eyes. Clothes were scattered in disarray, a lamp was overturned, a wineglass broken on the faded carpet.
Then her gaze fell to the bed, and her stomach pitched. The white bed linens were tangled and drenched in blood.
“We believe Mr. Rice was killed here in his bedroom.” Sheriff Gray gestured toward the crimson stains on the sheets and floor. “As you see from the amount of blood loss, he was apparently stabbed several times and bled out.”
Serena couldn’t take her eyes off the blood. No one could have survived that much blood loss.
Kay gestured toward the other photos of the crime scene. “Then where is Rice’s body?”
The sheriff twisted toward Serena, his suspicious look sending a chill up her spine. “We were hoping Ms. Stover could tell us that.”
“I have no idea,” Serena blurted. “I—”
“Shh, don’t say anything right now.” Kay placed her hand over Serena’s to calm her.
“What about the murder weapon?” Kay asked.
The sheriff pointed to a serrated kitchen knife on the floor beside the tangled bedding, and cold fear clawed at Serena. Dear God…that knife looked exactly like one from the set Parker’s parents had given them as a wedding gift.
“Blood matches Rice’s. And we found Ms. Stover’s prints on the knife, and the wineglass.”
Serena gasped. “But I’ve never been to the man’s house.”
Sheriff Gray leaned forward, hands gripping the file edge. He slid another photograph from the bottom of the stack and cocked one brow.
“Then how did your underwear and prints get in his bedroom, Ms. Stover?”
Serena stared at a pair of her black lace underwear in shock. “I have no idea, I told you I’ve never been in his house…”
The sheriff’s look hardened. “Just like you weren’t guilty of assault when you were a teenager?”
Serena gasped. “I wasn’t. Besides, those records were supposed to be sealed.”
Again Kay covered her hand to silence her. “Serena, please. Let me handle this.”
Serena gave Colt an imploring look, hoping for support, but his face was a granite mask revealing nothing.
They had to believe her. She hadn’t been at Lyle’s house.
Of course, she hadn’t attacked that guy when she was fifteen either. She had been defending herself. But the boy who’d accosted her came from a rich family who’d paid a high-priced attorney to drag her through the mud, and she’d ended up in the juvenile detention center.
So how had her underwear and knife and her fingerprints gotten in Lyle’s place?
Sheriff Gray laid another photograph in front of them. “These are from Rice’s computer.” He spread several printouts of emails in front of her, then used a pencil to point to them. “Please read these emails, Ms. Stover.”
Trembling inside, Serena leaned forward to study the screen and Kay did the same.
I love you, Lyle. I won’t let you leave me. I’ll kill you before I let you go.
You’re mine forever.
Serena
Nausea settled over her as she scanned a dozen more. Each note poured out her love, begged the man to not leave her, the latter ones becoming increasingly threatening.
But she hadn’t sent them.
“Judging by these emails, it appears you were obsessed with Lyle Rice.” The sheriff’s chair squeaked as he leaned back, studying her. “Rice wasn’t upset because you rejected him, Ms. Stover. It was the other way around. You were stalking him.”
“No…that’s not true—”
“Be quiet, Serena.” Kay’s fingers tightened over Serena’s. “Sheriff, how do you know those emails came from my client? Did you have a warrant to search her computer?”
Sheriff Gray smiled. “I’m not some dumb local like you think, Ms. Krantz.” He lifted a manila envelope from a file box and dropped it on the desk, then removed Serena’s cell phone, which was sealed in a plastic bag.
“When we booked Ms. Stover, we collected her personal items. The emails came from this phone.”
Serena’s heart pounded. “That’s impossible.”
“Someone else could have used that phone to plant those emails,” Kay pointed out calmly.
Sheriff Gray shrugged, then angled his head toward Serena. “But you sent them, didn’t you, Ms. Stover? You were desperate for attention after your husband’s death, so you fell for the first man who came along. Then you couldn’t stand it when Rice broke it off with you, so you stalked him, then went to his house and stabbed him.” Sheriff Gray’s voice hardened. “Now tell us where you dumped the body, and maybe we can talk a plea.”
“There’s no need to discuss a plea. My client is innocent.” Kay glared at the sheriff in challenge. “Sheriff, look at Ms. Stover. She can’t weigh more than one hundred and ten pounds. Rice was much larger and stronger, right?” She glanced at Serena. “How much did he weigh? One-eighty, two-hundred pounds?”
Serena nodded.
“First of all, it would be highly unlikely that Serena could overcome a man that size and stab him. Secondly, if she did, he would have put up a fight and she would have major defensive wounds.” Kay ticked her points off on her fingers. “And thirdly, even if she overcame those obvious obstacles and managed to kill him, how could she have possibly gotten rid of the body by herself?”
Sheriff Gray punched the first photograph of the crime scene. “See those marks on the floor? There used to be a rug in that spot. She used it to roll up the man’s body.” He slanted Serena a condemning look. “Then you dragged him outside, put him in your van and dumped him somewhere. Where? A ravine maybe? The river?”
Kay rolled her eyes. “There is no way my client could have lifted Rice into her van by herself.”
Sheriff Gray tilted his head sideways. “You’d be surprised at how strong an adrenaline rush can make a person.”
Kay shot up from her seat, her tone sarcastic. “Sheriff, this is ridiculous. The next thing you’re going to accuse her of is having an accomplice. Maybe her six-year-old son helped her dump the body.”
“Why don’t you let your client tell us how she disposed of Rice’s body?” Sheriff Gray suggested.
Serena glared at him, biting back an argument. At this point, shouting and arguing would only make her look guilty. As if his evidence hadn’t already done that.
“As I said, my client is innocent, Sheriff.” Kay reached for her briefcase. “Now this interrogation is over. I demand you release Ms. Stover.”
“We’ll
