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“No, thanks,” the detectives chorused.
Henry took the lead. “Miss Markham, just to bring you up to date, a gun registered in your father’s name that we understand had been given to you was used in a murder.”
“Dan just told me,” she replied, lowering her gaze.
“Do you have any knowledge of who may have used your gun?”
“None. I haven’t used the gun since I went to the range to do target practice with my father. I assumed it was still in the safe.”
“Would you allow us to take the safe for processing?”
Heat flashed through Shelly, and she looked at Dan.
“You can give it to them. Where is it? I’ll get it.”
“In the hall closet, on the top shelf.”
Dan retrieved the gun safe, but Shelly stayed mute. She was compulsive about cleaning, and the safe had been thoroughly cleaned. The only fingerprints they’d find on it would be Dan’s and hers. But it was her safe, so it stood to reason it would have her prints on it. The absence of another’s prints might be a problem.
Keying in the combination while Henry wrote it down, Shelly slowly opened the lid.
“It’s empty, of course,” Shelly said. “I didn’t expect this.”
They asked more questions for which she was unable to give answers, shaking her head and saying, “I’m so sorry” and “I have no idea.”
Finally, Samantha asked, “Why did you break up with Alan? He said you just left him without explanation.”
Frowning, Shelly wished she could smash Alan in the face. “He’s deluded. He was never home. I can show you my phone for the text messages between us. It was constant, for months. Other areas of our relationship suffered. He’d basically lost interest in me. So now that I’ve humiliated myself, are you satisfied?”
“Miss Markham, that was never my intention. Thank you so much for helping us. We’ll get your safe back to you as soon as possible.”
Henry and Samantha got out of there as fast as they could.
“What’s your take on her?” Henry asked.
“Nothing, really. It was kind of nice to see her get riled up there at the end, because I was preparing to take her pulse. She is emotionless.”
“Yeah, I felt that, too. Hell hath no fury and all that.”
Leaning forward to put the key in the ignition, Samantha looked at Henry sidelong. “You think she did it?”
“Look, I’ve known Alan Stone for a long time and am not a fan. But he’s incapable of murdering anyone. There is just no way. He’s not smart enough to plan a murder, for one thing.”
“Ouch,” Samantha said.
“Yeah, and you didn’t hear it from me.”
“I like Alan,” Samantha said. “He’s easygoing, does his share, doesn’t make waves.”
“He’s also a terrible detective who allows evidence to slip through his fingers. If the man had anything to hide, I’m sure it will be exposed.”
His words were prophetic. As soon as Henry and Samantha arrived at the precinct, they found that Gary Chadwick had taped a typewritten note for Henry to the office door when he’d left for the evening.
There’s a present for you on your desk.
“Oh, crap. What now?” Henry said.
“Hurry up, dude!”
