She almost didn't want to continue with the current line of questioning, but after waffling for a few beats, she decided to see it through. But, only because Cole made a good point. The senator was a little too vehement in his quest to remove her from the case.

"Where were you the evening your niece was killed, Senator Whitmore?" she asked, her voice getting swallowed up by the thick tension inside the cabana.

The senator turned his pale gaze to her, something of a sardonic grin lifting one side of his mouth. "July 10th was a Friday. So, I was where I am nearly every Friday when I'm working. You can ask my wife exactly where that is. She can tell you if she wants you to have that information."

Ellen stiffened, her face going pale beneath her makeup, but she kept her chin lifted and her gaze steady on Tessa. "I'm assuming my husband was with his latest conquest. Likely an intern from his office. I'm sure she would provide you with proof of his whereabouts."  She cast a quick glance at her husband.  "What's this one's name, dear?"

"Vanessa," came Richard's easy reply.

Trista, huffing out a derisive snort, suddenly sprung to her feet and headed for the bar, and Tessa couldn't say that she blamed the girl.

"You're willingly admitting to me that you were with a woman other than your wife?" asked Tessa, back to taking notes. "You don't think something like that getting out might hurt your campaign?"

"This is a murder investigation, Ms. Stark," the senator reminded. "Unless I'm a suspect, my statement to you should have no reason to ever reach the public. Besides, Texas is a Republican state. The voters won't care if I'm sleeping with someone who isn't my wife, just so long as that woman isn't a Democrat. So, I think I'm safe."

A small wave of repulsion rolled through her stomach and her personal view on marriage suddenly deepened by a few measures. "Does Vanessa have a last name?"

"I'm not terribly sure of her last name, but I might be able to get you her cell number, if you need it," said the wealthy and powerful politician who had all the money in the world and an entire month to make sure his intern backed up his alibi.

"I'd appreciate it if you could do that, thank you," she told the man, suddenly feeling like she needed a long, hot shower.

Jodie cleared her throat, visibly trying to pull herself together. "Detective, wh-whatever happened to my daughter, I assure you, it had nothing to do with our money. Hallie's share of the trust simply reverts back to the trust and is then divided between the remaining heirs.  No single person can benefit, so it makes no difference to anything."

"Did you tell the original detective this?" she wondered.

"I did," Ellen answered. "He seemed not take me at my word and, as I said, he then went to the staff."

Pulling in a breath, she tried to get her thoughts back in line in an effort to finish up the interview and basically get the hell outta dodge. "So, did any of you have a reason to think Nathan Rutherford had anything to do with Hallie's death before Detective Rogers decided that he might be involved?"

"I did," Cameran put in, rueful.

"Why?" was her next question.

"Because he's the one who found her. She was killed on the road out to his place. And Nathan likes to hit when he's drunk and pissed off, which is most of the time."

She'd had the dubious pleasure of meeting Mr. Rutherford in person and couldn't help but wonder why any woman in her right mind wouldn't just hit him back. "And you know for a fact that he likes to hit?" she asked.

"Everybody knows that," was Cameran's statement. "It doesn't stop any of the girls around here from following him around with their tongues hanging out, though."

"Well, just to keep my investigation thorough...is it possible any of those girls might be upset that Nathan was engaged to Hallie?"

Cameran shrugged. "Probably. Nathan is the prize that all the girls want win."

That was a very...depressing...revelation. "Who was Nathan going around with before he decided to get engaged to Hallie?"

"That would be Etty Montrose," Trista answered as she made her way back from the bar, beer in hand.  "And she wasn't exactly thrilled when Nate and Hallie decided to get engaged."

"So, Etty Montrose was upset at being thrown over?" she questioned.

"I'd say.  Etty is really...possessive of Nathan. Even when he's not dating her, she's always hovering around, trying to get his attention, trying to scare the other girls off," Trista said, rolling her eyes.

"Scare them off how?"

"By doing the usual mean girl stuff. Spreading rumors, throwing drinks, hair pulling," Trista explained.

"Trista is being nice," Cameran cut in. "Etty Montrose acts like a feral cat where Nathan is concerned. She will literally try and scratch someone's eyes out if they get too cozy with him for too long."

"Do you think Etty Montrose could have been angry enough to hurt your sister?" Cole put in.

Cameran thought about that for a moment. "Hallie and Etty were friends. There's actually a group of them that have been friends since high school. They all sleep with each other's boyfriends and they fuss around and fight over stupid shit, but...I-I don't know if Etty would actually...have killed Hallie.  I mean, I just can't see it."

The young woman did not sound certain at all. And, owing to this new information, she began to view those pictures of Nathan and Etty Montrose in an entirely new light.

"Hallie was heading to Etty's birthday part the evening she was killed. Did either of you two go to the party?"

Cameran shook her head. "No. We weren't invited. We run in the same circles and wind up at the same places, but we're not exactly besties with those girls. Especially not with Etty."

"I've actually been trying to contact Hallie's friends all day, but I can't reach them. Is there a way that maybe I can find them?" she asked.

"Probably not unless you happened to run into them by accident. They never sit still. They're always shopping or lunching or driving to San Antonio or going to clubs," was Cameran's response. "And that's when they're in town at all."

"Wait," Jodie suddenly spoke. "Tomorrow night...there's a fundraiser at the Danforthe. Its a benefit for wounded soldiers. None of them ever miss a fundraising event."

"Is this benefit open to everyone?" was Cole's query.

Jodie shook her head. "No. Its a thousand dollar a plate dinner and every table is booked. But, there is a cocktail hour in the hotel lobby from seven to eight. I can get you on that list as my guests, if you think questioning Hallie's friends will help you."

Tessa did not want to give her next answer, but she had no choice. "That would be incredibly helpful. I'm not ruling anyone out at this point. And if one of her friends has a history of aggressive behavior concerning a mutual lover, then I need to question that friend and everyone around her."

There was a moment of silence before Jodie spoke again. "Your names will be on the list. It's cocktail attire for the women and jackets and ties for the men."

"Thank you, Mrs. Whitmore," Tessa smiled at the woman, who's austere façade wavered for a heartbeat.

"I want to know who did this to Hallie, Detective Stark. The first officer who came here failed my daughter, but you... Maybe you can help us."

"I'll try my very best to help you get answers," she assured as she rose to her feet, putting her notebook into her bag. "Do you think I can have a look around Hallie's room? Maybe there's something in there that might--"

"Oh, we let the other detective do that.  Well, before he was asked to leave the premises," Stephen chimed in. "He said there was nothing useful in there and that we were free to do...whatever we wanted to do with Hallie's things. So, we had the staff clean it all out."

Trying not to show any sign of the irritation that was rolling through her, she gave a stiff nod.  "Well, thank you for your time. And Senator Whitmore, I'll need your intern's number now."

"I'll have to hunt it up.  But, I'll be at the fundraiser with the rest of the family.  I can give it to you then," Richard responded and she really had no choice but to agree.

"I'll see you there, Senator."  She turned to go, but then paused and turned back to the group. "One more thing. Does Hallie have a friend named Angela?"

All eyes turned to Cameran and Trista. "Hallie knows a lot of people, but...Angela doesn't sound familiar," replied Cameran.

"Is that important?" Stephen wondered.

"Probably not. Its just a name I came across," she replied. "Have a good afternoon."

"If you'll wait by the patio doors, I'll have Jonathan show you back through the house," Jodie told them, reaching for her cell phone and tapping out a message.

With that Tessa started from the cabana, Cole close beside her. Neither spoke until they were waiting by the French doors and then it was Cole who broke the silence.

"Do you have the feeling that Rogers might have been able to get farther if he hadn't been afraid of a little push back from the Whitmores?" he asked, clearly annoyed. "I mean, good god, nearly every family pushes back when they're questioned."

"Yeah. But, not every family has the power to ruin a person's career," she pointed out. "He obviously panicked, decided to focus on Rutherford because he's the most likely culprit, half-assed it to try and nail Rutherford just to save his bruised ego..."

"Somebody ought to wring his blasted neck," Cole muttered. "And I'd love to volunteer."

She wouldn't mind volunteering for that herself.

Cole pulled in a long breath and gave himself a bit of a shake. "So, Detective, do you travel with a cocktail dress in one of your suitcases?"

"No," was her reply. "But, I'm sure I can come up with something."

She didn't have anything that would pass, but she knew a couple of women who might. If she could live through the awkwardness and the...pep.

*  *  *  *  *  *

"Should we just call this Angela's number and see if she answers? We might get lucky," Zeb suggested.

"We could do that," Tessa agreed, not glancing up from the warrant application she'd been working on for the past half hour. "But, if Angela had anything to do with Hallie's murder, she's had a month to feel like she's gotten away with it. If we tip our hand and warn her that we're coming for her, she could destroy any evidence that she might have kept, or if she has the means, she could flee the country before we figure out who she really is and where to find her."

"Oh. Good point," said Zeb, looking sheepish. "But, still, it could take until in the morning to get the warrant and then who knows how long before the number can be tracked down. We don't have the cell provider or it could even turn out to be a pre-paid with no information about the owner.

"One step at a time, Zeb," she told the young man. "We have to begin at the beginning and work our way out from there, otherwise, we'd be as sloppy as...some other people."

"Yeah. The sheriff is going to pop a vein. I wouldn't want to be Rogers," Zeb grimaced.  "That was a nice catch you made, though."

"You made a nice catch with Etty Montrose," she returned the compliment. "There actually might be something there. And if Rogers had listened to you, he might not be in hot water right now."

Zeb, looking pleased as punch, tried to give a nonchalant shrug. "Tell me when you're finished with the warrant application and I'll run it up to the court clerk. Maybe Judge Vasquez will sign off on it by tomorrow sometime."

Tessa glanced up to speak, but from the corner of her eye caught sight of a large shape crossing the gallery. It was Cole, heading toward her desk and looking slightly like he'd been harried and harassed across several miles of parched desert.

"Collins, you're wanted in the sheriff's office," he said as he dropped into his chair, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh shit, what? Wh-Why?" Zeb blanched, his eyes going huge in his face.

"To give your statement about approaching Rogers with information on Etty Montrose," answered Cole.

Zeb went a shade paler. "What? You mean I have to narc Rogers out?"

Cole lifted a shoulder. "Welcome to doing the right thing, Officer Collins. You can't just do it halfway and then quit."

Watching the young man, and all the scenarios playing out behind his large eyes, his fear became palpable. And he was probably right to be worried. Law officers didn't often appreciate being ratted out by one of their own, even if the reason behind it had been a valid one.  And most weren't above engaging in a bit of retaliation.

"I'm sorry, Zeb," Tessa told the young man, meaning it. "We couldn't just leave it lie when so many mistakes have been made. That wouldn't be doing Hallie Whitmore or her family justice."

With a solemn nod, Officer Collins was on his feet, his expression implying he was on his way to meet the firing squad.

"I'll try to take as much of this onto myself as I can," she said by way of comforting him, though she knew it was a futile attempt. "Maybe no one will give much thought to you while they're hating me? I mean, everyone usually hates me, anyway."

"And I will, too," Cole concurred. "We're the ones who went to the sheriff, not you."

Officer Collins, stoic now, gave his head a shake. "No. You're both right. I have a part in this. And I want to do the right thing. I'm not Rogers." Squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, he turned and walked away, prepared to meet his fate.

Left behind, Tessa was hit by a wave of guilt. She was responsible for whatever was said or done to Zebuliah Collins. She could have done what most other law officers would have done and kept it all to herself. She and Cole could have gone on and worked the case, acting like they'd never discovered any wrong doing or oversights.

But, they'd chosen not to do that.  And there was no going back now.

"I'm pretty sure I just watched Sheriff Gonzalez have a partial stroke in there," Cole stated.

"It was that bad?" she asked even though she knew that, yes, it was that bad.

"He's called Rogers in from the field and he's going to open an audit into every case Rogers has worked for the past five years, so yeah. It was bad."

She winced, but very quickly pushed any personal feelings aside. She and Cole, as well as Officer Collins, had decided to do the right thing, which was the only thing to be done. Whatever happened after that would just have to be suffered.

"Collins' apoplexy did strike me with a thought," Cole said, back to business. "Hallie Whitmore's clutch of friends probably won't be too quick to roll over on one of their own. There's no way Etty Montrose will admit to anything herself. So, if none of them will talk, we might be in trouble."

Cole made a good point. "Maybe they'll open up if we can separate some of them from the pack?" 

 And maybe, if they were very lucky, she could suss out any of the girls who might be fed up with Etty Montrose acting like a feral cat, especially if one of them had the misfortune of, as Cameran Whitmore had put it, having their eyes scratched out...

By the time she had her turn with a very stiff and solemn Sheriff Gonzalez, who kept the interview brief and to the point, finished her warrant application, which Zeb turned into the court clerk, logged the cell phone into evidence, and typed up her field notes to add to her files...she was ready to call it a day. So, she bade Cole and Zeb goodbye and schlepped herself back to the Desert Rose.

After a long shower, she placed a phone call to Peyton, who seemed happy to be able to help her out. After a firm five o'clock date was set, at Kimber's house, much to her dismay, she climbed into bed and tried to work up a bit of enthusiasm at the prospect of seeing her sister again...but, the Kimber aspect made it more difficult than it might otherwise have been