Free State's Evidence: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller by R. Barri Flowers

obviously gone to the park, but had
not come back.
    They both looked up as Detective Gordon
Chang, a ten-year veteran of the department, came barreling towards
them like an out of control freight train. He was thirty-four, with
short black hair, and a stocky frame.
    “Found something out there,” he said, his
java eyes dilated.
    “Will you excuse us for a moment?” Stone
asked Claudia. Reluctantly, she moved away.
    In a conspiratorial low tone, Chang said,
“Saw what appears to be blood, not far from the lake.”
    In spite of his first instinct, Stone took a
low-key approach to this news. “Maybe it wasn’t blood,” he
suggested. “At least not human blood. It could have belonged to an
animal.” He knew for a fact that there were always dogs running
loose in that park—and some had been hurt through owner neglect or
deliberate actions on the part of others. Even rabbits and deer
managed to find their way through the park in search of food.
    “I doubt this came from an animal,”
Chang said with a sniffle. He removed a plastic bag from his
pocket. There was a piece of aqua fabric in it, about three by
three inches. It appeared to be nylon and its ragged nature
suggested it might have been ripped from a garment. Holding it up,
he said, “This was found near the blood. Looks to me like part of
a—”
    “Running suit,” Stone finished bleakly. He
had one himself with the same texture. Still wasn’t proof that
Adrienne had run into harm’s way. But things were not looking good.
He called Claudia back over to them. “Do you know what color
clothing Adrienne wore when she went running?”
    Claudia scratched her head. “I’m not really
sure—sorry.”
    He showed her the material in the bag. “Does
this look familiar?”
    Claudia’s eyes widened. “It might...” Her
voice dropped. “Do you think it’s from Adrienne’s clothes?”
    Stone tossed her an austere look. “That’s
what we were hoping you could tell us.”
    She was suddenly shaking. “The color looks
right,” she gasped. “But Adrienne has a couple of jogging suits she
likes to wear. Maybe she was wearing the other one—”
    Something tells me she wasn’t . Stone
realized that denial seemed to be the way most people coped with a
possible tragedy. Including cops. Till the facts spoke for
themselves.
    “Thanks for your help,” Stone told the
manager, though unsure just how helpful she’d been. He declared
Adrienne’s cubicle an unofficial crime scene, meaning nothing was
to be removed or touched pending further investigation.
    Outside Stone directed Chang to get a search
team out to comb the park. He also wanted to get the name of every
person who worked in that building; especially those who were at
work yesterday. Maybe someone saw something. Or knew something.
    Or someone.
    Could even be that Adrienne’s disappearance
was directly attributable to another employee in her place of
employ, Stone considered, if a long shot.
    “I think I’ll go pay the husband a little
visit,” he said to Chang. “Maybe Murray will be able to shed more
light on a situation that’s looking dimmer with each passing
moment—”
    * * *
    Stone drove to an old Victorian house on
Rosewood Avenue in Wilameta County. A black extended cab pickup
truck was parked in the driveway.
    Before Stone could get to the porch, the door
opened and Chuck Murray came out. His face was contorted. “Is my
wife dead?” he asked in a slurred voice.
    “We’re not certain—” Stone wondered if his
obvious drinking was in preparation for bad news. Or was it to mask
what he already knew? “Mind if I come in?”
    “Yeah, sure,” Chuck muttered, as if
forgetting his manners.
    The interior of the house was stuffy, but
well kept. Stone noted the simple contemporary furnishings in the
living room. He spied framed pictures of Adrienne and her husband
on the mantel.
    “Can I get you a drink or something?” asked
Chuck, looking flustered and disoriented as he picked up a