She frowned. That still didn’t explain Jason’s obsession with the trees at Atherton Prep. Maybe Dru had said the wrong thing. She had been bleeding and in pain.
Max waited for her coffee, drank a cup, dispensed with e-mail, then quickly showered and dressed. Today called for professional, because she might have to talk herself into Dru’s room. As she was about to leave, her e-mail popped, a message from Shelley. She’d attached a list of property owned by Rebecca Cross, DL Environmental, or R4E. There were only four, two owned by Rebecca Cross, and two owned by DL Environmental. DL owned the house Dru and her friends rented and J. C. Potrero’s condo. Cross owned the house Max had followed J. C. to yesterday, plus a remote property off Phleger Road. It was in the county, in the mountains west of Woodside. The area was mostly open space and protected land, but any original property ownership was grandfathered in decades ago, with right of survivorship.
It was less than thirty minutes from a town, but remote nonetheless. Few people lived up there full time.
It might just be time for a day trip.
The case had become far more interesting. Lies, money laundering, murder. Ben would be furious with her because this was going to take time, but she didn’t care. Jason’s murder had grabbed her and she wouldn’t be able to let go until she solved it.
Max left her hotel and drove toward Sequoia Hospital. Almost immediately, she noticed that she was being followed. Or was she being paranoid? Maybe the break-in while she’d been in Kevin’s apartment had thrown her for more of a loop than she thought.
After a couple of turns, she didn’t think paranoia was to blame. The car was a white Mercedes with partially tinted windows. With the angle of the early morning sun, she couldn’t make out any distinguishing characteristics of the driver. There was no front license plate, a violation of state law unless it was a new purchase. The car looked new, but she wasn’t a good judge with cars.
She drove straight to Sequoia Hospital. The Mercedes passed by, but she still thought it had been following her.
Max checked in at the desk for a visitor’s badge. She had to give the name and room number of the person she was visiting, but no flags were raised. The desk told her to check in with the second-floor nurse’s station, but Max ignored that request. She didn’t want anyone questioning her right to be there.
She caught the nurses at a busy time as meals were being cleared and visiting hours had just started. Max slipped into room 242. It was a two-bed room, but right now Dru was alone. She looked small and pale on the stark white sheets. She had a breathing tube in her nose. Max had a flash of sitting next to her in the parking garage, holding her scarf on the girl’s abdomen, blood seeping through her fingers. That she’d survived defied the odds. She was a fighter, and Max hoped she still had fight in her. If Dru came clean, Max would move heaven and earth to help her.
Max looked at the chart in the slot next to the bed. Dru had been downgraded this morning from critical to serious. Max couldn’t read everything, but it appeared that the surgery had lasted six hours to repair damage, her lung had been punctured but after twenty-four hours in recovery she’d regained consciousness.
Dru opened her eyes as if sensing there was someone watching her. “Hey.” Her voice was low and gravelly.
“Don’t talk.” That was a dumb thing to say. Max planned to ask questions. She sat down on the chair next to the bed. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“You. Thanks.”
“Dru, I need to ask you some questions, but I think I know the answers and I don’t want you to get upset or work yourself up, okay? So I’m going to tell you what I think happened, and if I’m wrong, squeeze my hand.”
She nodded. She looked defeated but emboldened. Someone had tried to kill her but she survived. That changed a person, and Max was counting on that change to be for the better.
“Your ex-boyfriend J. C. Potrero used you to launder money from DL Environmental. I haven’t figured out what his scam is, but I will. The car that nearly ran me over in the parking garage, driven by who I think stabbed you, is owned by Rebecca Cross. She’s a teacher at Ca?ada College. Do you know her?”
Dru nodded once.
“I think that J. C. or Rebecca found out that Detective Santini came to talk to you and felt you were a liability. You know something they don’t want the police to know. Did J. C. kill Jason?”
Dru squeezed Max’s hand. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
“That’s okay. Was this money laundering scheme to hide donations to DLE?”
She shook her head.
“Were they getting money somewhere else but saying it was from DLE?”
She nodded.
Max’s stomach flipped. She was close. She thought about Evergreen—construction was ripe for graft and corruption. Maybe they planned on robbing the construction site and Jason got wind of it—but that didn’t feel right. Still, she asked, “Were they robbing construction sites using DLE to launder the money?”
“No. No.”
The machine Dru was attached to started beeping as her heart rate rose.
“Shh, Dru, don’t get yourself upset. Okay?”
“Pot.”
“Potrero?”
Dru shook her head. “They have a pot farm. I don’t know where.”
Drugs? This was all about drugs?
“And Jason found out? Maybe tried to help you?”
She shook her head again. “Jason didn’t know. I don’t know why they’d kill him.”
“But they did kill him, right?”
“I don’t know. I swear.”