Page 24 of I'm Watching You

‘I don’t know.’

The door opened a second time. This time a tall slim woman appeared at the threshold. She was dressed in a simple black sheath that accentuated full breasts and a narrow waist. A gold cross dangled from a chain around her neck. Long black hair grazed the top of slender shoulders and framed a lovely oval face that could have been classified as angelic if not for the sharpness behind her violet eyes.

Behind her, polished wood floors gleamed. Walls papered in cream and black stripes served as a backdrop to eighteenth-century portraits. A crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, twisting sunlight into rainbows.

‘Mrs Jordan Turner?’ Warwick said.

‘Yes?’ A crease formed between neatly plucked eyebrows as her gaze shifted between the two of them. ‘I understand you’re with the police department.’

Both men reached in their pockets and pulled out badges.

‘We’re with Henrico County Police,’ Warwick said.

‘What can I do for you?’ Her tone turned cautious.

‘Is there anyone else in the house with you?’ They didn’t want her alone in case she took the news of her husband’s death badly.

She glanced behind her. Feminine laughter sounded from inside the house. ‘I’ve a few ladies from the church here. What’s this about?’

‘Have you seen your husband this morning?’ Warwick said.

Answering a question with a question often led to more information.

‘Harold and I had dinner together last night. After that we went our separate ways. I had a late church meeting and didn’t get home until after eleven. I’m not sure what plans Harold had scheduled on his calendar.’

‘What time did your husband come in last night?’ Warwick said.

She frowned. ‘What’s this about?’

Warwick ignored her question. ‘I would appreciate it if you would just confirm his arrival for me.’

Jordan drew in a breath. ‘We have separate bedrooms.’ Color rose in her cheeks as if she was embarrassed by the admission. Appearances were clearly a priority for her. ‘Harold has terrible back problems and he needs a special mattress.’

Zack tucked the badge back in his pocket. ‘What time did you have dinner with him last night?’

Her lips flattened. ‘Six. We leftLa Merat seven. Is Harold in some kind of trouble?’

‘May we come inside?’ Warwick said.

Jordan stepped out onto the front porch, softly closing the door behind her. ‘As I said, I’ve a group of women visiting from the church. Now is not a good time to hear about Harold’s latest indiscretion.’

‘It’s more than an indiscretion, ma’am,’ Zack said.

She fidgeted with her five-carat wedding ring with her thumb. ‘What has my husband done this time?’

‘This time?’ Zack said.

‘A month ago he was arrested for drunk driving in the city.’

Warwick’s gaze didn’t waver from Jordan’s face. ‘Mr Turner was found dead this morning behind Sanctuary Women’s Shelter.’

For a moment, she just stared at them, her eyes blinking slowly as if her brain couldn’t process. She raised her hand to her mouth. Finally, she found her voice, which possessed surprising steel. ‘Are you sure it was Harold?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Warwick said. ‘We found his wallet in his breast pocket.’

Sudden tears glistened in her eyes. But Zack couldn’ttell if they were born in sadness or relief. ‘What happened to him? How did he die?’

‘He was shot.’ He wasn’t telling her anything that wouldn’t appear on the six o’clock news. Details about the mutilation and the caliber of the gun would remain confidential until the case was solved.

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