Page 74 of Three Steps Behind

Joel chuckled. “You usually are.”

“We think one of my best friends was killed by her husband,” Harper said, beating him to the punch.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning.” Joel grabbed a notepad and pen.

Harper looked at Deck. “Should you begin, or should I?”

“Please.” He gestured for her to start.

“Okay.” She exhaled, shaking out her hands. “I recently got back from an overseas trip.”

Deck wondered how much she would say, but knowing how private she was, nothing would come up about what happened to her over there, and he didn’t blame her. Most people didn’t need to share as much as they thought they did.

“Upon my return,” she continued, “I learned my friend Taylor Jackson died.”

Joel jotted down notes, then looked up. “I’m assuming the manner of death indicated murder?” The main phone line rang, but he ignored it. When the ringing continued, he finally glanced at the phone in frustration. “Sorry,” he said. “We’re a bit short-staffed right now. We need a new deputy.” He glanced at the number, then clicked the voicemail button. “That can wait.” He turned his full attention back to Harper. “You were saying?”

Harper raked a shaky hand through her hair. Deck reached over and took her other hand in his, hopefully soothing her by running his finger along her thumb. She didn’t pull her hand away, and it warmed him. She was letting him be there for her—an answer to prayer—and that meant the world to him.

“I was told she had a heart attack, but I don’t believe it.”

Joel tapped his pen against the pad. “May I ask why not?”

“For starters, no one officially declared it a heart attack.”

Joel sat back and linked his arms over his chest. “I’m going to need you to explain that one a little bit more.”

Harper explained about Nick’s decision not to autopsy and continued through it all—the journal, affair, and will.

“Okay.” Joel sat forward and lifted his pen to once again jot down notes. “If there’s enough evidence to support what you’re claiming, then an autopsy could always be done now, but we need the proper evidence to get approval from a judge. Especially to have an autopsy done against the husband’s wishes, and if the husband killed her, it would definitely be against his wishes.”

“That’s the problem.” Deck shifted in his seat, draping his arms on the armrests. “There can’t be an autopsy.”

“Like I said, it depends on the circumstances, and the evidence you’re presenting.” Again, Joel tapped his pen on the legal pad.

“No. I get what you’re saying, but there can’t be an autopsy. Not in this case,” Deck continued. “Nick had her cremated right after the forty-eight-hour mark.”

“Oh. Well, that’s interesting. But again, we can’t hold the man accountable for when he chooses to cremate his wife. People grieve in different ways.”

“He’s not grieving,” Harper said in a rush, then stilled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burst out like that. It’s just . . .” Tears filled her eyes, ready to tumble over her cheeks.

Joel tugged a handful of Kleenex from the box on his desk and handed it to Harper.

“Thank you.” She sniffed.

“I know this must be very difficult for you, and I’m sorry for your loss. I’m just trying to play devil’s advocate because I know how these things go down in court. If he murdered his wife, and if there is enough evidence to prove it, I’ll do everything I can to help nail him. We just need to walk through everything.”

Harper reached for a fresh tissue. “I understand.”

“But here’s where things get really weird,” Deck said.

Joel arched a brow. “How weird are we talking?”

Deck gestured for Harp to continue. He was so proud of her. He still didn’t understand the magnitude of what happened to her, but here she was, fighting for justice.

“We attended her remembrance ceremony at their house this morning, and while we were there, I was down at their fire pit by the river to get the fire poker, and when I pulled it out, I saw a cremation coin. As we collected it—with all protocols in place—I also found part of a small glass bottle. I think it’s from a perfume bottle. But worse yet, her ashes were in the fire pit.”

“Hang on. Are you saying your friend’s remains were in the fire pit?”