28
Thanks to a kir or two, and eventually one Negroni with Lawrence, Monday morning brought a touch of a hangover. Molly slipped out of bed early and stood in the kitchen guzzling mineral water while waiting for the coffee to be ready. A light snow had fallen overnight and the back meadow was dusted with white, the tips of grass already turning brown again where the sun had hit them and melted the snow.
Her mind was clear, if a bit achy, and she spent the quiet dawn going over the case, detail by detail, fact by fact.
A man who was universally disliked is killed by a blow to the head.
The kitchen window was found open.
No prints (that we know about).
No knowledge of whether anything was stolen from the house.
His children were estranged. Unclear if they are also estranged from each
