Once they got moving, Lana turned to Beth. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Bringing me along?”
“You tell me, Ma. Meet any murderers today?”
Lana chose to ignore the sarcasm in Beth’s voice. “Perhaps. Your rancher’s daughter, Lady Di, she knew Ricardo Cruz. I think she’s got something to hide. And I got good information from the land trust director, Victor Morales. I’m going to set up a time to visit his office this week, see what I can find.”
Beth shook her head. “I must have missed the one where Nancy Drew flirted her way to a solution.”
“Oh really? And what exactly were you doing with that rancher’s son?”
“I was just talking with him. Consoling him. You may have heard of it.”
“Are you planning to console him again sometime?”
“Ma, you’re making this something it’s most definitely not.”
“Whatever it is, it’s perfect.” Lana braced herself as they sailed over another pothole. “You’ve got an in with someone who, like Diana, might have known Ricardo. You can grill him for me.”
Beth blinked. Shook it off. “What about you, Jack? Did you have an okay time?”
Jack shrugged. “They have a kayak in the barn.”
“Surely lots of people have kayaks around here,” Lana said. Her eyes were mostly closed now. She could almost see the names of suspects lining her legal pad, fresh possibilities to dangle in front of the sheriffs to shift their attention off of Jack. “There’s not much else in the way of entertainment.”
“Yeah, but this was a Kayak Shack kayak. And one of our life jackets. I don’t know how they got it. But maybe when I go back to work tomorrow, I could find out.”
“Jack, we still have to discuss—”
“It’s my job, Mom.”
“I know, but—”
“I want to do my job.”
The car went quiet. Lana ignored the battle of wills between her daughter and granddaughter and tried to remember exactly what Paul had said at the shop about loaning out Kayak Shack equipment to friends. He’d mentioned life jackets. But not boats. Why would he have given one to Hal Rhoads? Paul hadn’t been at the wake, so he probably wasn’t a close friend of the rancher. She couldn’t picture him hobnobbing with Martin either. Did he have some other connection to the Rhoads family? Maybe a fling? Lana could see Paul with the grandniece, the hippie, reeling her in with some nonsense about free love. Or was it possible a socialite like Lady Di was slumming it with Paul Hanley? She’d add that to her notes to look into when she spoke to Rhoads’s daughter on Monday.
“Fine.” Beth jerked the car to an abrupt stop before the bridge. “Everyone can do what they want. Everyone can take care of themselves. That’s your philosophy, right, Ma?”
Lana opened her eyes and gave her daughter an uncertain nod.
“Independence is a gift.”
“Sure, Ma. I’ll keep that in mind while I drive you home.”
Chapter Nineteen
At six thirty Sunday morning, Jack tiptoed outside onto the tiny wedge of concrete behind the house where she stowed her bike.
“Mom?”
Beth was bent over in sweats and a beanie, meticulously rearranging her rock garden. It seemed to have expanded along the whole side of the house, lining the top of the gravel hillside that led down to the slough. The rocks formed a maze, a feathery, intricate spiral.
Jack nudged her.
“Mom? Everything okay?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Decided to work on the labyrinth.”
“It’s nice,” Jack said tentatively. The closer she looked, the more complicated the stone pattern appeared to be. Jack wondered if her mother had slept at all.
Beth reached out for a quick hug, and Jack felt the familiar warmth of her mother’s concern. But today it felt too hot, smothering. Jack knew what she needed to do. She pulled back and looked her mom in the face.
“I’m going to the marina. You may not be ready yet. But I am.”
Beth nodded slowly. Her eyes had dark circles under them. “She uses people, you know. Your Prima. When I was little, she’d pinch me so I’d cry and we could skip the line at the airport. Everyone’s just an employee to her, in service to her goals.”
“I’m not doing this for Prima.”
“Just because she enlisted you doesn’t mean you have to join her crusade.”
Jack felt herself stand up straighter, her hands clenching the handlebars of her bike. “This is what I want to do.”