Tammy stepped aside and motioned him in. Hank took an uneasy step forward and looked toward the front room. “May we sit down?”

She led him in and waved a hand toward the couch. He waited until she sat in a matching chair before he took a seat.

Hank leaned forward, fidgeted with his hands, and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Norton …” he began and hesitated.

She tilted her head slightly to one side. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry I have to inform you, we found your husband’s body this afternoon.”

Tammy’s eyes widened and she stared at Hank, unblinking. Then a frown took over her brow. “Are you sure it was him?”

“We’re sure,” Hank said. “We identified him from a photo. He was carrying his wallet as well.”

Tammy was silent a moment, the frown remaining. Then she spoke, her voice quivering. “How … how did it happen? When?”

“I’m afraid he was murdered, Mrs. Norton.”

She took a sharp breath. “Murdered?”

Hank nodded. “The medical examiner estimated the time of death as a few hours ago. She’ll have a more accurate time later.”

Tammy closed her eyes and dropped her head back. She took a couple of deep breaths before opening her eyes again and looking at Hank.

Then the tears came, and she wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. Then more tears.

Hank had spied a box of tissues on a stand at the end of the couch when he came in. He was in the habit of keeping an eye out for them at a time like this. They always came in handy. He stood and picked up the box, then leaned forward and offered it to Tammy.

She took a tissue, dabbed at her eyes, and then blew her nose lightly. “Do you know who … killed him?” she asked, looking at Hank through reddening eyes.

“Not yet, but we’ll do our best to find out.”

She nodded and closed her eyes, forcing out more tears. She blotted them away.

Hank asked softly, “Mrs. Norton, would you have any idea who might’ve done this?”

She shook her head. “No idea.” Then she frowned and added quickly, “Maybe Rocky Shaft?”

“Why do you say that?”

“I saw him on the news. He blames my husband for his brother’s murder, and he said he’d kill Michael if he got ahold of him.”

“We’re looking into Rocky Shaft,” Hank asked. “Is there anyone else you can think of?”

She bit her lip and looked toward the ceiling a moment. “I can’t think of anyone. My husband stayed out of trouble after he was released, and he worked hard. Everyone liked him, and he got along with his coworkers as far as I know.”

Hank looked closely at Mrs. Norton’s face. He saw the bruises Annie mentioned, one by her left eye, and one on her chin. She didn’t appear to be taking pains to cover them, her secret now exposed. He decided not to mention it to the grieving widow; it might make her defensive and cause her undue pain.

Tammy narrowed her eyes. “Detective, I hope you’re convinced now my husband didn’t kill Werner Shaft.” She rocked back and forth in her chair, wringing her hands. “I told you yesterday, my husband’s life might be in danger.” Her voice held an accusing tone.

“I understand,” Hank said. “And we did everything we could to find your husband.” He sighed. “But we couldn’t protect him if we couldn’t find him.”

Tammy sat up straight. “If you could have proven his innocence, he would’ve come forward, and he wouldn’t be dead now.”

Hank sat back and nodded slowly. “We did all we could, Mrs. Norton. I’m sorry about your husband. I truly am.”

“Then find out who did this. Find out who killed my husband.” Tammy’s voice had a hint of anger in it. “He’s dead and can’t defend himself, so it’s up to you.”

Hank took a couple of slow breaths. “I’ll do all I can to get at the full truth. You’re going to have to trust me on that.”

Her face softened and she dropped her head, sobbing. Through short, quick breaths, she managed to say, “I’m sorry, Detective. I know it’s not your fault.”

Hank remained quiet. He was used to taking the blame on occasion and didn’t take it personally. It was all part of the grieving process.

But he couldn’t rule out Norton as a murderer yet. Norton was killed long after Shaft, and he had motive, means, and opportunity—not to mention the mountain of evidence against him.

The sobs subsided and Hank asked, “Mrs. Norton, did your husband contact you in any way since Monday?”

The pain in her eyes seemed to grow more intense. “He went to work as usual and that was the last I saw him.”

“He never called you?”

“No.”

Hank considered telling her about her husband’s phone call to Annie and then decided it would serve no purpose. It would have to come out eventually, but now wasn’t the time.

Tammy raised her head, took a shaky breath, and asked, “How was my husband killed?”

“He was shot. Once in the heart. He would’ve died immediately and not suffered.”

She nodded almost imperceptibly, the tears welling up again. “Where … where did you find him?”

“Down by the railway tracks. Investigators are still processing the scene, but it appears he was killed elsewhere and then taken down an access road and left near the tracks.”

“Dumped like a piece of garbage,” Tammy said, her lower lip quivering.

“It appears that way.” Hank fidgeted uncomfortably. “They’ve taken him to the city morgue.”

Tammy focused her pain-filled eyes on Hank. “They won’t have to perform an autopsy, will they? I’d hate to think of my husband …” Her voice trailed off and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want my husband to go through that.”

“It might not be necessary. The clear cause of death was a gunshot wound, but I’m afraid I can’t guarantee you there won’t be an autopsy. That’ll be up to the medical examiner to determine.”

“I don’t know what good it’ll do, but if it will help find Michael’s killer, then …”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk to the ME about that. In the meantime, you’ll need to identify the body,” Hank said, and added quickly, “There’s no doubt it’s him. It’s just a formality.”

Tammy nodded. “I need to see him again.” She wiped away a tear. “I’m having a hard time accepting this. I guess seeing him will help.”

“I’ll contact you as soon as the body’s ready,” Hank said, as he stood. “In the meantime, I’m giving this my full attention. I’ll be sure to let you know anything we find out.”

Tammy stood. “Thank you, Detective. Please find my husband’s killer and prove his innocence.”

“I’ll do all I can,” Hank assured her. He made his way to the front door, let himself out, and Mrs. Shaft closed the door behind him.

He was glad the most uncomfortable part was over, but now he had to find a killer—or two.

Chapter 31

Wednesday, 5:43 p.m.

ANNIE HAD LISTENED to the phone call from Michael Norton again and was going over her notes. Norton’s murder put a whole new slant on the case, and she hoped looking at things from a different angle would reveal the missing pieces of the puzzle.

The doorbell rang and she sat back, working a crick from her neck before stepping into the living room. Jake and Matty had been here a moment ago but had suddenly disappeared.

She went to the door and pulled it open. Now she knew why Jake had mysteriously vanished. He must’ve spied the caller through the living room window, and he and Matty would likely now be found holed up in the garage, fixing something that didn’t need fixing.

The woman who stood outside looked a lot like Annie—the same midlength, blond hair, blue eyes, and slim figure. But she was somewhat older, and the sour look permanently imprinted on her face camouflaged her once attractive features.

“Hello, Mother,” Annie said. “What brings you here?”

“Are you going to let me in?” Alma Roderick asked.