made certain that he
was in a very public place.
Barlow picked up a letter printed on the firm's stationary.
"I too have an alibi. In this letter is the name and phone number of the
manager of my country club. He can verify my alibi for last night. You'll
also find Mrs. Turner's alibi contacts on that sheet."
"Can those witnesses vouch for where she might have been at four
or five this morning?" Warwick asked.
"As a matter of fact one can vouch for her at that time. Her
sister and she were talking on the phone between three A.M .
and six A.M . Her sister lives in Australia. There
is also a maid who lives in the house who says she heard the women talking
until almost five."
Zack took the paper but didn't bother to read it. He'd call
all the names on both lists but already knew each contact would verify the
stories he'd been given.
Warwick picked up an engraved crystal paperweight off of Barlow's
desk. He tossed it between his hands. "How was the Turner marriage
overall? Happy? Tense?"
"I wasn't privy to their personal life until just minutes
ago," Barlow said, frowning at the paperweight in Warwick's hand.
"However, Jordan did tell me that she confided the details of her
troubled marriage to Lindsay O'Neil two weeks ago. Jordan said Ms.
O'Neil was quite angry and upset when Jordan refused to leave her
husband."
Zack bit back an oath. Lindsay had been holding out on him. "Why
would Mrs. Turner share that bit of information?"
"She said Harold's body was found behind Sanctuary, which,
if I'm not mistaken, is the shelter your wife oversees."
What kind of angle was Jordan Turner working?
"Did O'Neil and Jordan Turner have any other contact after
that meeting?" Warwick said.
The question was necessary but nevertheless annoyed Zack.
Barlow shook his head. "Mrs. Turner said that Ms. O'Neil
called her this afternoon."
Zack swallowed another oath. "And they talked about?"
"Mrs. Turner was concerned that Ms. O'Neil had killed
Harold," Barlow said.
"Did she have proof?" Zack asked.
"No."
Amused, Ronnie T. raised a finger. "What a minute. Lindsay
O'Neil was your wife, wasn't she, Detective Kier?"
Zack's jaw tightened. "She still is."
Ronnie T. cackled. "I thought she divorced your sorry ass a year
ago."
Warwick set the paperweight down, stepping between the two men.
"We'll want to interview Mrs. Turner again."
Barlow moved the paperweight out of Warwick's reach.
"We'll be happy to help in the investigation in any way."
"I'd be happy to ask my associates if anyone hated ole
Harold enough to kill him," Ronnie T. offered.
"The last thing I want is your help," Zack said. The
dealer's favors always had strings attached.
Ronnie T.'s smile didn't fade but his eyes hardened.
"Is my help too good for you now that you're sober, Detective
Kier?"
Zack got right in Ronnie T.'s face. "Stay out of the
investigation."
Ronnie T. laughed. "But I want to help."
Warwick nudged Zack. Zack reined in his temper and backed up.
"Neither of you leave town."
When Barlow and Ronnie T. both agreed, the two cops walked out of the
office. Zack pushed the elevator button. His temper seethed. The doors opened.
They got in. Neither spoke until they were outside by the car.
Warwick glared up at the building. "Ronnie T. really pisses you
off."
"I crossed paths with him during several narcotics investigations.
That million-dollar smile hides a ruthless heart." He'd tried
several times to supply Zack with drugs. Once after Lindsay had moved out,
he'd been tempted, but he'd refused, as always.
Zack's cell vibrated. He checked the number. Ayden. He flipped open his phone. "Kier."
"Get over to Sanctuary." Ayden's sharp voice jumped
through the phone. "Someone delivered Harold Turner's hand to
Lindsay."
The police had ordered Lindsay into the shelter's family room
across the hallway from her office. She'd been told to wait for the
detectives. She sat on the couch, her arms folded and her stomach knotted. She
tapped her foot, believing she was going
was in a very public place.
Barlow picked up a letter printed on the firm's stationary.
"I too have an alibi. In this letter is the name and phone number of the
manager of my country club. He can verify my alibi for last night. You'll
also find Mrs. Turner's alibi contacts on that sheet."
"Can those witnesses vouch for where she might have been at four
or five this morning?" Warwick asked.
"As a matter of fact one can vouch for her at that time. Her
sister and she were talking on the phone between three A.M .
and six A.M . Her sister lives in Australia. There
is also a maid who lives in the house who says she heard the women talking
until almost five."
Zack took the paper but didn't bother to read it. He'd call
all the names on both lists but already knew each contact would verify the
stories he'd been given.
Warwick picked up an engraved crystal paperweight off of Barlow's
desk. He tossed it between his hands. "How was the Turner marriage
overall? Happy? Tense?"
"I wasn't privy to their personal life until just minutes
ago," Barlow said, frowning at the paperweight in Warwick's hand.
"However, Jordan did tell me that she confided the details of her
troubled marriage to Lindsay O'Neil two weeks ago. Jordan said Ms.
O'Neil was quite angry and upset when Jordan refused to leave her
husband."
Zack bit back an oath. Lindsay had been holding out on him. "Why
would Mrs. Turner share that bit of information?"
"She said Harold's body was found behind Sanctuary, which,
if I'm not mistaken, is the shelter your wife oversees."
What kind of angle was Jordan Turner working?
"Did O'Neil and Jordan Turner have any other contact after
that meeting?" Warwick said.
The question was necessary but nevertheless annoyed Zack.
Barlow shook his head. "Mrs. Turner said that Ms. O'Neil
called her this afternoon."
Zack swallowed another oath. "And they talked about?"
"Mrs. Turner was concerned that Ms. O'Neil had killed
Harold," Barlow said.
"Did she have proof?" Zack asked.
"No."
Amused, Ronnie T. raised a finger. "What a minute. Lindsay
O'Neil was your wife, wasn't she, Detective Kier?"
Zack's jaw tightened. "She still is."
Ronnie T. cackled. "I thought she divorced your sorry ass a year
ago."
Warwick set the paperweight down, stepping between the two men.
"We'll want to interview Mrs. Turner again."
Barlow moved the paperweight out of Warwick's reach.
"We'll be happy to help in the investigation in any way."
"I'd be happy to ask my associates if anyone hated ole
Harold enough to kill him," Ronnie T. offered.
"The last thing I want is your help," Zack said. The
dealer's favors always had strings attached.
Ronnie T.'s smile didn't fade but his eyes hardened.
"Is my help too good for you now that you're sober, Detective
Kier?"
Zack got right in Ronnie T.'s face. "Stay out of the
investigation."
Ronnie T. laughed. "But I want to help."
Warwick nudged Zack. Zack reined in his temper and backed up.
"Neither of you leave town."
When Barlow and Ronnie T. both agreed, the two cops walked out of the
office. Zack pushed the elevator button. His temper seethed. The doors opened.
They got in. Neither spoke until they were outside by the car.
Warwick glared up at the building. "Ronnie T. really pisses you
off."
"I crossed paths with him during several narcotics investigations.
That million-dollar smile hides a ruthless heart." He'd tried
several times to supply Zack with drugs. Once after Lindsay had moved out,
he'd been tempted, but he'd refused, as always.
Zack's cell vibrated. He checked the number. Ayden. He flipped open his phone. "Kier."
"Get over to Sanctuary." Ayden's sharp voice jumped
through the phone. "Someone delivered Harold Turner's hand to
Lindsay."
The police had ordered Lindsay into the shelter's family room
across the hallway from her office. She'd been told to wait for the
detectives. She sat on the couch, her arms folded and her stomach knotted. She
tapped her foot, believing she was going
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