“Could one of them have hired someone to take out the other and then was double-crossed?”
“As in kill?” Sarina’s eyes rounded. The idea had obviously never occurred to her. “I don’t think so. Oh. Dear. No.” She was shaking her head, ponytail swishing along the tops of her shoulders as the notion took root. “Why would you say that?”
“Anything’s possible.”
“Is that what the police think?” Sarina was horrified.
“It’s not even what I think, but we can’t rule anything out, not yet. And I’ll keep working on it, in my own way, from Montana unless I think I need to come back, but I just can’t stay here indefinitely.”
She sighed. “I suppose not.”
“So, I’ll check in with Paterno later this morning. He said I could call him regardless that it’s Saturday. Then Bianca and I will look at a couple of colleges in the area and we’ll roll out of here tonight.”
Sarina swallowed hard as Tucker began to cry. Pescoli picked up her son from Sarina’s arms.
“Hey now,” she whispered, kissing his downy head.
Sarina said, “I know Collette plans to leave on Monday and we’ll have a service . . . well, we don’t know. Once the police release the bodies . . . It would be nice if Ivy were here for . . .” Her voice thickened and she cleared her throat, blinking back tears. “Well . . .” she said. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”
“I’ll still be working the case,” Regan said again. “As much as I can. Remotely.” She thought of the information she’d requested from Chilcoate, data he’d promised by late afternoon. “And if anything comes up, I’ll change my plans.”
Before Sarina could argue, Pescoli, carrying Little Tucker, walked over to the couch and touched her daughter’s shoulder, gave it a shake.
“What’re you doing?” Bianca grumbled, reaching for the covers.
“If you want to look at some of the schools around here, today’s the day.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, now. Rise and shine.”
“You’re so mean!” Bianca said.
“I know. It’s a problem I have to live with.”
“Oooh, Mom.” She pulled the blanket over her head but Pescoli was having none of her teenaged petulance.
“You’ve got an hour. If you’re not ready by then, we’ll skip UCSF, and Berkeley, Stanford or—”
Bianca threw off the covers and scowled at her mother. “I’m not going to Stanford.”
“Or any of the others unless you get a major scholarship.”
Bianca let out a huff of disgust as she climbed to her feet. “So I’ve heard.”
“You’re not even a resident.”
“She could live with me,” Sarina chimed in, and Bianca sent her mother a don’t-you-even-think-about-it glare.
“I’m thinking Montana State or the junior college that her brother went to. But it doesn’t hurt to see what’s out there.”
The glare got decidedly more intense. “I’m taking a shower.” Bianca marched up the stairs, obviously thi
nking that whatever choices she was given, all were a fate worse than death and all meted out by a mother who didn’t understand her.
So be it.
That was life.