Page 65 of One in a Million

Lila shivered beneath her thin blouse. “Is this a trick question? We both know who you’re talking about and why.”

“But we don’t for certain. And even if we could be sure, we don’t know which one.”

“Why not all three? They’ve got to be working together. And they all have reason to see me convicted of Frank’s murder or dead—or both.”

“That brings me to something else.” He drew a manila envelope out of his vest. Lila recognized it at once. “I found this in your car. Is it yours?”

“Yes, it’s mine.” Lila curbed the impulse to try to snatch it from him. She was too weak to take it. “It must have fallen out of my purse. What’s in there is none of your business.”

His expression hardened. “What’s in here is very much my business, Lila. But if you’ll give me a few honest answers, I’ll return it to you. That’s why I’m here.”

“Go ahead and ask. I have nothing to hide.”

“You paid to have these taken?”

“Yes. I suspected Frank was cheating on me. It turned out I was right. And thinking back, I have reason to believe he’d been doing it all along. I was faithful to my husband for eleven years. I expected the same thing from him. I should’ve known better.”

“But according to his children, he cheated with you while he was married to Madeleine. That should’ve been a red flag.”

“Yes, I suppose. But I was naïve enough to think I could give him everything he needed. Women can be such fools.”

“And the woman in the photo?”

“One of many, I suspect. Frank liked them young. That was one thing I couldn’t change about myself.”

“Could the woman have been Cheyenne McKenna?”

“I don’t think so. Frank had a schoolboy crush on Cheyenne. He even talked about wanting to train her. But she wasn’t interested. And now she’s a celebrity. What would she want with an old man like Frank?”

“So, you don’t know the woman in the photos?”

“I’ve no idea who she is. Frank wouldn’t have had any trouble getting girls. They flocked around him like buckle bunnies at those reining events.”

“And what about the rumor that he was going to leave you for a younger woman?”

“Somebody started it. But Frank had it good with me. And I was too deep in denial to face the reality that he was having fun on the side. Why should he give up what we had for a whole new set of problems?”

“One last question,” Sam said. “What were you planning to do about these photos?”

“I hadn’t decided. Should I divorce Frank? Expose him? Lock the pictures away in case I needed them later? I was still making up my mind when he was killed.”

“So, you could have killed him. Motive, means, and opportunity. You had all three—and nobody to confirm your alibi.”

Lila felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. She’d hoped Sam might change his mind about her guilt. But no, she was still a suspect. Summoning her dignity, she gave him an honest answer.

“Yes, I could have killed him. I didn’t hate Frank—in fact, I loved him. But love can hurt. I was angry enough to meet him in the stable and plunge that needle into his neck. But I didn’t do it. I had too much to lose. And as Frank’s widow and heir, I would never have gotten away with his murder. Frank’s killer was somebody else. Somebody angrier and stronger than I was—and less likely to get caught.”

She stood, her signal that the interview was over. “Now, Agent Sam Rafferty,” she said, “I suggest you give me back my property and go find the person who hated my husband enough to kill him!”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Roper had left work an hour early. Driving the road that Lila had taken, he passed the spot where her car had veered off the road and rolled down the embankment. A tow truck with a winch was hauling the wreckage out of the bar ditch.Totaledwas the word for the elegant white Porsche, its chassis crushed like a soda can. Lila was lucky to have survived the crash with minor injuries. Maybe he shouldn’t even be driving her home. Maybe he should take her to Abilene and check her into the hospital. At least she’d be safe there.

But knowing Lila, she would have none of that.

The idea that someone had tried to kill her filled him with helpless rage. Frank’s ex and her two offspring—or someone in their pay—had to be behind the sabotage on the Porsche. Their plan was as evil as it was obvious. Remove Lila, making her death look like an accident; blame her for Frank’s murder, and the ranch would be theirs.

But Sam was right. They might have motive, means, and opportunity, but so far, there was no evidence that would hold up in court.