Jack Sheridan came in the coffee room, and walked past the mason jars of Starbucks blend over to one of the officers, who handed him a small notepad and said a few words to him in quiet tones.
Then Sheridan walked over to the woman.
“Miss Beckwith, I’m Detective Jack Sheridan, L.A.P.D. I’m very sorry about what happened here today. If it’s alright, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I’ll try to keep it brief.”
“O.K.” She started to sob again.
Sheridan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and gestured to one of the other officers who brought him a glass of water.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”, she said, downing the water.
“Miss Beckwith,”
“Call me Barbara.”
“Sure. Barbara, is there anyone you can think of who would’ve wanted to see Mr. Montaine dead?”
At that, Barbara started laughing hysterically, spilling water out of both her mouth and nose.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t.”
