“Or perhaps the suicide,” I said. As one, Baker and Carpenter gave me a look. “Hear me out,” I said hurriedly, and before they could interject, I continued. “Abbot McKenzie had no great love for Dalton Heath. Marchand leaves McKenzie … Continue reading →

“That’s interesting news indeed,” I said, sitting at the table, “the victim owning a weapon identical to the murder weapon.” I skewered Amber with a pointed look, or would have if she had been paying me any attention at all. … Continue reading →

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Dramatic, I admit, and it isn’t more than informed speculation, but it serves for the sake of the argument,” I said. “McKenzie had little to live for and one man the target of his … Continue reading →

That I wrote down with more excitement, though I kept it from my face and my voice. “Could you speak to his mental state?” “He’d thrown himself into his work for a few weeks,” replied Culpert. “Two years ago yesterday … Continue reading →

We crossed the street. “Might it not be wise,” I said, holding the door into the building for Amber, “to cast a wider net for gun dealers?” She shrugged. “Why do the extra work before we have a better idea? … Continue reading →

“We had an argument. Arguments,” Heath said. “For the last two months. Last week, she left to stay with family. My doorman knows my face. He’ll tell you I never left home.” “I suppose I’ll have to speak with him. … Continue reading →

Amber and Baker went in, and Heath stood, angry words on the tip of his tongue. Before he could bite them out, Amber spoke sharply: “Have a seat, Mr. Heath.” Taken aback by her tone, he did so almost automatically, … Continue reading →