Family Practice by Charlene Weir Read Free Book Online Page A

a gold curved-back chair by the fireplace. “Who shot her?”
    Susan sat in an identical chair on the other side of the fireplace. Parkhurst, making himself unobtrusive, leaned against a window ledge. Yancy stood stiffly in the archway. “Can you think of any reason why anyone would kill your wife?”
    Talmidge shook his head, not so much in response to her query as in an attempt to readjust his thinking.
    â€œWas anything bothering her? Did she mention any problems she was having? With the medical practice, for instance?”
    â€œSometimes she worries about her patients, but—she wouldn’t discuss anything like that with me.”
    â€œDid she come home for lunch?”
    â€œNo—” He stopped, then said, “I’m not sure. She may have. At times she did.”
    â€œYou weren’t here between twelve and one?”
    â€œUh—no. No, I wasn’t.”
    â€œWhere were you?”
    Ellen’s dark eyes were fixed on his face.
    â€œI was—” His manner seemed to sharpen, and he focused on Susan. “Why are you wasting all this time? Why aren’t you out finding who killed her?”
    Ellen got a startled look on her face and ticked a glance at Susan. Nothing slow about this one, Susan thought. She picked up right quick that we’re treating her brother-in-law as a suspect.
    â€œWe’re simply gathering information, Mr. Talmidge. You weren’t here this afternoon? Can you tell me where you were?”
    â€œI was here. Not at noon. I went—” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I’m thinking about a new car. I went to look—”
    Ellen got her very mobile little face well in hand, no expression at all, but she was paying close attention. It may have been her way of putting off acceptance; it may have been the realization that she was also going to come in for her share of suspicion.
    â€œWhat time did you get back?”
    â€œMaybe two or two-thirty. From then on I was here.”
    â€œBy yourself?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid your wife phone you at any time?”
    Talmidge shook his head.
    â€œMiss Barrington,” Parkhurst said, “did you get a call from your sister?”
    Ellen jumped as though she’d forgotten he was there. “Yes. At home. My house.”
    â€œWhat did she say?”
    â€œShe wanted me here this evening.”
    â€œJust you?” After Susan’s soft questions, Parkhurst sounded harsh and accusing.
    â€œNo. Everybody.”
    â€œEverybody being?”
    â€œWillis and Marlitta and Carl.”
    â€œWhy did she ask you to come here?” Susan took over the questioning again.
    â€œSomething that needed to be discussed.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œShe said we’d discuss it this evening. She had patients.”
    â€œNo idea what this was about?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhere were you this afternoon?”
    â€œMy place.” Ellen explained where she lived and told them about the plumbing. “I just got here a little while ago.”
    â€œMr. Talmidge, do you know what this was about?”
    â€œNo. I didn’t even know she’d called them.”
    â€œDoes either of you own a gun?”
    Talmidge said no, in a somewhat bewildered way. Ellen went totally still; when Parkhurst repeated the question, she shook her head.
    â€œMr. Talmidge,” Susan said, “we need you to make a positive identification. If you feel up to it, Officer Yancy will take you to the hospital.”
    He nodded.
    *   *   *
    Susan left Parkhurst to execute the search warrant. They were looking for the murder weapon; a handgun was small enough to enable them to search virtually everywhere in the house, grounds, and outbuildings. She was headed for Brookvale Hospital to meet Jen’s mother.
    Doubts nagged at the edges of her mind when she slid the Fiat into a parking space. Cops needed to stay objective, otherwise they