Frosted Shadow, a Toni Diamond Mystery: Toni Diamond Mysteries by Nancy Warren Page B

eleven.”
    “I’m going to have to take your knife.”
    “Yeah. Sure.” She looked at the thing as though she no longer wanted it anywhere near her. “I keep them sharp enough to…”
    He got a fresh paper bag from the kitchen and bagged the knife.
    Toni stayed with him as he left the kitchen. “Do you think that’s the—“
    “We don’t know anything until it’s tested.”
    She glanced at the bag then at him. “Was the murdered woman registered with the mystery conference? I heard she was.”
    “Your mother was right. You are nosy.”
    She sighed. “I know I am. I just…it seems so wrong for that young woman to be…”
    “I know.”
    They stood for a moment, and he thought that behind the façade of cosmetics and the pushy personality, there was a woman of real character peeking out at him.
    She gestured behind him. “Your partner’s looking for you.”
    “Gotta go.” Time to interview the husband.
    Gregory Neuman was a sloppy drunk.
    He answered the pounding on his hotel room door bleary eyed and stinking. His nose was running, his fly was open and he had to hang on to the doorframe to remain upright. They should drag him around to AA meetings as an exhibit, Luke thought. He’d do a lot to turn drinkers off alcohol.
    The guy pointed with a shaking finger to the Do Not Disturb sign lurching against the doorknob at the same approximate angle as the room’s occupant.
    “Mr. Neuman?”
    He belched and belatedly stuck a polite hand in front of his mouth. “Sorry about the noise last night. It was only a chair. I’ll pay for it.” His eyes started to water. “My wife left me. Can you give me a break? Can you do that?”
    Marciano and Henderson exchanged a glance. In his condition, nothing he said would be admissible in court. “May we come in?”
    He was already staggering back to the bed leaving the door wide open so they followed.
    The place stank. Neuman stank.
    He, or some one, had slept in both queen sized beds and it was obvious housekeeping hadn’t been in for a couple of days.
    “Looks like you’ve been having quite the pity party,” Henderson said, indicating the empties. Crumpled beer cans littered the floor along with a couple of empty wine bottles. An empty 26er of bourbon and another, half empty 26er sat on the vanity, a water glass about a third filled with booze beside it.
    A chair that had obviously once matched the desk under the window lay on its side, one of the legs snapped. A navy Gortex jacket sprawled on the floor – a garment more suited to Seattle rain than Texas heat – along with a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. There was no suitcase in view. It seemed as though Neuman had followed his wife on impulse, not even taking time to pack. He looked and smelled like he’d been wearing and sleeping in the same clothes for a few days.
    “Lost my wife,” he mumbled, slumping on the bed and rubbing his hands over his face. His wedding ring shone in the light from the bedside lamp. No daylight entered the room since the drapes were drawn tight.
    The ring was a typical man’s gold wedding band. No way they’d have gone with this for him and a silver Celtic ring for the bride. Looked like she’d moved on and he hadn’t.
    “What do you mean, you lost your wife?”
    “I told you. She’s leaving me.” He sniffed, rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom, Henderson closing in behind him, but his purpose was merely to grab a wad of toilet paper and wipe his nose and eyes. The tissue boxes were all empty.
    He weaved his way back to the bed and collapsed. “Sorry about the mess.” He scrubbed his hands over his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
    “Why the fresh grief? She filed for divorce a month ago.”
    “Thought she changed her mind.” He sniffled.
    “What are you doing in Dallas Mr. Neuman?”
    “Came to see Amy. Tell her she was making a mistake.” He eyed the water glass of bourbon. “Can I have a drink?”
    Marciano crossed to the bathroom,