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"That's odd."
"I thought so, too, but then she was gone. I kept thinking about it, and I wanted to know more, so I went looking for her. I started to think maybe she and Arthur were together, because I didn't see either of them. Victoria told me that Gretchen had asked about the sculpture in the Seville Room, so I went there, but the room was empty. When I came back into the grand hall, I heard screaming. Everyone was running. I didn’t know what was going on. And then I saw him on the floor." Tears spilled out of her eyes. "If I'd found him earlier, maybe it wouldn't have happened. Maybe I could have stopped it."
"Or you could have been hurt yourself. Did you see anyone when you were looking for Gretchen and Arthur?"
"I remember people pushing past me to get to the show while I was going the other direction, but I couldn't tell you who those people were. I so focused in on Gretchen and Arthur." Her mom paused. "Why are you asking me so many questions, Callie?"
"Because the FBI is going to ask you, and you need to be clear on your answers."
Her mother's gaze narrowed. "Oh, my God, do you think Gretchen killed him?"
"I have no idea." She'd actually been trying to tell her mother in a subtle way that she needed to protect herself, but, clearly, she'd been too ambiguous.
"Maybe Gretchen wanted an affair, and Arthur refused," her mom speculated. "She was stalking him, harassing him. She couldn't take no for an answer. And when he wouldn't leave me, she killed him."
"That's one possibility," she said, a little alarmed at how her mom had put it together so quickly, almost as if she'd come up with it before. She had a feeling Flynn was going to find the answer practiced, and she didn't want that. "Do you have any other ideas?"
"I don't know. That one seems very strong."
"What about Layana?"
"What?" her mom asked in confusion. "The artist who painted Arthur's portrait? Why are you asking about her? Was she at the party?"
"No." She paused, wanting to choose her words carefully. She didn't want to set her mom back with evidence of an affair at this point, even though her mother had already convinced herself that Gretchen was a possible threat to her marriage. But there were no facts to support that.
"Callie, why did you ask me about her?"
"Arthur's assistant, Moira, mentioned to the FBI that Arthur had spoken to Layana the week before he died. I was curious, because the portrait was done a long time ago."
"I don't know why he'd speak to her now. Should I be concerned?"
"I'm just trying to piece things together. Help the FBI find some suspects."
Her mother gave her a suspicious look. "What aren't you telling me, Callie?"
There was so much she wasn't telling her mom she had no idea how to answer that question. "I'm just looking for a motive, a reason for someone to want Arthur dead."
"There's something else going on. You're worried. I can see it in your eyes."
"I'm worried about you."
"I know I struggle, and you often have to carry my weight, but I feel better."
"I'm really glad about that."
"But I want to go home. I want to be near Arthur's things. I can't feel him here. It's so sterile."
"You'll be home soon, but it's important for you to be ready to face everything."
"I'll be ready. I'll make sure Arthur has a good memorial service. That's on me."
"I don't just mean you have to be ready to deal with that." She drew in a breath. "You have to be ready to talk to the FBI about where you were when Arthur was killed."
"I just told you where I was."
"Yes, and the answer concerns me."
"Why? Callie, spit it out. Please, just say it."