Free Cold Justice by Rayven T. Hill Page B

she was showing
tendencies to be delusional and paranoid. Another talk with him might be a good
idea.” He shrugged, and added, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt, anyway.”
    Annie was browsing the forensics report. She looked up. “We
don’t have much else at this point. We can talk to any friends or acquaintances
she may have as well. If Mrs. Macy was murdered, as we suspect, then it was by
someone she knew. I think she let him into the house.”
    “So,” Jake said, “we need to get a list of everyone she
knew. One of them is likely her killer.”
    “What’s the motive?” Hank asked.
    “She witnessed a murder,” Annie said. “I believe he thinks
she could identify him, and he had to eliminate her as a precaution.”
    “So find out who was murdered. If there was truly a murder.
And then you have your suspect,” Hank said.
    “That’s our best bet,” Annie said.
    “I have a problem with the pills,” Jake said. “How did he,
or she, get her to down all those pills?”
    “Perhaps she was drunk, and then he forced them down her
throat,” Annie said.
    “Or, dissolved them in her drink,” Jake said, and then looked
at Hank. “Do any of those reports say whether or not there was anything in the
glass? Any residue of Lorazepam?”
    Hank shook his head. “There was no residue in the glass. She
had to have taken them directly in pill form.”
    “Or in the coffee,” Annie added.
    Hank agreed. “Perhaps.”
    “Funny thing is though,” Annie said. “There were no dirty
cups.”
    Jake shrugged. “She washed up.”
    Annie nodded slowly. “Maybe, but then why didn’t she wash up
the coffee pot. She would have dumped out the rest of the pot. She didn’t drink
much coffee and likely had no plans to have another cup.” She paused, and
added, “And I believe the killer is a he, not a she. Remember, Abigail Macy
said it was a man she saw killing a woman.”
    “Yeah, good point,” Jake said.
    Annie glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “So, we need
to see Hoffman this morning. He said he could allow us a few minutes. And then,
we need to find out who Mrs. Macy saw being killed.”
    “Good luck guys. I gotta run,” Hank said as he stood and
picked up his valise. “You can keep those reports. They’re just copies.” He
turned to leave.

“Oh, Hank,” Annie stood and asked, “Can you get me any
reports of missing persons from Sunday night on?”
    “Sure,” Hank said. “I’ll see what I can come up with.” He
waved over his shoulder as he left, and said, “Thanks for the coffee.”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 15
     
     
     
    Thursday, August 18th, 9:50 AM
     
    THE SUN WAS blinking in and out from behind inky clouds. A
few drops of rain were already splashing onto the windshield of the Ford Escort
as Jake and Annie climbed inside. Thunder smacked a few miles away, rumbling
through the air, promising to bring more rain. It boomed again, this time
closer.
    Annie tossed her handbag and umbrella into the back seat,
fastened her seatbelt, and turned the key. The engine spun and came alive.
    She glared up at the sky and touched the wiper control,
slipping it into intermittent. It squeaked across the glass and settled again
into place.
    Jake’s machine was parked in the garage, safely out of the
way of the rain that had been threatened that morning. It wasn’t used to seeing
rain. Annie’s car was. Jake wanted to keep it that way.
    Annie looked over. “Fasten your seatbelt,” she said.
    Jake could never get used to wearing seat belts. They didn’t
seem safe to him. All tied in like that. Hard to control a vehicle when you can’t
move around. Nonetheless, he wasn’t driving, so he snapped his belt on, and
powered down his window. Not enough rain yet to worry about a few drops. He
stuck his elbow out, and settled back.
    Annie tugged on the shifter and touched the gas pedal. She
drove carefully from the driveway, down the street and took a left turn.
    Traffic was thin. Usually was this time of day. Most