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She was dead tired by the time she walked out of his office and out onto the street. Both physically and emotionally drained. It was almost three thirty by the time they got back to the station house and there was still tons of work to be done.

She looked over her notes at her desk as she ate a stale tuna salad sandwich from the deli at the grocery store and took sips from her bottle of lukewarm water. “Pete, did you get that list of people I asked you for?”

“Yes I did boss.” He tore off a sheet of paper from his notebook and walked over to drop it on her desk. “That’s it? Just the O’Rourkes, the housekeeper and the nanny?” She looked up at him skeptically.

“All I came up with so far. It seems the lady was a very private person just like her husband said. If she hung around with anyone else no one knew. Other than her charity and her husband’s partners at the bank there doesn’t seem to be anyone who she was close to.” He shrugged and walked back to his desk across from hers.

She looked down at the piece of paper again, thinking how sad it was if this were true. The woman she’d seen out and about town seemed like someone who’d been surrounded by friends and admiring people.

Even she had more friends and acquaintances than could fit in a thimble. “There’s no way this is it, but I guess it’s a good place to start.” She threw the rest of her unwanted sandwich in the trashcan beneath her desk and pushed her chair back to stand.

“Aw, what now? We just got…” He stopped belly aching at her glare. She guessed it was easy to understand his lackadaisical attitude seeing as this was the first murder investigation he would be working on. But she’d trained him well enough to know that he’d get the job done.

She was back on the street half an hour later, headed back out to the farm to question Mr. and Mrs. O’Rourke about the death of their friend. She’d already heard a few whispers just in the station house but she was sure the news would be all over town by sundown.

“I called the M.E. Pete, he won’t have anything for us until tomorrow but he did say it was hydrofluoric acid, a very strong concentration. It was that that he thinks caused a pulmonary edema.”

“A what now?”

“Plainly speaking it’s an excess of fluid in the lungs, but the thing is, you can buy this acid from any hardware store and it’s regularly used for household cleaning, in weaker concentrations of course. I’ll need you to get on that right away. Go around to all the local hardware stores here, and a couple of the surrounding towns.”

“And what will you be doing?”

“I’m heading back out to the farm to question Mr. and Mrs. O’Rourke, see if I can get some idea of who she may have known that’s not written down on that piece of paper. But first I think I should drop in at the Davis home and have a talk with the housekeeper and the nanny.”

She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and chewed as she headed to her police issue vehicle while officer Bailey headed to another that they kept in reserve. She wondered if the thing would even start as she put her car in gear and headed back out of town.

* * *

The Davises livedin an upscale part of town about a half an hour away from the O’Rourke farm. Their home was no less grand, another eighteenth century Georgian home, this one white with green shutters sitting on about three acres of land that was mostly lawn with a little manmade lake in the back.

Homes here could go for millions and were in high demand from out-of-towners looking for a change of life. She’d already done a run on their finances and was waiting for the information to come in, but so far there were no alarm bells ringing there.

As she exited the car she went over her earlier interview with the husband, trying to remember if there was anything he’d given away in his behavior but she hadn’t picked up anything from him, nothing of note anyway.

On her way out, she’d asked his assistant if he’d been there in the office when she clocked in this morning, and the woman had confirmed his claim that he showed up to work at the same time like clock work every day.

She closed the car door and made her way to the front door and rang the bell. She could hear voices coming from inside and came up short when the door was opened by the housekeeper and she saw the O’Rourke s sitting in the den with the bereaved husband.

He looked destroyed, that was the only word for it. If he was the one responsible he was a damn good actor. She fancies herself a very good judge of character; something that came in handy in her line of work, and unlike what’s popularly thought the husband didn’t seem like the culprit.

But it was too early to tell, so she didn’t let herself get tunnel vision. “Good evening everyone, it’s good that you’re here Mr. and Mrs. O’Rourke I was coming out to see you next. Mr. Davis I wonder if I may see your housekeeper and nanny?”

He gestured with the glass of amber liquid in his hand down the hallway where the woman she assumed was the housekeeper had just disappeared after letting her in. “You’ll find Nettie in the kitchen and Bridgette will be upstairs in the nursery with the kids.”

“Thank you!” She headed towards the kitchen looking at the family photos that lined one wall of the hallway on the way there. They looked like a happy family in every one, but she knew very well how people could hide their true inner feelings from the world. She’d been doing it for years. Hiding her discontent with life.

“Hello, Nettie is it? I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me.”

“Sure, but I’m in the middle of getting dinner started.” The older woman continued bustling around the kitchen going from the refrigerator to the stove and back before going to the island to chop vegetables.

“Why don’t you sit down Detective? Would you like something to drink, some water, a soda?”

“No thanks. So what time would you say Mrs. Davis left the house this morning?”

“About eight or a little before I think! Mr. Davis hadn’t been gone long, maybe a half an hour or so I think, his usual time.”

“And did she usually leave the house this early?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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