“What about Sean? He’s not a threat to the inheritance?”
Mitzie snorted. “I don’t know how all that shit works, but I’m guessing he is because he’s up next on her list.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice, “So if you kill him, you’ll be doing her a favor.”
“You got any proof what you’re saying is true?”
“Talk to Carter. He’ll tell you his dad called him the day he died and asked him to meet him the next day for lunch. Said he needed to talk to him about something in person.” She placed her empty glass on the table. “You get more when I get more.”
I filled her glass and gestured for her to continue.
“His dad thought Pamela was having an affair and hired a PI to investigate. He must’ve been pretty good, because he found out about Pamela’s studio hidden on the property. And that’s what Carter’s dad wanted to talk to him about.”
“And how do you know any of that?”
“Because I was in the car with Carter when the PI called after his dad died. I heard every word he said.”
“If the PI found the studio, then how did Carter end up in jail instead of Pamela?”
“Because she killed his dad and paid off the PI.”
“Do you have any proof?”
She snorted a laugh. “Do you think I would be sitting here if I had proof of all the shit she’s done?” She finished the remainder of her drink and gave me an expectant look.
“What’s the PI’s name?” I asked while I refilled her glass.
“Brian Sullivan or something like that. I know his last name started with an s because Pamela thought it was hilarious that his initials were B.S.”
I nodded and waited for her to continue. But she didn’t. Her eyes were starting to droop, and it was clear she wasn’t going to be coherent much longer. So, I took the opportunity to ask a question I hoped she would answer honestly, though I was taking anything that came out of her mouth with a grain of salt. “What about Sean?”
“What about him?”
“How involved in all of this is he?”
She exhaled heavily and seemingly tried to focus. “He didn’t know anything about it until today.”
“What about the kidnapping? Did you tell him it was staged?”
“Does it matter?” she slurred.
I shrugged. “Not to me. But I’m sure it does to him. And maybe his father.”
She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Carter only cares about two things: his son and his money.”
“Sounds like he cared about his dad.”
“He did, but his dad’s dead.”
“About that. How do you know Pamela was behind his death?”
“Because she made me help her do it.”
“Made you?”
“Made me. Paid me. Whatever.”
“And Sean?” I prompted.
“Sean’s an idiot,” she said as her head lolled to the side. “And he fucks like he sparkles.” She raised her head, looked me directly in the eyes, and opened her mouth as if she was going to say more, but fell forward face first onto the table before she could.