Love Can Be Murder

involved?"
    Jolie shrugged. "I don't know, but it seemed like too big of a coincidence to ignore. I thought if I could take the photo out of the frame, I'd be able to compare the film processing date and the paper. I went into Sammy's bathroom to remove the photo, but I couldn't find anything to use as a screwdriver."
    "So you were the one who ransacked the medicine cabinet?"
    Jolie nodded. "And the only thing I could find was a razor blade. It didn't work and I cut myself." She held up her re-bandaged hand.
    "You said that's where the blood came from."
    "The blood on my gown? Yes. Where is the photo now?"
    "Taken into evidence, I would assume."
    "Then you can look into my theory?"
    Salyers gave her a skeptical look. "Sure. Okay, let's back up. What about the money that's missing?"
    "I don't know anything about that."
    "Ms. Sanders said you were aware that she normally carried a lot of cash."
    "Anyone who knew Sammy well knew she carried cash."
    "Did your friend Ms. Wren know?"
    Jolie remembered the conversation she'd had with Carlotta about the hush money Sammy was trying to give her. Her heart sank when she realized that lifting cash from Sammy's purse would solve her friend's financial dilemma. "I might have mentioned it."
    "The money was found in the pool filter. You, Ms. Wren, Ms. Kizer, and Mr. Underwood were the only ones who took a swim."
    "We fell in," Jolie said.
    "Are you sure you didn't jump in?"
    She frowned. "Why would I have jumped in?"
    Salyers shrugged. "Maybe you couldn't live with yourself."
    Jolie's breath stuck in her throat. "You think I was trying to kill myself? That's crazy!"
    "Or maybe you were trying to destroy evidence."
    "I wasn't," Jolie said evenly.
    Salyers leaned forward, settling her chair on the floor. "Ms. Goodman, how well do you know Carlotta Wren and Hannah Kizer?"
    "Carlotta and I work together at Neiman's. Hannah is a friend of Carlotta's. I've known them for less than a week."
    "So you really don't know them that well, do you?"
    Jolie splayed her hands. "No, but they seem nice."
    "Nice? They trespass for kicks. And the one with the pierced tongue, besides fooling around with a married man, looks like she's into some pretty kinky stuff."
    "You'd have to ask her."
    "Have either of them ever mentioned owning a gun?"
    "No." Then a memory surfaced, and she snapped her fingers. "But Sammy owns a gun. She was at Neiman's yesterday and she paid for her purchase in cash." Jolie decided not to mention the five-hundred-dollar tip that Sammy had offered on the chance it might lead to questions she'd rather not answer. "When she opened her purse, I saw a gun."
    But Salyers seemed unfazed. "Ms. Sanders informed us that she has a permit to carry a concealed weapon, that she kept a nine-millimeter handgun in her purse, and that it's missing. Do you know if the weapon you saw was a nine-millimeter?"
    "I couldn't say—I'm not familiar with guns. Was that the type of gun used to kill Gary?"
    "Officers are still on the scene searching for the murder weapon."
    "Everyone at the party had access to Sammy's gun." Jolie said. "I saw the green purse sticking out from underneath her bed. I pushed it back."
    "Does that mean we'll find your fingerprints on the purse?"
    Jolie closed her eyes briefly, then nodded.
    "Did anyone see you push the purse underneath the bed?"
    Loath to implicate Beck, she hesitated, but she'd seen the police officers on the scene talking to him. "Beck Underwood was in the room."
    Salyers' eyebrow arched. "You and Mr. Underwood were in Ms. Sanders' bedroom?"
    Her cheeks warmed. "We were taking a tour. Mr. Underwood had asked me to help him find a house—he was pointing out his likes and dislikes."
    "Are you and Mr. Underwood friends?"
    "Acquaintances."
    "No offense, Ms. Goodman, but how did you become acquainted with one of the richest men in Atlanta?"
    So it was obvious to everyone that they didn't exactly move in the same circles. "I sold him a pair of shoes at Neiman's, and our paths crossed again at a couple of parties."
    "Parties that you and your friends crashed?"
    Jolie bit the end of her tongue, then nodded. "But I went to the parties looking for people who might know—have known—Gary." Her voice caught and she inhaled deeply. "That's when I ran into Roger LeMon."
    "I see."
    " He was at the party tonight," Jolie said, lurching forward on the hard chair. "LeMon's the one you should be questioning—he probably killed Gary!"
    Salyers nodded, but Jolie could tell the