Free Splicer by Theo Cage, Russ Smith

the click of her heels on the well-worn marble of the courthouse hall floor echo up against the high ceiling. He had her this time he thought. She just doesn't know it yet. Doesn't know that this isn't just a simple homicide. Couldn't even imagine the forces rallying against her and her slick-jack client.
     
     

CHAPTER 14
     
    It was the kind of house that Otter had often fantasized about - tall, angular, acres of glass, winter-white against the trimmed shrubs and trees, and a sweeping stone drive. Like part of a space-age landscape. He had a sense of déjà vu, almost a feeling that he had been here before only under better circumstances.
    Walking from his unmarked sedan, Otter felt the sky press down on him. It was trying to rain again. Fourth day in a row. The omnipresent mist made what hair he had curl up over his ears and wrinkle his collar. He thought of Kozak, his skinny frame lying on an x-ray table, harassing the nurses with obscene jokes. He was away today for some kind of follow-up. Otter missed his stooped-over walk, the mean glint he got in his eye when he was on to somebody.
    Otter looked around the yard and found the grass a little longer than he liked, the flowerbeds in need of weeding. Surely she had a gardener or a company that tended to the yard once a week. Is this what happens when you go into mourning? You neglect the landscaping? He lifted his hand to rap on the front door, hesitated, and then rang the bell. The house was huge. There was every chance she wouldn't hear his knock. Then he was startled by a voice.
    "Can I help you?" The question came from a speaker panel mounted just above the doorbell buzzer. Otter squinted. Was that a camera lens?
    "Detective Otter, Mrs. Ludd? We spoke last week? I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a few more questions."
    "Just give me a moment, Detective."
    A few heartbeats later the door opened and Avril Ludd greeted him with a slight smile that faded almost instantly. She led him into the front foyer. He noticed first that the house smelled of fresh paint and new wood, and that his host looked considerably better than she had the last time they met. And she had impressed him even then. Short dark hair, a sculptured nose, bulky cable knit sweater and tight-fitting blue jeans with embroidered pockets; everything clean, fresh-smelling, like new. When you have that much money do you wear anything twice?
    "Detective Otter. I was just hoping for some company." She held up a blue ceramic mug. "Cappuccino?" 
    "Thank you, no," he answered, unsure of whether he really wanted it or not. He'd never had one before and was certain he couldn't spell it. She led him into a large sunroom off the main kitchen. He sat on the love seat across from her on the sofa.  He commented on her home; she nodded her head, thanked him. She seemed distracted.
    "I have a few more questions, Mrs. Ludd."
    "Not as many as I do, detective," she said softly.
    "Last Wednesday, did your husband call you to say he would be late?"
    She shook her head. "Late?" she asked. "Jeff was a workaholic. Sometimes we would come home at 9:00 or 10:00 in the evening. Lately there were a lot of all nighters. And we did that seven days a week. That's the biotech business. But that was how we met. I worked as a programmer for GeneFab for three years before we were even introduced."
    "Why weren't you working that night?”
    "Wednesdays I play squash. We talked about that."
    “So you never knew... "
    "I knew he wouldn't be home before nine. If he was going to be especially late, he would usually text, unless he got distracted. Which was often. We got into the habit of having a late meal. Then he would watch the news, exercise for an hour...”She stared off into the dripping dogwood beyond the sloping glass of the south wall . "The kind of schedule your wife is probably used to," she added.
    "I was going to say, sounds like cops hours. Did you talk to him on Wednesday at all?"
    She was still staring off into the yard.