Free A Dangerous Widow (A Dangerous Series) by Christina Ross Page B

simplify it, I’d say
it’s about a woman who is eventually murdered for trying to protect the love of
her life.”
    A silence stretched between us after I said
that, thinning the air as if no air existed at all.   The irony wasn’t lost on either of
us.   After all, isn’t that what I
was doing?   Not trying to protect
Michael, but trying to at least uncover the truth about his death and bring him
the justice he deserved.   If he was
murdered and whoever murdered him learned what I was up to, I could become the inconvenient woman.   It was enough to give each of us pause.
    “Anyway,” I said in an effort to break the
tension.   “I assume you have the
police report now.   Have you learned
anything from it?”
    “A bit.   Bill Witherhouse was home when Lydia died.”
    That surprised me.   “He was home?   But Bill’s a senior VP at Chase—I
checked the Internet after we spoke this morning.   I know the banking industry, Ben, and
that’s the sort of job you don’t leave until seven or eight at night.   Lydia died in the afternoon, didn’t
she?”
    “Two-thirty, to be precise.”
    “Why was Bill home then?   Why wasn’t he at work?   Was he sick?”
    “I’ll read you what he said to the officer
who first responded to his 911 call, which will answer your questions.   Then, you can tell me if his answers
satisfy you.”
    “All right…”
    “Here’s his retelling of the events,” Ben
said.   “Straight from the police
report.   You’ll hear the interchange
between him and the first officer on scene.   There will be a give and take as she
asks him questions.   Ready to go?”
    “I’m ready.”
    “By the way, the person questioning him is
Officer Brenda Marsh, who I know.   She’s been on the force for over fifteen years.   And she’s outstanding.   So, here goes.”
    He launched into the Q&A Officer Marsh
had had with Bill Witherhouse.
    “‘When did you find the deceased, Mr.
Witherhouse?’”
    “‘I had just returned home and entered my
office when I heard something heavy hit the floor downstairs.   I called out to Lydia, but she didn’t
answer.   So, I went to investigate,
and found her on her back and unresponsive on the kitchen floor.   She’d been cleaning it.   There was a bucket next to her—you
can see it right there.   I checked
her pulse, felt nothing, and immediately called 911.   The person who answered walked me
through how to perform CPR, which I did to the best of my ability while they
sent for an ambulance.   Unfortunately,
I failed.   I’m so sorry that I
failed.   I’m devastated that I
couldn’t help her.   Save her.   Lydia was a mainstay in this house.   She’s worked with us for over eight
years.   She kept this place running,
for God’s sake.   She was family.’”
    “‘Do you happen to know how old she is?   She appears to be young.’”
    “‘She is young.   I don’t know—maybe
mid-forties?   Something like
that.   She has two children and a
husband.   How could this have
happened?   What am I supposed to say
to her children and husband now?’”
    “‘Nothing—we’ll take care of that, Mr.
Witherhouse.   As for how this
happened, that’s what we’re here to find out.   Do you know if she had any
health-related issues?’”
    “‘I don’t.   Lydia was a powerhouse.   I can’t imagine that anything was wrong
with her.   None of this makes
sense.   I can’t believe that I’m
seeing her like this.   When I came
home from work, she was all smiles as usual, busy washing the kitchen floor.’”
    “‘And why did you come home?’”
    “‘To retrieve a file I was working on last
night.   I thought that I’d brought
it with me this morning, but I hadn’t.   I’m stunned that this has happened.’”
    “‘She died only moments after you entered
the house?’”
    “‘Apparently, yes.’”
    “‘That’s interesting timing.’”
    “‘I—what are you insinuating?’”
    “‘It was just an