“Contact information?”
Devin thumbed through his phone. “I’ve only got a phone, no address.”
“I’ll take it.”
He rattled it off and A.L. copied it down.
“Does Leah have any client contact?” A.L. asked.
“Of course. Lots of routine requests go to her and she handles them.”
“Bailey Shepherd does family law, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Maybe some acrimonious divorces or ugly child-custody cases.”
Devin nodded. “We’ve had some.”
“Any that you can recall where Leah was the point person, that somebody might have construed that she was calling the shots either for or against somebody?”
“When the issues are hot, we don’t expect our paralegals to field those calls. I would handle those.”
A.L. suspected the paralegals handled plenty of dicey issues. But it didn’t look like he was going to get anywhere with these questions. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Raine.”
“Happy to do it. What I want most is for Leah to have her little girl back.”
* * *
He used a reverse lookup to find Martha Johnston’s address. She lived in a condo, close enough to Bailey Shepherd that she probably walked to work. He drove to her apartment, hoping that she was there.
The building was old but it had been extensively remodeled with high-end finishes. There were eight condos in the building. He pressed the buzzer next to her name and looked directly into the camera.
“Yes,” she said.
“Detective McKittridge, Baywood Police Department. I’d like to speak with you.”
“Why?”
She wasn’t a lawyer but she definitely had learned something from them. “A few questions about your coworker, Leah Whitman.”
She didn’t say anything but the buzzer sounded and he grabbed for the door. Then he walked up a flight of stairs and knocked on 202.
A woman opened the door. She was early forties, about his age. She wore pajama pants and an Arizona State T-shirt. “Martha Johnston?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
He opened his badge and held it steady. She studied it for a minute, then stepped back to let him in. Her condo had glossy wood floors and bay windows, and the kitchen, dining room and living room were all sort of the same big space. She pulled out one of the stools that was pushed up to the kitchen counter. She sat and pointed to the other one. He took it and got out his notebook and pen.
“I wanted to talk with you about your relationship with Leah Whitman.”
“Leah and I don’t have a relationship. We’re both paralegals working under the same supervising attorney at Bailey Shepherd. But I suspect you already know that.”
She didn’t say it with an attitude, just very matter-of-fact. He decided to get more direct. “How do you and Leah get along?”
“For the most part, it’s fine. She’s a very competent paralegal and I don’t generally have to pick up much of her slack.”
“For the most part, you say. What about the other part?”
She smiled. “Mostly everyone loves Leah but she isn’t as nice as she wants everyone to believe.”
He wondered if Martha knew about Leah videotaping her mother at the casino. “Can you give me some examples?”
“I’ve seen her take credit for other people’s work. Not mine. She knows that I’d call her out on it. But other people. I’ve heard her on the phone with her husband. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how they’re still married. But when the partners are around, she is sweet. Yeah, Sweet Leah.”
“I understand that Leah was recently promoted at work to a senior paralegal. How did you feel about that?”
“Not great. It should have gone to me. But I’m not as good as Leah in managing people’s perception. That leaves me the choice of voting with my feet. But I like the work and I really like being able to walk to work. So for now, I’ll stay.”
“Where were you last Wednesday, at about 7:15 a.m.?”
“Just finishing my workout. I run on the treadmill every morning for thirty minutes.”
“Anybody be able to verify that?” he asked.
“There’s never usually anybody else in the gym but everything is on camera, like most of this building. Behind our doors is about the only privacy we get.”
He was pretty confident that this was her way of telling him that she hadn’t snuck a five-year-old up the back stairs.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Johnston.”
“You’re welcome. I feel badly for Leah and her husband. A missing child is something that no parent should have to go through. But my only advice is, don’t be fooled. There’s more to Leah than you’ll first think.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, as he dialed Rena, A.L. couldn’t seem to get those words out of his head. Don’t be fooled. There’s more to Leah than you’ll first think. When Rena answered, he repeated them to her. “What the hell do you make of that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Melissa Wayne said we should be looking harder at the parents, that Alice had told her stuff. I sort of shoved that aside at the time because I was having a hard time getting my head around the fact that Alice Quest lied both about knowing Dover and also knowing anything about Corrine Antler. Why would she do that?”
“I think we’ve got a couple things to talk to Alice about. I’ll meet you at her house.”
“Are we going to call first?” Rena asked.
“Hell, no. We’re done being polite.”
“She wants us to talk to her attorney.”
“She can call her and have her join us. I don’t mind,” A.L. said.
Twenty minutes later, when he and Rena stood in Alice’s foyer, he told her the same thing. “You’re not under arrest, Alice. We’re just asking questions, trying to clarify information. But if you want your lawyer here, by all means, call her up.”
“It’s late on a Saturday afternoon. I’m sure she’s not in the office.”
“You don’t have her home number?” A.L. asked. “If not, if it’s any kind of law firm, I’m sure they have somebody on call, just for this sort of emergency.”
Alice stared at A.L. “I may regret this but I really don’t think you’re the enemy. Let’s sit in the family room.”