Page 124 of Hell Hath No Fury

“And,” Lukan added, “because she knew how to play the role of a grieving widow. She had me convinced.”

Matthias, too, but he wasn’t going to tell them. Except he didn’t have to.

He caught Fergusson watching him, the sneer back on his lips. “She had you fooled, too. Just like Wendy Seager.” The trooper’s tone was low and taunting.

Matthias’d had about enough of Fergusson’s jibes.

“Who the hell is Wendy Seager?” Lukan asked.

“Do you want to tell him?” Fergusson asked. “Or should I?”

Matthias shot a glance at Lukan but then fixed his gaze on Fergusson. “She’s been dead for fifteen years, so I don’t see why you feel that case matters. You should be focused on who killed Sonny Jones.”

“Agreed,” Lukan said. “Do we want to talk to the widow now or start with her fresh in the morning?”

“I vote for tomorrow,” Fergusson said. “Let’s head back to the office and do some more digging into Ashley Jones’s past. Fran Goodwin claims Ashley never turned him in, but I want to know for certain if she ever filed a restraining order against her husband.”

Lukan opened his door. “I’ll check her hospital records. See if she’s ever been treated or admitted for anything that points to abuse.”

“What about you, Honeywell? You and your girlfriend heading back to Erie?”

“That’s the plan.” Matthias wasn’t going to get into the topic of Nell checking into drug and alcohol rehab in the morning. He hoped Emma would be able to trust her sister’s care with professionals and wouldn’t insist on sticking around.

Fergusson brought a hand to his forehead in a sloppy salute. “Safe travels.”

“Nice meeting you,” Lukan said, sounding a lot more sincere than his partner.

They climbed into the sedan and pulled out. Matthias slid into his Jeep and checked the time. He’d left Emma at the hospital with Eric and Nell hours ago. Surely, Nell had been discharged by now.

Matthias texted Emma to let her know he was headed to Eric’s house and would see her in a bit. Then he started the Jeep and backed out of Fran’s driveway.

* * *

Emma glanced at Ashley, who was staying politely focused on Nell’s sales pitch despite looking like she wished her uninvited guests would just leave already. Emma lowered her gaze to the floor again. She hadn’t noticed at first, but now that she was looking for it, she spotted a second divot. And a third. And a fourth. All positioned where a coffee table would have recently been.

Nell’s voice faded into the background chatter inside Emma’s mind. There had been a coffee table here. One that was now missing. For the last few days, she and Matthias had been in search of a missing piece of furniture, specifically glass, that had been removed. She took in the room’s other furnishings. The painted side tables had no glass in them but were not an identical pair either. If Ashley had furnished her house with secondhand items, they wouldn’t necessarily match.

Those sparkles may not have been shed from the toy pony.

Emma needed a closer look. Forcibly maintaining a passive face, she brought her gaze back to Ashley, who continued to listen obligingly to Nell. Emma needed to get Sonny’s widow out of the room. She coughed.

Ashley glanced at her, then back to Nell.

Emma coughed again into her elbow, feigning discomfort. “I’m sorry.” She continued to act as if she was choking. “I must’ve swallowed wrong.” More coughing. “Could I have a glass of water?”

Ashley uncurled her legs from beneath her and stood. “Sure,” she said flatly before disappearing into the kitchen.

Emma knew she could still hear from the other room, so she kept up the coughing act.

“Are you okay?” Nell asked.

“I’m fine,” Emma whispered. “Go after her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Go into the kitchen and keep her there.”

“But—”