Fatal Judgment by Irene Hannon Page B

foil-wrapped plate from the hall floor, which he handed her. A bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper rested beside it, and he retrieved that as well before joining her inside.
    Trying not to be unnerved by the disconcerting juxtaposition of his gun in one hand and flowers in the other, Liz closed and bolted the door. He was sliding the small pistol into a concealed holster on his belt when she turned back.
    “Sorry again for the delay in opening the door.”
    “Don’t be. I’m glad you got a little sleep. What was that startled exclamation I heard?”
    She wrinkled her nose and reached down to rub her shin. “A close encounter with the coffee table. What’s this?” She hefted the plate in her hand. “And that?” She waved her other hand at the newspaper-wrapped bundle.
    “A little gift from my sister. I noticed the pots of flowers at your house and the bouquet on your kitchen table, so I sweet-talked Alison into letting me raid her garden.”
    “They’re beautiful.” She took the generous, old-fashioned bouquet of roses, mums, zinnias, and feathery ferns from him. The aroma of the roses was like a balm to her soul, and she inhaled deeply.
    “She has a way with flowers. And with lasagna.” He tapped the foil-covered plate in her hand. “She made plenty and thought you might enjoy some. Have you had dinner?”
    “Not yet. And homemade lasagna sounds great. Much better than a frozen entree. Let me warm it up for a few minutes.”
    He followed her to the kitchen. After she put one of the two pieces of lasagna in the oven and set the timer, she scrounged up a pitcher that worked fine as a vase for the flowers.
    Moving aside the contents of her briefcase, she set the bouquet on the dining room table. “These really help warm the place up. Thank you. And please thank your sister.”
    “I’ll do that.” He motioned toward the living room. “Let’s talk for a minute. I have some news.”
    At his serious tone, a surge of adrenaline shot through her. “You found Alan?”
    “Yes.” He moved to the couch and gestured for her to sit.
    Liz complied, perching on the edge as he took a chair at right angles to her.
    “Your sister’s husband showed up at his house today about 5:00. The Springfield police had it under surveillance and moved in immediately. According to their report, he seemed taken aback by the news of his wife’s death and claims he had nothing to do with it.”
    “I didn’t expect him to admit his guilt.” Liz clenched her hands in her lap. “Does he have an alibi?”
    “Not one he can prove. He claims he went fishing for the weekend. Camped out on some property owned by a friend of his. But no one saw him there.”
    “What a surprise.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
    Twin furrows appeared on Jake’s brow. Resting his forearms on his thighs, he clasped his hands and leaned forward. “Here’s the thing, Liz. So far, nothing at the crime scene is linking him to your sister’s murder. The perpetrator left no trace evidence that we could find. And we’ve already run the prints the Springfield PD took of your brother-in-law. They don’t match any found at the house.”
    The meager contents of her stomach began to curdle. She knew what that meant.
    “You don’t have grounds to hold Alan for more than twenty-four hours, do you?”
    “No. But we’ll be keeping very close tabs on him. And my brother and I, along with an FBI agent, are going down to Springfield tomorrow to question him. He’s still our prime suspect. But we can’t bring charges without any evidence. You know that.”
    Liz tried to stay calm. Tried to be rational. But it took every ounce of her self-control to speak in a reasonable tone. “I don’t want him to get away with murder, Jake.”
    “He won’t. This case is being given the highest priority. We’ll solve it.”
    His words were steady. As was his gaze. She locked onto it, needing the strength she saw in his eyes. The only thing keeping her going was the