Read Online Divine Justice by Cheryl Kaye Tardif - Free Book Online Page A

and what's not."
    "Would she have any reason to kill your husband?"
    Marilyn's eyes widened. "Is that what these questions are about? You think Deirdre killed Monty?" She smoothed her skirt with her hands. "My sister might be a bit of a pain, as sisters usually are, but she wouldn't know the first thing about killing someone. Except maybe herself."
    Jasi raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
    "Deirdre started smoking again, after being a non-smoker for nearly six years. I don't understand the attraction of poisoning yourself daily like that. She says she's trying to quit, but I'm not sure I believe her."
    "Is she under a lot of stress?"
    Marilyn shrugged. "I guess."
    "Stress can make people do terrible things."
    The woman chuckled. "Well, my sister didn't hate Monty that much. He was too good to her."
    "If she had anything to do with your husband's death, it could get ugly," Jasi warned.
    "Everything in Deirdre's life is ugly. At least, according to her. She's young, impetuous, immature, and she's always been rather messed up."
    "What does she do for a living?"
    "She's a research technician at PRC."
    Jasi tried to hide her surprise. "Paragon Research Corporation? You work together?"
    "It's a family project," Marilyn said with a shrug. "Daddy had no sons to follow in his footsteps, so I went to work for him eight years ago. He left me in charge when he died."
    "And your sister?"
    "Deirdre joined us about three years ago."
    "Do you get along with her?"
    Marilyn's mouth curved into a dry smile. "Like sisters."
    Or brothers…
    With startling clarity, Jasi pictured her brother Brady and his constant struggle to gain Pop's approval.
    Maybe Deirdre wanted to get back at her sister, make her pay for taking away Daddy's attention and approval. Maybe she was so jealous of Marilyn, who seemed to have it all, that she thought she'd take something away, make her suffer.
    Did Deirdre kill Monty Winkler?
    Jasi gave her new partner a quick nod. Your turn.
    Natassia leaned forward. "It isn't easy to lose a parent, and I can only imagine what it must be like to lose a husband."
    "I don't even remember the last thing I said to Monty."
    "I'm sure he knew you loved him."
    Jasi had no idea if her partner's words were true. But she did know one thing. It didn't really matter what Marilyn Winkler had said to her husband on his last day on earth.
    Words were never enough.

8
     
    Using the guise of needing a testimonial release form signed, Natassia sat down beside Marilyn. "Just sign at the bottom, please."
    Marilyn obeyed. "Monty was everything to me."
    Natassia reached for her hand and patted it gently. The caring part of her felt for the woman, but the PSI part wanted only the truth. She closed her eyes briefly when Marilyn turned her face away. She could feel the woman's energy. It radiated with a low hum. Marilyn was exhausted, unfocused, confused.
    Within seconds, Natassia was inside. She was Marilyn.
     
    "We have to talk, Monty."
    A mirror reflected Marilyn Winkler's angry face.
    Her husband's eyes burned with anger. "Can't you see I'm busy?" A hand waved across his empty desk.
    "What are you busy with?" Tears welled in her eyes and her throat burned. "Or maybe I should ask…who are you busy with?"
    He must be seeing someone again. She knew it.
    The phone rang, but Monty ignored it. It rang a second time and she was about to tell him to pick up the damned thing, but the ringing stopped.
    "For God's sake, tell me who she is," she begged.
    "Not this again. Marilyn, I'm waiting for a call."
    She turned away just as the phone rang.
    This time Monty picked it up. He listened for a minute, then in a perfectly calm voice said, "Yes...I understand." Without another word, he hung up.
    "I'm not going to stand here and be made a fool of while you go off gallivanting with some slut," she said.
    He smiled as if he hadn't heard her. "I have to go, dear. We'll talk when I get home." Whistling a tune, he shrugged on his jacket.
    "Maybe you shouldn't come