Ricochet by Sandra Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

the neighborhood. This is some place, huh?”
    “What have we got?”
    “A thirty-eight straight through the heart. Frontal entry. Exit wound in the back. Death was instantaneous. Lots of blood, but, as shootings go, it was fairly neat.”
    To cover his discomposure, Duncan took the pair of latex gloves DeeDee passed him.
    “Can we have a look-see?” she asked.
    Brooks stepped aside and motioned them toward the end of the long foyer. “In the study.” As they walked, he glanced overhead. “I could send one of my kids to an Ivy League college for what that chandelier cost.”
    “Who else has been in there?” DeeDee asked.
    “The judge. First cops on the scene. Swore they didn’t touch anything. I waited on your crime scene boys, didn’t go in till they gave me the go-ahead. They’re still in there, gathering trace evidence and trying to get a name off the guy.”
    “
Guy
?” Duncan stopped in his tracks. “The shooter is in custody?”
    Dothan Brooks turned and looked at the two of them with perplexity. “Hasn’t anybody told y’all what happened here?”
    “Obviously not,” DeeDee replied.
    “The dead man in the study was an intruder,” he said. “Mrs. Laird shot him. She’s your shooter.”
    Movement at the top of the staircase drew their gazes upward. Elise Laird was making her way down the stairs followed by a policewoman in uniform. Sally Beale was as black as ebony and hard as steel. Her twin brother was a defensive lineman for the Green Bay Packers. Sally’s size alone made her physically imposing. It was coupled with a stern demeanor.
    But Duncan’s gaze was fixed on Elise Laird. Her face looked freshly scrubbed. Her pallor couldn’t be attributed to the glare of the gaudy chandelier, because even her lips appeared bloodless. Her features were composed, however, and her eyes were dry.
    She had killed a man, but she hadn’t cried over it.
    Her hair was secured with a rubber band at the back of her head. The ponytail looked mercilessly tight. She wore pink suede moccasins on her feet and was dressed in a pair of soft, worn blue jeans and a white sweater that looked like cashmere. With the outdoor temperature hovering around ninety degrees, the sweater seemed out of season. Duncan wondered if she felt chilled, and why.
    When she saw Duncan, she halted so suddenly that Officer Beale nearly ran into her. The pause was short-lived, but lasted long enough to be noticed by DeeDee, who gave him a sharp glance.
    When Elise reached the bottom step, her gaze locked with Duncan’s for several beats before it slid to DeeDee, who stepped forward and introduced herself. “Mrs. Laird, I’m Detective DeeDee Bowen. This is my partner, Detective Sergeant Duncan Hatcher. I think you two have met.”
    “Darling, did the shower make you feel better?” The judge came from the living room and quickly moved to his wife, placing his arm around her shoulders, touching her colorless cheek with the back of his finger. Only then did he acknowledge the rest of them. Without so much as a hello, he said, addressing the question to Duncan, “Why did they send you?”
    “You’ve got a dead man in your house.”
    “But you investigate homicides. This wasn’t a homicide, Detective Hatcher. My wife shot an intruder, whom she caught in the act of burglarizing my study, where I keep valuable collectibles. When she challenged him, he fired a pistol at her. She had no choice but to protect her own life.”
    Standard operating procedure was to keep the witnesses of a crime separate until each had been questioned, so that one couldn’t influence the other’s account in any way. A criminal court judge should know that.
    With consternation, Duncan said, “Thanks for the summary, Judge, but we would prefer to hear what happened directly from Mrs. Laird.”
    “She’s already given an account to these officers.” He nodded toward Beale and Crofton.
    “I talked to her first,” Crofton said. “It’s pretty much like he