Read Online Big Easy Murder (The Peyton Clark Series Book 3) by H. P. Mallory - Free Book Online Page B

wearing over myriad petticoats. It felt as if I still had it on. So I was inside Adele’s body in the vision! It was just as I’d suspected.
    I shook the memory off and focused on collecting all of the facts again. Finally, it seemed they were starting to give me a more complete picture of the situation. “Is that all you can remember? Waking up and finding Adele crumpled in the corner? And was she already deceased at that point?”
    “Yes, she was,” he answered in an audibly constricted tone. “And, yes, that’s all I can remember about the moment I woke up and found her.”
    “Was there anyone else in the house with you?”
    He shook his head. “That was my first thought too. As soon as I realized Adele was no longer with me, I immediately checked every room in the house. I was intent on finding the man who hurt my wife.”
    “And did you ever call the police?” I asked.
    He nodded immediately. “Yes, of course! After I checked the house, I called the police. Perhaps it was not the right order of events, but my mind at the time was a jumbled mess of thoughts. I doubt I could have tied my own shoes if you’d asked me.”
    “I understand,” I replied with a heartfelt sigh. “And what happened then?”
    He dropped his attention to the edges of the floor where the travertine stone met the wall. “The police were there instantly. They questioned me over and over again, trying to piece together my story, I suppose.” He glanced up at me with a sad smile. “It certainly doesn’t sound like a particularly convincing one, does it?” He sighed and shook his head, as if answering his own question. “I just couldn’t remember anything leading up to that point. I can’t now, and I couldn’t then. I couldn’t even recall getting into my bed. Or if Adele was with me the night before. The police asked if I were a drinkin’ man, and even though I do enjoy a libation or two in the evening, alcohol certainly couldn’t account for my clouded mind. I couldn’t remember a single thing.”
    “So what did the police think happened?”
    He placed the remainder of his sandwich back on the plate and cleared his throat before facing me. “Well, they thought I was the one who did it, of course,” he nodded as if he couldn’t blame them. “From the looks of it and all the circumstantial evidence, it made sense. I was the only one in the house and there was no forcible entry or exit.”
    He had no idea how much it made sense, but I was starting to loathe my role as the one to tell him. Not when there was so much anguish in his eyes already.
    “No one, includin’ myself, could understand how I couldn’t remember anything,” he continued. “It didn’t sound like I was tellin’ the truth.”
    “The police didn’t believe you?”
    He frowned and started stirring the ice cubes around in the glass. “I believe they did at first, because they could see how frazzled I was. They said perhaps I’d gotten hit over the head and the blow affected my memory.”
    “That sounds plausible,” I offered.
    But he shook his head. “I went in for testin’ and there were no signs of trauma to my head, or my body. So that explanation was promptly eliminated.”
    “What happened next?”
    He shook his head and suddenly looked baffled. “Nothing.”
    “Nothing?” I asked, unable to mask my surprise.
    “It shocked me too,” he answered with a nod. “One minute, they were hot on the path of accusin’ me o’ the crime, an’ the next, they dropped it, just like that,” he said as he snapped his fingers together.
    “They dropped the case against you?” I asked incredulously. I had to wonder if Guarda might have had something to do with that outcome. I wasn’t sure why she would have still needed Peter at that point, but maybe she had. Or maybe it was closer to the truth to say she had some sort of attachment to him? I guessed on that point, I would never know the truth.
    “Yes,” he answered while nodding emphatically.