Este had hastily moved us into the pool house for privacy. There was a typical living room set up, couches chairs even a tv—all whimsically nautical—but we opted to stand.

         I wasted no time getting down to business. "What does Destiny want from you?"

          I knew the answer of course, just like Alexis had hired me to find the necklace, Destiny's weapon of choice was Este. But sometimes it was better to let people talk rather than accuse them of things you already knew they were doing.

          She tried to halt the trembling in her hands by massaging them together. "There's this necklace. It belonged to their mother. She wants it."

          "Is it missing?"

          She nodded. "Yes, but it went missing shortly before her death."

          "And what does Destiny think you can do?"

          "She thinks her sister took it." She paced toward a dining set and braced her hands on the top of a hard-backed chair carved into the shape of an octopus. "She wants me to go through her things and listen in while she talks."

          "Why all this over some jewelry?"

          "That necklace alone is worth fifteen million dollars."

          Shiiiiiieeeeeet... For fifteen million dollars that shit better had been timeshared between Jesus, Mohammad, and Buddha. I could think of much better things to buy with fifteen million dollars. A nice home, reliable vehicles, business investments, charitable donations, a harem of fine men from around the world, like, all the Game of Thrones memorabilia on the planet, oodles and oodles of shoes, a luxury bunker for the apocalypse, a seat on the first commercial space flight if the apocalypse bunker doesn't work out...

          Once I was done mentally colonizing Mars with a harem of the world's finest men to appease my latent sugar momma tendencies, I turned to her. "Last time we talked you said you saw Corrine hit Diana?"

          "Yes."

          "When was that?'

          "Months ago."

          "Have you ever seen Corrine abuse Diana in any other ways?"

          Her eyes rolled upward as she thought it over. "I saw her drug her."

          "With what?"

         "Don't know. It was late at night. Sometimes I can't sleep so I walk through the house." She released her iron grip on the back of the chair and paced the short distance between the wall mounted tv and the love seat. "When I walked by Ms. Diana's room Corrine was pushing some medicine into her line. It must have been two AM."

          "When was this?"

          "A few days before she died."

          So, it probably wasn't to kill her. "Has she ever done anything like that before?"

          She thought a moment. "Sometimes. When Ms. Diana was angry, she would fight. I don't think she remembered where she was most of the time."

          "...Any other time?"

          "Sometimes, they would ask me to help Corrine move her to and from the bath. There was no man in the house—well, there was Gabe, but he's useless. Anyway, when we'd move her back, Corrine would give her medicine in her I.V. But she wasn't in pain. She wasn't even awake."

          There was something to chew on. Corrine keeping her drugged just because she's lazy. That would line up perfectly with one of my running theories: death by accidental overdose. The other theory was much more malicious.

          One question about Este nagged at me. "Why are you helping her?"

         She quickly looked away. "There's a problem with my visa."

         "A problem? What problem?"

          "It's close to expiration. I've misplaced my passport and I'm not sure I'll be able to renew."

          "And Destiny can help with that?"

          "She promised me the best immigration lawyer money can buy."

          "For the necklace?"

          She shook her head. "At first she asked me to watch Ms. Diana and report back. She was trying to get in her good graces."

          "Why would she need to do that?"

          Her straightened hair was pulled back into a low bun that rest at the nape of her neck. She played with it as she considered answering me truthfully. "Years ago, they had a falling out. Destiny went and married this man Ms. Diana didn't approve of. They didn't speak again until the birth of the first grandchild, but it wasn't the same."

          Sounds like all the kids except Alexis were on the outs at one point or another with their mother. "How did Robert seem while Diana was dying?"

          She half-shrugged, half-sighed. "As you'd expect. Remorseful. Sad."

           "Did he come by very often?"

          "Couple times a week." Her eyes darted to the windows and back at me. "Sometimes if no one could answer the door he'd let himself in."

          "Let himself in?"

          "Robert's like family. He has a set of keys in case of emergency."

          Interesting. So Robert officially had opportunity to go along with his motive. "How was everyone when they found her that morning?"

          "The morning she died?"

          "Yeah?"

         "It was expected, but still...it was their mother."

          "How did Corrine seem?"

          "She was fine. Not much emotion but I wasn't in there that long. I had to clean the office."

          "What happened to the office?"

          "Woke up that morning and it was a wreck. Drawers open. Papers everywhere." She sucked her teeth in disgust; a deep frown settled across her brow. "Gabe probably got drunk again. Probably looking for liquor again. Ms. Diana was known to spike her coffee."

          Was someone looking for something? Did Robert use his key to break into the house to look for something in the office or was Este right and it was just Gabe on another bender?

          Este looked between me and the window again before nervously tapping her feet. "Is this all your questions? I must get back to work."

          "You know," I softened my voice until it was as sweet as honey. "I'm a private investigator. I could probably find your passport."

          She looked me over with an air of suspicion. "Why?"

          A twinge of guilt twisted at the black hole where my heart should be, but I ignored it. This was about business. "I would just need one small favor."

          "What sort of favor?" She asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

          "Access to the house."

          Her mouth dropped. "Why? To steal?"

          "No," I said with a vigorous shake of my head. "I'm not looking for something to pawn. I'm looking for information."

          "What sort of information?"

          "Just...look, I'm offering a guarantee that I can find your missing passport. All I want is one, maybe two hours to search the house."

          I didn't know why the passport was so important when presumably she could apply for another—assuming everything was on the up and up. But that was it, maybe it wasn't. I didn't know the whys of it, I only knew she was desperate. And desperation was exploitable.

          "I can't go back home," she said quietly. "I've lived here for seventeen years. My life is here. My children are here."

          "Take my card." I opened my card holder and slipped the Harper Investigations card into her hand. "Call me if you want my help."

          I'd made my move. Whether it was the right one was yet to be seen. Este could take the information back to Destiny, which would lose me a job. But, if she was as desperate as I thought, I'd get that call. And when I did the first place, I'd look was in that office.

******************

          The rest of my day was typical, I kept an eye on my phone waiting for Este's call, but she never did. When closing came I'd already made plans for my next move. The waning sun had set the sky ablaze in a swirl of pinks and reds when I pulled up into an empty space in front of Corrine's apartment. A warm light radiated from the lone street-facing window of her second story unit. She was home, and hopefully alone.

          On the porch I rang the doorbell and fiddled with a loose strand of cotton on my sweater as I waited. Though Robert, Gabe, and Malik had a personal connection with Diana, Corrine was an enigma. She had come in out of no where with the skill set necessary to pull off their scheme. But was she a murderer? Even accidentally?

          When she answered I was all business. "Hi. Can I come in?"

          She scowled and pulled the door closer together. "No, whatever you have to say you can say it out there."

          "Oh, okay. Well, I came to discuss you stealing from a dying woman but fine we can talk on the porch." I looked to the left and then the right with a dramatic flair. "Hold on. Let me make sure I project. I want to make sure the neighbors hear."

          "Fine! Come in." She stood to the side and let me walk slowly into a small and greatly cluttered living area. The tv was on, Netflix paused, and a plate of take-out was cooling on the coffee table.

          "What no offer of refreshments?"

          "What do you want from me?"

          "The truth!"

          Her hands found her hips as she roared in anger. "You already know the truth! She was old, she died!"

         "That's funny because the truth from my estimate sounds more like she was dying and the non-licensed nurse taking care of her drugged her just enough that she'd sign whatever shady document you put in front of her." I paused a moment to let her take all that in as I watched her expression for signs of guilt. "Am I in the neighborhood or should I add you keeping her drugged for your own benefit too?"

          "I don't know what you're talking about!"

         "It's so funny how that keeps happening to me. I must be speaking goddamn French over here."

          "Look, lady!" She took one great step until we were nose to nose. "I don't know who you are or what you want but you can get right the hell out of here with those crazy accusations!"

         "Nothing crazy about witnesses who saw you, Robert, and Malik drug her three days before she died." I was flying by the seat of my pants here, but from the fearful expression that washed over her features I was right on track. "Oh, now you know what I'm talking about, huh?"

          She stumbled back; her face awash in anguish. "What do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?"

          "I want you to confess to murdering her."

          "I didn't kill anyone! She died of cancer!" With that great burst of energy, she deflated like a balloon. She went to regain her seat on the sofa; her elbows on her knees and her fingers rubbing at her temples.

          "Right. And definitely not the un-prescribed opioids you were feeding her." I took a few steps toward her until I was standing in front of but not quite over her. "That's gonna hold up in court. My bad."

          "What'll it take to keep you quiet?"

          "Honesty," I said. "And the necklace."

          "No way. It's worth—"

          "I know what it's worth. And I know it doesn't belong to you." The only reason I hadn't told Alexis and/or Destiny that Corrine had what they were looking for was because I needed Corrine's cooperation. That would have been kind of hard to do with either sister raining hellfire down on her.

          We stared each other down until she inhaled and huffed out a curt, "Fine."

          She got up without another word and stomped down a hallway stuffed with almost packed cardboard boxes and disappeared into a room. When she came back, she tossed the necklace my way and slumped back on the sofa.

          I looked it over before stuffing it into my purse. "Why did you do it?"

          She sat up to look me in the eye. "Its millions of dollars."

          Right, stupid question. "Who came to you with this whole cockamamie plot?"

          "Malik."

          "Were you dating at the time?"

          She sighed. "Yeah."

          "What part did you play in all this?"

          "Isn't it obvious?"

          "I'd like to hear it."

         "Malik came to me with the plan. All I had to do was give her the drugs. The other two did the rest."

         "What kind of drugs was it?"

          "Just morphine."

          "Just morphine? You probably killed that woman playing around with that shit."

          "I didn't give her near enough for that!" She jumped up from her seat, her energy restored. "Just enough to keep her cognitive. It would've been like a dream to her. They tell her to sign, she does. She wakes the next morning not remembering a thing."

          "A victimless crime, huh?"

          "She was out of it most of the time anyway." Her eyes pleaded with me. She wanted so badly to believe Diana died of natural causes but something in her knew. It was tearing her up. "If she wasn't cursing everyone out, she was ranting and raving about conspiracies."

          "What sort of conspiracies?"

          "Bullshit mostly. She was chatty that night—more than usual. Rambling about ridiculous back room deals. I tuned her out like I always do."

          "Was she always like that at the end? So far gone?"

          "Yes. Most times she would ramble about conspiracies or the past. Sometimes it was like she thought it was still 1973. Sometimes she didn't recognize her own children. But rarely she did come out of it."

          "Except for those times you kept her drugged." I pointed at her. The accusatory finger between us was as thick as the air.

          "She was in pain!"

          "Was she? Or was it just easier to watch her die in her sleep?"

          "There's nothing easy about watching someone die!" She looked off; her fingers found her lips and her teeth gnawed at the nails. "I didn't like her. And yeah, I lost my cool sometimes, but I didn't give her morphine because it was easy. She was suffering."

         "Where was the family in all this?"

          "They were living their own lives." Her mouth twisted into a repulsed grimace. "I know it was my job, but it was a lot. I had to feed her and bathe her and take her abuse. They only stopped by to see if she was lucid and then they'd fuck off."

          So, Corrine, stuck in a job she hated where the hours never truly ended took pity on Diana? If she did kill her was it a careless accident or was it a Kevorkian special?

          And if she didn't kill her...

          "One more question. The night she died. Were Robert or Malik there?"

          She looked at me for a moment before looking away. "No. No one was there."

          A lie if I've ever told one. "You don't need to cover for your boyfriend."

          "I'm not."

          But something in the way she looked away told me she was. And furthermore, the look of surprise on her face when I'd mentioned Malik was as good as pointing the finger right at him.

         He was there that night. I'm sure of it.

          As I walked back to my car a call from an unknown number came across my cell. I answered without interest. "Yeah?"

          "... I'll do it."

          The sound of Este's voice took my breath away. "When?"

          "Tomorrow night. The children will be with their father."

          I took one last look over my shoulder to see Corrine's silhouette watching me get into my car. "Okay," I said. "Tomorrow night."