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Jo retrieved gloves and an evidence bag from the Crown Vic and collected the figurines while Sandra returned to work. “We may as well have them checked for prints, although I’m not sure how much use it will be. Anybody could have touched them at any time.”
“But if we get a clear print, it may at least point us in the right direction,” Arnett said.
After securing the evidence bag back in the trunk of the car, and asking Sandra to get a hold of the other two women who’d received double grant payments, Jo and Arnett turned toward interviewing the admin and support staff. Knowing too well how quickly office gossip spread, they started with Janelle Robinson, Rhea Blondell’s administrative assistant. Janelle’s alarm and confusion when asked about the fraudulent grant applications felt genuine to both Jo and Arnett, sending them into their interview with Rhea Blondell more confused than ever. They went directly from the conference room to Rhea’s office to talk with her before anyone else, especially Janelle, had a chance.
Rhea rose from her desk when they entered and greeted them. Tall and thin, her brown eyes were puffed and her brown skin looked sickly—but her grief was layered with anger. Once they sat, she didn’t wait for them to start.
“Two women, both associated with Beautiful Bouncing Babies, have been murdered. How is that possible?” Rhea crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.
Jo kept her face passive as she weighed Rhea’s response. Anger was a common response to death, especially unexpected, violent death. Pointing that reaction at law enforcement was just as common. But that sort of attack was also an effective strategy for putting someone off balance and maintaining control of an interaction—and Jo wasn’t about to concede it.
“That’s what we need to find out, as soon as possible,” Jo said. “Have you noticed anything strange lately, any suspicious people or cars lurking in your parking lot, anything like that?”
She gave a single, sharp shake of her head. “Nothing.”
So Rhea was a woman of few words. “Was anyone having an issue with Naomie?” Jo asked.
“Your question makes no sense.” Rhea’s eyes pierced hers. “Madison was the first to die. Either she’s the one who someone had a problem with, or a very sick individual is hunting pregnant women.”
“We can’t know what’s important and what isn’t until we have all relevant context,” Jo said, carefully holding on to her neutral expression. “Were you aware that Naomie’s administrative assistant stumbled on a fraudulent grant application submitted in Madison’s name, and that Naomie was investigating who was responsible for it? And that she found two other clients with similar double disbursements?”
The question had the effect Jo wanted. Rhea’s face paled, and red blotches appeared on her neck as she processed the implications. “Fraudulent grant applications?”
“Yes.” Jo silently handed her a printout of the relevant documents.
Rhea’s eyes flicked expertly. “Two disbursements, when they were only entitled to one.” She glared up at Jo. “How did this happen?”
“You tell us. It’s your job to monitor grant dispersals,” Jo said.
Rhea’s eyes bounced between the documents and their faces. “Why didn’t Naomie come to me about this?”
Jo tilted her head. “That’s a very insightful question, I think.”
The blotches on Rhea’s neck widened into a solid sea of crimson. “What are you implying?”
“I’m trying to find out why your business partner was murdered, and from what you said when we arrived, I assume you want that, too. If so, I need you to answer our questions instead of just turning them back to us. Did you know anything about this, and if so, what? If not, explain to us how it got past you.”
For a moment Rhea looked like a pressure cooker about to explode. But then she flipped through the papers again.
“Grant requests come in to Janelle. She takes them, enters them into the system, then evaluates them. If they qualify, she brings them to me for signature. I admit, I only spot-check her work. I have to rely on her to do her job so I can do mine.” She stood, opened her office door and stuck her head out. “Janelle, can you come in here?”
Janelle came in, her expression worried and her posture stooped. “How can I help?”
“Can you explain how two grant applications for the same period were approved for Madison Coelho?”
Janelle straightened slightly. “I didn’t think to check through the disbursements from before I hired on. It didn’t occur to me that someone would try to slip a second application past me. I apologize. It’s completely my fault. I’ll replace the funds from my own money.”
Jo watched Rhea’s expression as Janelle responded. Frustration and anger dominated, but something else mixed in—regret?
“That won’t be necessary. The larger damage here is that we could be called to account for failing to have proper protections in place when dealing with disbursal of government funds. We’ll need to write up an account of what happened and why for the grant report. I’ll also need you to see if you can track what happened to the funds.”
“We’re already tracing that,” Jo said. “In Madison’s case, the check was taken to a Citizens Bank branch and cashed out. My guess is when we pull a copy of the canceled check, the signature on the back will match Madison’s. We’re also looking to see if they still have security footage for the transaction.”
“Janelle should be able to get copies of the canceled checks for you before you leave today.” The red began to recede from Rhea’s neck. “Is there anything else you need from her?”
“No,” Jo said. “But we do have a few more questions for you.”
Rhea nodded at Janelle, effectively dismissing her. Once the door was closed behind her, Jo continued. “How well known are your procedures here? Meaning, who would have known about how these grant disbursements in particular would work?”
