Booley considered that, chewing on his lower lip as he did so. e1yde O'Dell, the coroner, had been doing his job for just about as long as Booley had been doing his, and was damn good at guessing the time of death. He had both the experience and the knack for adding the degree of rigor with the temperature factor and coming up with pretty close to the right answer. Clyde had put the time of Jessie's death at "Oh, ten o'clock or thereabouts," with a rocking motion of his hand to indicate the actual time could slip either way. Eight o'clock was a mite early, and though it was still within the realm of possibility, that did throw a bit of doubt into the mix. He had to make damn sure of his case before he presented it to the county prosecutor, because old Simmons was too slick a politician to take on a case involving the Davenports and Tallants unless he was sure he could make it stick.
"Did anyone hear a car or anything later on? Did Webb maybe come back?"
"I didn't hear anything," Harlan said.
"I didn't either," Gloria confirmed.
"You'd have to be driving a transfer truck before we could hear it in here, unless maybe we were in bed and the balcony doors were open."
Lucinda rubbed her eyes. Booley had the feeling she wished her sister and brother-in-law would shut the hell up.
"We can't normally hear anyone driving up," she said.
"The house is very well insulated, and the shrubbery deadens the sound, too."
"So he could have returned and you wouldn't necessarily have known it."
Lucinda opened her mouth, then closed it without replying. The answer was obvious. The upstairs balcony that circled the huge, elegant old house was accessible from the outside stairs on Webb and Jessie's side of the house. Moreover, each bedroom had double French doors that opened onto the balcony; it would have been ridiculously easy for anyone to go up those stairs and enter the bedroom without anyone else in the house seeing them. From a security standpoint, Davencourt was a nightmare.
Well, maybe Loyal had heard something. His apartment in the stables probably wasn't as soundproof as this massive old house.
Yvonne left Roanna's side and came to stand right in front of Booley.
"I heard what you've been saying," she said quietly, her tone even despite the way her green eyes were boring a hole in him.
"You're barking up the wrong tree, Booley Watts. My son didn't kill Jessie. No matter how mad he was, he wouldn't have hurt her."
"Under normal circumstances, I'd agree with you," Booley replied.
"But she was threatening to have Lucinda cut him out of her will, and we all know what Davencourt means to-" "Bullshit," Yvonne said firmly, ignoring the way Gloria's mouth tightened like a prune.
"Webb wouldn't believe that for a second. Jessie always exaggerated when she was mad."
Booley looked at Lucinda. She wiped her eyes and said faintly, "No, I would never have disinherited him."
"Even if they divorced?" he pressed.
Her lips trembled.
"No. Davencourt needs him."
Well, that undercut a damn good motive, Booley thought. He wasn't exactly sorry. He would hate like hell to have to arrest Webb Tallant. He'd do it, if he could build a strong enough case, but he'd hate it.
At that moment a flurry of voices came from the front entrance, and they all recognized Webb's deep voice as he said something curt to one of the deputies. Every head in the room, except Roanna's, swiveled to watch as he strode into the room, flanked by two deputies.
"I want to see her," he said sharply.
"I want to see my wife."
Booley got to his feet.
"I'm sorry about this, Webb," he said, his voice as tired as he felt.
"But we need to ask you some questions."
Chapter 6
Jessie was dead.
They hadn't let him see her, and he desperately needed to, because until he saw it for a fact himself, Webb found it impossible to truly believe it. He felt disoriented, unable to sort out his thoughts or feelings because so many of them were contradictory. When Jessie had yelled at
"Did anyone hear a car or anything later on? Did Webb maybe come back?"
"I didn't hear anything," Harlan said.
"I didn't either," Gloria confirmed.
"You'd have to be driving a transfer truck before we could hear it in here, unless maybe we were in bed and the balcony doors were open."
Lucinda rubbed her eyes. Booley had the feeling she wished her sister and brother-in-law would shut the hell up.
"We can't normally hear anyone driving up," she said.
"The house is very well insulated, and the shrubbery deadens the sound, too."
"So he could have returned and you wouldn't necessarily have known it."
Lucinda opened her mouth, then closed it without replying. The answer was obvious. The upstairs balcony that circled the huge, elegant old house was accessible from the outside stairs on Webb and Jessie's side of the house. Moreover, each bedroom had double French doors that opened onto the balcony; it would have been ridiculously easy for anyone to go up those stairs and enter the bedroom without anyone else in the house seeing them. From a security standpoint, Davencourt was a nightmare.
Well, maybe Loyal had heard something. His apartment in the stables probably wasn't as soundproof as this massive old house.
Yvonne left Roanna's side and came to stand right in front of Booley.
"I heard what you've been saying," she said quietly, her tone even despite the way her green eyes were boring a hole in him.
"You're barking up the wrong tree, Booley Watts. My son didn't kill Jessie. No matter how mad he was, he wouldn't have hurt her."
"Under normal circumstances, I'd agree with you," Booley replied.
"But she was threatening to have Lucinda cut him out of her will, and we all know what Davencourt means to-" "Bullshit," Yvonne said firmly, ignoring the way Gloria's mouth tightened like a prune.
"Webb wouldn't believe that for a second. Jessie always exaggerated when she was mad."
Booley looked at Lucinda. She wiped her eyes and said faintly, "No, I would never have disinherited him."
"Even if they divorced?" he pressed.
Her lips trembled.
"No. Davencourt needs him."
Well, that undercut a damn good motive, Booley thought. He wasn't exactly sorry. He would hate like hell to have to arrest Webb Tallant. He'd do it, if he could build a strong enough case, but he'd hate it.
At that moment a flurry of voices came from the front entrance, and they all recognized Webb's deep voice as he said something curt to one of the deputies. Every head in the room, except Roanna's, swiveled to watch as he strode into the room, flanked by two deputies.
"I want to see her," he said sharply.
"I want to see my wife."
Booley got to his feet.
"I'm sorry about this, Webb," he said, his voice as tired as he felt.
"But we need to ask you some questions."
Chapter 6
Jessie was dead.
They hadn't let him see her, and he desperately needed to, because until he saw it for a fact himself, Webb found it impossible to truly believe it. He felt disoriented, unable to sort out his thoughts or feelings because so many of them were contradictory. When Jessie had yelled at
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