Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Against Lisa Robinson?” I asked. “Why would you want to sue her?”
Wayne reared up. “She attacked us. We went to her place yesterday, figuring she’d be open on Sunday since, you know, she owns an antique store, and the woman went crazy. She is seriously unhinged.”
Spencer nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed Imogen and Richard. To be this angry a decade and a half after they disappeared... I hope the police are seriously looking at her.”
“I believe they are,” I said. However, her DNA was not found at the crime scene. Of course, she could’ve had an accomplice or somehow managed to kill them without leaving DNA. She was very tall, and fifteen years ago, she was probably even stronger than she was today. I made a mental note to talk to Pierce again about Lisa. “What happened?” I asked.
Wayne swallowed, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “We just went to talk to her, and the minute she found out who we were, she accused me of being a terrible husband. Said if I had kept Imogen happy, she wouldn’t have run off with Richard.”
Spencer nodded, looking tired. “I tried to intercede and tell her we all wanted the same thing, to find out who had killed them, and she lost her mind. She threw paint at us. Threw some picture frames. She even threw what looked like ink.”
That seemed to be a favorite pastime for Lisa.
“She ruined your good suit,” Wayne said.
Spencer ducked his head. “It’s just a suit, Wayne. I don’t think it’s necessary to sue the woman. She’s obviously very upset.”
Wayne frowned, the handsome lines of his face growing fierce. “I don’t care. You only have one good suit, Spencer, and she ruined it. We need to sue her and teach her a lesson.”
Spencer shook his head. “I’ll buy another suit.”
“Not by practicing obscure tax law in the middle of Montana.”
“Hey, my practice is getting stronger,” Spencer objected.
Wayne gestured in the air. “You bought that suit in Italy.”
Spencer sighed. “See what I’m dealing with? He just wants to concentrate on anything but Imogen’s death, which I understand. But come on.”
I nodded. “You know you can file suit in Small Claims Court. The suit wasn’t worth more than five grand, was it?”
Spencer shook his head.
Wayne snorted. “No, but it was a nice suit.”
“Take it to Small Claims Court. You shouldn’t have to pay for a lawyer,” I said.
“Yeah, we could do that if you want.” Spencer looked at his brother. “It’s really not that big of a deal to me.”
Wayne looked at me. “I think we should file charges then. For assault and battery. We should go speak with the police right now.”
Spencer shook his head. “I just don’t think we need to deal with this.”
“But you cut your hand,” Wayne said. “You’ve been damaged.”
Spencer looked down at his hand, and I did also. There was just a little nick.
“I ran into a bookshelf,” he said. “Trying to get away from the splashing paint.”
Wayne leaned forward. “Would you please help us? We don’t know the Idaho court system.”
Small Claims Court was pretty dang easy, but I wanted to go talk to Lisa again. Something had been bugging me, and I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “I’ll tell you what, if I get Lisa to agree to reimburse you for the suit and whatever other clothing she destroyed, will you guys drop the case?”
“Absolutely,” Spencer said instantly before his brother could intervene.
Wayne crossed his arms again. “I don’t want to let her off. She’s a bad person. Plus, I think she killed my Imogen.”
“Let me talk to her,” I said. “Maybe I can find something out.”
Wayne didn’t look convinced, but Spencer nodded. “Honestly, let’s just get back to Montana,” he said.
Wayne reared up. “We’re not leaving until we find out who killed my wife.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” I said.
Oliver poked his head in. “I just wanted to check on everybody and see if you would like some tea, coffee, or water.” He looked at the two men as if making sure everything was all right.
“No, they were just leaving,” I said. All I needed was one more overprotective male in my life. Oliver was eighteen years old. Enough was enough. “Would you please escort them out?”
“I would love to,” Oliver said, opening the door wider and standing out of the way.
Wayne stood, and I did the same. He leaned over and took my hand, shaking it and patting it with his other. “You really are lovely. If you would like to reconsider a coffee date, I would be truly honored.” His eyes sparkled with sincerity.
“She has a boyfriend, bud,” Oliver said before I could answer.
I cut him a look. “Thank you, Wayne,” I said. “I do appreciate it, but I am very happily involved with somebody.” Going with discretion, I didn’t mention that my somebody could probably kill him with two fingers.