Vicious by Debra Webb

with Wesley . That was it. Felt like a lifetime ago.
    Wesley Duvall, her one and only ex-husband, had been another life. She’d hit forty and suddenly marriage seemed necessary. She and Wesley had married on a Saturday and were back at work on Monday. The marriage lasted barely longer than the senseless celebrity wedding debacles that made the news. Sooner, rather than later, Wesley transferred to the west coast where he was needed since Jess didn’t seem to need him after the initial ceremony.
    Looking back, she understood now she’d only needed to prove to herself that someone wanted to marry her. Wesley just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least they had remained friends.
    “That masterpiece comes from the admirable imagination of a local artist.”
    Jess turned from the commendable rendering of Sloss Furnaces, a local landmark, to the man who’d spoken. He stood medium height with broad shoulders and a kind face. Late forties, maybe fifty, she estimated. Nice silk jacket, very expensive and a stark contrast to the comfortable jeans and gray t-shirt that sported the Crimson Tide logo. The man looked nothing at all like she’d pictured the owner of an art gallery or a master teacher of one of the fine arts. He looked more like a firefighter or football coach.
    A stealthy one considering he’d walked right up to her and she hadn’t sensed his presence until he spoke. Where was her mind?
    “She’s quite talented,” Jess agreed. The artist’s signature read Leah J.
    “Quite.” He extended his hand. “Richard Ellis at your service, Chief.”
    So, he knew who she was. My, my. Jess shook his hand. His palms and fingers weren’t as smooth as she’d expected. Evidently, nothing about this man was to be what she’d anticipated. “Do you have an office where we can discuss an ongoing case?”
    He gestured to the room at large. “This is my office.”
    Visitors, those who had come from Montgomery, she supposed, filed out the entrance. Jess counted ten. He was a popular guy. “I was thinking of some place a bit more private, Mr. Ellis.”
    “Please, call me Rick.”
    Before Jess could respond, he strode to the entrance, made a parting comment in French, no less, to the exiting visitors, and then closed and locked the door. He rotated the ‘open’ sign to the closed side and released the Roman style shade so that it dropped down over the glass in the door.
    “Now.” He glanced at Lori, and then turned back to Jess. “Would you and your friend like coffee? Water?”
    “No thank you, Rick.” Jess moved to the nearest sofa and took a seat. She settled her bag next to her and removed her pad and pencil. “I hope we’re not catching you at a bad time.”
    Lori continued to wander the gallery.
    Ellis relaxed in the stylish sofa stationed on the other side of the marble and glass coffee table. “Not at all. What may I have the privilege of doing this morning for Birmingham’s newest deputy chief?”
    “One of your former students, Lisa Templeton, was murdered.” Jess didn’t hear any sign of a European accent in his voice. What she heard was a northeastern one, most likely Massachusetts.
    He nodded, his expression shifting from congenial to somber. “Stacey called me. She was horribly upset. Lisa was a dear friend of hers.” He shook his head. “I’m continually amazed at the evil one human can do to another. Lisa was a lovely young woman.”
    Jess was amazed at what dear friends like Stacey could do as well but she opted to keep that to herself. “When did you last see Lisa?”
    He inclined his head and flashed her a knowing smile. “Are you asking me for an alibi, Chief?”
    “Do you have one?” Charm wasn’t going to buy him an ounce of slack.
    “Let’s see. Sunday night I went to dinner with friends who will gladly corroborate as much. By midnight I was tucked in for the night.”
    “Alone?”
    He smiled again. “Unfortunately.”
    Jess decided not to point out that he