Текст книги "Cold Hearted"

Автор книги: Beverly Barton

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They managed to get to the car before some reporters on the fringes of the crowd, coughing, wheezing and crying from the teargas, caught sight of them and ran toward the car. Just as Hart backed up the Lincoln, two men hurled themselves onto the hood, but when Hart whipped the big black car around, the intruders sailed off into the street.

Sitting in the front seat with Hart, Rick glanced in the rearview mirror and his gaze met Jordan’s.

That singular moment of silent communication ended practically before it began when Rick’s phone rang. Jordan grasped Devon’s hand, gave it a squeeze, and then closed her eyes as she said a prayer, asking for the strength to see this nightmare through to the end.

When Rick answered his phone, Griff Powell said, “Maleah’s going to be all right. She’s out of surgery. Nic and I are at Erlanger in Chattanooga. We’re staying over-night and plan to see Maleah in the morning.”

“That’s good news,” Rick replied. “Now if we can figure out who shot her and why—”

“That’s one of the other reasons I’m calling. The deputies arrested a guy about an hour ago. They found him and his high-powered rifle in the woods. He shot Maleah from outside the estate.”

“Are you sure they’ve got the right person?”

“Reasonably sure. The man confessed. We’ll know for sure once the bullet is examined, but this nut-job claims he meant to shoot Jordan. It seems he considered it his duty to act on God’s behalf and mete out punishment. As far as we know, he’s not connected with her or her family or the late senator in any way, other than the fact he lives in Priceville.”

“If this turns out to be on the up-and-up that means people we eliminated from our suspects list have to go right back on it.”

“By people, you mean Devon Markham, don’t you?” Griff said.

“Yeah.”

“While we’re on the subject of suspects, I talked to Derek Lawrence and he’s promised us a profile to fit each of your scenarios by Thursday. Maybe one of those profiles will fit one of the suspects to a T.”

“If only,” Rick said.

“In the meantime, be careful. If we’re right, there is a serial killer among Jordan Price’s family and close friends, someone who has possibly killed seven people. He or she won’t hesitate to kill again. You’re not just investigating Dan Price’s murder now, you’re guarding Jordan.” Griffin paused. “And even though I know you don’t want to entertain the possibility that Jordan herself is the killer, you’d be a fool to totally discount her as a suspect.”

Chapter 27

Rick landed the helicopter at the Price estate Tuesday evening. A couple of Powell agents and a sheriff’s deputy met them when they disembarked.

The deputy spoke to Rick. “Sheriff Corbett wants to talk to you, privately. He’s waiting down by the pond.” He hitched his thumb in the general direction. “Mr. Price and Mr. Keinan are with him.”

“Sure thing,” Rick said. “As soon as I get Mrs. Price settled.” He motioned to one of the two agents, a fairly new Powell Agency recruit named Nix Elliott. “I want you to stay with Mrs. Price until I relieve you. Stay close to her and know exactly where she is and who’s with her at all times.”

Elliott nodded.

Rick explained the situation to Jordan, who simply said, “I’ll be fine. I’m home now. We’re safe.” She had slipped her arm around Devon’s waist and hugged him to her side.

The poor guy looked as if he’d been through a physical and emotional wringer. But oddly enough Jordan was cool, calm, and totally together. Rick marveled at her ability to keep herself in check while taking care of others, in this case, looking after Devon.

If only he could believe that she was safe here on the Price estate. But he couldn’t. If his suspicions were correct, someone she loved and trusted was a killer. The only thing he didn’t know for certain was whether this person loved Jordan or hated her.

When they reached the house, Rick pulled Jordan aside. “I just need a minute, okay?”

She looked back at Devon. “Go on in. I won’t be long.”

Agent Elliott waited on the veranda while Devon and the other agent went inside the house.

“Everything that I discussed with you, Ryan, and Steve Corbett this morning is to stay among the four of us,” Rick told her. “Understand?”

“Yes, of course.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, you mean now that we know the man who shot Maleah isn’t personally connected to me or Dan or the other deaths, then Devon is a suspect again.”

“I’m sorry. I know you love him and trust him, but—”

“But you don’t trust him. You don’t even trust me. Not really.”

He grabbed her arm. “Damn it, Jordan, why can’t you understand that if you trust the wrong person, it could cost you your life.”

Trembling, she stood there and stared at him, but didn’t respond to his warning.

“Honey, don’t do this,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Make me the bad guy.”

“I know you’re one of the good guys,” she told him. “But so is Devon. I trust him as much as I trust you.”

She trusts me.

I want to trust her. And I do. Almost.

When he released his hold on her, she walked away and went inside the house. Rick waited until Nix Elliott followed her before he left to find the sheriff.

The late afternoon sunlight glistened off the pond’s smooth surface. Several geese floated leisurely, paying no heed to the humans. Thick, rich grass grew along the bank and wildflowers had recently sprouted in the field nearby. May in the Georgia countryside was fresh and green and vibrant.

Steve Corbett threw up his hand and motioned for Rick to join them where they stood near the pond, obviously waiting for him.

“Thank you for bringing Jordan and Devon home safely.” Ryan extended his hand to Rick and the two men exchanged a cordial shake.

“You know that we found the man who shot Maleah Perdue, don’t you?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I know. Griff called me.”

“That puts Devon Markham back on the suspects list,” Holt said. “Until we get those profiles from Derek Lawrence, we can only speculate about who we think killed Senator Price.”

“Even with the profiles, we’ll be speculating,” Steve said.

“I find it difficult to accept that any one of the people closest to Jordan may have killed my brother.” Ryan grimaced. “And I refuse to even consider the possibility that Jordan is guilty of any crime other than perhaps being too self-sacrificing.”

“We’ve been working on a plan.” Holt glanced at his two co-conspirators. “I’ve run it by the boss and he’s in agreement, but Griff said the final decision would have to be yours and Mrs. Price’s.”

Just what sort of plan had these guys come up with? “Well, spit it out.”

“If either of your scenarios about why someone has killed numerous men in Mrs. Price’s life is correct, then whoever our killer is, he or she goes after anyone, men in particular, whose death benefits Jordan in some way. She benefits either by eliminating a perceived threat or by her inheriting large sums of money,” Holt explained. “Our killer isn’t going to make another move unless he or she is presented with someone new who fits either description.”

“It doesn’t really matter why this person kills, does it? If he or she has killed in order to punish Jordan or in order to protect her, the end results have been the same,” Steve added.

“The plan is to present the killer with a new victim,” Ryan said. “Someone they would believe capable of harming Jordan.”

A tight knot formed in the pit of Rick’s belly. He wasn’t sure exactly what the game plan was, but he figured he had been chosen as the killer’s next target.

“Okay,” Rick said. “I’m the new victim, right? Just what am I going to do to threaten Jordan?”

“Jordan will know from day one what the plan is,” Ryan said. “You have to believe in her innocence, but pretend otherwise.”

“If our plan is to work, it will require some acting on your part and Jordan’s.” Steve shuffled his feet nervously, as if he wasn’t sure how Rick would react to the details of their plan. “On the surface, you’ll be Jordan’s champion. You believe in her. You know she is completely innocent. She sees you as her knight in shining armor. The two of you exhibit some personal interest in each other. But while you’re supposedly playing up to Jordan, you’re going behind her back trying to prove she murdered Dan and the others.”

“The plan’s too complicated,” Rick told them. “Besides, I don’t think Jordan will agree to it.”

“Don’t shoot it down. At least not yet,” Steve said. “Once we get the profiles from Powell’s expert and get a better idea of who our killer could be, we’ll know whether to follow through with the plan or try another tactic.”

“My brother’s reputation is ruined,” Ryan said. “Everything that Jordan and Devon sacrificed for Dan was for nothing. Now Jordan’s life could well be on the line. How can she ever move past what’s happened unless the killer is found? We have to find the real killer and prove Jordan’s innocence.”

“Okay, we’ll talk to her.” Rick glanced at Ryan. “Just the two us. If she agrees, we’ll put this convoluted plan into motion. But God help us if we screw this thing up.”

“No!” Jordan was adamant. “You’re asking me to lie to the people who mean the most to me. By taking part in this plan, I’m as good as admitting that I believe someone near and dear to me is a murderer.”

“On the other hand, it could do the exact opposite,” Rick pointed out to her. “If no one takes the bait, it could convince us that we’re wrong.”

“I can’t do it.” Shaking her head, she turned away from him.

“Jordan, I don’t want to believe it’s possible any more than you do,” Ryan told her. “But even if there is the slightest chance that Rick is right—”

“He’s not.” She turned on them, her gaze darting from Ryan to Rick and back to Ryan. “Do you honestly believe that Devon could have killed Dan? My God, he all but worshipped your brother. He would have moved heaven and earth for him.”

“No, not Devon, but—”

“Darlene? She’s like a mother to me. She’s gentle and kind and I love her dearly.”

“I admit that Darlene doesn’t have the disposition you would expect a cold-blooded killer to have,” Ryan said.

“And Rene is my best friend. She’s ambitious and aggressive, but good grief, she cries when she sees a dead animal in the road. She couldn’t kill anyone. What about Roselynne? Do you honestly think she’s a killer? And Tammy? Do you think she’s actually smart enough to get away with murder and not just one murder, but six or seven? And even J.C., for all his faults, doesn’t have it in him to kill.”

“I know and I agree,” Ryan said. “But someone killed Dan.”

Jordan closed her eyes, obviously wanting to shut out the ugliness of that undeniable truth. Someone with access to their home, someone who had known where Dan kept the gun he’d bought her, had killed Dan. As horrible as the thought was, she had to accept the facts – if Jordan didn’t kill her husband that meant someone else did.

She opened her eyes and looked at Rick. “All right. I’ll go along with this, but only if the profile you receive from Powell’s actually points to one of your suspects.”

“We shouldn’t wait,” Ryan told her. “The sooner—”

“You have a deal.” Rick glanced from Jordan to Ryan. “We can wait a couple of days if that makes this any easier for Jordan.”

“I’m agreeing to this only to prove to both of you that you’re going to have to look beyond the obvious and find other suspects.”

Ryan frowned sympathetically, then walked over to Jordan and hugged her. “I’m sorry to put you through this and I truly hope you’re right. But you must understand how important it is to me, now more than ever, to prove that Dan didn’t commit suicide. And we all want to prove that you have never killed anyone.”

She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “I do understand. I want Dan’s killer caught and punished just as much as you do. And Devon wants the same thing.”

Ryan released her and then turned to Rick. “Take good care of her. She’s a special kind of lady.”

Rick nodded.

When Ryan closed the study door behind him, Rick made a quick decision. He intended to leave Jordan in peace, at least for the rest of the evening. “Agent Elliott will be posted outside the study,” Rick told her. “He’ll stay with you for a few hours while I take care of some other things.”

“What things?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. If I learn anything new, I’ll share it with you immediately.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

He hated leaving things this way, with Jordan exhausted, emotionally raw, and worrying about everyone except herself. But he needed to put some distance between them – even if it was only a few rooms inside the house.

“You realize that from here on out, I need to be with you around the clock,” he said. “Maybe you could see if Tobias can round up a cot of some kind and put it outside your bedroom.”

“Do you actually think someone might—”

“Work with me, okay? I know your feelings. You know my thoughts. It’s my job to keep you safe. I need you to cooperate with me.”

“There’s no reason for you to sleep on a cot. There’s a daybed in my dressing room. You can sleep there.” She looked him over, from head to toe. “The bed may be a little too short for you, but it will be far more comfortable than a cot.”

“Do you trust me that much, to let me sleep in your dressing room?”

“I believe you’re the type of man who would never do anything I didn’t want you to do.” She offered him a wavering smile. “You see, I trust you far more than you trust me.”

“Don’t assume you know what I think.”

“I assume nothing where you’re concerned.”

“If I sleep behind closed doors with you, what will your family think? Aren’t you concerned about—?”

“No, I’m not the least concerned. You’re my bodyguard. It’s expected that you will stay close to me at all times.”

Despite his better judgment, he moved toward her, narrowing the space between them to mere inches. “That’s the problem. I want to be close to you.”

He reached out, clamped his hand on the back of her neck and drew her to him as he lowered his head down far enough so that they were staring directly into each other’s eyes. Her mouth opened on a startled gasp.

“Rick?”

“Damn!”

He covered her mouth with his, his tongue circling her lips, tasting her before he thrust inside. She swayed toward him, her breasts brushing against his chest. Holding her head in place, he deepened the kiss. Just as he realized that she wasn’t responding and started to end things, she laid her hands on his chest and moaned as she kissed him back. It was then that he knew she was as hungry for him as he was for her.

Taking full advantage of the opportunity, Rick kissed her until they were both breathless. As they broke apart slowly, his hand still gripping the back of her neck and her hands still on his chest, he lifted his head and looked at her.

When she closed her eyes, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years,” she said. “Not since…”

He ran his index finger up and down the back of her neck in a caressing gesture. “Not since when?”

She opened her eyes, smiled at him and said, “Not since I was young and foolish and believed in happily ever after.”

“Not since Robby Joe?”

“What I had with Robby Joe, I’ll never have with anyone else. But I didn’t expect this. I don’t even know what to call it.”

“Sexual attraction.”

“That’s all it is,” she said. “It’s all it can be.”

“Don’t discount the power of lust in a relationship.”

Neither of them realized someone had seen the kiss and overheard their conversation; not until Rick heard the door close and caught a glimpse of Rene Burke as she hurried away.

“What is it?” Jordan lifted her hand to his face, cupped his chin, and turned his face to hers. “Did you hear something?” She glanced at the closed door.

“The door was open,” he told her. “Rene was there, but when she realized she was interrupting something between us, she left.”

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you that she saw us?”

“No. And I suppose it plays right into the little charade you have planned to trap Dan’s killer, doesn’t it?”

Rick cupped her face and forced her to look directly at him. “That kiss had absolutely nothing to do with the plan. It was something just between you and me.”

“I know.”

“Good.” He kissed her forehead and her cheeks.

“We can’t act on our baser impulses again.”

“You’re calling the shots. We’ll go as fast or as slow as you need to and we can stop with this one kiss, if that’s what you really want.”

“What I want—”

Rick’s cell phone rang. He cursed under his breath. “I’d better get it.”

She stepped back, moving away from him, while he retrieved his phone and checked caller ID.

“It’s my boss.” He flipped open the phone. “Yeah, Griff, what is it?”

“We’ve unearthed a piece of information I think Mrs. Price should know about as soon as possible,” Griff said. “Our sources have uncovered the identity of the person who sold the story about the senator to The Chatterbox.”

“Was Haley McLain involved in any way?” Rick asked.

“I don’t know,” Griff replied. “But you can ask J.C. Harris. The Chatterbox paid Mrs. Price’s stepbrother three hundred thousand dollars for the info they used in the exposé about Daniel Price.”

“Do you know where Harris is now?”

“He’s in Vegas spending his ill-gotten gains.”

“How about sending someone to question him?” Rick suggested. “Someone who knows how to get the truth out of him.”

“If Haley McLain was involved, she could lose her job.”

“Yeah, I know. If she put Harris up to this, she shouldn’t be in law enforcement.”

“Agreed. I’ll send Luke Sentell to Vegas.”

“Thanks.” Rick slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to Jordan, who had waited quietly while he spoke to Griff. “Your stepbrother sold the story about Dan and Devon and you to The Chatterbox. They paid him three hundred thousand.”

“Oh, God. This news will kill Roselynne when she finds out. And Tammy. Rick, I don’t want either of them to know. Please.”

He stared at her, stunned by the fact that instead of being outraged that her stepbrother could have betrayed her in such a blatant and hurtful way, she was worried about his mother and sister.

“Honey, are you for real?”

Before she could do more than stare at him, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again.

Chapter 28

For the past two nights, Rick had slept on the daybed in Jordan’s dressing room. He had made a point of being up and out of the room before she awoke both mornings and had waited until she was in bed each night before he walked quietly through her bedroom. After sharing some hot kisses Tuesday evening, they had agreed not to allow things to progress any further. Rick wanted more and was sure she wanted more, too, but exactly what that more involved he didn’t think either of them knew for sure. Yeah, okay, so he did know he wanted sex. That went without saying, didn’t it? But did it go beyond that for either of them? After all, they had known each other less than a month and had met the day of her husband’s funeral. But Dan Price had been Jordan’s husband in name only, so it wasn’t as if she were in mourning for a man she’d been in love with.

Don’t forget about her baby.

Jordan hid her grief for her child. Since the miscarriage, she’d barely had time to come to terms with the loss. She’d been forced to deal with being suspected of murder and having the truth about her marriage revealed to the world. And it seemed that as usual, she’d had no choice but to put everyone’s needs before her own. He wasn’t going to do that to her. Instead, he was going to do what he knew was best for Jordan and keep his hands off her. She needed his protection, needed the Powell Agency to find out who murdered her husband, and needed to be exonerated of any guilt in the deaths of the others.

Taking care of Jordan sure as hell didn’t include screwing her.

Rick checked his wristwatch as he finished his brisk morning walk around the estate. Ten-fifteen. He had left Nix Elliott in charge of Jordan while he escaped. Being with her twenty-four/seven was proving to be more difficult than he’d thought. If she were any other woman and this was any other case, he’d have already bowed out and handed her over to another agent. Permanently. He had never allowed himself to become personally involved with a client and knew he was playing fast and loose with his own code of ethics.

If you think things are difficult now, just wait until you two set “the plan” into motion.

As he came up the drive, he heard an approaching vehicle. He turned just as a silver Corvette drove past him and pulled to a stop in front of the house. Rick recognized the tall, lanky guy who emerged from the sports car. Derek Lawrence, former FBI profiler, now an independent contractor, the author of half a dozen true crime books, and a part-time Powell Agency employee.

Derek threw up his hand. “Hey there.”

“I thought you were going to call,” Rick said.

“I’m on my way to Atlanta, so Griff suggested I stop by and give you my report in person.” Derek glanced around, his gaze sweeping over the antebellum mansion and the broad expanse of lawn. “Quite a place.”

“Have you had breakfast?” Rick asked.

“Yes, thanks. I stopped in Chattanooga for a bite on the way here.”

“Come on in. I’ll get Jordan and we can—”

“Let’s talk, just you and me. You can share whatever information you think Mrs. Price needs to know with her later.”

Rick eyed Derek questioningly. “What’s going on?”

“Do you feel like showing me around the place? I wouldn’t mind taking a stroll around the property.”

“Sure. Come on.”

They left the veranda, side by side. Rick waited for Derek to continue the conversation, his gut warning him that he wasn’t going to like whatever this renowned profiler had to say.

“After going over all the information Griff sent me, I’ve come to the conclusion that your killer is probably either Jordan Price or someone who would do anything for her.”

Rick had figured as much. Hadn’t he, early on, suspected Jordan? She was the logical choice.

“I know all the reasons why she would head the list of suspects. But ruling her out completely, who’s our second choice?”

“Don’t rule her out,” Derek said. “That would be a mistake.”

“You were supposed to work up a profile of our killer, not—”

“Just because you don’t want the lady to be a killer doesn’t mean she isn’t.” Focusing on Rick as if he were trying to solve a puzzle, Derek scowled. “Your interest in Mrs. Price goes beyond the professional, doesn’t it?”

“No.” Rick huffed. “Yeah, okay, it does. And I know she’s the prime suspect in her husband’s murder and if the other deaths were murder, then she’s the person who had the most to gain from killing each of them. But if you knew her, you’d know that Jordan is not a killer.”

“All right, let’s work under the premise that someone other than Mrs. Price killed her husband and his ex-wife and possibly her first husband and fiancé and the others.” Derek glanced back at the house. “Let’s keep walking. We’ll have more privacy that way.”

Rick chose the path, one that led away from the mansion. When they were no longer within earshot of anyone in or near the house, he paused and confronted Derek. “Who’s your number two suspect?”

“You know enough about profiling to know it’s not an exact science.”

“Yeah, but it’s a notch above looking into a crystal ball.”

Derek grinned. “If we actually have a serial murderer on our hands, then we start with the basics. Most serial killers can be divided into categories based on how they interact with their victims. Some rape or sexually torture. Some mutilate. I’d say your killer executes. He or she may get a thrill from the murder itself, but killing appears to be a means to an end.”

“Yeah, I got that. The killer believes he – or she – is taking care of Jordan, punishing those who hurt her or eliminating those who stand in the way of her happiness.”

Derek nodded. “If we assume that all or at least most of the men, and the first Mrs. Price, were murdered, then we look at each death. Was each murder premeditated, was it planned? Yes, each seems to have been, at least to some degree. What did the victims have in common? Jordan Price. What was the method of murder? It varied from person to person, but in each case, except for Jane Anne Price and Jay Reynolds, the other deaths appeared to be from natural causes, accidents and suicide. It all boils down to one fact – this person is no ordinary, run-of-the-mill, serial killer.”

“You’re giving me a Beginner’s Lesson in Profiling. Why?”

Derek chuckled. “Sometimes I just like to impress people with my knowledge.”

“Or maybe you don’t have a clue as to who might have killed Dan Price or any of the others.”

“Let me paint you a picture and see if you recognize anyone. Our killer is mission oriented. The murders occurred whenever our killer perceived that the victim was harmful in some way to Jordan. That fact dictated when the murders took place. As for where and by what method, where depended on being able to isolate the victim and the method seemed to be whatever could be disguised as anything other than murder.”

“With two exceptions,” Rick said.

Derek nodded. “Our killer is rational and calculating. He or she doesn’t have a specific MO except their single motive of protecting Jordan. These murders, be it two murders or seven, were all about Jordan.”

“The killer loves Jordan.”

“The killer is obsessed with Jordan,” Derek said. “My educated guess is that this person loves Jordan to the point of obsession. She is the beginning and end of their world. They need her the way they need the air that they breathe. If Jordan isn’t the killer, then find the person who thinks of the two of them as one. The killer has no life without Jordan and probably believes that Jordan has no life without him or her.”

“Crap! That tells me two things – you haven’t narrowed down the suspects list by much and we’re dealing with someone who is completely mental.”

“Our killer probably appears normal,” Derek said. “He or she lives a relatively ordinary life just like the average person. A person can be evil without being abnormal.”

“You’ve read over the files on each possible suspect. Does anyone send up a red flag?”

“The people in Mrs. Price’s life seem to be extraordinarily devoted to her. Her stepmother and stepsister, and to some extent her stepbrother. I wouldn’t rule out J.C. Harris, but I’d put him at the bottom of the list. Tammy Harris could be obsessed with Jordan. She loves being her sister and possibly identifies closely with her, but she wouldn’t head my list either simply because I don’t believe she’s smart enough to have gotten away with murder numerous times. Of the three members of the Harris family, Roselynne is the most likely.”

“What about Rene, Devon, and Darlene?”

“Rene is smart, calculating and one of Jordan’s best friends. I’d keep her on the list, along with Roselynne and Darlene Wright. Mrs. Wright appears to be totally devoted to Jordan. It’s possible that her devotion turned to obsession at some point along the way.”

“You’re forgetting Devon Markham.”

Derek shook his head. “I didn’t forget Devon, I simply left the best for last. I’d place him at the top of the list. He has known Jordan longer than any of the others. He loves her like a sister, like a best friend, perhaps loves her as the other half of himself. She has loved him, protected him, defended him, and sacrificed for him since they were children. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe that he would do anything for her, just as she would for him. Even kill.”

Of all the possible suspects, Devon headed Derek’s list, just as he did Rick’s. And of all the suspects, Devon was the one Jordan loved more, trusted more, and would never believe guilty.

“I agree,” Rick said. “But why would Devon kill Dan Price? They were lovers. They had been in a committed relationship for twelve years.”

“For the same reasons men kill their wives and women kill their husbands. Infidelity. Money. Freedom. And there are always incidents where a spouse kills a terminally ill mate who is suffering. If Devon Markham knew about his lover’s Alzheimer’s—”

“He didn’t. Supposedly no one knew, except the senator’s doctor.”

“Supposedly,” Derek said. “All you have is each person’s word that Dan Price didn’t share that information. If the senator would tell anyone about the diagnosis, don’t you think it would be his partner?”

Rick nodded. He had really hoped that Derek’s profiles would point the finger of suspicion at someone other than Devon. If any one of her family and close friends turned out to be the murderer, it would break Jordan’s heart; but if it was Devon, Jordan would be devastated.

“Did Griff tell you anything about the idea of our setting a trap for the killer?” Rick asked.

“He mentioned it.”

“And?”

“It might work. But on the other hand, you have to know you could be risking your life. And there’s always the chance that he won’t take the bait. That is assuming Devon is the killer.”

“You think he is.”

“I think it’s possible, especially if he thinks like a woman.”

“What do you mean?”

“My initial conclusion was that the killer is female, but I altered that assumption when I saw that Devon Markham fit all the other criteria. I think he’s the most likely suspect out of the six that you offered me. But you cannot rule out any of the others, especially not Roselynne, Rene, and Darlene.”

“When I asked Roselynne for permission to have her husband’s body exhumed, she refused. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to find out that his heart attack wasn’t really a simple heart attack, but actually murder.”

“You’d think she’d want to do anything to help prove Mrs. Price innocent of past crimes, wouldn’t you? What about Darlene Wright? Did she refuse to give you permission to have her son’s body exhumed?”

“No. Actually Jordan told me, in no uncertain terms, not to ask her.”

“Ask her anyway and see what she says. If she’s willing to have his body exhumed and an autopsy performed, I’d say that means she believes her son’s death was an accident and neither she nor Jordan has anything to hide.”

“I should have asked her. But Jordan is our client and as a general rule, Powell’s does what the client wants.”

“I believe Ryan Price actually hired you, didn’t he? If I understood correctly, Jordan Price joined him in the request after the fact.”