Free Blood Rubies by Jane K. Cleland Page B

accident.”
    â€œThat’s ruled out. That’s my shockeroonie. According to the ME’s preliminary report, Jason died from blunt force trauma consistent with hitting his head on the fieldstone rock hearth, but here’s the kicker. They’re keeping it all hush-hush, but the ME used an imaging gizmo to prove there were multiple blows.”
    I tried to push away the gruesome memory of my fingers prodding the wound, but couldn’t. I could feel Wes waiting for my reaction.
    â€œYou’re not surprised,” he said. “How come?”
    I swallowed hard. “I felt the back of Jason’s head to assess the wound, you know, to see if I could do something to stop the bleeding. Oh, God, Wes. I couldn’t do a thing.” I gulped and choked and coughed as a wave of nausea washed over me. “There was a dent in his skull, closer to a gully, actually. It was horrific—really, really awful.”
    He pulled a small spiral-bound notebook from his pants pocket and used his index finger to push out a pen he’d stuffed through the wires. Before Maggie, he carried a single ratty piece of paper and a pencil stub. He jotted a note. “Gully … good one, Joz!”
    â€œGod, Wes! You’re incredible—not in a good way. Don’t even think about quoting me.”
    His eyes opened wide. “What are you talking about? ‘Gully’ is a great word.”
    â€œFeel free to use it. Just don’t attribute it to me. Same deal as always, Wes.”
    He sighed, Wesian for disappointed. I kept my eyes on the horizon and waited for him to speak.
    â€œAll right,” he said, drawing out the words petulantly, as if he were making a huge concession.
    â€œHow about Ana’s neighbors?” I asked. “Did anyone see anything?”
    â€œNot from the initial canvass,” he said, back to normal. “Lots of the cottages on that stretch of ocean are summer homes, and those folks aren’t here yet. All the natives were at work or shopping or whatever.”
    â€œWhat happened to the check Jason was bringing Ana?”
    â€œThe police found it in his shirt pocket. My source says you’re going to look at the shattered thing, whatever it is, as soon as the forensic team is done with it. Take photos for me.”
    â€œIf I can.”
    â€œJosie! I need a little quid for my pro quo, if you get my drift.”
    I patted his arm. “You know I always tell you everything as soon as I can.”
    â€œI know you say you do.”
    â€œWes!”
    â€œGive me something, Josie. I need something. I’m on deadline.”
    â€œI already did—the word ‘gully.’ What else do you have?”
    â€œNothing yet. There’s a boatload of people in town for the wedding. The police are checking whether any of them had an issue with Jason. So far, nothing has come to light.”
    â€œNot even with Peter?”
    â€œWho’s he?”
    I explained his relationship to Jason and described Peter’s outburst at the police station.
    â€œThis might be something.” He wrote in his notebook for a few seconds. “I’ll check him out. Who else?”
    â€œNo one. Jason’s death screws up the TV pilot. How can they use a tape of wedding plans when the groom is killed only days before the ceremony? That means no one with a vested interest in the show has a motive. Like Ana.”
    â€œUnless her motive is unrelated to the show.”
    â€œTrue, but it would take a heck of a motive to risk losing an opportunity like this—her own TV show. What about Heather? Is there anything there?”
    â€œ Cherchez la femme —good one, Joz! Why would she want him dead?”
    â€œI can’t imagine. She was about to marry him.”
    â€œDid you ever see them together?”
    Jason’s preoccupation with business and his gratuitous talk about choosing a honeymoon site based on its perceived prestige wouldn’t