show me with this.” He handed her the ballpoint pen from his pocket.
“He put his arm back like this.” She demonstrated, bringing the pen up and back, as if about to throw it.
“Did he throw it, or even start to?”
“No. That was when my dad shot him.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Erin.” And that, Abner told himself as he switched off the recorder, was as good as he was going to get.
* * *
Tori gave Erin a hug and sent her out of the den, where the interview had taken place. “Go see if Bernice needs any help,” she said. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
Tori thought that Will would’ve been proud of their daughter, but one thing troubled her. When Erin indicated that the dead man hadn’t moved the knife forward to throw it, the sheriff ’s bland expression had undergone a subtle change—a narrowing of the eyes, a tightening of the lips. As a courtroom lawyer, she’d learned to read people, and she didn’t like what she’d seen.
Should she tell Will, or would that just worry him? She put the question aside as Will walked into the den, so tall and strong, and so totally in command that his presence seemed to fill the room. She didn’t have to be here, Tori reminded herself. They’d been divorced for eight years, and she was doing her best to move on. Meeting Drew had given her hope that she really could move on.
Will’s domineering ways had always made her a little crazy. Today was just one more reminder of that. But Will had gotten into this mess protecting their daughter. For that, she owed him.
The sheriff had excused himself to rush down the hall to the guest bathroom, giving Tori a moment alone with Will. He walked over to the armchair, where she sat perched on the edge; his broad-shouldered frame loomed above her. “How did Erin do?” he asked.
“She did us proud. Calm and cool, spoke right up—more than a match for the likes of Abner Sweeney.”
A smile twitched at one corner of his grimly set mouth. “At least we did one thing right, didn’t we?”
“We did.” And we did most other things wrong—my open defiance, Will’s siding with his father, and the last thing, the darkest thing, when he accused me of something that didn’t happen. Will never apologized; and I never forgave him.
“Will, let’s get started.” The sheriff bustled back into the den, took his seat, and turned on the recorder. Will sat down at the end of the sectional leather sofa. “I hope you won’t mind if I record your testimony. There’s going to be an inquest, and I want to make sure your version of what happened is accurate.”
Will shrugged. “Fine. It won’t be any different from what you heard last night. Tell me when to start.”
Tori listened while Will related the same story he’d told her. Abner stopped him from time to time to ask questions. Tori could tell the sheriff was probing for any detail that might conflict with what Erin had said. It was almost as if he was trying to build a case against Will. What she didn’t understand was why. There was no bad blood between the sheriff and the Tylers. And Abner was no longer running for the election he’d just won. What was driving him?
Partway through the session, Beau wandered into the den, took a seat, and leaned forward to listen. Only when Will had finished his story, which matched Erin’s, did he speak up.
“Sheriff, according to Will, the man said something about a package and money. The newscast I saw mentioned that the deputies found cocaine on his bike. Can we assume that Nick Tomescu was on his way to a drug deal, and that he mistook Will for his customer?”
Abner looked flustered. “We can’t assume anything,” he said.
“Did you question his sister?”
“I did. Stella was grieving, of course. She said she didn’t know anything about her brother’s activities. I’m inclined to believe her.”
“Of course.” Beau rolled his eyes in Tori’s direction. She responded with a subtle shake of her head. Stella Rawlins would never admit to being involved in anything. And she appeared to have the sheriff wrapped around her little finger.
Restless as a bull in the bucking chute, Will rose to his feet. “Are we finished, Sheriff? I need to get to work.”
“Just one more thing, Will,” the sheriff said. “Last night you told me you’d sent your daughter away because she hadn’t