Chapter Thirteen
He’d run his hand over his face a dozen times.
“Take the gun, Mark,” Gail said. “You know you have to process it and work the scene. You’re going to have to make sure all the Is are dotted and Ts are crossed. Tolly can’t have his hand in any part of this investigation. You know that already. It has to be you. There are no rounds left. I already emptied the chamber.”
Mark pulled out an evidence bag from his inside pocket and held it open as Gail reached into the pockets of her light blue jean jacket. From one she pulled the bullets, from the other the gun. Mark took the .45, a cop’s gun, checked that it had no rounds, and tucked it in the bag.
“Did you shoot him, Gail? Is that why you came here, because of what Billy Jo and I told you this morning?”
She lifted her gaze
