The Defenseless Read Online Free PDF Page B

part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he were ignorant to the fact she was a beauty. He tended to lean more toward business than pleasure.
    “There was quite an age difference between you,” Jack said.
    “I prefer a mature man, and we made it work.”
    “Did you?”
    “Are you accusing me of killing him?”
    “You don’t seem very upset?”
    A bolt flashed across her eyes. “Would it work better for you if I were in a white, fluffy robe with matching slippers, had a puffy face and a red-tipped nose? If tissues were coming out of pockets because they couldn’t possibly hold anymore?” She simpered and sank further into the couch. “Please.”
    This chick was cold as ice.
    “You ‘made it work?’ Those were your words. You don’t sound like you were happy.”
    She rolled her eyes, dramatically, and accompanied the motion with a deeply rushed exhale. “We were okay. All right? Is that what you want to hear?”
    The brunette shot to her feet. “I’m not sure why you’re pushing her like this. Do you think she killed him?”
    I held up a hand to encourage her to take a seat again. She disregarded the gesture, but it didn’t stop me from saying my bit. “We’re not accusing her of anything, but if we can get some straightforward answers, we’ll be out of your way, and you both can get on with your day.”
    She dropped back onto the couch.
    Jenna’s steel gaze went to me. “You want to know if he had enemies? Yes. Don’t ask me for a list though.”
    Since Jenna seemed more inclined to talk to me than she did to Jack, I carried on. “Were any of these people angered because of what he did to his dog?”
    Her composure faltered and had her going pale for a fraction of a second. “I suppose so. I wasn’t around then, but if they were, they had no right to be.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t proof he did it.”
    “The dish with Warfin—that’s rat poison—and a bowl of antifreeze were pulled from this house. Is the house not in his name?”
    Jenna hugged herself briefly and afterward tucked her hands under her thighs. “He didn’t do it.”
    “Then who did?”
    The house went silent as a tomb. There wasn ’t even the ticking of a clock or the humming of a furnace.
    “Listen, the charges didn’t stick, and what was that—twenty-some years ago? Some sicko targeted him after this long?” Stress tore at Jenna’s facial features, giving her hard lines. “I honestly believe that his bitch-wife at the time did it. I really do. That woman is a nut job.”
    With her words, I remembered reading that she was his second wife in the file. Somehow I had forgotten, probably due to the fact my mind was a cluttered mess from my personal life.
    She angled her head to the left. “I took him from her. She didn’t deserve him.”
    “You were his secretary.” The pieces were filling in.
    “Yes. I noticed you didn’t phrase that one as a question. You know what he did for work. I love how cops know the answers but still ask. He ran Simpson Construction. He made it from the ground up. He didn’t stand on his parents’ legacy. He created one.” Passion ignited in her eyes. “He was a believer in dreams, but he—” Her voice went gravelly and tears filled her eyes. “He made them come true.”
    The brunette wrapped her arm around Jenna, and Jenna leaned into the embrace.
    I didn ’t dare verbalize the thought, but it was apparent she’d loved Darren Simpson. The bravado presented was simply that, a façade.
    “This person, the one who did this—” Jenna’s chin quivered and tears ran down her cheeks. “Was a sick son of a bitch. Darren didn’t deserve this.”
    I was left speechless and somehow managed to keep my opinion to myself. This case was one of deep-seated conflict. The abused animals were given voice by the killer extracting vigilante justice, but on the flipside, our unsub was killing men and taking the stand as judge, jury, and executioner. The death sentence wasn ’t even legal