Tessa Stark: Desert Heat

Chapter Eleven

 "I'm pegging the kid for it," Cole stated, taking a long drag on his straw.

"Because you think he did it? Or because you think he's a...what did you call him? A short-prick?" asked Tessa, taking a sip of her own soda.

Cole made a sound in his throat. "You saw it. He is a short-prick."

"Wait," Zeb cut in, looking between the two of them, his eyes round in his face. "You saw...it? You saw his--"

"I'd rather not talk about it," she held up a hand to stop Zeb's words.

"But, how...I mean...I just don't...I don't understand--"

"Don't even try, Collins. I'll tell you about it later," Cole waved the young man's words away.

Zeb paused for a second before giving his head a shake. "Anyway, what do we do now? I've called all Hallie Whitmore's friends over and over. No one is answering."

"Why is that everyone walks around with their face glued to a phone, but no one will ever answer it?" Tessa wondered as she shoved several fries into her mouth.

"Most people don't answer numbers that aren't on their call list. I don't," Zeb put in.

"Welp, what's the next move, Detective Stark?" wondered Cole. "We can't question people we can't get hold of. And we've already questioned Rutherford enough for one day. I hope. So, should we maybe try Hallie Whitmore's family?"

Taking a huge bite of her burger, she contemplated for a second. "If uhd dad is cash furm the begunging--hyuherk!" she abruptly halted, nearly gagging on the gluey cheese that had become welded to the roof of her mouth.

Cole and Zeb both stared at her, their expressions blank. "Come again?" asked Cole.

Forcibly swallowing down her mouthful, and breezing right past the moment, she tried again. "If I'd had this case from the beginning, questioning the family that night would have been my next move."

She would have questioned Nathan Rutherford at the scene, then she would have tracked down Hallie's family, not only to inform them, but also to question them about their daughter's life, her friends, her lovers...and also to try and get a feel for things, try to scent out their reactions, and nail down their alibis.

Money had been the driving force behind uncountable murders and, from what she'd heard, the Whitmore family was worth about eleventy billion dollars, which could be construed as an awful lot of motive.

Cole turned to Officer Collins. "Rogers interviewed the Whitmore family, yes?"

Zeb nodded. "He did. His notes are pretty brief there. He informed the family of the death, asked a few questions, basically noted that they were all accounted for during the time of the murder, and that was that. I think the only other contact he had with the family was the couple of times that Senator Whitmore showed up here and chewed him a new one."

"Yeah. I was here for one of those reamings. Shew," Cole breathed. "Poor Rogers was probably afraid to go anywhere near the family after that."

Well, Rogers might have been afraid, but she was not. And the fact that he was afraid to thoroughly question the Whitmores only filled her with further doubt regarding his investigation. "So, should we try and set up an appointment or just knock on the door and see what happens?"

"I'd say odds are about even either way," was Cole's opinion.

"A knock on the door it is, then," she said, finishing off the last of her fries. "And if our affable state senator is there, I'll just---"