Love Can Be Murder Box Set by Bond Stephanie

Author:Bond, Stephanie [Bond, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: humorous romantic mysteries
Publisher: NeedtoRead Books
Published: 2012-11-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Remember to clean up the mess...

"WELL, MS. FRANCISCO," Detective Maynard said with a smile, "here we are again." Penny felt the gaze of everyone in the interview room—Maynard, Gloria Dalton, and Allyson Davis—upon her. Allyson stood, leaning against a wall, arms crossed over her chest. The smug look on the woman's angular face, combined with the greenish cast to her attorney's face, made the vise around Penny's chest tighten. Ridiculously, she wished that B.J. were in the room with her. A television on a roll-around stand sat in the corner of the room. On the table sat a brown paper bag marked Evidence: D. Black Homicide. Beneath the table, her knee began to bounce up and down.

"I'll tell you what you want to know," she said, her voice thready.

Allyson leaned forward. "Is that a confession?"

Penny frowned. "No, of course not."

Gloria put her hand on Penny's arm. "My client means that she's here voluntarily to answer your questions. She doesn't have anything to hide."

Maynard's mouth pressed into a flat line. "You weren't completely honest with us before, Ms. Francisco."

Penny balked. "I don't know what you mean."

"We found your fingerprints in the bedroom of Mr. Black's home."

"Considering that Penny used to live there," Gloria said, "it's only logical that her fingerprints are all over the house."

"But these fingerprints were on a photograph of Mr. Black and his girlfriend, and they contain the same type of glittery material that was on your hands last night."

Penny's lips parted in panic—she'd forgotten about the photograph. Damn that metallic makeup. How damaging (and pathetic) would it be to admit that she'd broken the photograph on purpose? "I...yes, I was in the bedroom." Moisture gathered on the nape of her neck. "When I walked by, I saw the picture frame had fallen off the dresser. I, um, picked it up and saw the glass was broken."

Maynard squinted. "So you didn't break the glass in a fit of rage?"

A fit of rage? In hindsight, it had been more like petty spite—which was even more humiliating. "No, I didn't break the photo in a fit of rage," she said, her voice stronger.

"So if you picked it up, why was it still on the floor when we found it?"

"I don't know," she said, getting the hang of lying.

"So you weren't upset with your ex-husband last night when you entered his house?"

"No," Penny replied.

Maynard picked up a remote control and aimed it at the television. The screen erupted in static fuzz, then a grainy black-and-white picture appeared, unrecognizable. Trees? A section of a house?

"What is this?" Gloria demanded.

"You'll see," Allyson said, the tone of her voice bordering on gleeful.

Suddenly something appeared on the screen—something moving. A person, walking, down a path. Wearing overalls, carrying a stick. "That's me," Penny murmured.

"Where?" Gloria asked.

"At the museum."

"What museum?"

"The voodoo museum next to Penny's store," Allyson offered. "She was trespassing."

Penny scoffed. "Is that what this is all about? I squeezed through an opening in the fence to deliver some mail that wound up in my box by mistake.

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