Free A Real Basket Case by Beth Groundwater Page B

Claire said, “His lawyer.”
    He nodded and asked for Kessler’s address and phone number. After writing those down, he leaned back in his chair and peered at Claire. “Now, what can I do for you?”
    With Roger’s rejection of her, convincing the police that someone was out to frame him became even more important. If she got them to drop the charges, maybe Roger would talk to her. Maybe she could convince him to return home. She licked her lips and groped for the right words.
    “Roger said he got a message at work yesterday that I called and needed him to come home. But I didn’t call him. When I talked to his receptionist today, she said she had assumed it was me, because the caller said so, but the caller spoke with a Hispanic accent.”
    Wilson shrugged. “Someone who knew about your liaison with Romero wanted your husband to find out. Doesn’t matter much who, because I’ve got to tell you, Mrs. Hanover, it still places your husband at the scene with the murder weapon in his hand.”
    He plucked a piece of paper off one of the piles on his desk. “ The lab sent a fingerprint report this morning. Only Mr. Romero’s and your husband’s fingerprints are on the gun. Your husband’s were on top. And he had GSR on his hand.”
    “What’s GSR?”
    “Sorry. Gunshot residue. Shows the gun was in his hand when it was fired.”
    Claire fought to suppress her rising panic that the detective already had his mind made up. What happened to being innocent until proven guilty? “But I told you. When I screamed, Roger jumped and fired the gun by mistake.”
    “There’s no way to prove whether he fired the gun once or twice. We only know he did fire it. Tell me about the gun. A nine-millimeter semiautomatic is not your typical household-protection handgun. How long have you owned it?”
    Confused, she said, “Owned it? Do you mean the gun Roger held in his hands?”
    Wilson peered at her. “Ye-es.”
    “We don’t own a gun. I won’t allow them in the house. I’ve never seen it before. Roger said he never saw the gun before, either.”
    “Where’d he get it?”
    “He said he found it lying on the hall floor.”
    Wilson pursed his lips. “Told me the same story.”
    Claire’s eyes narrowed. Was the detective trying to trip her up? Did he think she planned this murder with Roger? “Then why did you ask me?”
    “Thought he might tell you something different.” Wilson made a note. “I’ll have the gun traced. Anything else?”
    Claire grabbed another tissue and dabbed at her nose to give herself time to think. Detective Wilson seemed uninterested in what she had told him so far, except for trying to catch Roger in a lie through her. She suspected he wouldn’t show much interest in what she had to say next either, but she had to try. “Roger said he didn’t do it. Didn’t shoot Enrique.”
    Wilson raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe him?”
    She couldn’t lie, much as she wanted to. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think I’d know if he were lying to me. He sounded so certain.”
    “Most of the people we lock up claim they didn’t commit the crime they’re accused of. Maybe some can’t even admit to themselves that they’re capable of committing a crime. Later, many of them admit their guilt. But the others . . .” He shook his head. “The prisons are crammed with guys who still claim they’re innocent after they’ve been tried and convicted.”
    He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the desk. “I also have the ballistics results. The bullet that killed Enrique Romero came from that gun. You saw the gun in your husband’s hand, and, as I told you, only his fingerprints and Romero’s are on it. This is a cut-and-dried case.”
    A whirlpool of panic sucked at Claire’s feet. A cut-and-dried case? No, it couldn’t be. Not when there were still unanswered questions. “But what about the gun? Where did it come from? Aren’t you supposed to tie up all the loose ends in a