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Josie waited a few beats and tried again. “Margot, please. I just have a few more questions for you. I know you’ve been under a tremendous amount of stress this weekend with all that’s happened. I’m not looking to make things worse for you. I promise it won’t take long.”
A creaking sounded from behind the door. Then came Margot’s voice, small and squeaky. “I already talked to someone on Friday after Claudia—after Eve found Claudia. I told that guy everything.”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I know. We appreciated your cooperation, especially at such a difficult time, but on Friday we didn’t know all the things we know now, so my colleague couldn’t have known to ask you the questions I’d like to ask you now.”
“I didn’t know about Beau and Eve. I swear to you.”
“I believe you,” said Josie. “Margot, you’re not in trouble. I want you to know that. Really, I just want to talk. Give me five minutes. You can set a timer if you like.”
Another creak. “I left my phone in Raffy’s office.”
“I’ve got mine,” Josie said. She took it out, punched in her passcode and pulled up the timer app. She set it for five minutes. Then she squatted down and placed her phone, screen up, onto the floor. Slowly, she pushed it under the stall. “I’m hitting start right now.”
As she tapped the start button, one of Margot’s feet descended from the toilet seat. “Okay,” she said.
Josie would have preferred to see her face, but she’d work with this. “What can you tell me about Ron Abbott?”
“The internet troll? Everything I know is in the packet that Raffy and I made. Didn’t he give it to you?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “But Raffy didn’t know why Abbott suddenly stopped trying to terrorize Beau and Claudia last year. I wondered if you did.”
“No. I’m sorry. I have no idea. One day he just stopped.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Only that he was a complete psychopath. A sick, sick psychopath. I told Beau he should talk to you guys, but he said that the guy would get tired of being ignored eventually and just go away. He was right.”
“Margot, don’t take this the wrong way. I have to ask. Did anything romantic or sexual ever happen between you and Beau Collins?”
There was a beat of silence, then a rustling and the loud clank of the toilet seat slamming down on the rim. The stall door flew open. Margot stood before Josie, chest heaving, face lobster red. “Are you kidding me? That is so gross. No. Never. The other guy asked me that, too. Why do you all think that me and Beau…” She looked up at the ceiling and shuddered. “It’s too gross to even think about.”
“Fair enough,” Josie said, bending to retrieve her phone from between Margot’s feet.
“Just because he was sleeping with Eve doesn’t mean that I would. Blech.” Her mouth twisted in disgust.
“You seem to know him really well,” Josie said. “The two of you have a level of intimacy that seems rare for a boss and employee.”
Margot strode past Josie to the sinks and studied her face in the mirror. Her eyes widened when she saw the deep flush of her cheeks. She turned on the nearest faucet and used her hands to dab her face with cold water. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “But it’s only because Beau is a really nice guy. This is my first real job. I graduated from Denton University with a degree in communications. I wanted to stay here but I couldn’t find work. Then I completely flubbed my interview with Beau, but he was so kind and so gracious. I wouldn’t have given me the job, but he did. He’s always been nice and not ever in a creepy way, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She met Josie’s eyes in the mirror. Josie said nothing.
“So yeah, maybe it seems like we’re…I don’t know…informal or something, but that’s Beau. He’s always been a good guy—I mean, I thought so but now that I know about Eve, I’m rethinking every interaction I ever had with him. Everything he ever said, everything I ever saw him do, everything I ever overheard. Like this one time—”
She stopped talking and turned the faucet off. Her flush had reduced to a healthy pink. Josie surreptitiously checked the timer on her phone. One minute and thirty-seven seconds.
“This one time what?” she prompted.
According to the timer, she took seven seconds to think it over. “I guess it doesn’t matter now,” she said finally. “This one time a few months ago, I overheard Beau and Claudia fighting. It was here in the studio. In his office. He had sent me to get him lunch and when I came back, his door was closed but they were loud enough that I could hear a lot of what they were saying. I didn’t catch all of it but from what I could gather, he found loads of cash in her briefcase. Like, tons. He was completely beside himself. He kept saying how could she do this without even consulting him, stuff like that. Then that stupid producer, Kathy, came down the hall. She’s always ratting everyone out over everything, and I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I went back to the studio and waited for him to call me.”
“Did you ever ask him about it?” Josie said.
“I wasn’t going to, but he was so off for the next couple of days that finally, I just blurted out that I’d overheard them. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. I mean, I need this job.”
Less than thirty seconds. Josie said, “What did he say?”
“That Claudia had liquidated a very large account of theirs because she wanted to make a cash donation to the new women’s center. She wanted it to be in cash because she didn’t want the donation coming back to them. She didn’t want it to look like they were trying to get good press by making such a large donation. He said he was angry that she didn’t consult him at all—not that he would have stopped her, but just that it was such a large amount of cash, in both their names, and she should have come to him first.”
“How much cash?” Josie asked.
