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A few days had passed since Penelope had come back to us. She still slept most of the time. I always feared she wouldn’t open her eyes again. I couldn’t help it. But I tried to stay positive for her.
Kane was right.
She was the toughest person I knew.
“It’s indisputable proof,” Patrick continued as if Kane hadn’t spoken. “Except sometimes reports get contaminated.”
“What is your point?” Kane’s patience seemed to be nearing its end.
“The coroner was filling out two reports at the same time. You know they’re really overworked down there—”
“Whitley.”
“Michael Rhodes was killed at five thirtya.m.”
Kane tried to sit up, his face contorted in pain. He had files spread out on his bed, already overdoing it.
“In the morning?”
Patrick gave him an unimpressed look. “That’s what a.m. means.”
“Smart aleck.”
“How does that change the case?” I asked.
I hadn’t exactly forgotten about Michael Rhodes, but I’d put the situation at the back of my mind. Penelope was in no condition to defend herself, and it seemed as if we’d at least delayed having to deal with Mrs. Rhodes’s frivolous lawsuit.
“Well, all that video surveillance footage we have proving Penelope wasn’t there at the time of death is out the window.”
My stomach plummeted. Would she be a suspect again? Had she ever stopped? I’d been so consumed with nursing her and Kane back to health, I wasn’t sure.
Patrick put his hands behind his head. “I postulated if the time of death was incorrect, perhaps other pieces of the report were transposed too.”
“And?” Kane adjusted his bed so he had support in his sitting position.
“What do you know? They mixed up some other key facts. Like the nail marks around his neck.”
“Nail marks? There was nothing about that in the coroner’s report,” Kane said impatiently.
“Because he put it on the other report.” Patrick threw his hands up.
“We’ll send in a measurement of Penelope’s fingers and prove she didn’t kill him.” Kane shoved away one of the files in front of him. “Give me my phone. I’ll have someone down here in half an hour and we can be done with this mess.”
I picked up the files on his bed and stacked them out of his reach. He was doing too much. Though if he could clear Penelope’s name in half an hour, I’d let him.
“Already on it.But. . .” Patrick paused, looking back and forth between us.
“You are so dramatic,” Kane huffed.
“The boys in blue already paid Mrs. Rhodes a visit. Varko ever tell you what was in that safe deposit box?”
Kane’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red. “Yes.”
“So you know about the money and the property.” Patrick wiggled his foot. “We have so many cases going on, it’s hard to keep them straight.” He grinned.
I placed a hand on Kane’s arm. He appeared ready to launch off the bed.
“What happened when they visited Mrs. Rhodes?” I asked, trying to get him back on track.
