Cause for Murder by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

solid hours of concentration, they both flopped back in exhaustion.
    "I think I worked harder at that game than I did on the Parker's yard,” Sam said, pretending to wipe his brow. “I had to think about it. Shoveling dirt and pounding nails doesn't take much thought."
    Richard laughed. “You're right, this game is quite a challenge.” He left the room and returned with two more cans of soda. He sat down on the chair facing his friend, his expression somber. “I've been thinking about Maryann."
    Sam felt his stomach squeeze. “Yeah."
    "I don't trust her. I've thought about all the things you've said. You were right and I want to thank you for not telling me I'd be an idiot to fall for the girl. You made me see it for myself."
    Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He reached over and cuffed Richard's knee. “Good. I'm glad you saw through her. She uses people, then drops them like a hot potato."
    "When she wanted me to lie, I immediately knew she didn't respect me."
    "I'm glad you came to your senses before you got hurt."
    Richard rested his arms on his thighs. “Do you think she had anything to do with Burke's death?"
    Sam raked his fingers through his short blond hair. “Boy, that's a good question. Especially, now that we know Burke might have died over the Memorial Day weekend."
    "I think she has the guts to pull it off,” Richard said.
    "What makes you think so?"
    "Her eyes are like blank glass marbles and she shows no emotion in her face. Not even happiness. When she smiles, it's like she has to concentrate to make it happen.” He waved a hand in the air. “You know, it's not spontaneous."
    "You're right,” Sam said. “It seems for her, contentedness takes effort. Of course, if what she told me about Parker's abuse toward her is true, I can see why she'd have trouble communicating with people."
    Richard reached over and shut down the computer. “And it's a reason for her to kill him."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    Hawkman arrived home shortly after twelve thirty. When he pulled into the garage, he noticed Sam's bike, and felt relieved his son had gotten home safe and sound from Richard's, a feeling he hadn't experienced while the boy had been away at college. Seems when they're at school you don't worry about them. The human mind is a strange thing, he thought.
    He slipped quietly down the hall and into his bedroom. When his gaze drifted to Jennifer's form under the sheet, his heart raced. The moonlight coming through the sliding glass door played across her body. She lay on her side with one tanned leg exposed on top of the sheet. Her long brown hair draped across the pillow like a fan and glistened in the pale light.
    Dropping his clothes to the floor, he slid in beside her. When he scooted closer, he discovered she was naked. His hands roamed over her hips and up to her firm breast. She groaned and turned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
    "I told you not to wake me at two o'clock,” she said, nuzzling her face under his chin.
    "Oh, I didn't, it's only twelve thirty."
    "Well, that's even worse, because I'm more dangerous now than ever.” She nestled closer, running her hand over his back and down his buttocks.
    "I'm going to remember that,” he said, loving her every touch.
    Not being able to control himself for much longer, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately.
    Hawkman awoke early the next morning and glanced over at his beautiful wife. He smiled to himself as he gently tucked the sheet around her shoulders then slipped out of bed. That's some woman, he thought, grabbing his holster and eye-patch off the night stand, jeans off the chair, then quietly snatched a clean shirt out of the closet. Adjusting his eye-patch, he headed for Sam's bathroom, where he dressed.
    Meandering into the kitchen, he put on the coffee pot and thought about what he wanted to discuss with Detective Williams before visiting the Indian casinos. If he had a picture of Madukarahat, it might make finding him