“You can’t talk about it because it’s an ongoing investigation, right?”
“Exactly that.”
“I understand, dear.”
“But I want to thank you. You’ve given me some much-needed clarity, Mrs. Belton.”
“I’m not sure how, but I’m very glad I could help,” she replied, clearly confused.
“I should go but thank you for your help.”
“Well, good luck, Spenser. And I want to tell you that when the time comes, I’ll be voting for you. I truly think you’re the best person for the job. And rest assured, I’m not the only one who believes that,” the woman said.
Spenser took the older woman’s hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Belton. That means a lot. Thank you for everything.”
Spenser turned and bounded back to the Bronco with a spring in her step and a sense of determination and purpose burning bright inside of her as the opacity of the bigger picture ebbed and the end of the case drew near.
“What do you think?” Amanda asked.
“Not sure yet. I figure I’m going to give her a little time to stew,” Spenser replied.
They stood in front of the monitors in the observation room watching Layla Li sitting at the table in the interrogation room down the hall. She was nervous and fidgeting. The woman wrung her hands together and tapped her foot on the floor, unable to sit still.
After her conversation with Mrs. Belton, Spenser decided they had enough to bring Layla in for a conversation. She wasn’t ready yet to put the cuffs on her.
“She’s not going to confess,” Amanda said.
“She might.”
“I’m skeptical.”
“Like I said before, she’s not a criminal mastermind. She’s not a natural born killer,” Spenser said. “If I squeeze her hard enough and apply the right leverage, it might be enough to crack her.”
“Five bucks says you don’t get a confession.”
Spenser chuckled. “I’ll take that bet.”
On the monitor before them, Layla began singing to herself quietly. Unable to sit any longer, she stood up and slipped her hands into her pockets then started to pace around the small, windowless interrogation room. She looked up at the camera that sat high in the corner, her face etched with worry.
“I think she’s ready,” Spenser said.
Amanda elbowed her in the side. “I’m already dreaming about what I’m going to buy with that five bucks you’re about to owe me, Sheriff.”
“Keep dreaming.”
Spenser walked out of the observation room then down the hall and stood before the door to the interrogation room for a moment as she gathered herself. Spenser opened the door and stepped into the room. Layla stopped her pacing and looked at her like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing. She was dressed in hip-hugging blue jeans that flared out at the ankles and a gauzy white peasant blouse with multi-colored flowers embroidered down the front. Spenser closed the door behind her and dropped the file in her hand on the table then sat down.
“Thanks for coming in, Layla,” Spenser said. “Have a seat.”
“Sheriff, what am I doing here?”
“We need to talk. Please. Have a seat.”
Her movements slow and tentative, Layla sat down at the table across from her. A torrent of emotions scrolled across her face, and she gnawed on her bottom lip. Nervousness radiated from every pore in the woman’s body.
It was a tense situation to be sure. Being called down to a police station then stuck in an interrogation room and finding yourself sitting across from a cop had to be scary. But as Spenser studied Layla, it struck her that the nervousness seemed a little outsized, even for that situation.
“Why am I here, Sheriff?”
“Because you haven’t been honest with me.”
“What? I’ve answered all your questions—”
“You have. But you haven’t answered them honestly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You lied to me, Layla.”
“About what?”
“A few things, as it turns out,” Spenser said. “First and foremost, you told me that you had no idea Seth was cheating on you.”
“Because I didn’t. Not until you told me—”
