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Kat stepped forward to get a better look at the man inside Imogene’s office, but Chief Kenny thwarted her progress when he scooted in front of her and slammed the door shut, nearly giving her a broken nose in the process. He spread his arms wide, eyeing the crowd that had started to press closer.
“Back up, everybody,” he boomed in that commanding voice of his. “I need all you folks to clear the area.”
Kat and Imogene glanced at each other before dutifully retreating a respectable distance away. A soft murmur traveled through the room as each of the guests did the same, everyone breaking off into small groups to trade information and speculation.
“Did you see who was in there?” Kat whispered to Imogene.
“I did,” Imogene replied. Thankfully, although her voice still quavered, she no longer seemed to be in danger of collapsing. “It’s Landon Tabernathy.”
“Tabernathy?” Kat echoed. “Any relation to Chief Kenny’s sister?”
“He’s Frieda’s husband.” Imogene shuddered. “Was her husband, I suppose I should say.”
As though they’d invoked her presence, Frieda Tabernathy herself dashed into view. Her eyes ricocheted from left to right until they landed on Chief Kenny. She rushed over to him, her brown curls resembling an electric force field against the backdrop of her crazed expression.
“Ken, is it true?” she screeched, grabbing his forearm. “Is Landon dead?”
A pained look spread across Chief Kenny’s face. “Looks that way, babe. I’m sorry.”
Frieda dropped to her knees. The anguished wail that ripped from her throat plunged the rest of the room into silence as everyone abandoned their whispering to gawk at Landon’s recent widow.
Chief Kenny crouched down and patted Frieda’s shoulder with one hand. The gesture looked awkward, as though brother and sister weren’t used to physical displays of affection. But Frieda was too caught up in her own grief to even acknowledge the police chief’s attempt to calm her.
Chief Kenny locked gazes with Imogene, flashing her a pleading look not dissimilar to the one Clover had sported while suffering through the indignity of Frieda’s baby talk. Without hesitation, Imogene swooped down to join the huddle, wrapping one arm around Frieda’s shoulders as she murmured softly in her ear.
A woman with a sleek brown bob and a saunter that was all hips sidled up to Kat. “What’s all the fuss about?”
Kat lifted her chin toward the office door. “A man is dead in there.”
“Dead?” The woman’s face went pale. She eyed the chickpea pinwheel in her hand as if it might be laced with poison. “From what?”
“I’m not sure.” Kat didn’t want to mention the pool of blood.
The woman frowned at Frieda. “I take it she found him?”
Frieda was now a sobbing mess despite Imogene’s attempts to soothe her. Her face was buried in her hands, but the tears leaked around them nonetheless. Bearing witness to her pain made Kat’s chest hurt.
“The man who died was her husband,” Kat said.
The woman stumbled backward, the pinwheel slipping through her fingers and landing soundlessly on the carpet. “Landon?” she squeaked. “Landon’s dead?”
“Yes.” Kat looked at her with a bit more interest. “Did you know him?”
The woman bobbed her head in slow motion, seeming incapable of speech.
“Marigold!” Imogene waved the woman over. “Come help comfort your sister.”
Kat regarded the brunette. “You’re Frieda’s sister?” But of course she was, Kat thought, wondering why she hadn’t noticed the resemblance between her and Frieda before. Both women shared the same high cheekbones and hourglass figure.
Marigold crouched down next to Frieda’s other side and set her palm on her knee. “Frieda, what can I do?”
Frieda’s hands fell away from her face. She blinked at her sister, as though it took her a moment to recognize her. “You can find Landon’s killer,” she said.
Marigold gasped. “His killer?” She looked at Chief Kenny. “Ken, Landon was murdered?”
Chief Kenny shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s up to the medical examiner to determine cause of death.”
“Don’t go all cop on me, Ken.” Marigold stood up and planted her hands on her hips. “Frieda has a right to answers.”
“And she’ll get them. You’ll just have to be patient.”
Frieda leaped to her feet and linked elbows with Marigold. Both sisters wore identical expressions of disapproval. Even with tears staining Frieda’s cheeks and a combined weight that was still no match for their brother’s, the pair looked like a force to be reckoned with. And, judging by the line of sweat popping out on his forehead, Chief Kenny thought so too.
A well-built Hispanic man rushed over to the police chief. “What can I do, Chief?”
Chief Kenny clapped the man on the shoulder, relief washing over his face. He positioned himself to better face the crowd, using the man as a sort of shield as he maneuvered around his sisters and turned his back on their twin glares. “All righty, folks, listen up. This here is Officer Raoul Leon. He’s gonna be taking your statements in the kitchen. Individually. Nobody’s allowed to leave the premises until Officer Leon gives you the go-ahead. Got it?”
Raoul straightened, his chest puffing out so much he nearly doubled in size.
“What about Andrew?” Kat asked Chief Kenny. “Why isn’t he interviewing us?”
“Detective Milhone will be in charge of supervising the crime scene technicians,” Chief Kenny said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Normally that would be my role, but I’m gonna step aside on this one.”
Frieda whipped toward him, causing Marigold, who still had her arm hooked through Frieda’s, to almost lose her balance.
“Step aside?” Frieda said, lurching toward the police chief. “Why?”
He squeezed her arm. “I’m too close to this one, babe. With Landon being my brother-in-law, it would be a conflict of interest for me to lead this investigation.”
“But you’re the most experienced cop here!” Frieda’s gaze skirted toward Raoul. She didn’t look impressed. “Is anyone else on the Cherry Hills force even qualified to handle a murder?”
Kat stepped forward, prepared to snap out a retort in Andrew’s defense, but Chief Kenny spoke before she could.
“Detective Milhone is top notch,” he said. “And Officer Leon here is one of the smartest guys on my force. They’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Frieda’s face turned red as she swiveled her gaze between Chief Kenny and Raoul Leon. If looks could kill, the Cherry Hills Police Department would have just lost two of their finest.
Raoul beckoned Frieda over with a wave of his arm. “Ma’am, if you’ll follow me, I’ll get this process started.”
Frieda scowled at Chief Kenny before trudging after Raoul. The police chief averted his eyes, almost as if he were afraid of his sister.
Kat jolted, that thought leading to another. Was it possible the police chief had removed himself from this case not because of his relationship to the deceased, but because of his relationship to Frieda?
Did Chief Kenny believe his sister had been the one to take her husband’s life?
