Free The Trophy Exchange by Diane Fanning Page A

they saw her, she was in mid-flight after launching into a flying tackle aimed at Vivienne ’ s body. Both women slammed into the ground. Frances straddled Vivienne not caring that her position forced her skirt high up onto her hips revealing a lack of underwear beneath her pantyhose. Frances grabbed a hank of her hair in each hand and pounded Vivienne ’ s head into the ground. “ You lying bitch, ” she screamed.
    The patrolman plucked Frances off Vivienne. Frances squirmed in his arms with strands of Vivienne ’ s hair still clutched in her hands. Lucinda helped Vivienne to her feet. As soon as Vivienne was standing, Frances lunged at her again but the patrolman held her tight.
    “ Cuff her, ” Lucinda ordered, “ and stick her in the back of your car until she calms down. ”
    The officer complied with a grin. Lucinda escorted Vivienne to her car. Once they were both inside, Lucinda said, “ You ’ re the mother-in-law of the deceased – correct? ”
    “ Unfortunately, yes, I am. I don ’ t know how my daughter was stupid enough to marry that sorry son of a bitch. ”
    Lucinda ’ s eyebrows raised as her internal radar noted that she used the same words as those written on the note beside the body. “ Your full name, please. ”
    “ Vivienne Carr. ”
    “ You said you had evidence? ”
    “ Yeah, ” she said, handing an envelope to Lucinda. “ Not evidence of the murder but evidence of what he did to deserve it. ”
    Lucinda slid the pack of photographs out of the envelope and flipped through an array of shots displaying blackened eyes, busted lips, bruised arms, taped ribs. “ Are these all shots of your daughter, Ms. Carr? ”
    “Yes, y es they are. That sorry son of a bitch used her for a punching bag. I told her she needed to leave him before he killed her. But she kept telling me that he ’ d kill her if she left. ”
    “ Did your daughter call you and ask you to come over here? ”
    “ No. That crazy woman called me up and told me my daughter killed her boy. I told her it was about time. ”
    “Ms. Carr, do you think your daughter killed Terry Wagner? ”
    “ I ’ m not saying that. I don ’ t know. I ’ m just saying if she did, it was self-defense. He deserved to die. ”
    “Ms. Carr, where is your daughter now? ”
    “ I don ’ t know. ”
    Lucinda stared at her without saying a word.
    “ Honest to God. I don ’ t know where she ’ s at. I wish I did. She must be scared to death. ”
    Lucinda pressured Vivienne about her daughter ’ s whereabouts for a little longer without getting anywhere. She did get Vivienne ’ s solemn commitment to stay away from Frances and not to contact her by phone, email or snail mail. Lucinda then went to the patrol car and got the same promises from Frances before sending both women on their way.

 
    Twelve
     
    When Lucinda got back to the station, she issued an all points bulletin on Julie Wagner. With that chore out of the way, she set the Wagner case aside and moved her attention back to the more puzzling Spencer murder. She worked her way through the stack until the print blurred in front of her. Then, she stopped for the day and headed home.
    She pushed open her apartment door and received a warm welcome from Chester. The thought of food animated him to an extreme, and at this moment, it was obvious that tuna was on his mind. He wove between Lucinda ’ s legs at manic speed , threatening to trip her up as she walked through the small foyer. The fear of falling over him or stepping on his tail had diminished with time and therapy but it was still a problem. She scooped him up to avert disaster and headed into her small galley kitchen.
    After feeding Chester, she got busy slapping together her own sustenance. She laid a slice of muenster cheese on a piece of bread and slid it into the toaster oven. While the cheese melted, she pulled out a container of sliced turkey and poured a glass of white M erlot. She slapped a couple of slices of the