Best Defense Read Free

willing.”
    â€œWilling? What makes you think that? I’ve been picking up splinters in my butt just to pass the time of day. Anytime you’re ready, as long as you make it right now. Otherwise, I’m out of here.”
    He laid a small recorder on the table. “Do you mind if I tape it?”
    â€œWhatever,” I said, fluttering a hand. “It’s short and not so sweet. Let me know when to start t alking.”
    He flicked a button, then established the date, time, location, and our identities. “In your own words, Ms. Bowman, explain the events leading up to your discovery of the body and your subsequent actions.”
    I went through my story, being careful not to leave anything out. I wanted them to know everything I knew—which, in the telling, didn’t seem like all that much.
    After asking a couple of questions to clarify points he thought I missed, he turned the recorder off. He rubbed his hand over his face, a face that now seemed old and tired. It was like wrinkles had developed since he arrived at the house. “Thank you, Ms. Bowman. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
    â€œHold on,” I said. “You’re not getting off that easy. How’d she die? Are you arresting her husband? How about the maid? Any other bodies in the house?”
    He gave me a look filled with fatigue. “The M.E. says two gunshot wounds in the back. Probably one penetrated the heart. No, we’re not arresting her husband. No reason to. Third, someone strangled the maid. My best guess is that someone snuck up behind her with some sort of garrote. Ms. Hammonds and the maid appear to be the only victims.” He paused. “Now, if you’re satisfied, I still have hours of work to do.” He started down the steps of the gazebo, then stopped. “I envy you, Ms. Bowman. You can find a body and walk away. Public employees like me have to clean up the mess.”
    â€œWhat about me? Do I have to hang around any longer?”
    â€œNo, Ms. Bowman. In fact, I’d feel much better if you left.”
    A day that started on a high had collapsed into a heap of nothing. My client was dead, and no one except me thought her husband was a likely suspect. Plus, I had Bannon and Sargent in my life again. All I needed to top it off was one of my mom’s phone calls telling me of her premonitions. I climbed into my Toyota and backed out of the driveway.

two
    I drove aimlessly, nowhere to go, and the rest of the day to get there. The man I adored, Dr. David Rasmussen, was at a medical convention in Los Angeles. Four o’clock in Florida meant one o’clock there. Hours before I could talk to him. Besides, what would I tell him? Hey, honey, you see it’s like this. A wife hired me to follow her husband. I caught him with his honey. But before I could report to her, somebody killed her, and I’m the only one who thinks the husband is the logical suspect. Then it got worse. Bannon and Sargent caught the case. They haven’t changed—still don’t believe a word I say.
    No, that wouldn’t work. David already had doubts about us because of my profession. No need to encourage that attitude. After considering all the options, I figured going home was the best bet. My fridge was looking like a biological warfare lab—lots of green stuff growing, and I don’t mean broccoli or any of that other green stuff I had to eat as a child. I could clean it while hoping a new case came along. Or Sly Bergstrom landed a client who needed me.
    Sylvester Bergstrom was the senior partner at Bergstrom and Bergowitz. B&B represented major civil cases for insurance companies. I connected to them soon after moving from Dallas to South Florida. A letter of introduction and recommendation from one of the top firms in Texas got my toe in the door, but my job performance kept me there. Sly, as his friends called him, was a solid supporter as long as I