SEE HIM DIE by Debra Webb

thought about the question for a moment. “He didn’t speak. He shook the bathroom door. Twisted the knob. Just before my landlady arrived he sort of body slammed the door, but he never said anything.”
    “Why didn’t you mention the intruder to your landlady?”
    Julie’s heart stumbled. Why was he asking these questions? “When I came out of the bathroom, there was no one in the apartment. I guess…” She shrugged, her stomach roiling at the memories of that night. “I guess I was afraid I’d imagined… him.”
    He closed the folder. “Had you been drinking that night, Mrs. Barton?”
    Her throat went dry. “Yes, sir. I was upset so I had wine at the bar. My friend, Marie, brought me home.”
    He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Were you drunk, Mrs. Barton?”
    Her heart lurched into panic mode. “I… no. I…” She cleared her throat. “I had a couple of glasses…”
    “In fact,” he said, his tone firm, “you drank a significant amount and passed out in your friend’s office, didn’t you?”
    “I hadn’t been sleeping very well.” She shifted in her chair in a futile effort to get comfortable. “I was tired. I fell asleep. Yes.”
    “You and Mr. Barton were having marital problems, were you not?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You had a very public disagreement on Friday night in your friend’s bar.”
    She nodded. “We did.”
    “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
    Struggling to stay calm, she recounted the way Austin brought his new girlfriend to the bar and picked a fight. Julie kept her final words to Austin to herself. No need to share that part.
    The lieutenant listened and then appeared to take a moment to digest what she’d told him. “Did you say,” he opened his folder once more, “that you’d see him in hell before you’d sign the divorce papers without a proper settlement?”
    Julie nodded. “Yes, sir, I did. I was angry.”
    “Then you drank a bottle of wine and went home, is that correct?”
    Wait. “No. It didn’t happen like that. Several hours passed before I went home.” Was he trying to make her look guilty? Maybe she did need an attorney.
    “Here’s what I know.” He held her gaze, his face unreadable. “You and your husband argued. You were very unhappy about the prenuptial agreement you signed before you married. You drank too much and then went home and found his body.” When Julie would have defended herself, he held up his hand for her to wait. “You never mentioned an intruder when you spoke with your landlady who stated that it took her multiple attempts to get you to the door. Your bloody hand and finger prints are all over the apartment.” He shook his head slowly from side to side. “Do you see how this looks, Mrs. Barton?”
    Julie’s body started to shake. She tried to keep herself still but she couldn’t. “When I spoke to my landlady I hadn’t found his… body. I didn’t know.”
    He smirked. “We have motive,” he held up his thumb, “we have opportunity,” he held up his index finger. “All we need is the murder weapon.”
    Dear God. He really was suggesting she had murdered Austin! “I didn’t do it. What about Barbie—the woman Austin left with Friday night? Have you questioned her?”
    “She has an airtight alibi. Two witnesses confirmed that Mr. Barton dropped her off at her apartment shortly after midnight.”
    How convenient. Fury seared away some of the fear. “I did not kill Austin.”
    Cannon opened the folder once more and removed a paper from it. “According to this receipt,” he turned the page toward her and tapped it, “you purchased a Beretta nine millimeter one week ago. Do you know what caliber weapon killed your husband, Mrs. Barton?”
    A new kind of terror exploded in her chest. She shook her head in answer to his question.
    “Nine millimeter.”
    Her heart sank. “It wasn’t me. I’ve never even fired a weapon.” The memory of her hands being swabbed that night