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The next person to join Odelia and Chase was Chickie’s sister Nickie. She took one look at the conference room and wrinkled her nose. “Mama and I would like to talk to you but not in here. Mama hates this room. In fact Mama hates every single room in this house except for her own, so if you could talk to us in there, she’d be very much obliged.”

And since Chase and Odelia were most interested in talking to Chickie’s nearest and dearest and didn’t care where the interview was conducted, they followed Nickie Hay out of the room and along the corridor, then up a flight of stairs to the next floor.

Odelia noticed how Chickie’s sister wore house socks of a very colorful and thick design, and was otherwise dressed in plain jeans and a sweater. She looked very much like her sister, only with brown hair instead of blond, but otherwise the same fine-boned face and cupid’s bow mouth.

Nickie was carrying a Starbucks coffee mug in her hand, but didn’t offer any refreshments to Chase or his civilian consultant. Once upstairs, she swiftly moved to the first door on the right, and when it swung open it was almost as if they’d entered a different world. The room was airy and bright, with lots of paintings adorning the walls: small little paintings of boats and seascapes. The color scheme was navy blue and white and seagulls dotted the wallpaper. On the coffee table a large book of paintings by Renoir lay, and in a wicker chair overlooking the garden sat Chickie and Nickie’s mom. She was fair-haired and slender and had large eyes. She’d tucked her feet underneath her and watched as Odelia and Chase took seats on a sofa, Nickie preferring to remain standing.

“Terrible news,” were the woman’s opening words. “Absolutely devastating.”

She didn’t look all that devastated to Odelia, though.

“So what have you found out?” asked Yuki Hay. “Who is responsible for my daughter’s murder? And have you talked to Tyson and asked him how he could have let this happen?”

“So far we’ve only talked to your housekeeper Hortense, ma’am,” said Chase.

“Oh, please don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” said the woman with a light chuckle. “Call me Yuki.”

“Chase Kingsley, Yuki. And this is Odelia Poole.”

“Pleasure,” said Yuki. “Though you’ll agree that the circumstances are not ideal.”

“Mom, don’t be so callous,” said Nickie.

“I’m not being callous. The circumstances are terrible, that’s a fact. Now have you offered these nice police people something to drink?”

“No, I haven’t,” said the young woman, clearly having no intention of offering them anything while she took another sip from her own cup.

“What can I get you?” asked Yuki, directing an annoyed glare at her daughter.

“We’re fine,” said Chase.

“Nonsense. I’m not suggesting you have a stiff whiskey, though I could sure use one.” She got up and walked over to the liquor cabinet, which, Odelia saw, was well stocked.

“Why don’t I pour myself something, and call down for Hortense to bring up some refreshments?”

“Really, Yuki,” said Odelia. “There’s no need.”

“Poppycock,” said the woman, and poured herself a liberal helping of an amber liquid, then picked up her phone and said, “Hortense, please bring the nice detectives something to drink. Tea? Coffee?” she asked, turning to Odelia with an inquisitive look.

“Coffee is fine,” said Odelia, and Chase nodded that he could do with the brew, too.

Moments later Yuki Hay was seated again, sipping from her liquor, and judging from the twin red circles that appeared on her cheeks it was hitting the spot just fine.

“Did your daughter have any enemies?” Odelia asked.

“Where do you want us to start?” said Nickie.

“You simply can’t get where Chickie got in this business without creating a bunch of enemies in the process, Detective,” said Yuki. “So along the way to success the road is littered with disgruntled business partners, musicians, producers, record company executives, competitors, ex-boyfriends and whatnot. The list is endless, and we don’t even know the names of half these people. Success breeds jealousy, and jealousy makes people do strange and horrible things. Luckily Chickie never really got entangled with any of that stuff. She wasn’t one to bear a grudge.” When her daughter made a scoffing sound, she looked up in surprise. “Well, she wasn’t, Nickie.”

“Oh, yes, she was. Chickie could bear a grudge as well as the next diva. And she loved it. She collected grudges and feuds like other people collect shoes or stamps. She even kept notebooks with her grudges so she would remember where she left off.”

“Any of these people happen to be around?” asked Odelia.

“Well, I heard Charlie Dieber is in town. And then there’s Laron Weskit and his wife. And if I’m not mistaken Jamie Borowiak was in here yesterday, getting into another big screaming row with Chickie.”

“Jamie was here?” asked her mother. “Why didn’t she come up to say hi?”

“Because she and Chickie haven’t been on friendly terms for a long time.”

“I didn’t know. Why didn’t anyone tell me? I could have talked some sense into them.”