She thumbed through the contents.
'Money,' Quill said involuntarily. 'Money.'
'Yowser,' Dorset said in his soft silky voice.
The tape jumped, flickered, and resumed its steady whirr. Nora stuffed the money in her purse, tossed the envelope to the ground, and turned.
The dark figure stirred. Swung. And struck.
Nora fell, faceup, the headlights illuminating her face. Her lips moved. Silently. Quill shuddered and closed her eyes. She heard a click. The tape stopped. She opened her eyes to see Nora, frozen in time, her hand lifted in a last gesture, the fingers splayed out like claws, mouth open, eyes open.
'Dead,' said Dorset.
'How?' asked Quill.
'You should know.'
Quill shook her head.
Dorset pulled at her coat. John's coat. 'When did you last see Nora Cahill?'
'This is ridiculous,' said Quill. 'Look. The time on the monitor. 9:23 p.m. I was at the Inn this evening.'
'You got somebody besides your sister's gonna swear where you were between five after nine and nine- thirty? 'Cause that's all the time it'd take to hop down the road and off that broad. Maybe less. Haven't found a witness yet could swear to a time frame that tight in court. We blow this tape up, we're gonna see your cute little face right there.'
'You will not,' snapped Quill. 'And somebody stole my coat. They must have.'
He leaned close again, and blew out once, twice, against her cheek. Quill felt her stomach roil. 'Just. Tell. Me,' he coaxed. 'Just me.' He sat up suddenly, like a dog that hears the approach of an intruder. He laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it painfully tight. Quill heard a car door slam, then the sound of two - no, three people outside. There was a banging on the door, and then Howie, Meg, and John came in, the three of them abreast, like the cavalry in the kind of movies they didn't make anymore.
'Hi, guys,' said Quill, dismayed to hear the quiver in her voice.
Howie glanced briefly at her, then turned his attention to Dorset. Meg, for once completely silent, came to the chair and stood to her right; John took up a position on the left. Meg reached down and squeezed Quill's hand hard.
'What's the meaning of this, Dorset?' Howie asked mildly.
'Should be obvious. I have a warrant for the little lady's arrest as a material witness to the murder of Nora Cahill this evening at 9:23. The good news is that she won't be charged with murder until the coroner's report comes in. Should be some time tomorrow. The deceased was taken to the county morgue not forty-five minutes ago.'
'Can I see the warrant, please?'
Dorset pulled it from his shirt pocket. Howie unfolded it and read intently.
'This is absolutely ridiculous, Sheriff,' Meg snapped. 'Quill was at the Inn all evening. She was never out of my sight.'
'Never?' said Dorset. 'Never's a long time. I may as well tell you now, I've got affidavits coming from a couple of people up to the Inn.'
'Who?' Meg tightened her hand on Quill's shoulder. 'What kind of - Quill, what's the matter with your shoulder!?'
'Gave me a bit of trouble,' said Dorset.
Meg's face turned white. John took an involuntary step forward.
'You watch it, Raintree,' said Dorset. 'I've read your record.'
Quill stood up and grabbed John. Meg regained her breath and shrieked, 'You hit my sister!'
'Meg, I'm fine. Let's not get too excited here, okay?'
'QUlLL, for God's sake. What the hell do you mean, gave you a bit of trouble? Who the hell do you think you are?'
'Deputy'll bear me out on that.'
'The hell he will,' stormed Meg, who'd apparently lost the variety of curses usually at her disposal. 'Get out of my way, you son of a bitch. I'm taking my sister home! Howie?!'
Howie folded up the warrant and tossed it on the desk. 'I'd like to see this videotape.'
'File a request with the judge.'
'And this physical evidence found at the scene?'
'Envelope from the Inn. Says so right at the top. Decedent's name written in the accused's handwriting on the front.'
'Who identified the handwriting?'
'File a request with the judge.'
'Did the medical examiner give a preliminary cause of death?'
