Ashes to Dust (Las Vegas Mystery)

sat perfectly still, staring at Snow, that his eyes had grown larger, his complexion whiter. He looked like a corpse.

    Five minutes later, Alice walked back in through the front door.
    “He’s on his way back to his motel,” she said as she crossed into the living room. “I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble out of him.” She sat down on the sofa next to Snow.
    “What did you say to him?” Snow asked.
    “He just needed to calm down,” she said. “He’s lost his daughter. He doesn’t feel that he has anyone left. He’s suffering through some anxiety.”
    “He ain’t alone!” Miller declared.
    They turned their heads toward him. He was sitting with his feet flat on the floor, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, like a man waiting to be executed.
    No one spoke for a moment.
    “We’re going to have to ask you some questions,” Snow said. “And I want you to know we’re here to help you—provided you’re innocent.”
    Miller nodded solemnly. “I know. Go ahead.”
    Snow pulled his notepad out of his back pocket and began. “Why don’t we start with your activities on the day of the murder, Tuesday.”
    Miller looked down into his lap for a moment, and then up and to the left of Snow’s head as though he were seeing a replay of the day’s events projected onto the wall. “I was off that day. Didn’t do much; went over to the park and shot some hoops for a while in the morning, then came back, did some laundry, vacuumed. I called Laura around noon. She’s usually up by then, but I got her voicemail.”
    Snow studied his face. “You called her home phone or cell?”
    Miller shifted his gaze to Snow. “Both. Why is that important?”
    “I don’t know that it is. It probably isn’t. Later on I may find that it is. Don’t worry about it; I ask a lot of what seem like impertinent questions.” Snow paused, looked down at his notepad, and then back up at Miller. “Did you leave a message?”
    “Yes, on her cell phone.”
    “Did she call you back?”
    He shook his head. “No.”
    “So, then you…?”
    Miller kept his eyes on Snow. “I sat around here, watching movies on TV until around three thirty. Tried both of her numbers again. No answer, so I headed over there to see if I could catch her at home. Got there around four and met Crystal coming out of the front door. She told me Laura wasn’t home, so I left and came home. Sat around here drinking some beer and watching a couple of baseball games on TV. Had dinner around nine. Went to bed probably about ten.
    “The next morning, I was making breakfast when the police showed up…” He looked down at his hands, his eyes watering. His mouth opened and closed slowly, like a fish out of water.
    Snow gave him a moment. “Did you make any calls from your home phone during that time?”
    Still looking at his hands, he shook his head.
    “Were you on your computer at all? Anything that might show you were here?”
    He looked up at Snow, his mouth hanging open. “No.”
    Alice leaned forward. “When you saw Crystal coming out of her front door, how did she seem to you?”
    Miller cocked his head to the side and looked at the carpet in front of his chair. “Well, I must have startled her, because when she saw me walking toward her, her eyes got big. She seemed in a hurry, kind of impatient and nervous.”
    “Does she always act that way toward you?”
    Miller looked at Alice. “Yes, I’d have to say she does. She used to be friendly toward me, but after this last breakup with Laura—I think she’s gotten tired of putting up with me. You know, calling all the time, showing up at the house. Can’t say I blame her, really.”
    “What about you and Laura?” Snow asked. “I’m sure you had arguments…”
    “Yeah, sure. Who doesn’t?”
    “Did it ever get physical?”
    “Never.”
    “You ever hit her?”
    “No.”
    “She ever hit you?”
    “No. She had a temper, but her expressions of anger were always verbal. She liked to slam doors. That was it.”
    “Did you argue a lot?” Snow asked.
    Miller nodded. “Quite a bit. She was a handful.”
    “You never had the urge to hit her, push her…anything?”
    “To be honest, some of the time I wanted to strangle her. But I didn’t. She knew how to piss people off.”
    Snow looked him in the eye. “You didn’t kill her?”
    Miller stared back at him. “No, I didn’t.”
    “Who do you think did?”
    Without hesitation, he said, “Tyson Dole. Laura’s