Free Touch of Evil by Colleen Thompson Page A

Justine only watched expectantly, but he could swear he heard the whir of gears behind her pale face. He saw pain there, too, in the tightness of her jaw, the careful arrangement of her features.
    Was it only physical, or was his presence getting to her, as hers was to him?
    “Sometimes a determined suicide only has to loop the belt or rope or what have you around his neck and lean forward against it.” Ross gentled his voice, as if that alone could blunt the edges of his harsh words. “He uses his body weight to do the work of strangulation.”
    “But Mr. Willets was found…” Justine looked at Laney. “You’re sure you want to hear this?”
    Laney nodded tightly. “I owe Jake that much.”
    “The rope was tied to the base of a big live oak,” Justine continued. “A noose—an old-fashioned noose tied with a hangman’s knot—was apparently thrown over a thick branch about ten feet off the ground. There was a fallen tree, quite a large one, and we surmised that Mr. Willets stood on the trunk, then placed the noose around his neck and stepped off.” Justine ignored Ross’s shaking head. “Cause of death, according to the medical examiner, was cardiac arrest due to some kind of nerve reflex.”
    “Vagal inhibition.” Ross looked at his cousin. “That means death was virtually instantaneous. He didn’t feel it, Laney. He didn’t suffer.”
    “Thank God for that, at least.” She closed her eyes as if in prayer.
    Across from her, Justine looked more disturbed than ever, her gaze unfocused and unblinking. Her face went even paler than before.
    “Are you feeling all right?” Ross asked her, thinking this conversation might have been wasted on a woman so obviously in need of rest. “I can get a deputy.”
    “No,” she snapped. “It’s not that. I was just thinking of the crime scene. But I’m afraid I’m mixing up the three—I’m not at my best this morning. So I’ll want to go back and take a look at the notes and photos, everything we have.”
    “So you believe me?” Laney sounded hopeful. “You’re thinking this was murder?”
    The sheriff rose, but slowly. “I’m thinking all three hangings deserve a second look,” she said, before focusing a sharp glance on Laney. “But if I find out you set up that ‘break-in’ last night to manipulate us—”
    “Laney didn’t.” Ross stood, too, interposing himself between his cousin and his former lover. “She wouldn’t. I’mtelling you, I heard the back door close when I came in. And then she was right there behind me a few seconds later.”
    Justine arched a dark brow, her skepticism clear. “You know what’s interesting about that?”
    “What?” Ross asked, his breath catching at her satisfied expression.
    “If one door’s been left ajar, it’s sometimes sucked closed when a second exterior door is opened.” Justine took a step so she could make eye contact with Laney. “Deputy Savoy found that to be the case when he tried it at the residence. And you know what else he and the other deputy found there?”
    Rather than answering, Laney looked down at her own knuckles, which had gone white where she gripped the table.
    Justine flashed a mirthless smile. “No prints on the kitchen chair or on the back door. Excepting yours, that is.”
    Laney glared up at her, her expression shimmering with emotion. “I’ve had enough of this suspicion, first from Deputy Savoy, and now you. You don’t think anyone smart enough to put three murders past your department is smart enough to wear a pair of gloves?”
    “Well, there’s another triumph of community relations to mark down on the department scorecard,” Justine grumbled as she peered through the blinds. In the parking lot beyond her office, Ross Bollinger was opening the door of a bright red, classic sixties-model Mustang convertible for his cousin.
    Seated behind her desk, her father gave a dry chuff of amusement and looked up from the file he’d been perusing. “I kind of miss