the Copelands knew. I’m there as mayor, as a bit of a skeptic. I’m not sure the case is solvable. Not sure we should throw money into the case. That sort of thing. We tell her there’s not much forensic evidence available. In other words, we lie. Together, we make Jocelyn believe that I don’t want you wasting time or money on a cold case that doesn’t warrant the grant money.”
Lando shoved to his feet. “My God, that’s brilliant. You must’ve been a damn good lawyer.”
“Not really. My heart was never in the job.”
“Then, I like the way your mind works. If you’re ready, let’s get to it. I’m anxious to hear what the woman has to say.”
By far, the largest house on Shell Bay belonged to Jocelyn Williams. In grand fashion, it sat apart from the rest of the neighborhood by taking up the entire end of the block. Built during the mid-1930s, the mission revival style house had added a touch of colonial through the years. As a throwback to another era, the original architect made sure he showed off all its unique features. From each bell tower to every gable, the estate was a picture-perfect example of the houses that spoke old money. From the separate balconies to the curved dormers, to its ornate statues out front, to its massive red barrel-tile roof, it could have starred in its own Hollywood movie.
Any other time, Gemma might have wanted to explore the grounds. But she doubted that would ever happen. For one thing, the two-story Williams house was enormous. It had an immaculate green lawn that stretched its way from front to back and around the corner to the expansive gardens, the cabana, and the pool house.
Lando drove past an iron gate to reach the circular driveway, which led to an arcaded porch. Gemma stared up at the beige stucco exterior covered in gnarled vines of English ivy.
“Wow. I remember trick or treating here as a kid. The Trask family didn’t own this back then.”
“Good memory. No, back when we were kids, the Trask family was still living on the ranch north of town.”
“Interesting. Does Jocelyn still own that property as well as the one near Moonlight Ridge?”
“Are you kidding? She owns it all.”
“And the plot thickens,” Gemma muttered as she followed Lando up to the front door.
A maid, dressed in a black uniform and a white apron, answered the door.
Gemma decided the outfit was a little over the top for Coyote Wells.
“My name is Lando Bonner, chief of police, here to see Mrs. Williams,” Lando began, flashing his badge.
“Is she expecting you?”
“No. But Mrs. Williams did agree to see me later in the week in my office. I decided our interview couldn’t wait that long. I need to talk to her today.”
“Mrs. Williams is out by the pool. I’ll tell her you’re here. Wait in the library. I’ll show you the way.”
After leading them down the hallway and into a large room off the main thoroughfare,