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Cranston turned it off again and once again added, “Say it like you’re trying to sound like a man.”
Cranston pressed record.
Margot shook her head and then leaned in close and said, “Hey Cassandra, this is Margot. While I do think you are a bitch, I didn’t threaten you and I certainly didn’t shoot at you. Have a nice day.”
Anderson turned off the recorder.
“The phrase was ‘I hear my name coming out your mouth one more time, bitch and I’m putting a cap in your pretty face.’”
“Said like a man,” Cranston added.
Margot motioned for them to turn back on the recorder.
When they did she said, “Go fuck yourselves.”
“You’re not helping yourself here, Margot.”
Margot shrugged. “I think I’ve said all I’ve got to say.”
Anderson changed tactics. “Where were you at eleven o’clock Thursday night?”
“At your colleague’s place. Do you want to know what we were doing?”
“I think I can guess.”
“So, can I leave now?”
“Where was your old pal Malachi Flynn?”
“I have no idea.”
“You sure? You haven’t seen him since he bolted from that crime scene up in Riverside?”
“Yeah.”
“What if I told you he’d been seen driving out of the parking lot of your apartment building as recently as last week?”
“Are you telling me that or is this a hypothetical?”
“What if I were to tell you that same vehicle was seen speeding out of Cassandra Cole’s neighborhood the night someone took a shot at her?”
“I think you have my answer on tape. Go ahead and play it back, save me the trouble of saying it again.”
“Did you send your old lover to scare that kid? Or maybe he was supposed to hit her?”
When Margot didn’t reply Anderson said, “Could be he doing it on his own? When it came to you, he was always like a lovesick puppy.”
“You going to say something?” Cranston asked.
“No, I’m not,” Margot told him. Even though Anderson's second theory made some sense to her, she didn’t want to tell him that.
“You sure you don’t know where Mal is these days? We could be asking him these questions instead of you.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Which makes it kind of a bummer I don’t.”
“How about last Saturday around 11 a.m.? Were you doing something unmentionable with Detective Radcliff then too?”
“Why? Someone shoot at Cassie twice?”
