Intrusion Read Free

did.”
    “Not me,” Candy said. “Not my style, not the academic type. By the time Tommy graduated he was sick of school, too. Betts and Kai kept on going straight through law school.”
    “Back to basics, ladies.” Andrews uncrossed his legs. “Why did Mr. Yancey leave your company? He hooked up with this CYBER-MED firm a year ago. What was that all about?”
    My response was measured. Andrews hadn’t told us one thing yet. “I’m not sure of the details. Tommy was excited, said it was the wave of the future. Something about virtual care and enhanced communication. Frankly, I kind of tuned him out.”
    Andrews raised a furry brow. “I thought he was your dear friend, Mrs. Buckley.”
    I stammered a response. “Things were difficult then. My husband …”
    “Cut her some slack, Jack.” Candy’s voice dripped with contempt. “We all loved Kai. Besides, Tommy pulled out of Sweet Nothings last year. He wanted the cash, said he needed it for something big.”
    “Kai, my husband, offered him a loan instead. Everything was trending upward. We knew the business was bound to take off.” I sighed. “And it did. We’ve turned a profit three quarters in a row.”
    Andrews had a face as blank as slate. He shuffled his papers, spending an inordinate amount of time studying something. “Looks like you’re pretty well fixed,” he said, glancing around the room. “Commonwealth Ave is as good as it gets.”
    I was proud of my home, our home, but it didn’t define me. A shack would seem like a palace if Kai were alive.
    Anger flamed my face. “I fail to see what that has to do with my friend’s death.”
    He leaned forward. “His murder, Mrs. Buckley, don’t forget that. We have a witness who swears Mr. Yancey was targeted. This was no accident. That car hunted him.”
    Candy clutched her throat, uttering a strangled cry. “Why? Why would anyone hurt Tommy? Everybody loved him.”
    Waves of cynicism wafted out of Andrews. “You’d be surprised how often people tell me that. If victims were all so lovable, I’d be out of a job.”
    Francie Cohen gasped, ducked her head again and quickly recovered. Her time with Andrews would be short if she kept that up. Most homicide cops considered compassion a waste of time and energy unless it helped induce a confession.
    “Were you estranged from Mr. Yancey?” Andrews hurled that one at me.
    “Certainly not. He was family, best man at my wedding. We cared about each other.”
    Andrews shuffled papers again. Hadn’t that man ever heard of order? He patted a wing of white hair and smiled. “You forgave him then, I suppose.”
    I shivered. Scores of nature videos flashed through my mind. The helpless prey unable to escape. The relentless predator extending his claws.
    “He was there when your husband died, Mrs. Buckley. At least that’s what this report says. Cited for reckless conduct, almost charged by the authorities in New Hampshire.” Andrews tapped a cheap plastic pen on the arm of the wing chair. “He caused your husband’s death, didn’t he?”
    My throat closed. I swallowed, hoping to avoid a coughing spasm that would savage my carefully applied mascara. Candy saved the day by pressing a goblet of Pellegrino to my lips.
    “Here, Betts,” she said, “take a sip. Maybe we need our attorney.” She squeezed my shoulder, recalling too late that Kai had been our lawyer. “I thought you wanted our help. We can’t do that if you tromp all over us like the Gestapo.”
    For a petite, ultra - girly person, Candy stood ten feet tall when her hackles were raised. She gave Andrews a ferocious glare. “Now, can we have a civilized conversation or not?”
    I recovered quickly, fueled by an intense desire to kick Mark Andrews’ ass. He reminded me of every smug professor who’d eyed my breasts instead of appreciating my intellect. They’d changed their tune, and so would this guy.
    “Sorry for the lapse, Sergeant,” I said. “For the record, I never blamed