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these as soon as I can,” Durk said.
    Smart handed him back the photos. “Okay, Lambert. You can walk—for now. But cross this line again and you go straight to jail. Is that clear?”
    “Suppose Meghan wants something from here?” Durk asked. “It’s still her home.”
    “If Meghan needs anything from the apartment before we remove the barrier tape, I’ll get it for her,” Smart said.
    “Have it your way.” Either Smart didn’t like him on general principle or he thought Durk might not be totally innocent. For whatever reason, Smart was not going to make Durk’s involvement in this easy.
    No matter. Durk had no intention of backing out until someone was arrested and behind bars. He didn’t plan for that to be him.
    He took the pictures and left, thankful to get away from Smart and the memory-filled condo. Before he reached the hospital, his phone rang. This time it was his brother Tague.
    “You need to get back to the hospital, Durk. And make it fast. You’ve got big problems on your hands.”

Chapter Six
    “What’s wrong?” Durk fought the rising panic. “Is it Meghan? Are there complications?”
    “The problem is not with Meghan,” Tague assured him. “At least not yet.”
    “Then what is it?”
    “I was approaching the telemetry unit nurses’ station to see if I could find you when this woman showed up demanding to see Meghan.”
    Durk gave a low whistle. “Man, don’t scare me like that. The woman’s probably a friend of Meghan’s who just read or heard about the attack.”
    “She’s not sounding too friendly. She claims that Meghan killed her husband. I’d say she’s definitely here to make trouble.”
    “Did you call security?”
    “She was bordering on hysteria. I didn’t have the heart to have her thrown out or possibly arrested.”
    “You surely didn’t let her in to see Meghan?”
    “No. I persuaded her to come down to the hospital coffee shop with me and talk things through.”
    “What’s her story?”
    “She claims she’s Ben Conroe’s wife.”
    Damn. Durk had been so upset about Meghan that he hadn’t given any thought to Ben’s wife. He should have broken the news of her husband’s death to her instead of leaving it to the police. It might not have been nearly as cold coming from him.
    “Is she there by herself?” Durk asked.
    “Yeah. She told me her parents are driving over from Georgia, but they won’t be here until tonight.”
    “She must have friends or a pastor she can call to help her through this.”
    “She’s not too concerned about being here alone. All she wants to do is confront the woman she thinks is responsible for her husband’s death.”
    “She can’t go in and upset Meghan. That’s out of the question. Besides, at this point, Meghan won’t even know who she is.”
    “You’d better get back here and explain that to her. You know I’m allergic to hysterical women. They make me break out in hives.”
    “It’s strawberries that do that.”
    “Then Mary Nell Conroe must be wearing strawberry-scented perfume.”
    * * *
    D URK SPOTTED T AGUE , Mary Nell and his mother sitting together at a back table in the hospital coffee shop. He had no idea how Carolina had gotten dragged into the situation, but it was no doubt for the best.
    No one was better at providing a little TLC and understanding—or at forcing a person to deal with facts head-on—if that’s what she thought was needed.
    Mary Nell’s elbows were propped on the table and her hands were cradling her head. Durk quickly made his way to the table, pulled out a chair and joined them.
    “This is my son Durk,” Carolina said.
    Mary Nell lifted her head and stared at him warily, as if he were a wolf joining their group of nervous sheep. Her eyes were red and swollen and her hay-colored hair looked as if someone had twisted it into knots before loosening it to fly wild.
    “You’re the one who found Ben’s body,” she accused, her stare reproachful.
    “I went to Meghan’s