happen?” Matt asked.
Shannon nodded, and her voice softened. “It was a car accident. Holly and I were in high school. I still remember the deputy coming to the door to tell my mother. His car came down the hill and slid off the embankment right before the guardrail starts. Mom never was the same after that.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Matt said.
“Thank you.” Shannon blinked tear-filled eyes at him.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Bree exhaled and silently cursed Deputy Oscar for telling Owen his wife had died by suicide. Owen had spread the misinformation to Shannon, and now Bree would have to correct it. “I have some news. Your sister’s death wasn’t suicide.”
Shock widened Shannon’s eyes. “What do you mean?”
Bree knew there was no way to soften the blow. “She was murdered.”
Shannon froze. “What? How?”
“We’re trying to establish the timeline now,” Bree said. “We’re hoping you can help.”
“But Owen said . . .” Shannon seemed confused.
Bree nodded. “It did appear as if suicide was a possibility last night, but the medical examiner issued a cause of death this afternoon.”
“I can’t believe it.” Shannon bit a thumbnail, her attention turned inward.
Bree continued. “Owen said he thought Holly was here with you over the weekend.”
Shannon’s mouth split in a bitter frown. “She usually came here when they had a big fight. I kept telling her not to go back to him, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Why did she?” Bree asked.
“She said she loved him.” Shannon sighed. “They have—had—a volatile relationship. They were either lovey-dovey or fighting. There was no in-between with them.” She looked away. “Last night I was so shocked I wasn’t thinking straight, but all day I’ve felt like the news had to be wrong. Now Owen’s voice keeps running through my head. He was too calm last night.”
Bree gave her a few seconds to elaborate, but she didn’t. “What do you think that means?”
Shannon lifted her gaze. Anger shone from her moist eyes. “That maybe he killed her.”
“Do you have any reason to believe he killed her?” Bree asked.
Shannon lifted a shoulder. “Not on purpose, but maybe by accident. When they fought, they fought. They didn’t have quiet, reasonable arguments. They had knock-down-drag-outs.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I once heard Owen say that he wouldn’t ever let her leave him. I’m not saying he’s cold-blooded or anything, just that he has a bad temper. But then, so did Holly.”
Matt leaned on his elbows. “Was Owen ever abusive toward your sister?”
Shannon flattened her lips in a thoughtful expression. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t have surprised me, especially—” She stopped speaking suddenly.
“Especially what?” Bree asked.
“Nothing.” Shannon’s gaze dropped.
Was she holding back information?
“You don’t know of any specific incident?” Bree asked. “Your sister never told you he hit her?”
“No.” Shannon shook her head.
Frustrated, Bree switched gears. “When was the last time you talked to Holly?”
“She came here on Thursday night,” Shannon said.
“What did you talk about?” Bree asked.
“We argued about Mom’s care.” Shannon closed her eyes.
“Was she particularly upset?” Bree shifted her position on the stool.
The dog growled at her, and Shannon stroked its ears. “We’re both upset every time we talk about Mom.”
“Who won this argument?” Matt asked.
“Neither of us. There is no win. Holly left still mad at me. She wants to transition Mom to hospice, and I don’t.” Shannon’s face flushed. “Mom isn’t ready to die.” Despite her strong words, she didn’t sound convinced.
Bree asked, “What does your mother want to do?”
“Mom’s been fighting really hard. More treatments could give her another six months. Maybe more.” Shannon didn’t truly answer the question. “She needs in-home nursing. She used up all the days allotted by her insurance. Plus, there are copays, equipment, and medicine that isn’t covered. Holly and I have been splitting the bills. Last month, the total was just over five thousand dollars.”
“And Holly paid half of that?” Bree remembered Owen claiming they’d paid $1,000.
“Yes, but not before she complained forever about it.” Shannon slapped a hand on the counter. The sudden noise startled the dog. “I’m sorry, Chicken.” She kissed the dog on the head and set it on the floor. It ran to a small bed in the corner. Lying down, the dog rested its head on the bolster and stared at Bree as if it was planning her demise.
Shannon continued. “This fight between Holly and Owen was all his fault. I know it. He’s been complaining about the cost, like money is more important than our mother’s life. Though I guess he has what