Free Organized to Death by Jan Christensen Page B

bedroom.
    John followed, talking as they went. “Don’t touch it. Just show me where it is. We’ll test it for fingerprints as well as ballistics.”
    A chill ran through her. Could someone have taken her gun and used it on Crystal?
    Her lips felt numb, and when they entered her bedroom, she merely pointed to the wicker nightstand’s drawer.
    John opened the drawer. The spot where she kept the gun was empty.

CHAPTER 12
    Tina and John stood staring at the empty drawer. “You sure you put the gun in this one?” John asked. He opened the one beneath it. No gun.
    He turned to look at her. The blood drained from her face and she felt faint. She plunked herself down on the bed. “Someone took it,” she said. But she knew the only people who would ever come into her bedroom were her mother and the maid. Perhaps Uncle Bob, but she couldn’t think why he would.
    And, of course, Hank. He thought it amusing to climb up the old, sturdily-built trellis and onto her tiny balcony to surprise her. Boy, was she surprised right now.
    “Mind if I search the rest of the room?” John asked.
    “Go right ahead.” She prayed he’d find it. Damn Hank. She’d always thought guns were more trouble than they were worth. Here was the proof.
    John was surprisingly neat as he started going through each of her drawers and her closet. After about ten minutes, Lisbeth appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” she asked.
    “Gun’s missing,” John muttered from inside the closet. “I’m searching for it. With Ms. Shaw’s permission, of course.”
    Lisbeth nodded and gave Tina a long, searching look. Tina didn’t know whether to stare back defiantly or to cower in a corner. Cowering seemed more appealing right now.
    While Lisbeth joined the search, Tina looked at the room with a critical eye for the first time in years. She still liked it, although there were some girlish touches she might want to get rid of later, like the stuffed giraffe and the children’s books in the small bookcase next to the window. Her mother, Uncle Bob, and Princess showed up. The humans hovered in the doorway, alternatively watching the police officers and looking at Tina. She couldn’t quite read their expressions. Princess sat quietly next to Uncle Bob.
    John came out of the closet without the gun, and Lisbeth straightened up from looking under the bed.
    “You have a dog,” John said. He looked nervous, and his small chin quivered.
    “It’s my Uncle Bob’s hearing dog.”
    “Hearing dog? What the hell is that?” He seemed more annoyed than Tina thought he should be. But she remembered he hadn’t known what a professional organizer was, either. Perhaps he didn’t like not knowing things.
    Tina explained what the dog did. Both officers seemed interested, and Lisbeth bent to pet Princess. Uncle Bob didn’t say anything. Usually he’d tell people not to do that when Princess was working. John kept his distance.
    “Well,” John said. “The gun’s not here. You want to take a guess where it might have disappeared to, Ms. Shaw?”
    “I haven’t any idea. I guess someone must have stolen it.”
    “And they got in without anyone knowing, including this dog?” He stood deep within the room, occasionally glancing at Princess.
    “If Uncle Bob was out … “
    “They knew where the gun was, and disturbed nothing.”
    He was relentless, probably covering up his unease, Tina thought. She remained quiet.
    “It’s an obvious place to keep it,” Laura said. “Anyone who knew Tina owned a gun could have guessed where she’d keep it.”
    “But you, her mother, didn’t know she had a gun, did you? How many people knew, Ms. Shaw?”
    All Tina could do was shake her head.
    “Is she a suspect?” Uncle Bob asked suddenly. “If so, she needs a lawyer. Laura, go call Brandon.”
    “Not Brandon,” Tina said.
    Her mother and uncle stared at her. “Why not?”
    She wasn’t sure. She knew she didn’t want to be beholden to him. She didn’t want