Chapter Seven

Homicide Detectives, Sergeant Gabriel Sands and his partner, Isobel White, waited for the photographer and the fingerprint team to finish before moving closer to the body. They carefully avoided the gelling blood pool and the smeared handprint marring the floor near the crime scene. They tugged on their surgical gloves.

Isobel pointed with her pen. "Think that belongs to the killer? This will be a slam dunk if it does."

"When are you going to learn fate ain't that kind and stop being so optimistic? My guess—it belongs to the maid who found him. But we'll sort it out. Write down anything you see that looks out of place. Never know what might be important."

The sergeant and Isobel split up and canvassed the room taking notes as they walked. They would compare them later. Isobel made small detailed sketches in her pad. Gabe jotted down notes in a short hand only he understood. They looked up as the county coroner and a couple of members of the state forensic team entered the room.

"Okay, Isobel, time for the fun part. We get to go talk to the family and friends."

"Oh joy, Sergeant. You really know how to show a woman a good time." Isobel followed Gabriel from the room and down the long hallway. She respected this man and his dedication to the job. She'd learned more in her first three months on the job with him than while earning her Criminal Justice Degree. When his last partner retired with a bad heart, she'd jumped at the chance to work with him. That had been three years ago and they had turned into quite a team. Now, this murder of the son of the richest, most connected man in the state just might be the biggest case of her career.

Samuel Stevenson met Detective Sands at the parlor door. He extended his hand. "Hello, Gabriel. Glad you pulled this case." Then in a low voice he continued, "How about taking my statement and let me out of here? I've got a plane to catch. They're holding it for me, but I don't know for how much longer."

Gabriel patted the lieutenant governor on the shoulder. "Sorry, Sam, but this is going to take a while unless you want to confess right up front. Why don't you reschedule your flight until tomorrow and let us get all this taken care of?"

Stevenson stared into the sergeant's eyes, but saw not so much as a flicker of him relenting. Muttering a few curses, Sam stomped off to make a phone call.

The sergeant introduced himself and his partner to the group. Then he began to explain some of the procedures they would be following.

"I can tell you who did this, right now," Erica interrupted, her tone shrill and whiny. "It was her." She pointed toward Maribeth with a trembling finger. "I heard her threaten him. Now he...he's—" The woman broke off with a sob and covered her face with her hands.

Maribeth jumped up, outraged at the accusation. "What about you? You were going in as I left. You saw him after I did—"

"Ladies, please!" Gabriel stepped between them. "This isn't helping. Now, since you're so eager to talk, we'll take your statements first. Ms. Venture, won't you come with me? Isobel..." Gabe indicated Maribeth before attempting to lead the brunette from the room.

Erica refused. "I know my rights, sugar. I don't have to go anywhere alone with you. You got something to say to me, we do it here or you arrest me. Then my attorney will slap you silly with a false arrest charge." She crossed her arms and waited.

"Look, lady, I don't have time for games," Gabe snapped, his patience nonexistent with contrary women. He had a murder to solve. "You don't want to talk to me, fine. Call your attorney and sit over there out of the way to wait for him. Then you will answer my questions or we will go downtown." Gabe turned his attention to the men who first saw the body to begin his questioning.