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"She was in love with Arthur. He allegedly told her he would leave my mother for her, but he had to pick the right time, because my mother had mental problems and she'd go crazy when she found out. Apparently, as time dragged on, Layana got impatient. She decided to spur things along last week when she sent my mom the photo. She assumed that my mother flipped out after she saw it and killed Arthur. That's why she sent the text yesterday. But here's the thing—my mother never opened that email. I don't think she saw it."
"You were looking at her mail from your computer. She might have looked at it through an app on her phone and it didn't show as read."
"Well, we can check it from her phone, too. But I don't think she saw it. She didn't check her email every day."
"Okay." He thought about what she'd told him. "So Layana thinks your mother killed Arthur, but if she didn't, we still don't know who did."
"I asked her a few more questions, thinking the same thing, that we need more information about Arthur's life. Layana said that Arthur got very nervous on Wednesday night. He was supposed to meet up with her after he got back from Palm Springs, but then he bailed at the last minute. She thought it was because he'd found out about the photo she'd sent that morning."
"Interesting. Savannah got Arthur's work schedule, and he called in sick that day. But he didn't take Layana with him to the desert."
"Not that day anyway. I asked her who else Arthur might have been upset with. I even suggested that he was buying stolen art. She said she couldn't believe that, that he had too much respect for artists to do that. She did say that he was upset with Gretchen Vale, that he'd purchased some art from her, and it hadn't arrived."
"Gretchen's name comes back up," he murmured, feeling another tug on that old string. "Anything else?"
"No. That's it. I did good, right?"
Seeing the expectant smile on her face, he couldn't help but smile back. "You did good. But you shouldn't have done anything without me. I'm glad you're all right. This could have ended up differently. You don't confront people who are threatening you without at least some backup."
"I've always fought to protect my mom, and I never had any backup. I guess this felt like that."
"But it's not, because Arthur is dead. You can't forget that, Callie."
"I take your point, but it felt good to do something proactive. Yesterday, I felt like I was moving around in a daze, and this morning I felt so much more like myself. I'm not a victim. I'm a fixer. If something is broken, I try to fix it."
He nodded, understanding where that desire came from. She'd had to grow up on her own, with no one to fix her problems. He'd felt like that after his dad's crimes had come to light. He'd taken everything on himself. He'd known he had to be the man in the family, take care of his mom, take care of himself. He'd never let anyone else shoulder that burden. Callie hadn't, either. They'd each turned themselves into fortresses on their own private islands. He wondered if she ever felt as lonely as he did.
"Flynn?" she questioned.
"After the way you grew up, I understand why you need to fix what's broken. How is your mom?"
She let out a sigh. "She was asleep when I went there. The nurse claimed she's not as emotional as she was, that she actually ate a little something for breakfast, and that she was sleeping without sedation. I guess that's good. But why is she still so tired?"
"Because her brain and body are processing a horrific event."
"I suppose. I just wish we could have spoken. I hope she knows I've been checking on her. Dr. Clarke will see her this afternoon. He's supposed to call me with an update."
"So, after you left your mom's, you needed to do something. That's why you went to Layana's studio."
"I had already decided to go there before that, but I did have some energy to burn off after I left the hospital." She paused. "There is a little more."
He didn't like the guilty look in her eyes. "What else did you do?"
"Well, Layana kept saying how my mom killed Arthur, and I said I could think of someone else who might have been just as motivated."
"You didn't," he breathed, both impressed and alarmed by her audacity. "You accused her of killing Arthur. What did she do?"
"She threw her coffee at me and I ran."
"Oh, my God, Callie."
"That might not have been the best decision," she admitted. "The words just came out."
"Which is why you're not supposed to be doing these things on your own."
"Well, it's done. She didn't follow me or try to hurt me. Anyway, that's the whole story. I think we need to get down to Palm Springs."
"I'm tempted to turn around and take you home."