Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,45
of his detective character, Sherlock Homes.”
Marc’s jaw flinched. “And what might that be, Addie?”
“An acute observation of even the smallest, seemingly unimportant details at a crime scene can hold the key to unraveling the entire mystery, preventing the investigator from being misdirected by following other irrelevant or red-herring clues meant solely to take the investigation in the wrong direction.”
“What are you talking about?” Marc’s strangled voice rumbled in her ears. Obviously he was losing patience with her.
“It’s elementary reasoning and deduction. Since none of your photos show a woman’s size-eight footprints outside the window, it stands to reason that the fingernail was planted at the scene by someone who, not wanting to muddy their own shoes, stood on the gravel path running beside the house and tossed the nail below the window.”
Ryley stabbed her finger on a shot of the damaged exterior of the window frame. “It would be difficult, if not impossible, for the perpetrator to pry the window open from the footpath as depicted in these.”
“Very true, Detective.” Addie stressed her final word as she thumbed through the photos of the exterior scene. “However, if you’ll notice there are no footprints of any size or shape beneath the library window.” She sat back, crossing her arms over her heaving chest. “Curious, don’t you think?”
Ryley’s eyes held steadfast on Addie’s. “And what is to say that you didn’t go to great lengths to sweep away the tracks?”
“Because, there is one important detail missing from these photos. There is no indication that a branch or other object was used to rake over the wet soil to hide footprints. Besides . . .” Addie pushed her chair back, raised her leg, and thumped her left foot on the tabletop. “Do you see any sign of embedded soil in the tread of my sandal?”
“How are we to know those are the shoes you wore Wednesday evening?”
Addie dropped her foot to the floor with a thud and met Ryley’s gaze with one equally as penetrating. “Then I guess you’ll have to test them, plus every other pair of shoes I have. Here.” She kicked off her sandals and shoved them under the table with her foot toward the detectives. She gave Marc a saucy grin. “You might also want to examine my pink fluffy slippers since they’re what I was wearing Wednesday night, and perhaps you should also swab the bottom of my bare feet as they were most likely tucked into my bed at the time of my supposed cat-burgling adventure.”
Ryley choked back something between a snort and a gasp.
Marc’s lips slightly twisted at the corners as though he was willing himself not to laugh. “Just the shoes are fine.” The tips of his ears turned red as he bent over and scooped up her shoes into an evidence bag.
“But I think the most important piece of evidence you have regarding the window frame is this particular shot.” Addie pulled a photo from the pile in front of her. “Notice the extensive weathering around the wood scratches and indentations in the frame. None of these marks were made recently. Someone just took advantage of them being there and decided to plant my nail at the scene to make you think the two were recent and connected.” A sense of victory swept through her. “A perfect example of a red-herring clue meant to misdirect you.”
Ryley reached into her black case. “Then how do you explain your fingerprints all over this?” She shoved another evidence bag across the table.
“That’s the pry bar Brian used to open the library door.”
“Correct, and one he later reported as missing from his tool bag, and the same one we found in the bushes with your fingerprints all over it.”
“My prints are on it because he asked me to get it from his tool bag, then he had me hold it while he forced the study door open. You can ask Blake Edwards and half his staff. They were standing right there.”
“Did you have reason to go into his . . .” Ryley glanced down at her notepad “. . . tool bag later in the day?”
“No, I never saw him again after that.”
“So what you’re saying is that all this evidence is wrong. Yes?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Someone is trying to make it look like I did it. Someone is setting me up.”
There was a knock on the door. Marc opened it and came back with Addie’s phone in his hand. Addie glanced at the mirror. Whoever