Will stuffed down his own anger as the door slammed hard and Kenneth Buchanan stalked over to a new Mercedes Benz. It was amazing, watching this man walk fast with no effort, no thought to it at all.
He started the car and his phone rang. It was Diane Henderson.
“How’s the lawyer?”
“Pissed and full of threats.” Will gave her the rundown.
“Do you like him for this?”
“I don’t dislike him,” Will said. “He claims he’s got an alibi, but my gut says he’s hiding something.”
“Trust your gut. They were lovers. They broke up. She was seeing other men. Jealousy is a great motive.”
“He’s got powerful connections. He called the chief.”
“And what did the chief tell you?”
“Handle with care.”
“I have some news,” she said. “Crime scene found some hairs that didn’t belong to Gruber. And they have a partial shoeprint.”
After she hung up, he realized he was an hour late taking his Baclofen. He dry swallowed the white pill. Only the realization that he had missed the dose caused the right quads to get angry. He hadn’t felt any discomfort during his confrontation with Kenneth Buchanan.
Such a strange thing, this mind-body connection.