An Offer You Can't Refuse by Sal Bianchi (ebook reader wifi txt) 📗

Marina, lived in was as opulent that the senator’s. Possibly even more so, if the fleet of fancy cars parked along the front facade of the house was anything to go by.

“What did Flint say Carlisle did for a living?” I asked as we drove up the long driveway and into the large front courtyard where all the other cars were parked.

“He didn’t,” Jase replied as he put the car in park and pulled his tablet from his work bag. “According to the report he sent, though, apparently he was a stock trader and owned a few hotels here in Miami.”

“I can see why the son didn’t want to lose out on his inheritance,” I scoffed. “Money can bring out the absolute worst in people, and it looks like Rutherford had plenty of it.”

“Let’s hope Marina is willing to speak to us.” Jase sighed as we made our way up the wide staircase that led up to the front porch.

I’d never liked houses this big and opulent. I’d been in some before as a child, back in Italy. They were good for playing hide and seek in, but otherwise, they were so big and empty that your entire family could be inside, and you’d still feel alone.

I waited as Jase rang the doorbell. Even from outside, I could hear the melody echo throughout the massive house. For a long moment, nothing happened. Right as Jase was about to press it again, I heard movement from the other side of the door before it suddenly creaked open a few inches.

“Hello?” A young woman with long, honey-colored hair and clear blue eyes asked as she peered through the small gap.

“Hi.” Jase smiled politely at her. “I’m Agent Park with the SDCT, and this is Costa P.I. We were hoping to speak to Marina Rutherford about the death of her father.”

The woman gasped with surprise before throwing the door open.

“Seriously?” she exclaimed. “Ugh, it’s about time. Come in.”

She ushered us into the house before shutting the door behind us. She was wearing expensive-looking silk pajamas and a long, filmy dressing gown that looked like it might tear at the slightest touch. They were the kind of clothes people wore not for the sake of practicality, but for showing off and looking pretty.

She led us through the main foyer and into a large living room at the back of the house. One of the walls was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out into the back garden of the house. I couldn’t imagine how much money it cost to air-condition this place, considering all the sunlight that must be flooding through the windows right now. Florida heat was no joke, and even now, at the beginning of autumn, the temperatures often drifted close to the three-digit mark.

“So, have you found any new leads?” she asked as she sat down on one of the plush couches in the center of the room and motioned for us to do the same. “That’s why you’re here, right? You finally found proof that Shane had something to do with it?”

“Ms. Rutherford.” Jase smiled nervously. “We might have some new information, but we were hoping to go over the details of that night first, if you don’t mind.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry, it’s just everyone I spoke to kept telling me that it was most likely natural causes. Even the police kept telling me I was wrong. What organization did you say you were from?”

“Oh, the SDCT,” Jase replied. “It stands for Special Domestic Crimes Taskforce. Basically, we take on cases that go beyond run-of-the-mill stuff. Things like trafficking rings, for example.”

“Oh my goodness,” Marina gasped. “Wait, then why are you investigating my dad’s case? Is Shane involved in something? Is that why he killed him? Did he owe somebody drug money or something!?”

“Ms. Rutherford, please calm down,” Jase pleaded as Marina began to screech. I grimaced. In my experience, telling a woman to calm down was usually a surefire way to make her angrier. Fortunately, Marina seemed embarrassed by being seen losing her temper, and she quickly composed herself.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I don’t know what got into me. Anyway, you said you wanted to ask me some questions?”

“Right,” Jase nodded. “Well, to begin with, what happened the night before your father’s body was found?”

“He was just fine,” Marina insisted in a tone that suggested she’d repeated this same statement many times before. “He was feeling a little tired, but he always felt that way, ever since he went into remission.”

“We heard his health was poor,” Jase prompted to see what her response would be.

“It was.” Marina nodded reluctantly. “But he was doing so well! People don’t just drop dead out of the blue like that, right? We had a nice night. We watched some reruns of this dumb soap opera he liked, and then we played a card game. He was laughing and talking the entire time. He was completely fine.”

There was an edge of desperation in her voice, and I felt a little bit of sympathy for her. Regardless of the circumstances, suddenly finding a parent dead without warning would be traumatic for anyone.

“You were the one who found him, right?” Jase asked gently.

“Yes.” Marina nodded. “Usually, we ate breakfast together in the mornings. When he didn’t come down, I thought maybe he was just sleeping in. But then ten O’clock rolled around, and he still hadn’t come out of his room. I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. Then I went inside and…”

She could not continue and dropped her head into her hands. I could hear her crying through short, stuttering breaths.

“Why did you think your brother had something to do with it?” Jase asked, finally getting to the meat of the issue.

“Daddy was going to write him out of the will,” Marina snapped as she looked up at us. Her face contorted with rage, and there was fury in her watery blue eyes. “Shane lost it when he heard