“At the country club.” Her tone softened, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, but Brantley noticed a steely determination behind them. “Which doesn’t surprise me, really. He loved that place. Spent more time there than he did at home.”
Bitter much?
“Did he go with his partners to the club? Were they friends outside of the office?”
“Good friends,” she confirmed. “They played golf every Monday morning, said it helped to clear their minds for the week ahead. It’s just”—she looked down into a box—“so sad. He won’t get to go to the club again.”
Brantley wondered if it was difficult for her to do that. To pretend she gave a shit, because he knew without a doubt, this woman was not a fan of her dead husband. That didn’t mean she’d killed him, but she certainly wasn’t losing sleep now that he wasn’t coming home.
“They found him…” She sobbed, sniffled. “They found him in the locker room at the club.”
“Did you actually see him there?” Reese inquired.
“What?” Mallory Jacobs’s eyes bounced back and forth between them.
“Were you a witness to his death, Mrs. Jacobs?”
“No. I just … I heard from … the … um … the police. They told me they found him there. In the locker room. He was suffocated.”
Brantley looked at Reese, waited to see if he had more questions. When he shook his head slightly, Brantley asked, “And you weren’t aware he was in town?”
Her answer was quick and curt. “No.”
“Where were you the night he died?” Reese asked.
“I was out with friends. We had dinner, then went to a movie. I’ve got the receipt and the ticket stub.”
Really fucking convenient.
“And Brian Wright? Where was his body found?”
Something passed in her eyes. “I … I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?” Reese frowned over at him. “But I thought you and his wife are friends.”
“We are. Best friends. I went over there that night but…” Her hand went to her chest again, rubbed lightly. “But only because Nancy called me.” She straightened. “Yes. I’m sorry. It was such a traumatic event. Nancy called me when she found him. I rushed over to console her. Annie was already there. She called the police because Nancy was too distraught.”
“She was too distraught to call the police but not to call you?”
“What?” Her hand rubbed over her heart and a bead of sweat formed on her upper lip.
“Never mind.” He peered down at her hand still lingering over her heart. “Do you know if Mrs. Wright has a heart condition?”
Mallory frowned, this time pressing more firmly on her chest. “No. No, she doesn’t. Why does that matter?”
“Because Mr. Wright died from a lethal dose of nitroglycerin,” Brantley said flatly, relaying the information he’d received from JJ a short while ago.
Her eyes widened briefly. “I wasn’t aware. I… We hadn’t heard that.”
Brantley nodded, as though confirming. “That’s what the autopsy report reads.”
“That’s terrible. Who do you think could’ve done that?” she asked, her gaze swinging back and forth between them.
He was tempted to say she was more concerned about Mr. Wright’s death than her own husband’s.
“We don’t know, ma’am, but we intend to find out,” Reese informed her.
Brantley saw a flash of something in her eyes. Something cold.
