Sandra didn’t need him to finish his sentence. Ryan was still refusing to release Edward Hanson for medical care, putting his life at risk.
“Can you say that again?” Neal’s voice rose several notches as he spoke into his phone. “Let me put you on speaker because noone here is going to believe me.” He pulled his phone back, hit a button, and said to the team, “It’s Detective Birch.”
“Hey, so as I was just telling Lieutenant Coleman…” Eric filled them in on his conversation with Peter Carmichael.
“Holy hell? Are you being serious right now? If he strayed, he had to pay her one hundred and fifty—” Gibson snapped his mouth shut, but his widened eyes emphasized his shock.
Sandra was more interested in identifying Timothy’s right-hand man. “Mr. Carmichael used those words,attached at the hip, when referring to his security guard?”
“His words verbatim.”
Sandra met Donny’s eyes.
“Thanks, Eric. I appreciate you stepping away from the accident investigation to speak with Carmichael,” Neal told him.
“Not a problem.”
Neal ended the call and lowered his phone. “Timothy had a lot of motivation to hide his indiscretions.”
“And bury anyone who could expose them,” Monica put in.
He’s not the only one…“Edward Hanson also has sound reason to claim ignorance. Timothy’s estate would still be in the legal system. The survival clause would affect the dispersion of Timothy’s will.”
“We’re assuming he knew about the prenup and his father’s affairs,” Donny put in.
Sandra was thinking with that much money on the line, Timothy would have made a point of telling his son about the prenup.
“I just can’t believe the prenup survives death.” Monica blew out a breath. “All of you heard that too? Just crazy.”
“Still, what’s that amount of money to these people?” Gibson gestured toward the house. “They’re billionaires.”
“No one likes to be parted from their money. Least of all rich people,” Neal said.
Sandra wasn’t interested in going down this avenue any further. There was always a divide among people who had money and those who didn’t. Neither side could have any comprehension about life at the other end of the spectrum unless a person had lived both. Sandra had. Her beginnings were humble. Her father was a police officer, and her mother was a stay-at-home mom. They had a nice house in a nice neighborhood, basic and nothing fancy. When she and her twin brother, Sam, were adopted by the Davenports, the affluent lifestyle they were exposed to was foreign. Being a fish out of water didn’t begin to describe the initial feeling. But her thoughts returned to the present. Specifically, identifying Timothy’s right-hand man.“Gibson, do you think you could call your contact in HR at Hanson Property and ask who Timothy Hanson’s main security guy was? I’m thinking if this man was as attached to Timothy’s hip as Carmichael said then he might do anything for his employer.”
“Even murder,” Donny put in, and Sandra nodded.
“I can check on that,” Gibson told her.
“It doesn’t sound like Timothy had any friends or close associates otherwise, so tracking down that guy might be the key.” Neal’s phone rang again, and he answered on speaker. “Officer Moore, you’ve got the team.”
“I spoke with Sabrina Brown, and it doesn’t sound good. She didn’t say much, but I sense she’s terrified about speaking out and what the repercussions might be.”
“Such as?” Sandra asked, longing for specifics over assumptions.
“She mentioned getting fired, but I sensed there was more. On another note, she didn’t confirm or deny an NDA.”
“It’s too bad that you couldn’t get her to say more,” Neal told her.
“I did my best, Lieutenant.”
“Are you still at Hanson Property Development?”
“I am.”
“Okay, just hang around for a few minutes. I might have you talk with someone else while you’re there.”
“You got it.” Moore ended the call.
