Ozarks Double Homicide by Maggie Wells

Author:Maggie Wells
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-03-03T21:05:25+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Ethan stepped up behind Michelle and leaned in to catch a glimpse of what the others were staring at, transfixed. A dull grey handgun lay on the thick Aubusson carpet, its barrel pointed directly at the feet of Kayla Powers. Michelle stared at the weapon, incredulity written all over her face. He couldn’t blame her. It was as if her client had been chosen in some bizarre game of spin the bottle.

“Well, I’ll be,” the sheriff said under his breath.

“Nah,” Ethan answered softly. “Too obvious.”

Michelle lifted her head as if sensing danger, then turned to look at him. Before she could say anything, he asked, “Mrs. Powers, to your knowledge did your husband own a handgun?”

Kayla stared at the gun, her eyes wide. “Yes,” she whispered at last. “Ty owned a number of guns. I know he kept a handgun at the house. He has hunting rifles, a crossbow...” She looked up, her brow puckered in confusion. “Do those count?” Then, as if she’d caught herself as soon as the words escape, shook her head. “No. Yes. Of course. He has all the usual array of hunting equipment. As I’m sure you saw when you searched the house and garage.”

Sheriff Stenton nodded. “Yes, and we did catalog the gun kept in the wall safe you indicated in the master suite.”

“Do you have any idea if this particular gun might have been a part of your husband’s collection?” Ethan persisted.

Kayla shrugged. “He could have kept one here for all I know.” She lifted her hands palm up in a gesture of futility. “I don’t know why he would, but he could have.”

Out of the corner of his eye Ethan saw Harold Dennis flex his knees as if to stoop down for a better look at the gun.

“Don’t move,” Ethan ordered in such a commanding tone the older man immediately froze in place. “I mean, you can stand up but please, everybody back away from the weapon. We don’t know if it’s secured.”

Satisfied the assembled were following directions, Ethan stepped past Michelle and braced a foot on either side of the handgun and stared down at it. “Looks to be a semiautomatic,” he called out to the sheriff, who’d worked his way past the others. Squatting down, he cocked his head. “No magazine in it. Do you have any gloves on you?”

The older man unsnapped one of the many compartments on his utility belt and extracted a pair of purple latex gloves. “Got a bag, too,” he said as he handed over the gloves. He pulled out a small square of clear plastic and unfolded it to reveal a startlingly large evidence bag.

“Thank you,” Ethan said as he took the proffered gloves and bag. “I’ll need a pen or something to lift it.” He shifted on his haunches, dropping one knee beside the weapon in order to pull on the gloves. Aware of the rapt attention from his audience, he called out, “I’d appreciate it if everyone could move to the other side of the room, but nobody leave.

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