then turned back to see a woman lying on the floor beside the bed, her head resting in a stain of red. The crying came from the other woman who knelt at the figure’s side, long dark hair hiding her face.
“Ma’am?”
No response.
“Ma’am?” He touched her shoulder.
She jerked, screamed and scrambled sideways. Movement to his right brought him around and face-to-face with a German shepherd, whose sharp teeth, bared in a snarl, looked capable of tearing Ethan’s throat out.
“Easy, boy,” he soothed, backing up a step, flashing his badge to the scared woman trembling just out of reach.
“Twister, no. Sit,” the woman commanded, her voice clogged with tears.
The snarling stopped. The dog sat, popped a yawn, then, with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, grinned up at Ethan.
Breathing a little easier, Ethan was able to turn his attention back to the body on the floor…and the woman whose liquid ebony eyes flicked between him and Catelyn. Catelyn moved over to see the action this side of the bed. In a gentle tone, she said, “Marianna, it’s me, Catelyn, Alissa’s friend. This is my partner, Ethan O’Hara. What happened?”
Marianna blinked, swiped a few stray tears and gave a shuddering sigh. “Oh, Catelyn. I…I don’t know. I just… came home from work and found…this…her. The front door was open and…I called 911, but couldn’t wait for help. I had to make sure she was all right, but…she’s not.”
Another muffled sob, more silent tears.
No, the woman definitely wasn’t all right. The coroner would need to make a trip out here. Ethan asked, “Who is she, your sister?” They looked enough alike.
A negative shake caused her hair to shimmer, a few strands stuck to the salty tracks on her cheeks. She brushed them aside. “My roommate. Suzanne Miller.”
Twister crawled over to rest his head on his mistress’s knee. Her slender fingers buried themselves in the animal’s silky fur.
“Who are you?” he asked.
He knew Catelyn could fill him in, but he wanted to know now. He told himself his wanting to know was strictly professional and had nothing to do with the fact that she was probably the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He blinked, forcing himself to focus on her words, not her looks. Or the sound of her voice, which had an accent he couldn’t quite place.
Marianna glanced at Catelyn, then looked back at him. She said, “I’m Marianna Santino. I teach at the Palmetto State School for the Deaf across the street.”
The deaf school. He’d refused to acknowledge it as they’d passed it on their way to this subdivision. His sister had gone to school there for many years. It held a mixture of bittersweet and painful memories for him.
Looking straight at her, he said, “I hate to tell you this, Ms. Santino, but it looks like your roommate either surprised the perp…or he was after her and caught her.” He looked around, then motioned to Catelyn. “We need to get out of here. This scene’s been contaminated enough. Call it in and secure the area, will you?”
Catelyn went to do as he requested. Ethan held his hand out to the woman.
“But everyone loves Suzanne,” Marianna protested even as she accepted his helping hand. Twister stayed right beside his mistress. “She teaches kindergarten at Pine Wood Elementary School.”
“Well, it looks like she made someone really mad about something.”
* * *
Marianna missed that last part; he’d turned his head and she’d not been able to read his lips. Something about someone being mad. But who?
She followed him from the room, down the hall and out the door. What had Suzanne stumbled upon? Had she been up there all day, or had she come home early from work?
A hand on her arm brought her attention back to the man before her. His concerned blue-gray gaze narrowed, zoomed in on her. For some reason she noticed the touch of gray at his temples. “Oh, I’m sorry. You said something. I was thinking, picturing poor Suzanne…” She bit her lip. He didn’t need her to break down again. He needed her help.
“Are you with me here?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” She really needed to stop apologizing. None of this was her fault. “I’m almost deaf and need you to face me when you talk to me so I can read your lips, all right?”
Understanding flashed across his rugged features. The flicker of pain she glimpsed on his face confused her, but then it was gone and he was all business. “I need to ask you some questions, all right?”
Marianna nodded. Probably the same questions she had running through her mind. They walked to the curb, Twister trotting beside her.
Ethan asked, “Does Suzanne have any enemies?”
“No, like I said, she teaches…taught…kindergarten.”
“A fight with a boyfriend?”
“She doesn’t have a boyfriend right now. She recently broke up with a guy named Bryson James, but it was amicable.”
He jotted something in the small notebook he had pulled out. When he looked up, his electric gray-blue gaze connected with hers again and she felt a pull, sensed comfort, strength…a hidden pain?
She jolted, not wanting to feel anything right now or notice the good-looking cop sitting on her couch. Suzanne was dead, and the police needed her full attention to help solve her murder.
“Family?”
Marianna rubbed her hand across her forehead, swallowing another wave of grief. She whispered, “Her parents live here in town. They’ll be devastated.” He shifted next to her. She stared helplessly at him. “What can I do? How do I help?”
His big calloused hand reached over to take hers, his gaze intense as he said, “You’re helping in just answering the questions. Don’t leave anything out, tell me everything you know about her. The smallest detail could wind up being the biggest clue, okay? Then we’re going to have to find you a place to stay for a couple of days until we can release the scene—” he cleared his throat “—um, your house, back to you.”
Marianna nodded and sucked in a fortifying breath, and for the next hour and a half, while officers, a CSI unit, the medical examiner and the coroner paraded through her home and Suzanne’s privacy, she did her best to give Ethan O’Hara something to work with to enable him to find Suzanne’s killer.
* * *
Ethan waited while Marianna sent a text message to her parents that she would be coming to stay for a couple of nights. He was glad texting was such an in thing these days, since it made communication so much easier for the deaf. His sister would have loved the technology. Instead of dwelling on the past, however, he focused on what the crime scene investigator was saying.
“The medical examiner ruled out suicide. Ms. Miller was killed when she cracked her head on the corner of the bedside
