Part 21 (1/2)

Fallon had spilled the secret about Zippy retiring. Maybe she'd asked for that portion of her interview to not air and Stephanie had refused. They argued, and Fallon killed her. Flimsy, but possible.

My newest suspect, courtesy of MacAvoy, was Hagan Stone. If Stephanie had proof of illegal gambling, he might want to stop her any way he could. That theory had legs.

I wanted to add Lenny to my list. He certainly had the type of temper to off someone. But other than me, Stephanie was the only person who'd taken his claims of cheating seriously. I put him at the bottom of my list.

Of course, this was all before we knew how she'd died. Since MacAvoy had blood on his hand, I guessed she wasn't poisoned.

By the time we reached the crime scene, Malone and his people were already there and had taped off the area. For the second time in as many days, the dog park looked like a scene straight out of a cable police drama. Sans the foul language and naked b.u.t.ts.

”She'd better have your gun.” I looked over my shoulder for Betty, but she'd disappeared again. d.a.m.n.

”Good grief. Where'd Betty go now?” I asked Darby.

She shook her head equally confused. ”I-I don't know. She was behind us a minute ago.”

How was it possible someone as colorful as Betty could slip away unnoticed as often as she had recently?

A small crowd had gathered. A couple of uniformed officers ushered everyone aside to allow the technicians to work uninterrupted.

Malone stepped out of the food truck. He pinned us with his steely blue eyes. I raised my hand in acknowledgment. He'd lost his leather jacket at some point in the day. He wore an average short-sleeved black T-s.h.i.+rt. Somehow, it looked intimidating on him. He moved in our direction with a deliberation that made poor Darby freeze in place.

Her eyes widened. ”Why is he coming here?”

I wondered for a moment if he'd developed his deliberate walk to intimidate people like us or if that was just who he was. Either way, it worked. ”Whatever the reason, answer the questions honestly,” I instructed, never taking my eyes off Malone.

Darby had a history of keeping important information from the police. I hoped she'd learned her lesson. If he wanted to talk to Betty, lying about where she was or wasn't wouldn't help anyone.

He planted a hand on each of our shoulders and led us away from his crime scene and toward the park entrance gate. ”Ladies. What brings you to this end of the dog park?”

I didn't bother beating around the snapdragon bush. ”Is it true? Is it the filmmaker?”

He nodded, his impa.s.sive look gave nothing away.

”Does she have Betty's gun?” I pressed.

”Where is Betty?” He deflected, looking past us.

I felt Darby tense beside me. I s.h.i.+fted, uncomfortable. ”I don't know. She was right behind us, but she slipped away unnoticed. Did the filmmaker have Betty's gun?”

”Yes.”

”Thank goodness,” Darby said with a sigh, her pent-up worry faded with Malone's one word.

”Don't thank anyone yet.” His lips thinned.

My stomach sank. Somehow, I knew what he was about to say. I shook my head. ”Please do not say she was shot.”

He stuffed his hands inside his jean pockets. ”I'm afraid so, Mel.”

That explained the blood on MacAvoy's hand and why he had been as emotional as the mother of the bride on her son's wedding day. He must have touched her.

”With Betty's gun?” Darby asked in a small voice.

”I won't know that for a few days. We have to run some tests. But it's possible.”

”Any sign of Richard's gun?” I grasped for anything that would s.h.i.+ft the investigation away from Betty.

”No.” His voice wasn't clipped, but it wasn't rea.s.suring either.

I rubbed my temples trying to gather my thoughts and push back the throbbing pain threatening to explode from behind my eyes. ”Don't get me wrong, but normally you keep this type of information to yourself. Why tell me now?”

”Since the reporter found her, he'll likely broadcast his findings on the evening news. I've asked him to keep this quiet while we investigate, but . . .” He shrugged.

Just because he asked, didn't mean the reporter would comply, especially a reporter whose top priority was to make a name for himself at a new job. ”Does he know that's Betty's gun?”

Malone shook his head. ”There was no need to tell him about the gun. We found blood under the victim's nails. It's possible she fought with someone.”

I closed my eyes. I felt sick to my stomach. Malone had seen Betty's scratch marks. ”Betty's probably a hundred pounds dripping wet. She'd never win a fight.”

”Which is a motive to shoot the victim.” His calm demeanor did not pacify my anxiety.

”Self-defense?” My voice broke. If I were any sicker, I'd throw up on Malone's black boots. Betty had told anyone who'd listen about her self-defense cla.s.s. Heck, she'd been showing off her moves just yesterday, acting like a martial arts, superhero action figure. For all we knew Stephanie had filmed Betty's exhibition.

Darby reached for my hand and squeezed rea.s.suringly. ”You need to talk to Betty, don't you?” she addressed Malone. I was momentarily impressed with the strength in her voice. Feisty Darby had come out to play.

He ran his palm over his chin. ”Officer Shughart is looking for her. Should you find her first, bring her here. To me. I still have a crime scene to process and other witnesses to talk to.”

He was giving us the opportunity to find my unpredictable a.s.sistant. ”Betty really was with me this time. She didn't do this,” I pressed.

He c.o.c.ked his head to the side and offered me a stony face. ”I don't have an exact time of death yet.”

”But?” I heard it in his voice. He had a timeframe. And I wasn't going to like it one iota.

”The victim was seen alive around nine o'clock this morning. The murder could have occurred anytime between then and two this afternoon. Was Betty with you that entire time?”

I swallowed hard and shook my head.

His jaw tightened. ”Find her. Now.”

I believed in Betty, and, deep down, I knew Judd Malone did too. I wouldn't be me if I didn't remind him there were other suspects. ”We will. Don't forget Gia Eriksen and Fallon Keller also had motive to kill her. And Gia's husband had a gun. After talking with MacAvoy, Hagan Stone had a motive too.”

”I'll keep that in mind.” His dry tone clearly indicated he was more than aware of the particulars and didn't appreciate my two cents. ”Don't make me regret telling you about the case.” He turned and walked away.

”I wouldn't dream of it,” I called out.

He stopped mid-step, faced us, and asked. ”Where is Mrs. Eriksen?”