His eyebrows lifted slightly. “That sounds very…polite.”
Her lips trembled just a little before she could stop the outward display. “Pete was like that. Always polite. Always thoughtful of others’ feelings.”
Still obviously unconvinced, he braced his forearms on the table. “I’m wondering how a man in his position at such a large development company could be so sensitive…sonotpushy. Scheduling issues, personnel problems, contract negotiations. How’d he handle the ups and downs of the business?”
“The answer to that one is easy.” She pressed her lips together a moment, thinking back on Pete’s thoughts on the matter.“Pete always said his parents were the pushy ones. He didn’t want a marriage like theirs. As for the business, if there were problems at work, Pete handled them calmly and professionally. Surprisingly it worked better, in his opinion. I think people were so grateful not to have to deal with Anthony that they worked out any issues with Pete rather than the alternative.”
She’d often wondered how two people so ambitious and, frankly, pushy ever had a son like Pete.
Chance’s attention lingered on the laptop screen again. “It would seem his actions backed up his words. Every person interviewed by the police said he was the nicest guy they’d ever met.”
It was more difficult to keep the tremble from her lips this time. “That was Pete.”
Chance stared at the table a moment before meeting her gaze once more. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” he began, “but everyone has a darker side, maybe not very dark, but a little unpleasant at the very least. Everyone has bad thoughts occasionally. Everyone makes mistakes. What I’m finding in the statements and hearing from you is that Pete seemed perfect, and we both know that’s not possible.”
Rory wanted to shout at him. To shake him. Something to make him see that he simply didn’t understand. Pete was this amazing and, yes, perfect guy. He was so nice. So sweet. She couldn’t explain it. He just was.
When she’d tamped down the initial reaction, she said, “I understand what you’re saying. But it’s true. Pete and I started dating, and two months later we moved in together. Four months after that, we got married.Six months.I knew him for six months. I lived with him for four of those months. Don’t you think if he had any sort of dark side, I would have seen at least a glimpse of it?”
“Maybe.” He smiled, the expression sad. “Understand that I have to ask these questions. There is a reason this happened. A motive. If Pete hadn’t crossed anyone and you hadn’t crossed anyone, that leaves only two options—a random act of violence for nothing other than the thrill of the kill, or the one Detective Fowler believes.”
That Rory killed her husband.
Emotions swelled and knotted inside her. “Well, we can cross out that last one, because I did not kill my husband.”
He nodded. “Okay. Let’s move on. The next anomaly we need to consider is why you were left alive.”
She clasped her fingers together to prevent picking at her cuticles or some other nervous fidgeting. “I’ve asked myself that a million times. I was in and out of consciousness, so I can only assume something happened to make them leave before they could kill me. I wasn’t bleeding anywhere. I had no broken bones. Just bruises and scratches and a concussion. Obviously I was in no danger of dying. They had to understand that was the case.”
That part—her being left alive—remained a total mystery to her. She often wondered if it would have been easier if she’d died too.
Don’t even go there.
Chance rubbed a hand over his jaw, cupped his chin for a moment. “Are you certain Pete had nothing from work with him? Nothing of value that you may not have known about, like a jump drive or file or key to a safety deposit box? Something the intruders came for but didn’t want it to be obvious. That’s what the break-in was about. It’s possible the intrusion wasn’t about the two of you at all, but something related to the business or the Harris family.”
A frown tugged at her. “I suppose that’s possible, but why wouldn’t Anthony bring it up during the investigation? He lovedhis son. I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t do everything possible to uncover who killed him.”
“Except,” Chance countered, “Anthony and Eudora thought they had their killer.”
Her shoulders sagged. “True.” Not only had she been falsely accused, but she was likely the reason they hadn’t looked further for the real killer.
“I want you,” Chance urged, “to think about that scenario. Try and recall if Pete mentioned anything about an issue with a business contract or negotiation or a person related to work. Or some big coup or change coming.”
“Okay. I will say, though,” she offered, “that he rarely talked about work unless it was something he wanted to celebrate with me. Whatever problems the business had, he left at work. He said his father had been bad to bring work issues home, and Pete never wanted to do that to me.”
Chance chuckled. “You’re right. I’m beginning to think the guy was perfect.”
Rory inhaled a big breath. This next part wouldn’t be so easy. Not that any of it was, really. But some parts were admittedly harder than others. Like going back to White Cottage.
“You said you had a copy of the autopsy report.” She held her breath in an effort to slow the frantic beating of her heart. This was a part she never liked thinking about.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “But I don’t think you want to look at it. There’s just one image that I would like you to see, and I can arrange for that one to lessen the impact.”
“Okay.” She wouldn’t argue. She had no desire to see the accompanying photos or to read the cold, somber descriptions of her husband’s injuries.
He tapped a few keys and then turned the screen around for her to see. She blinked, studied the image closer. This was her husband’s neck, the left side, she decided. True to his word,Chance had resized the image so that nothing except a patch of skin was visible. Her heart ached just knowing that this was part of him…that the rest of the image likely showed his dead body.
“You see these marks?” Chance tapped the screen.
