in. I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she said. “But this is so hard.”
“I know it must be,” I said, crossing the room. “May I sit?” I gestured at a poufy, ultrafeminine, tufted, fringed velvet chair near the bed. As I walked, I took in the entire room, from the closet that was bigger than my entire bedroom (and that looked as if it had been trashed by a robber) to the burled wood furniture, to the marble-tiled en suite bathroom visible through a partially open door.
“Why not,” Tondra said. She rewiped her face and tugged the thick coverlet over her legs and feet.
I pulled my tablet and sent a quick text to T. Laine, telling her I had come upon the family and would initiate the preliminary questioning. I moved the chair a bit and sat so I could see into the closet and the mess on the floor. A pile of clothing had been dropped and all of it was a rich shade of fuchsia pink. Hanging on the rods were clothes of many colors. But all the pink was on the floor. Odd. Unless Stella Mae wore pink on the road? Onstage? I’d need to check that out.
I wished I had the unit’s empath, Tandy, or Margot—a former FBI agent, currently PsyLED probie special agent, who had truth-sensing abilities—with me. Both of them were better at questioning people, but I had orders to get things started, and T. Laine, who was a higher pay grade than me, had told me to start up a chat if the opportunity presented itself. I looked up and sighed. “I hate this part a my job. Trying to talk to family when they’re grieving.”
“You catch the monster what did this and you can question me all you want,” Tondra said, curling upright and crossing her legs into a yoga position beneath the covers. She had to be nearly as old as my mama, but she was as limber as a child, and her hair looked expensive, as if it had been styled and colored by someone from Hollywood. She introduced her daughters and herself and said, “Shoot.”
“Thank you. Some of these questions might sound personal, but I promise I’m not asking for no reason. First, have there been any threats on Stella’s life? Any harassing e-mails or letters or texts?”
“Dozens every day,” Josette said, her fingers scratching lazy circles on her belly. “She hired a security firm last year. They handle everything: tour security, electronic threats, and making sure the property is safe. And that includes making sure the horses are safe. The house has security—cameras, lasers, that kinda thing—mostly for when Stella was out of town. The barn is wired too.”
“I’ve got a card with the firm’s contact info in my bag somewhere,” Tondra said, pulling a leather purse to her and delving inside. Papers crinkled and heavier things rattled and scraped. “It’s here somewhere. I’ve done sent word to the company that they’re to be completely open with you on everything.”
Josette started to speak and stopped. I wondered why. “What about a will? Life insurance?” I asked.
“Stella Mae’s lawyer has all the legal documents. We’re the heirs,” Stella’s mama said, “and Catriona.”
I couldn’t keep the reaction off my face. “I thought she just met Catriona.”
Last year was the same general time frame that the security firm had been hired. I made a note about that and said slowly, as if thinking it through, “The FBI might consider her being an heir a possible motive.”
“No. Not Cattie. She’s had everything she wanted. She’s family,” Tondra said, tearing up, grief washing down her face, scalding her chapped skin. I wasn’t an empath, but I knew Tondra was speaking the truth as she knew it.
“And besides,” Sophee Anne said, “financially speaking, Stella was worth way more to us all alive than dead, even with the coffin-rider sales. No one had a reason to want her killed.”
“Coffin-rider sales?” I asked.
“Sales that come when a singer dies,” Sophee Anne said. “People download so much music it actually makes money. Sometimes a lot of money. But not enough to replace the take from touring and not enough to replace her. Not enough to kill for.”
“Life insurance?”
“Life insurance is for poor people,” Josette scoffed.
I couldn’t help my eyebrows going up when I said, “Poor people?”
“To pay off outstanding bills and provide for the family,” Tondra said. “Stella done all that already. My girl always thought ahead.