AllFreeNovel
Share Us
the shadow of the headboard.
?“A bullet hole?” I muttered.
?“Yes, and with the body positioned on the bed the way it was, perhaps no one noticed the hole in the wall.”
?“Do you think the technicians missed it?” I wondered.
?“I’m not sure, but they did miss the casing,” she said with a nod. “Now if we only knew the caliber of the bullet.”
?I held up the casing and examined it in the light.
?“You’ve gone pale, Mark.” Sheryl had concern in her voice. “What is it?”
?“I am very familiar with this caliber,” I whispered. “It’s a nine millimeter.”
?“How do you know that?”
?“It’s the same caliber as the gun I own.”
14. Errata
Sheryl Homes
?It was past two in the morning when we opened the door to Mark’s condo.
?We ended our examination of the crime scene and hastily grabbed a cab uptown. I decided that Mark should hold onto the bullet casing, as it would be wiser to not leave any evidence that might point to him. After all, we could always give it to DeStadler later.
?“There’s just one problem,” Mark mentioned quietly in the back of the cab so the driver wouldn't hear. “It’s called withholding evidence.”
?“Someone has attempted to implicate us. The last thing we should do is help them.”
However, I did run through a mental list of crimes we’d committed by going to Randall’s apartment, even though I had the keys.
?The cab dropped us off on West End Avenue. We went into the building, Mark going to the sealed outer door and opening it with keys. Once inside, we rode the elevator to the 12th floor.
?Once Mark got the three locks on his apartment door open, I followed him into his bedroom. In my defense, I didn’t know it was a bedroom until we got in there and I saw the bed. Whereupon I froze, as numerous thoughts ran through my head. Is he going to make a pass? Do I want him to? Will I be insulted if he doesn’t?
?I relaxed when he moved to a bedside table and quickly removed a handgun that was still in its holster. He slipped it out and ejected the magazine from the bottom of the pistol grip.
?“That’s curious,” Mark noted.
?“What?” I asked.
?“I don’t keep the gun loaded. I leave the magazine separate in the drawer with the pistol. If someone broke into my apartment, I can load it even in the dark, but I’ve been trained not to leave it loaded.”
?“And that’s not the way you found it?”
?He pulled back the slide, put it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. “This gun has been fired…and recently. The last time I used it was…” He stopped.
?“When?” I insisted.
?“I have no idea when I last fired it. I cleaned it two—or was it three months ago? Maybe longer.”
?“But you haven’t fired it?” I asked. My notebook re-appeared in my hands as I jotted another sentence.
?“Not in a long time,” Mark considered and put it back in the holster and returned both to the bedside table, the magazine separate. He then took the shell casing and put it in the same drawer.
?“Not a good idea,” I pointed out. “If the police come here, you don’t want to make it that easy to find.”
