Free Justification for Murder by Elin Barnes Page A

really strong. He wasn’t expecting that, and it made him cough.
    “Ah, sorry, I should have warned you,” she said with a smile. “Old habit.”
    “It’s good. The light color threw me off.”
    She closed her eyes and smelled the steaming cup. She had a serene expression, as if the scent had transported her to somewhere far away with good memories.
    “She wanted children and he didn’t. At the end, they were both too smart to realize that neither would change their mind, so they went their separate ways. That was over fifteen years ago.”
    “Did she get along with everybody at work? Did she belong to any clubs or groups? Do you think she had any enemies?”
    Mrs. Hudson looked at him over the rim of the mug. She then focused on the yard and then back at him. “Detective Lynch, I thought my sister died in a car accident. Went over the railing at a curve or something like that. Why are you asking me all of these questions?”
    “We have some reason to believe that somebody tampered with her brakes.”
    Her eyebrows rose. She set the cup down on the tiny table between them. “Why on earth would anybody do that?”
    “That’s what I was hoping you could help me figure out. Can you think of anybody who would want to hurt your sister?”
    “No. But if there was somebody, all they had to do was wait a few months.”
    Darcy looked at her, uncomprehending.
    “She had breast cancer. Terminal.”

CHAPTER 18
    S affron decided she was done crying. Dozens of crumpled Kleenex covered her coffee table, some spilling over onto the floor. She picked them up in a quick, swift motion and threw them into the kitchen garbage can. She blew her nose one more time, avoided looking at herself in the mirror by the door and dialed to return the long-overdue phone call.
    “Detective Lynch, I believe you wanted to talk to me about knives,” she said. Her voice was raspy from all the crying.
    “I’m on my way back to the station. Could you meet me there?”
    “Actually, if it’s not urgent, can we meet tomorrow?” She almost told him she had broken up with Ranjan but figured he wouldn’t care about her personal business.
    “Sure, no problem. Any time in the morning would work.”
    “Okay,” she said and felt the tears come again.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yes, yes. See you tomorrow.” She hung up.
    She called Emma, who promised to be there in less than an hour. Saffron opened a bottle of wine, but before pouring a glass she took a long, hot shower. Her hair was still wet when Emma showed up.
    “Jesus, the taxi service is getting worse by the day in this town,” Emma said as Saffron opened the door. As soon as she saw Saffron’s face, she changed gears. “How are you?” she asked while they hugged.
    “Not so well.”
    Saffron started crying again. Emma stroked her hair and told her everything was going to be okay, as if she were a little girl. After a few minutes, she calmed down and poured two generous glasses of Merlot. They moved to the balcony, and Saffron told her everything that had happened in excruciating detail.
    “Wait, wait. What do you mean somebody tried to kill you? Shouldn’t you be crying about that instead of this douche-bag?”
    Saffron laughed. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “To be honest, I was so worried about Ranjan in the hospital, then so upset about his dick uncle, that I really hadn’t had any time to think about that.”
    “Girl, you better start. What do you think’s going on?”
    “Honestly? I think it’s a misunderstanding. I mean, I’ve got no money, no company secrets, haven’t pissed off anybody that badly…” She took a sip of wine and thought more about other possible options. “There’s just no reason at all why anybody would want to kill me.”
    “And yet he’s tried. Twice.”
    “But now I have—what do they call it in the movies?—my own personal police detail,” she said and smiled, pointing at the car stationed on the other side of the street.
    “I