“Arcata, California, originally. But I’ve lived in San Francisco since I was eighteen.”
“How old are you now?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Quite the age difference. Harris is thirty-eight. You can’t help judging a wealthy businessman who dates a much younger woman—his secretary, no less. Is it because those men are searching for someone who is inherently inferior, someone who won’t challenge them? Joanna was approaching her thirty-fifth birthday. Something tells me she was more headstrong than the pretty, nervous young woman in front of me.
“How long have you and Mr. Harris been dating?”
“Since August.” Her voice is soft.
Five months, I note.
“How’d you meet?”
“I heard his company was hiring. At the end of July I came in to apply for a secretarial position, and by the end of August, we were dating. Then, out of the blue”—she caresses her stomach, and smiles—“we were pregnant.”
“I had no idea,” I lie. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks warm with a pink blush. “We’re very excited.”
The fact that Harris had impregnated another woman while still married to Joanna strikes me as intriguing. Why not file for divorce? Maybe because he knew his wife was buried four feet under in the grove across the street.
“Did you know Joanna Harris?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
“No. When I applied for the position, she’d already been gone for a couple of weeks. People at the company talked about her of course, and I’m living in her home now, so I guess I feel like I know her in a sense.” She fiddles with the handle of her mug. She hasn’t touched the decaf. “But in person, no.”
“When you say, ‘she’d already been gone,’ what does that mean to you?”
Her gaze flips up to mine. “She went to Los Angeles to be with her sister.”
“You’re certain?”
She nods.
I take a note on the pad lying on the table in front of me. “How do you know that’s where Joanna went?”
“Michael told me.”
“Mmm.” I make a note of that too. “Do you know her sister?”
“No, not at all,” she says, and I believe her. “Do you think she might’ve had something to do with Joanna’s murder?”
“Right now we’re looking into every possible scenario.”
It’s my standard answer, but in fact the sister has already been ruled out as a suspect. When she came in for the DNA swab, she’d been out of the country since June. So if Joanna went to L.A. at all, it wasn’t to see her sister.
Colleen glances over her shoulder, in the direction of the room we’d just left. “But you don’t think Michael had anything to do with it, do you?”
I wait before replying, making sure my next words are the right ones. “We’re gathering as much information as we can to make sure Joanna’s killer is brought to justice. That’s why you two are here. To assist us in the investigation.”
At this, she seems to relax a little. “I’ll help any way I can.”
“Thank you, Colleen,” I tell her. “We’re counting on it. I just have a few more questions, if you wouldn’t mind.”
She nods.
“We’re assuming you know all of Mr. Harris’s staff. But has he introduced you to his neighbors, the Martins, yet?”
MICHAEL
I wonder what they’re talking about in there.
I can’t make out what Colleen is saying, but I hope that bastard Shaw isn’t making her too uncomfortable. Moving to Point Reina was supposed to alleviate her stress.
And now this.
Christ, what a mess.
“Mr. Harris?” Patel asks, drawing my attention back to him. “Are you all right?”
Patel’s eyes are black as night. I have trouble looking directly at him.