Page 23 of Hell Hath No Fury

“Not until we have a chance to ask you a few questions,” Fergusson told her, then shifted to Winslow. “You, too.”

Matthias stood back and watched as Fergusson doled out assignments. He asked one of the uniforms to sit with the widow in her car and take a preliminary statement while he spoke with the foreman.

Pointing at Winslow, Fergusson said, “I’ll meet you at your pickup.” Once Winslow walked away, Fergusson faced Matthias. “I have a few questions for you, too, my friend.”

“We aren’t friends.” Matthias immediately regretted his sharp tone. While the statement was true, he needed to keep on Fergusson’s good side, at least until the trooper realized Emma wasn’t a viable suspect. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Fergusson came as close to smiling as he ever did. “Honeywell, you’re a crabby son of a bitch whether you’ve slept or not.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Fergusson’s eyes shifted. “That the girlfriend you mentioned?”

Matthias didn’t have to look. “Yeah.”

“I have some questions for her, too.”

Matthias didn’t respond.

Fergusson’s gaze slid back to Matthias. “Since you’re both going to be here a while, I could use an extra set of eyes and ears. My partner has a family thing today. He offered to leave his wife in the lurch, but I figured I could handle one case on my own.”

“You’re asking for my help?”

“Officially no, but I know you’re observant. That’s all I want you to do. Observe. Stay out of the way. If you notice anything I’ve missed, tell me. But I don’t want you questioning my witnesses.”

Matthias eyed him, wondering if Fergusson was aware of the irony of what he was asking. Still, the role of observer suited Matthias just fine. This whole thing with Sonny Jones felt off, and he wanted to know why as much as he wanted to keep Emma from falling victim to Trooper Fergusson’s blind spot.

“Well?”

Matthias nodded. “Deal.”

ChapterEight

Matthias noticed the puzzled look Winslow gave him, but the foreman didn’t question his close proximity as Fergusson began the interview.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Jones?”

“Almost a year. That’s how long he’s owned North Star. I’d worked for the previous owner for close to ten years before that.”

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Jones?”

“He left the site about five o’clock yesterday.”

“You were still here?”

“Yes, sir. I packed it in around six. That’s after I told the rest of the crew to go home, too. We’d been working since dawn.”

“What was the situation over there at that time?” Fergusson gestured toward the grave, from which the coroner was currently removing Jones’s body.

“There was no ‘situation’ then. Just a bare lot.”

“You didn’t see Mr. Jones later yesterday?”

“No, sir, I did not.”

Fergusson made a note and flipped the page. “How was Mr. Jones to work for?”

The question gave Winslow pause. “Okay, I guess. He had big plans to take the company places. As long as he kept me on, I was good with that.”