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“Find anything?”
“Very little,” she said, slumping into the chair across from him. She didn’t tell him of the poison, or the fact that the medical report was all but confirming murder. Her father had always told her to keep her cards close to her chest. And while she might have trusted Arlo to use the black card, she wasn’t sure she could trust him with sensitive information pertaining to the case. “Do you remember any of the prostitutes that were brought on board from this stop? If I showed you a picture of one, would you recognize her?”
Arlo nodded. “Probably.”
She showed him one she’d snapped of the girl named Cass as she and Tony were rushing away. “Does she look familiar?”
He brought it close to his eyeline and tilted his head. “Yep. That’s her. But she was with the other one. The fat guy. Not so much Franklin.”
“Oh.” She pulled up a picture she’d snapped of Tina. “What about this one?”
“Yeah. But she left. There was another girl, though. I can’t remember if she was here or in Lyon. But she was with Franklin the most.”
“A prostitute?”
“Didn’t look like a prostitute. Looked too wealthy for that. Had red hair, cut short.”
Daisy made a note of that, and sighed, her eyes crossing as she tried to read her handwriting. “Can you tell me exactly what you remember from their time in Lyon?”
“Sure.” He drained his glass and crunched on the ice. “We got there a little after midnight. They had a car take them to that Pharoah’s Casino on the river. They came back a little after three . . . I can’t remember if they had that red-haired girl with them in Nice, or in Lyon.”
“You said the red-haired girl was with Franklin?”
He nodded.
“Then probably in Lyon. He brought Tina, the blonde baccarat dealer, back with him at Nice. I interviewed her and she never mentioned a redhead.”
“Yeah.” He stroked his chin. “Makes sense. Anyway, I never saw her leave, but she must’ve before the plane took off, because she wasn’t around when I found out that Tate was dead.”
Daisy gnawed on her lip. “Unless she did stay on, and left the first moment the plane was opened in Venice.”
“Not possible.”
She opened her file and nodded. “Right. The statement from the flight attendant said that it was only men and the other female flight attendant left on board when the flight landed in Venice.”
“Right.”
She rubbed her eyes, her vision blurring again. “I still wish I could talk to those women.”
“Haven’t been able to get in touch with them?”
“No, I’ve called a million times, too.” She tilted her head back and let her eyes slip closed.
“You look tired,” Arlo observed.
She was tired. But now that she took a moment to sit and breathe, she knew she’d probably never fall asleep. Her mind was whirling with all the details of the case. “I know. You can go back to your room. I’m just going to sit here and think for a minute.”
“You sure? I can keep you company.”
She shook her head. “I’d rather you get your rest. I want to head out to the next location early tomorrow. Say, seven?”
He stood and saluted her. “Sure. Have a good night.”
When he left, she sat there, holding the black card, trying to run through the details of the case: what she knew, and what she didn’t know. So far, she’d only managed to confirm that indeed, some shady business had been going on that night, on the plane. But as for who’d been responsible, it was still anyone’s guess. Everyone she’d interviewed so far had either been too inebriated or hadn’t seen anything suspicious.
She really needed to talk to the flight attendants. Grabbing her phone, she looked to see if she’d missed a call from either of them.
There was only one missed call, and it was from Zachary.
