A Widow's Guilty Secret. Marie Ferrarella

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      Juarez paled slightly beneath his peaked complexion. “Are you asking me to look closer?” he asked warily.

      Nick rolled his eyes. “That might be helpful, yeah,” he retorted.

      One of the uniformed policemen, older by a couple of decades than the queasy detective, took pity on Juarez—who looked as if he wanted to bolt for the trees again—and made his way over to the body in question.

      Looking at what was left of the man on the ground, the officer nodded, confirming Nick’s query.

      “It’s the sheriff all right.” Somewhat intrigued rather than repulsed, the policeman squinted and took a closer look at the other two bodies that had been unearthed at the same time. Genuine surprise registered on his leathery face. “And that looks like Senator Merris. Saw him at a fund-raiser once. I was part of the security detail.” His own words seemed to hit him and he appeared properly stunned. “Holy cow, this is a real live senator.”

      “Not quite,” Nick pointed out.

      “Yeah,” the policeman agreed. “There’s that.” He looked up at Nick, the magnitude of the situation finally hitting him. “This is big.”

      Rather than comment on what seemed to be very obvious—and since Juarez was still struggling even to glance down, Nick directed the officer’s attention to the third body. “You know him?”

      The older man shuffled closer and looked at the last dead man intently for several seconds. He frowned, frustrated.

      “He seems familiar, but—” he shook his head helplessly. “Sorry, can’t place him.”

      Striking out, Nick looked pointedly at Juarez. “How about you?”

      Unable to get around his duty any longer, Juarez was forced to take a look. Actually, it was more like taking a fleeting glance in the body’s direction. Exhaling the breath he’d been holding, Juarez shook his dark head adamantly.

      “No, I don’t know him,” he confirmed with relief.

      But the policeman wasn’t through as he continued to study the only unidentified man. Circling the body, he looked at the face from every angle.

      Finally, he said, “I think he used to live around here before he went off to California—or maybe it was some other place out West.” He glanced up at Nick. “He had family here if it’s the guy I’m thinking of. I can ask around,” he offered.

      “You do that,” Nick turned the offer into an instruction.

      Then he turned to his boy partner. Juarez’s face still lacked color. He made up his mind that come tomorrow, if things didn’t change, he was working this case solo. Juarez’s wife was due soon with their first child. Maybe the younger detective could take some time off and be of some use to her.

      But that still left today. “You up to doing a little traveling?” he asked.

      Rather than immediately answering, Juarez asked uneasily, “To where?”

      “I think we need to inform the sheriff’s wife that she just became his widow.”

      In his experience, approximately 50 percent of the men and women who were killed died at the hands of their spouse. Whether this was the case in Burris’s murder remained to be seen. The sooner he ruled out the sheriff’s other half, the sooner he could move on and maybe even find out exactly who was responsible for this modern-day bloodbath in a sleepy town.

      He scanned what might or might not have been the actual crime scene. Things would never be the same.

      Not for a lot of people.

      “Did you forget your key?” Suzy called out as she yanked open the front door in response to the ringing doorbell.

      It wouldn’t have been the first time that Peter had forgotten his house key. But if everything went right, it would be one of the last, she thought.

      Suzy did her best to contain the nervous anticipation that all but vibrated through her. She’d been up for most of the night, not because of the baby, but because she kept hearing Peter come through the door.

      Each and every time it just turned out to be her imagination, hard at work. What that meant, she decided, was that she really wanted to get this divorce matter out and on its way.

      Throwing open the front door, she found herself on the receiving end of a surprise. And not the pleasant kind, she couldn’t help thinking.

      Suzy instinctively took a step back.

      Her hand on the doorknob, she started to close the door again, intent on locking out the strangers on her doorstep.

      The sheriff’s wife was quick, but Nick was quicker. He blocked her motion with his hand, at the same time putting his foot over the sill to keep the door from closing.

      “We need to talk with you, Mrs. Burris,” Nick said as his tongue-tied partner appeared somewhat startled by her behavior and all too ready to retreat.

      Nick watched as suspicion came and then went from the pretty blonde’s cornflower-blue eyes. She appeared to regard them both in silence for a moment, then said in a hushed tone, “You know my name. Why is it you know my name?”

      She had a bad feeling about this—and it was escalating by the moment as she waited for an answer. She looked from one man to the other, then back at the older detective. Waiting.

      “Would you mind if we stepped inside, Mrs. Burris?” Nick suggested, gesturing into her house. He was surprised when she remained planted before him. “This isn’t the kind of thing a person likes to hear while standing in the doorway of her house.”

      Suzy raised her chin, thinking herself already prepared for the worst. “Sitting on the sofa isn’t going to change whatever it is that you have to say to me, Detective …” She deliberately let her voice trail off, waiting for the tall, strikingly handsome dark-haired man to fill in the blank.

      “Jeffries,” he told her, then nodded toward Juarez. “And this is Detective Juarez,” he added before going back to what she’d said. “No, it won’t,” Nick readily agreed. “But it just might help you to cushion the shock—no pun intended,” he interjected when his own words played themselves back in his head. He didn’t want her to think he was being flip at her expense.

      Cushion the shock. Just how great a shock, she wondered. Suzy felt oddly numb, yet still somehow in control. Or so she told herself.

      “Is he hurt?” she asked in a voice so quiet, it was almost a whisper. “Is my husband hurt?” she amended when neither man standing on her doorstep answered her.

      “It’s worse than that, ma’am,” Nick told her, trying to be as gentle as possible.

      Suzy felt her stomach lurch, then turn over. She struggled to pull herself together. She could handle this, she told herself. Whatever the somber-looking detective in the dark suit had to tell her, she could handle it. She could handle anything. She had to. She had practically a newborn depending on her. She had to remember that.

      “May СКАЧАТЬ