Chapter 53
SOPHIE
CJ blinked at Ocean. “Framed by Karina?”
“Her and Sunny,” Ocean said, “but mostly her.”
“No,” she said. “No.”
To my playwright’s ear, she sounded too confident.
Like she was trying to convince us of Karina’s innocence—or trying to convince herself.
There were just too many oddities floating around.
The secret cash, the fact that only Karina “saw” the push—until Sunny Wheeler suddenly jumped on the bandwagon.
The ice cubes! Even though no one but me thought they were important.
As CJ wiped her tears away, Ocean asked her, “So you admit you’re responsible for those web searches?”
“Yeah. Yes, but not—”
“How good are you with computers?”
“I’m okay. I’ve designed websites, I’ve fixed routers, I’ve turned everything off and on again.”
Ocean’s eyes smiled, though the intensity didn’t leave her face. “In that case, you know that browsing websites leaves traces.”
“Of course.”
“Yet you made no effort to hide your incriminating searches?”
“Oh!” CJ brightened despite her tear-streaked cheeks. “That’s so true.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Everyone knows better than to leave a homicidal search history on your work computer.”
“Exactly! Yes. If I’d been planning murder, I would’ve used an anonymizer or—or what’re those called?”
“No idea,” Ocean said.
“A VPN! Or one of those things … proxy servers?”
“That’s them.” Hamilton turned to Mrs. B. “A virtual proxy network conceals traffic from your computer, even at the ISP level, which private browsing doesn’t hide.”
Mrs. B blinked owlishly. “Oh, of course, the ISP level.”
“That’s such a great point.” CJ wiped her tears with her palm. “If I’d planned to kill Frank, why would I leave a search like that behind? I wouldn’t. Nobody would.”
“So you do think you’re being framed?” I asked, watching her more closely.
“I…” She pushed her auburn hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. Do people really get framed in the real world?”
“I doubt it,” Nicholas said. “I mean, c’mon, that’s like falling into quicksand.”
“Of course she’s being framed,” Mrs. B said. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. This is clear to an experienced investigator.”
“Do tell,” Ocean said.
“Karina was in a rush to inherit, to spend the money and—”
“Why?”
“Because life is short! She didn’t want to wait around while the doctors kept Frank alive for fifteen years, at the cost of several small fortunes. Or maybe she wanted the money for a more specific reason.”
“Like what?”
“Like remodeling. Or she wants to invest in krypton currency.”
“Krypton currency?” I asked.
“Cryptocurrency,” Ocean translated.
“Like I said.” Mrs. B snorted.
I turned to CJ. “Is Karina interested in investments?”
“Not even a little,” she said. “She tells Frank—she used to say, ‘Screw careful accumulation, it’s time for conspicuous consumption.’”
“The reason doesn’t matter,” Mrs. B said. “But at the very end of dinner at the Hope Ranch house—do you remember what always happened then?”
Ocean said, “What?”
“They said goodbye for ten minutes at the stairs,” I reminded her.
“Every time,” CJ agreed.
Mrs. B pointed a bejeweled hand at her in triumph.
“Exactly! So this is what happened. Karina slipped a handful of Frank’s pills into his wineglass during dinner.
He already had trouble with balance! You missed that, didn’t you?
Well, to the trained detective, it is a very red flag. Positively scarlet.”
“Now you’re a trained detective?” Ocean asked.
Mrs. B ignored her. “After a little overmedication, Karina followed him upstairs, knowing he’d pause there for a bit. Then she waited for the inevitable.”
“If you’re correct,” Lily-Ann said, “she at best waited for the probable.”
“Well, she’s probably tried this a half dozen times,” Mrs. B told her. “And now it finally worked.”
I squinted at her. “What about the liquor bottle smashing?”
“Oh, I’ve no idea. CJ?”
She chewed her lip. “I’m not sure.”
“Maybe that was a coincidence,” Nicholas said, “and when Frank turned toward the noise, that’s what unbalanced him?”
“Because he was already overmedicated,” Mrs. B said.
“Or maybe Karina drugged the Amaretto,” Ocean said. “Instead of putting the medication directly in Frank’s glass. Then she left it balanced precariously, planning to break it and hide the evidence after he died, but it fell early.”
Mrs. B beamed at her. “Oh, perfect! You have all the makings of a diabolical murderess!”
“So you’re a detective and I’m a murderess?”
“Naturally,” Mrs. B said, then a flash of alarm crossed her face. “Wait!”
My pulse jumped again. “What’s wrong?”
“Do we say ‘murderess’ anymore, or just ‘murderer’? Like ‘actor’ instead of ‘actress’?”
“Perhaps we don’t care about the feelings of people who commit homicide,” Lily-Ann suggested.
“Well, a little politeness never hurts!” Mrs. B huffed. “Where was I? Oh! Karina arranged for a dizzy spell, then claimed she saw CJ push Frank. Why? To divert attention from herself, and because she was jealous of his extremely appropriate affection for her.”
The room grew silent until Nicholas said, “I mean, that doesn’t not make sense.”
“Except Karina wouldn’t hurt Frank,” CJ said.
“Not for all the money in the world?” Nicholas asked.
“You never can tell,” I said. “What do you think, Lily-Ann?”
“It strikes me as not impossible,” she said. “Though we still need evidence.”
“‘Not impossible!’” Mrs. B crowed. “As for evidence … well, that’s what Sunny Wheeler is for.”
“How’s he going to help?” I asked.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Mrs. B said, radiating somehow inoffensive smugness. “Karina saw that her testimony wasn’t enough to close the case, to fully frame CJ. So she convinced Sunny Wheeler to play along. Which means he knows she convinced him.”
“How did she convince him?” Ocean asked.
“Maybe they’re lovers!”
CJ sniffed a laugh. “They aren’t.”
“Ah, but they used to be.”
“They didn’t,” CJ said.
“Well, well, Sunny hates you!” Mrs. B brightly suggested.
“Why on earth would Sunny hate me?”
“You’re young? Believe me, dear, that’s more offensive than you know.”
“I’d be shocked if he ever even thought about me.”
Lily-Ann cleared her throat. “The best thing about Mrs. B’s theory is what she already mentioned. If Karina asked Sunny to fake his testimony, then her request condemns her. That gives us a way forward. By questioning him.”
“QED,” Mrs. B said.
“You have no idea what QED means,” Ocean said.
Mrs. B sniffed. “Of course I do.”
I shared a look with Nicholas, eager to hear her definition. Sadly, Lily-Ann turned her hazel gaze on CJ before we dove into that particular rabbit hole. “What do you know about this scandal of his?”
“Of Sunny’s? Mostly whispers. He’s obsessed with life extension. Obviously. He invested millions, maybe tens of millions, in various businesses and start-ups.”
“Like cryogenics?” I asked.
“They prefer the term ‘cryonics,’” Hamilton told me.
“And the scandal?” Lily-Ann repeated.
“Either Sunny lost so much money that he needed Frank to bail him out or…” CJ trailed off briefly. “Well, one way to extend your life is by using blood transfusions. I heard maybe Sunny was paying teenagers for not-quite-legal plasma donations.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Mrs. B fanned her face with her hand, setting her bracelets jangling. “Human experimentation is even better than illicit affairs!”
“For a very specific definition of ‘better,’” Hamilton said. “That does sound like a good juicy scandal though.”
CJ gave a wan smile. “The rumor is that Frank helped Sunny clear things up without facing legal charges.”
“And you know it’s not just a rumor,” Lily-Ann announced with absolute confidence. “Because Frank would’ve told you if it was untrue.”
“Exactly. If he hadn’t promised Sunny he’d keep quiet?” CJ smiled in forlorn remembrance. “Then he would’ve teased me for believing such a bizarre conspiracy.”
And that’s how I knew CJ hadn’t killed him. I could imagine passion turning into murder. I could imagine gratitude or dependence or lust turning into murder. But fondness? No. That smile of warm, uncomplicated memory? No.
CJ hadn’t pushed Frank DeYoung. Now we just needed to find out who had.