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

glass
and took a sip.
    “No thanks. Can’t drink on duty.” Stone gazed
into his bloodshot eyes. “Besides, looks as if you’ve already had
enough for the both of us.”
    Chuck made no attempts to deny it. “Can you
blame me, man?” His mouth hung open like it was being pulled down.
“The woman I love is missing...probably dead and buried—”
    Having never experienced the feeling of his
own wife missing, Stone knew he couldn’t exactly relate. Yet he
could relate to some degree as a detective who had been there, done
that, with unfortunate results. His concern here was that Chuck
Murray was acting more like a man who knew his wife was not coming
back, rather than hoped she would. Why was that?
    “I guess I can understand why you might feel
the need to get drunk,” Stone said, hoping it might keep the man
talking.
    “It’s helping me cope,” said Chuck, licking
his lips. “You know?”
    Not really, but maybe you’ll enlighten
me . Stone casually walked to the mantel and lifted an eleven by
fourteen photograph of Adrienne Murray. “You take this?”
    “Yeah.” Chuck was boastful. “I like to take
pictures in my spare time. Call it a hobby.”
    Not a bad hobby, Stone had to admit. Taken
fairly recently, Adrienne was all smiles and teeth and seemingly
happy. He wondered how often Chuck had photographed his wife. And
under what circumstances? He put the picture back and faced the
husband.
    “So what did you find out?” Chuck asked
nervously.
    Stone approached him. “Well, for one, your
wife did go jogging after work...” he began sorrowfully, “and
apparently never came back to pick up her car—”
    Chuck buried large hands in his face, as if
sensing the worst. “I knew I shouldn’t have allowed her to run in
that damned park! Especially at night with all those winos and gang
bangers hanging out there.”
    Stone peered at him. “Do you know what color
running suit your wife brought to work to wear when she went
jogging?”
    “I think it was blue-green,” he said
matter-of-factly. “I bought that one for Adrienne myself. Why?”
    Stone took out the plastic bag with the torn
fabric in it. “Does this look like the material from her
jacket?”
    Chuck studied the fabric for only an instant
before squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes—” he groaned. “That looks
exactly like a piece of her running suit.”
    Stone feared he would say that and probably
with good reason. But at this point, he still wasn’t sure if they
were dealing with a dead wife or not. And, if so, was her death a
homicide? Suicide? Accident? Maybe the husband knows more about
the circumstances of her disappearance than he was letting
on .
    “Why don’t we wait until it’s confirmed
before we jump to any of the wrong conclusions,” Stone suggested.
Unfortunately, he had already reached some probable conclusions,
and they weren’t very pretty.
    Chuck ran a hand through his hair, as if
searching for something. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “She has to
be okay. I don’t even want to think about life without
Adrienne...”
    You just might have to . “I could use
your help, Chuck,” Stone said gingerly, “trying to find your
wife.”
    “I’ll do whatever you need me to,” he
promised.
    “Was Adrienne wearing any jewelry when she
went to work yesterday—including a watch or rings?”
    Chuck tasted more of his drink. “My wife
wasn’t much for jewelry. Thought it was too showy. Except for her
wedding and engagements rings,” he said almost as an afterthought.
“She never took them off. Wore a watch every day, too. One of them
two-tone Seikos—” He walked to the mantel and lifted a photograph.
It was a close-up of Adrienne, posing with her hands under her
chin. Her rings and watch were clearly visible. He extended his arm
towards Stone. “Take it.”
    Stone took him up on the offer, saying, “I’ll
bring it back.” He studied the picture of Adrienne Murray, honestly
hoping she was still alive. But he knew that