"Welp, Special Detective Stark, I submit," Cole announced as they pulled away from the StoneHouse Vineyard and hit the road back toward Santa Maria. "You were right to keep steady on and the next time I get pissy, tell me to shut the hell up."

"Noted," she replied. "But, we're not any closer to actually charging anybody for either murder. Unless Lydecker turns up something useful, we still don't have a scrap of evidence."

"Maybe you can sweet talk a confession out of our esteemed senator?" Cole posed.

"I can try, but our esteemed senator hates my guts, so I don't think he'll be so willing to give himself up to me," she pointed out, flipping through her notebook, where Lucas' statement had been jotted down, to be sworn to and signed later, if need be.

Cole gave a shrug. "You're probably right. But, that aside, how should we go at Senator Whitmore? Should we drag him to the station? Because I would absolutely love to do that."

Actually, dragging Richard Whitmore out of his house and into an interview room at the sheriff's office would be something of a treat for her, too. But, she wasn't sure that was the way to go.

"I think we should go see Sheriff Gonzalez. He needs to know about this before we go any further," she declared.

She would eventually be leaving Santa Maria, but Sheriff Gonzalez would have to stay and if this went off the rails, he would be the one left behind to deal with any fall out. So, he needed to be the one to guide any interactions his office had with Senator Whitmore and his family.

Cole didn't argue with her as he stepped on the gas and hastened them back along the empty highway, which allowed her to sit back, turn her attention to the sweep of arid land and azure sky and just...be. At least for a little while.

*  *  *  *  *  *

"I still can't believe this. I mean, by damn! Richard Whitmore and his own niece!" Sheriff Gonzalez exhaled, running a hand over his face and shaking his head at the same time.

"And Rogers flat missed it," Cole stated, adjusting his shoulder holster and turning his gaze toward the Whitmore home.

"Right. Rogers missed it. So, whatever happens, having him sit in front of a review board will be worth it," the sheriff intoned.

Listening to the men talk, Tessa focused her own gaze on the Whitmore residence, where she and Cole had convened with Sheriff Gonzalez. She was about to upend an entire family and though she did want to nail Richard Whitmore for anything and everything that she could, she wasn't thrilled at having to cause his family any sort of pain or suffering while they were still dealing with Hallie's death...which Richard himself may have caused.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm looking forward to this," the sheriff quietly declared. "I've been putting up with Richard Whitmore for weeks now, making threats and screaming in my face and all that time..."

The Sheriff's words trailed off as a flush of ire tinged his cheeks and flashed in his dark eyes and Tessa found herself hoping that Sheriff Gonzalez could maintain a calm and clear head where Richard Whitmore was concerned. If things devolved into a screaming match, they'd get absolutely nowhere. As it was, they'd be lucky if the senator and his family didn't immediately kick them off the property and call their lawyers to start circling the wagons.

"Well...this is your investigation, Special Detective. Lead the way," Sheriff Gonzalez stated, his tone somber.

"Yes, sir," she said, putting her work face on and starting them toward the front door, reaching into her bag, taking out Hallie's cell phone and handing it over to Cole as they went. "Etty Montrose's name hasn't been released to the press yet?"

"Not yet. But, they have a way of getting hold of information that we'd rather they didn't, so its only a matter of time," came the answer.

At the door, she rang the bell, which Jonathan eventually answered, greeting them with a distasteful expression. "Special Detective, you're back."

"I'm afraid so," she said. "And I'm afraid I need to speak with the family again."

Jonathan, letting out something of an annoyed sigh, stepped back and allowed them into the house, though he was obviously not pleased about it. "The family are in the dining room, finishing up a late lunch. If you'll wait in the front room, I'll bring them to you."

"That'll be fine," Tessa said. "But, I need to see all of them. Please, tell Senator Whitmore that I insist."

"Tell Richard that Sheriff Gonzalez insists," the sheriff stated in a tone that garnered no argument.

"I'll do that," Jonathan said as he closed the door behind them and began leading the way across the foyer and toward an arched doorway to the left.

Through that doorway lay a massive room filled with chintz covered sofas and chairs, ornately carved wooden tables, oriental rugs, and hanging overhead, a large crystal chandelier that glittered in the sunlight pouring in through the large windows. Again, she was struck by the notion that they were walking through a room that belonged on a TV screen.

"Have a seat anywhere you like. I'll have the family in with you shortly," said Jonathan. "If the ladies of the house allow, I'll see what I can do about bringing you some beverages."

As the man disappeared out into the house, Cole pulled a face. "Is it too cliché to wonder if the butler did it? And maybe hope that he did it just so I can throw him into a cell and slam the door on him?"

"Would it defile my position as sheriff if I said I think that would be...satisfying?" the sheriff wondered as they began moving toward a seating area in the center of the room.

"It would not," was Cole's riposte.

Feeling incredibly out of place in the finely appointed space, Tessa dropped down into a wing backed chair that looked quite stiff, but was shockingly soft and forgiving, as if it was stuffed with feathers. Sinking down into the chair, she pulled out her field notebook and pen and readied to begin her note taking while the sheriff and his chief deputy wandered around the room, looking at the paintings and the array of what-nots scattered about.

"What should we do if the senator is drunk off his ass?" she asked, her voice practically getting swallowed up in the cavernous room. "It sounded like he was at least halfway there when Lucas Simmons called him. And that was a couple of hours ago."

"Then we sober him up and carry on," was the sheriff's declaration. "We're not leaving here without getting some answers."

By the stone cold tone in the sheriff's voice, she found herself hoping Sheriff Gonzalez didn't hurl himself at Richard Whitmore and give the man a thrashing before they had a chance to question him.

"How'd the Montroses deal with the news?" asked Cole, joining Tessa and taking the chair closest to her.

The sheriff let out a deep sigh as he made his way to the sofa, dropping down there. "They were in shock, as you'd expect. But, don't worry. They'll start calling for heads soon enough."

"Hopefully, we'll have this figured out before then," Cole offered.

"That's the hope, Chief Deputy. But, I figure Whitmore won't cough up a confession just to do us a favor. And without any physical evidence to link him or anyone else to either death...I'm just not that optimistic."

The sheriff wasn't wrong. At that moment, anything they could put together, no matter who they wanted to charge, would be purely circumstantial. And frankly, she preferred to keep digging and prodding until she either turned up prosecutable evidence or managed to extract a confession out of the guilty party. Circumstantial cases always left a niggling doubt for her, a fear that there might be a chance the wrong person had been punished and she couldn't live with that possibility weighing on her.

"Hello, Detective Stark. I'm sorry to keep you waiting," a feminine voice sounded out as the Whitmore family all filed into the room, led by Jodie Whitmore and ended by Richard Whitmore, glass in hand and looking huffy, all of them dressed fairly fancily for a lunch at home.

"Sheriff, what a surprise," the senator greeted, clearly less than thrilled. "Its not like you to make a house call."

"Its not, but needs must," the sheriff replied stiffly.

"Sounds official," Richard said as everyone took a seat, filling up the chairs and sofas situated around the enormous carved wooden coffee table.

"it is official," the sheriff stated.

"Is...is this about Hallie? Have you found the person who killed her?" Jodie Whitmore asked, a slight quaver behind her words.

"We haven't pinned that detail down quite yet," admitted the sheriff. "But, we think we're making a fair amount of headway."

"Headway?" Richard repeated. "That sounds like your department is no closer to finding Hallie's murderer than you were when she was first killed. So, I'd guess Special Detective Stark isn't the God-like entity she was rumored to be?"

Sheriff Gonzalez looked to Tessa, giving her a curt nod and she, in turn, looked to Jodie Whitmore. "Mrs. Whitmore, I'm sorry to do this to you and your family..."

Jodie's fine brows lifted high. "Sorry to do what?"

She then turned her attention to Richard Whitmore. "Senator Whitmore, where were you between six and seven p.m. on the evening of July 10th?"

Richard's own brows lifted upwards and his face registered surprise. "The evening Hallie was killed? I told you, I was with Valerie, as I had been every Friday night for several months."

His response sent a ripple of tension rolling through the room and had a look of repulsion rolling across Trista's face. And a look of rigid stoicism freezing Ellen Whitmore's features solid.

"And Mrs. Whitmore—Ellen—do you remember where you were that evening?" she asked the woman, who barely more than batted an eye.

"I was out and about that evening. Why?"

"Out and about...where?" she pressed.

Ellen lifted a thin shoulder that was draped in a satin blouse. "I usually have a hair appointment on Fridays. Normally, I'm the last one for the day, so that I can be ready to go out to dinner. I was probably there around five. It ran late because one of the stylists left sick, but I was out by six thirty. Then I drove to Le Vin and had dinner and was back home by nine or so."

"Was anyone with you at Le Vin?" was her next question.

"No," Ellen stated easily. "My husband was in Austin...working in his office. So, I sometimes go out and have dinner on my own."

"You were in Austin?" Tessa put that question to Richard Whitmore. "You weren't in Washington?"

Richard gave her something of a hateful stare, as if he couldn't believe she was actually asking such a question of him. "I was in Austin, yes. Congress adjourned for that week and I was back home taking care of state matters."

"And I assume you came back here as soon as you heard about your niece?"

"I did," he answered, rolling his eyes. "Where's Jonathan? I'm starting to sober up and this is becoming tedious."

"When did you arrive back in Santa Maria, Senator?" she went on, ignoring his barb.

"I'm not sure," he sighed. "Some hours after my wife called to inform me about Hallie."

"Dad, you got here at one o'clock," Trista spoke up. "The sheriff knocked on the door at midnight to let us know what...had happened. We were all still in the kitchen and then you came in. It was one o'clock."

"Austin is three hours away," Sheriff Gonzalez stated. "How did you make a three hour drive in one hour?"

"I was probably already on the road home when Ellen called. Why? What does it matter?" asked Richard, bored.

"Richard, were you on the road home when your wife called you? Or were you already in Santa Maria?" questioned the sheriff, his words tight. "And I want the truth. Absolute. No bullshit."

"Sheriff?" Jodie half gasped. "What's this all about? Why does it matter where Richard was?"

"It matters, Mrs. Whitmore," Tessa replied to the question, "because Richard is now a suspect in Hallie's murder."

The room was plunged into an instant silence and the faces surrounding her all went blank. "Wh-what are you talking about?" Trista croaked out. "Dad? What's she talking about?"

"I don't know!" Richard hissed, giving himself a shake. "I've been telling everyone who'll listen that this little girl is useless!"

Tessa caught Richard Whitmore's gaze and held it for several seconds before speaking.  "I also believe that Mr. Whitmore was having an affair with Hallie."

That revelation dropped like a heavy stone into a pool of water.  Time seemed to hit a standstill.  And for a long, drawn out moment, the Whitmore family all simply...stared at her.

"Detective, you-you can't be serious?" Stephen finally managed to speak, almost smiling at the absurdity of her statement. "I mean...that-that's..."

"Slander is the word you're looking for, Stephen," Richard stated, his tone suddenly level...quiet, his face hard set as he glared at Tessa. "And I won't have this in my house."

Tessa shot Cole a quick glance before looking back to the man. "Senator, you were having an affair with Hallie--"

"No, he wasn't," Ellen cut in flatly. "He wouldn't do...that...Detective. Its just...ridiculous."

"Hallie wouldn't have done...that," Jodie put in, seeming if she was trying to chuckle, but not quite managing it. "Why on earth would you even think a thing like that?"

"Ed, I really can't believe you're sitting here allowing this girl to spew nonsense!" Richard gritted out through his teeth. "I told you right from the start you shouldn't have brought in a child! She's not trying to solve my niece's murder! She's just making up stories the way little girls do!"

The dinging of a cell phone receiving a text sounded out and automatically, Richard reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulled out a phone, glancing at the screen...and freezing solid, his entire body going rigid and the blood slowly draining out of his face, leaving him looking pale and ashen right down his lips.

"Richard?" Sheriff Gonzalez spoke. "Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

For a moment, the man didn't respond. He just sat, unmoving, staring at the phone clutched in his hand, his eyes as round as saucers. But, after the span of several seconds, he lifted his head, his gaze going straight to Cole, who was holding up Hallie's cell phone and giving it a little wiggle.

"Boo, you son-of-a-bitch," the chief deputy smiled.