“Get her out of here!” Peter shouted the moment he saw Mavis
running toward him. This was getting completely out of hand. Not only was the
crime scene becoming more and more compromised with every passing moment, he
was also afraid of what might pop out of his lover’s mouth when she saw her
husband’s body lying on the floor and Peter standing next to it.
Several arms reached for Mavis and pulled her back. “Clear
this room! Everyone get out NOW!”
“Peter, what happened?” Mavis wailed at him. “Is that really
Ron? Tell me what’s going on?” Mavis looked at him over the shoulder of one of
the other guests, her kohl-rimmed eyes beseeching. Either she was one hell of
an actress or she was going into shock. Peter tried to silently convey to Mavis
that he’d see her later, that he’d talk to her privately as soon as he could.
He also tried to send her a mental telepathy message to keep her mouth shut until her lawyer appeared but he was pretty
doubtful that it had gone through. Somehow he didn’t think Mavis’s current mental
state was too open to any ESP messages.
Slowly the room emptied as the police officers remembered
their duties and what was supposed to happen when someone was murdered. Peter
noticed that Mindy Cooper was still standing in one corner doing her best to be
invisible. Crap. “That goes for you too, Ms. Cooper.”
“I’m here representing the press,” Mindy reminded him. “I
have a right to stay.”
“Not on my watch,” Peter responded. The press. Man, oh, man,
this story was going to go a lot farther than the Schuyler Square Times. Ron Schuyler was loaded and he’d been
murdered. Peter was sure that an event like that was going to earn them at
least a phone call from the Chicago Tribune.
“Come on, Officer Van Husen,” Mindy said, flashing him a
winsome smile, “give me something. How about a statement? You knew the victim
fairly well, didn’t you? Of course, not as well as you knew his wife.”
Peter stared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mindy shook her head innocently. “You two worked together so
closely on pulling this event together. Perhaps you worked with Ron Schuyler
too?”
“No, I did not,” Peter snapped.
“There’s a rumor going around town that the Schuylers were
headed for divorce court. Care to comment on that?”
Wow. It took more brass to be a journalist than a cop. Peter
met Mindy’s stare and refused to look away. She held his gaze and for several
long seconds neither of them spoke. Finally, Peter broke both the staring
contest and the silence. “I hardly think that’s an appropriate question at this
time.”
“On the contrary,” Mindy responded, “I think it’s highly
appropriate. If Ron Schuyler was murdered by someone he knew—and aren’t most
murder victims killed by someone they knew? Then the first person you’re going
to be looking at is his wife, right?”
“Get the hell out of here,” Peter said through clenched
teeth.
“My, my,” Mindy said as she scribbled in the tiny notebook
she was holding. “Kind of touchy, aren’t we? What’s up with that, Officer Van
Husen? Do you have something to hide too?”
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