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    IMMORALITY LEADS TO DEATH !
    It seemed like a silly prank, the kind of thing Amanda might have laughed off as some nutcase gone awry with a scissors and stack of
People
magazines. “Any idea of the authorship?”
    “No prints or fibers or saliva. It was dropped off in a taped envelope with no return address. No stamp or cancellation marks, either. Someone dropped it in her mail slot in Sacramento. That narrows it down to about a million people. I wanted to pursue it, but Davida nixed questioning her colleagues. She was trying to woo a couple of detractors, hoping to sway them to see the light and didn’t want the police turning them hostile. So we dropped it.” Newell grimaced. “In light of what happened, big mistake.”
    Barnes asked, “Were you thinking the White Tower was behind it?”
    “At that point I didn’t because they hadn’t bothered her yet.”
    “Bledsoe’s still in Idaho?”
    Newell nodded. “It would be nice if he stepped over the border. He’s got some outstanding traffic warrants here in California.”
    Something was tickling Barnes’s brain as he watched as Hizzoner and Lucille Grayson emerge from the back of the limo. The old woman remained erect and dry-eyed. Soon the shock would lift and grief would engulf her. He needed to talk to her while she could still talk.
    “Where’s Mrs. Grayson going, Donnie?”
    “To see her lawyer. Final arrangements.”
    Amanda said, “Would you mind introducing her to us…or rather me? You people already know each other.”
    “It’s been awhile,” Barnes said. Then he remembered what was nagging at his brain. “Doesn’t Marshall Bledsoe’s mother live in LA?”
    Newell shrugged. “Don’t know.”
    “I think she does. San Fernando Valley as I recall. Now Thanksgiving is, what…a week away? I wonder if Marshall will be paying Mom a visit.” Barnes smiled. “If he has warrants, we have probable cause.”
    “I’ll have to coordinate with LAPD,” Amanda said. “In the meantime, let’s talk to Lucille Grayson, then I want to poke around the capital. I know some politically connected people so maybe I won’t be as threatening as Don.”
    “Plus, you’re a lot prettier and tons more charming,” Newell said.
    Amanda’s smile started off frosted but thawed in a nanosecond. “People may like me, but no one doesn’t
love
my husband’s money.”
             
    “Willie Barnes.” Lucille eyed him head to toe. “You grew up and you got old.”
    Barnes winked. “That about sums it up, Mrs. Grayson.”
    The old woman sighed. “I never did get a chance to tell you how sorry I was about your brother, Jack.”
    “You sent me a lovely sympathy card, ma’am.”
    “Did I?”
    “Yes, you did. I appreciated it and wrote you back.”
    “Well, then…now I’m telling you in person how sorry I was.”
    “Mrs. Grayson, I am so sorry about Davida. She was a fine woman and a real asset to this community. She was loved, respected and admired. It is a profound loss for everyone, but my heart goes out to you. I’m truly sorry.”
    Lucille nodded. “Thank you, Will.”
    “This is my partner, Detective Isis, ma’am.” Barnes watched Lucille give Amanda a polite nod.
    Amanda said, “Solving this isn’t only our top priority, it’s Berkeley’s top priority.”
    The old woman nodded and turned back to Barnes. “What do you think about the mayor, Willie?”
    Thrown by the question, Barnes formulated his answer as quickly as he could. “He’s very concerned, ma’am.”
    “Concerned for Davida or concerned for the town’s image?” When Barnes didn’t answer, she said, “I have an appointment with my lawyer in a half hour. If you need to reach me, I’ll be at the club for the next couple of days.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Grayson, I appreciate your cooperation. Could you spare a few minutes for a couple of questions?”
    The old woman didn’t agree but she didn’t walk away. Amanda went first. “Did Davida express any concerns