“Wait, Donny. What about the autopsy results?”
“Coroner’s office should have ’em at the sheriff’s department by the time I get back to the office. But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. So, when was the last time John Richard Korman clobbered you?”
I took a shaky breath, remembering. “Seven years ago. He broke this thumb”—I gestured—“in three places not too long before we divorced.”
“Okay, I’ll have to check what the pathologist says about Suz Craig’s hand, if there’re any contusions there. If we’re lucky, maybe he broke her finger, too. How would Korman attack you? You don’t mind me asking?”
“He’d grab my arms, shake me very hard. He liked to punch me in the face, even though most high-income abusers are devious enough to avoid the face. I usually ended up with a blac
