“Mrs. Schulz, I want to hear what else you know,” Armstrong ordered me, not as nicely this time.
I glanced at Tom, waiting for support, direction, I knew not what. But he was looking at his large hands. What was going on here? I glared at Armstrong.
“What?”
“You’re sure you saw Sandee Brisbane?” he asked mildly. “Watching, stalking, from the stacks? Right near where Drew Wellington was sitting?”
“Why are we coming back to this?” I asked, my tone brusque. “So your guys can laugh at me again?”
Boyd was rubbing his hands together. “Well, maybe you’ve heard something from the supposed killer of your ex-husband—”
“Supposed?” I interjected. “I was right there when she confessed. As were half a dozen firefighters, who just happened to be able to confirm the story. Besides, you all just said
