Fowler held her gaze for a long moment. “For the record, there still is no evidence of an intruder or intruders. And,” he held up a hand when she would have blasted him, “it’s very possible you picked it up on your clothing from some other location, which is the reason it was not entered into evidence.”
Chance spoke before she could. “I’m sure you now understand that the sort of speculation that went into that decision was out of bounds.”
Fowler cleared his throat. “At any rate, we’re looking into it.”
Rory fought to maintain control of her temper. “It rained that night,” she snapped. The words popped out of her sounexpectedly and with such fervency, she could only stare at the detective afterward.
He stared right back at her, whether from anger or a lack of what to say next, she couldn’t be sure. It was, she realized during the stare-off, astonishing how much older he looked. Gray had completely overtaken his once brown hair. His complexion had grown ruddier, his jowls sagged with visible weariness, and even his suit was rumpled as if worn one too many times between visits to the cleaners. Then again, it was the end of the day. Maybe he was just particularly weary today. Ready for it to end.
Rory was ready for this damned case to end, only the right way this time.
“It did rain, yes.” He nodded, the words floating out on a sigh. “But it wasn’t enough to wet the ground, which made it irrelevant.”
“My feet got wet when I was running for help,” she argued.
“But the ground wasn’t wet enough to have footsteps make indentations,” he argued, “if that’s what you’re getting at. And—” he looked from her to Chance and back “—for the record, we did look. We just didn’t find anything.”
Chance spoke up. “Was that before or after the other officers and official personnel were on sight—poking around, obliterating any other tracks?”
If possible, his jowls sagged even lower with the frustration Chance prompted. “We do know how to run an investigation down here, Mr. Rader.”
“I’m sure you do,” Chance responded. “I am curious, however, as to the reports regarding fingerprints found at the scene. There appears to have been none other than those belonging to Ms. Harris and to the victim.”
Fowler rocked his head up and down, the move causing his fleshy neck to waddle. “That’s correct.”
Rory had to look away. How could he sit there and lie when he must realize they knew he was doing so?
“The basket used to bring the food to the cottage,” Chance went on. “Based on the crime scene photos I viewed, it was a natural woven basket with a white lacy cloth inside it. The champagne, a loaf of bread, a variety of cheeses and a few other items that were inside had been removed.”
Fowler gave another of those long, slow nods. “That’s right.”
Chance winced. “You see, that’s a problem. Because the newlyweds didn’t have the basket with them at the wedding ceremony. Ms. Harris’s brother, Austin, picked it up from The Feed Store—where it had been prepared—and took it to the cottage just before the ceremony. He left it on the counter in the kitchen just as it was found when the crime scene photos were taken. His prints as well as anyone at The Feed Store who arranged it should have been on the basket and its contents.”
Now the detective’s reddish complexion had gone pale. “I’m confident everything in the cottage was checked—even the basket and its contents.”
“If the basket is still in evidence,” Chance suggested, “perhaps your forensic folks might need to have another look.”
The red rushed back into his cheeks with a vengeance.
“There’s also,” Chance went on when the detective said nothing, “the discrepancy in the autopsy report.”
Fowler’s forehead folded in bewilderment. “What discrepancy?”
Chance explained about the Taser mark in the photo of Pete’s neck. Rory bit her bottom lip. Each time she thought about someone doing that to Pete in addition to everything else, her heart hurt.
Fowler shook his head. “I have no recall of that photo, but rest assured, I will look into it.”
Rory barely resisted rolling her eyes.Fat lot of good that would do.
Chance smiled when the detective said no more. “Well, if you don’t have any other questions, we’ll get out of your way. We have some additional interviews to take care of, and I am confident you have a great deal of work to do. My agency will be getting back to you very soon about where to send that overlooked evidence.”
He and Rory stood.
The detective scooted back his seat and hefted himself up. “I may need to speak with you again,” he said as he made his way to the door.
“Maybe a little more advance notice would help next time,” Chance suggested. “We will likely want the attorney Zoomed in as well.”
The detective grunted some indistinguishable response.
