Ricochet by Sandra Brown Page B

the front door. From there he could see that a larger crowd of gawkers had gathered on the far side of the median. More news vans were parked along the street.
    The flowers in the vase on the foyer table shimmied, alerting him to Sally Beale’s approach. “I had her go through it all again,” she said to Duncan, speaking in an undertone. “Didn’t falter. Didn’t change a word. She’s ready to sign a statement.”
    He surveyed the divided street, trying to imagine it prior to becoming a crime scene. Without the flashing emergency lights and the onlookers, it would be serene.
    “Sally, you were first on the scene, right?”
    “Me and Crofton were only a couple blocks away when we got the call from dispatch.”
    “Did you see any moving vehicles in the area?”
    “Nary a one.”
    “Abandoned car?”
    “Not even a moped, and other patrol units have been canvassing the whole neighborhood looking for the perp’s means of transportation. Nothing’s turned up.”
    Puzzling. Something out of whack that demanded an explanation. “Are the neighbors being canvassed?”
    “Two teams are going door-to-door. So far, everybody was fast asleep, saw no one, heard nothing.”
    “Not even the shots?” He turned to face the policewoman, who was shrugging.
    “Big houses, big yards.”
    “Mrs. Laird showered?”
    “Said she felt violated,” Beale said. “Asked would it be okay.”
    It was a typical reaction for people to want to wash after their home was invaded, but Duncan didn’t like it when a bloody corpse was just downstairs. “Did she have blood on her?”
    “No, and I was with her the whole time upstairs. All she had on was her robe. I got it from her, gave it to Baker. No blood on it that I saw. But the judge, the hem of his robe had blood on it from when he checked the body. He asked permission to dress. Baker’s got his robe, too.”
    “Okay, thanks, Sally. Keep them separate till we’re ready to question them.”
    “You got it.”
    He returned to the study, where DeeDee was examining the judge’s desk. “All these drawers are still locked.”
    “Mrs. Laird must have caught the burglar early.”
    She raised her head and gave him an arch look. “You believe the burglar scenario?”
    “I believe it’s time we asked just how this went down.”

Chapter 4

    “W HO FIRST, HER OR THE JUDGE?”
    Duncan thought about it. “Let’s talk to them together.”
    DeeDee registered surprise as well as a trace of disapproval. “How come?”
    “Because they’ve already been questioned separately by Crofton and Beale. Sally Beale told me Mrs. Laird’s second telling didn’t vary from the first and that she’s prepared to sign a statement.
    “If it really is a matter of her shooting a home intruder, and we continue badgering them, it’s going to look like we doubt them, and
that
will seem like reprisal for my contempt charge. The only thing it will accomplish is to piss off the judge. Gerard will have my ass if I have another run-in with him.”
    “Okay,” DeeDee said. “But what if it isn’t a case of her protecting herself from a home intruder?”
    “We have no reason to disbelieve them, do we?”
    He left DeeDee to mull that over and followed his nose until he located the kitchen, where Sally Beale and Elise Laird were seated at the table in the breakfast nook, talking quietly. When he came in, the policewoman, in the manner of a heavy person, pushed herself to her feet. “We’re finished here.” She closed the cover of her spiral notebook. “I’ve got it all down.”
    None of the color had returned to Elise Laird’s face. She looked at him inquisitively. He sensed unspoken apprehension.
    “We’re ready for you in the living room, Mrs. Laird.”
    He made his way back to the formal room, where Crofton and Judge Laird had been joined by an austere, gray-haired woman who was pouring hot liquid from a silver pot into china cups.
    Sally Beale, who had escorted Elise Laird from the kitchen, came up