Today's Reading
"Ms. Barnes, I'm Jack Tucker with the County Crimes Against Persons Bureau." He extended his hand.
Instead of grasping his fingers, her lips parted slightly, and she stared at him, her eyes going a tad glassy.
Aftershock?
Was she going to pass out?
"Why don't you sit again for a minute?" He moved forward to take her arm and help her back into the car.
"No." She scooted along the fender, toward the trunk—and out of his reach. "No. I'm f-fine."
That was a lie. Quivers rippled through her, and her pallor had worsened. "I'd like to speak with you for a few minutes. Shall we find a warmer spot?"
"Here is fine. But I already told the officer everything I know." At the chill in her voice, he scrutinized her. Fear... anxiety... nervousness...all of those emotions were understandable in this situation.
But what had prompted her subtle animosity?
Once again, his antennas went up. "I'd like to hear it straight from you, if you don't mind." He pulled out a notebook and pen, reining in a shudder as a frigid gust of wind whooshed past. Man, it was way too early for this kind of cold. "Tell me why you were here and what happened after you arrived."
She burrowed deeper into her coat and repeated the same story Meyers had relayed.
He let her finish before speaking. "Was the open garage door unusual?"
"It seemed strange to me, but I haven't worked for the Robertsons long enough to know if it's that uncommon."
"Has it ever been open on any of your prior visits?"
"No."
"Same question about the deactivated security system."
"Same answer. But James Robertson was home. He must have turned it off."
Not necessarily. The murderer could have gained access prior to Robertson's arrival.
The question was how.
"Other than you and the owners, are you aware of anyone else who has the access code?"
"No. And mine was unique to me. To all users, I assume. Ms. Robertson was very clear that their system tracks the codes entered and they could find out if anyone visited without an invitation." Her shivering intensified. "Are we almost f-finished?"
"For now. But let's talk a little more about the person you saw in the kitchen."
"I don't have anything else to say. As I told the officer, they were covered head to toe. I gave him a description of the clothing."
"How tall would you say this person was?"
"I don't know." A puff of cold air materialized in front of her face as she blew out a shaky breath. "My view was from an odd angle, and I only saw the full figure for a handful of seconds."
"Best guess."
Twin furrows appeared on her brow. "Using the Sub-Zero fridge they passed as a gauge, maybe five nine or ten?"
On the tall side for a woman, but the perpetrator could have been female. "Any hints about gender?"
"No. The coat was unisex and almost knee-length. The feet were kind of large"—her frown deepened—"but now that I think about it, the boots were more like overshoes rather than real boots. The kind some people wear to protect their shoes in bad weather."
Or to mask footprints at the scene of a crime.
And they tended to be bulky, so the size of the foot didn't provide much of a clue to gender, either.
This excerpt ends on page 20 of the paperback edition.
Monday we begin the book The Winged Tiara by J'nell Ciesielski.
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