Fortune's Woman / A Fortune Wedding: Fortune's Woman

“I told you, Jim,” Ross said. “I was talking to Ms. Osterman just a row over when we heard a scream. We were the first ones on the scene, weren’t we? Besides the other woman.”

Julie nodded.

“You’re the one who called 911, right?” the police chief asked her.

“Yes. But your officers were on the scene before I could even give the dispatcher any information. Probably only a moment or two after we arrived,” she said.

The police chief wrote something in a notebook. “Can you confirm the scene as you saw it? Lloyd was on the ground and Frannie was standing over him.”

“Yes.” She pointed. “And the other woman—Crystal—was standing over there screaming.”

“You didn’t see anyone else? Just Frannie and Crystal?”

Julie nodded. “That’s right. Just them.”

“Frannie? You want to tell me what happened before Ross and Ms. Osterman showed up?”

She lifted her shell-shocked gaze from her blood-stained pants to the police chief. “I don’t know. I was looking for…I just…I found him that way. He was just lying there.”

“Tell him, Frannie,” Ross insisted. “Go ahead and tell Jim you had nothing to do with Lloyd’s death.”

“I…I didn’t.”

Jimmy scratched the nape of his neck. “That’s not a very convincing claim of innocence, Frannie. Especially when you’re the one standing here over your dead husband’s body with blood on your hands.”

Ross glared at him. “Frannie is not capable of murder. You have to know that. You’re crazy if you think she could have done this.”

The police chief raised a dark eyebrow that contrasted with his salt-and-pepper hair. “This might not be the best time for you to be calling names, Fortune.”

“What else would you call it? My sister did not kill her husband, though she should have done it years ago.”

“Appears to be no love lost between the two of you, was there?”

“I hated his miserable, two-timing guts.”

“Maybe you need to be the one coming down to the station for questions instead of Frannie here.”

“I’ll go any place you want me to. But I didn’t kill him any more than my sister did. I’ve got an alibi, remember? Ms. Osterman here.”

“He’s right. He was with me,” she said.

“Lucky for you. Unfortunately, by the sound of it, Frannie doesn’t have that kind of alibi. I’m going to have to ask you to come with me to the station to answer some questions, Frannie.”

“Come on, Jimmy. You know she couldn’t have done this.”

“You want to know what I know? The evidence in front of me. That’s it. That’s what I have to go by, no matter what. You were a cop. You know that. And I’m also quite sure this is going to be a powder keg of a case. I can’t afford to let people say I allowed the Fortunes to push me around. I have to follow every procedure to the letter, which means I’m going to have to take her in for questioning. I have no choice here.”

Ross glowered at the man but before he could say anything, another officer approached them. He was vibrating with energy. Julie imagined in a quiet town like Red Rock, this sort of situation was the most excitement the small police force ever saw.

“We found what might be the murder weapon, sir,” the fresh-faced officer said. “I knew you would want to know right away.”

“Thanks, Paul,” the chief tried to cut him off before he said more, but the officer didn’t take the hint.

“It was shoved under a display table in one of the tents and it’s got what appears to be blood on it. I’ll have CSU process it the minute they show up. Take a look. What do you think, sir?”

All of them followed the man’s pointing finger and Julie could see a large, solid-looking ceramic vase. When she turned back, she saw that Frannie Fredericks had turned even more pale, if that was possible.

“What’s the matter?” Ross asked her.

She shook her head and looked back at her blood-stained slacks.

“Do you know anything about that vase?” Jimmy Caldwell asked her, his gray eyes intent on her features.

When Ross’s sister clamped her lips together, the police chief leaned in closer. “You have to tell me, Frannie.”

She suddenly looked trapped, her gaze flitting between Jimmy Caldwell and her brother.

“Fran?” Ross asked.

“It’s mine. I bought it from Reynaldo Velasquez,” she finally whispered. “I wanted to put it in the upstairs hallway.”

Ross muttered an expletive. “Don’t say anything else, Frannie. Not until I get you an attorney. Just keep your mouth shut, okay?”

She blinked at her brother. “Why do I need an attorney? I didn’t do anything wrong. I just bought a vase.”

“Just don’t say anything.”

“In that case,” the police chief said, “I guess we’ll have to continue this conversation at the police station.”

“You don’t have nearly enough to arrest her. You know you don’t.”

“Not yet.” The police chief’s voice was grim.

“Josh. You have to find Josh,” Frannie said suddenly. She clutched her brother’s arm. “Find him, Ross. Get him away from here.”

He looked taken aback by her urgency. “I’ll look for him.”

“Thank you, Ross. You’ve always taken care of everything.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut again.

“Let’s go, Frannie,” the police chief’s voice wasn’t unkind. “I’m sure it will be a relief to you to get away from this crowd.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

The police chief slipped a huge navy windbreaker over her blood-stained clothing, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. By all appearances, it looked as if he were consoling the grieving widow but Julie saw the implacable set to his muscles, as if he expected the slight woman to make a break for it any moment.

Ross watched after them, his jaw tight. “This is a fricking nightmare,” he growled. “Unbelievable.”