He walked to the door with the ME, who was pushing the squeaky gurney holding Junior’s body, the pair in deep discussion. At the door, the ME shook her head hard, and Ian glared at the woman, who was petite with a lush silvery head of hair that seemed to have a mind of its own.
What were they talking about? Her? Did Ian really think she’d murdered Junior? What did he think her motive might be? Junior hadn’t gotten a chance to explain about her parents. And the attack back in high school? That was in the past, and she’d come to grips with it. She didn’t like Junior, but she’d had to forgive him or it would’ve eaten away at her. She’d just told Ian that so he would know her heart and know she hadn’t come in here to kill Junior in revenge.
Her youth leader at church back in the day had urged Malone to report Junior, but it was hard enough living every day, waking up in the morning and wondering if something would change that day. Would her foster parents decide that was the day that she and Reed had to find a new living situation? That uncertainty did something to a person’s psyche, and she’d already had plenty of issues without stewing over Junior.
But now? Now it would all come out. It didn’t matter. She was a mature adult. She could handle it. Reed would be upset when he heard that she’d kept it quiet all these years, but he would support her.
But would Ian or would he just assume she was a killer until he’d proven otherwise?
When the doors closed after the ME, Ian spun and marched across the room toward Malone, purpose and determination in each step. His expression just as tight. By the time he reached her, his expression had flattened, and he looked mildly angry.
“Problem?” she asked.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He squatted in front of her. “I’m finished here.”
She took a long breath. “Which means now’s the time you either arrest me or not.”
“There’s no either. I have to arrest you.”
She’d expected him to respond that way, but having a man she’d once had a crush on arresting her for murder still cut her to the bone. “I need to ask a favor.”
“What?” His eyes narrowed.
“Your forensic people did a GSR test on my hands and will probably take my clothes to do the same thing.”
“Yeah, gunshot residue tests are typical in this kind of situation.”
“I held the weapon, so we know the tests will be positive. Doesn’t mean anything. I could even have residue from moving my own firearm from one purse to another. Or just by stepping near a gun when it was discharged because it lingers in the air.”
“Your point?” His tone deepened as if he was getting upset with her.
She paused to draw in a long breath. “I told you there was a shooter, and I can tell you the approximate location where he took the shots. He’ll have left GSR behind. Can you have the forensic team do a GSR test on the carpet in that area?”
He let out a long breath. “Not sure what you hope to accomplish there. You could’ve taken the shot from across the room and had plenty of time to run over to the body before I arrived. The test won’t tell me you didn’t fire the gun.”
She wanted to grit her teeth in frustration, but swallowed instead and tried not to snap at him. “But itwillconfirm the bullets were fired from a distance. That at least confirms what I’m telling you is possible.”
“I don’t need GSR for that. The ME will tell me if the gun was fired from a distance.” He looked like he wanted to sigh but stood instead. “Give me the exact location.”
Shocked that he’d agreed, she nodded that direction, and he strode that way until she called out to stop him in the right place. He waved over a forensic tech and gave him detailed instructions.
When he returned to her, she smiled at him. “One more favor. I’d like to call Reed.”
“Sorry. No can do.”
His negative response added salt to her open emotional wounds, but it wasn’t surprising. Her prosecutor days told her that if a detective thought the arrestee would ask the person called to mess with damning evidence, they often didn’t allow a phone call. Did he really think she would involve her brother in something illegal?
“I don’t normally do this,” Ian said. “But give me his number, and I’ll call him for you.”
Malone rattled off her brother’s phone number before Ian changed his mind. He tapped the screen on his phone and looked at the ground instead of her.
“Reed Rice?” Ian asked.
Malone heard her brother mutter a response.
“I’m with your sister.” Ian brought Reed up to date on the incident. “I’ll be taking her into custody, and we’ll determine if charges will be brought.”
“This is ludicrous. She would never shoot anyone.” Reed’s raised voice carried over to Malone. “I’ll have an attorney meet her there.”
