Read The Accused and the Damned: Book Three, the Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 3) for Free Online

fight.”
    Spencer noted the shattered dishes, looked for the blood but didn’t see any.
    Ross led him into the den. “You’re looking at a shoving match that escalates. Look here. The couch is off its grooves. The sliding glass door is cracked, TV is smashed. They did the ugly dance through here.”
    “Mr. Ketcher was drunk?”
    Ross nodded. “Already talked to his buddies. They’re still at the bar. Told us all about how much Anson had to drink. Bartender remembers him being loud too.”
    “We Mirandize him more than once?”
    “First thing I ordered.”
    “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
    Ross continued. “Alice gets her hands on the phone, manages to dial 911. The call connects but she and Anson must still be fighting. She drops the phone and it ends up under the sofa. Decision point. Either she goes for the phone or she gets out of the house. She does the smart thing and leaves the phone.”
    Spencer nodded. So far, so good. It fit all the facts as he knew them, though he didn’t like Ross being presumptuous enough to connect the dots for him. It was up to him, as the prosecutor, to build a case that could be sold to the jury. Ross was a good cop but Spencer was the lawyer here.
    Spencer said, “This reeks of heat of the moment. If he’d planned to do this, he would have had a plausible defense lined up.”
    “I don’t think Mensa is going to ask Anson to join anytime soon.”
    Spencer shook his head. “Nobody’s that dumb. No rational man would plan to use that as a defense. That means he had no plan. No plan means no premeditation. No premeditation, it’s not a capital case.”
    Ross’s lip twitched. “That’s all backwards. You’re saying Anson won’t get death because his defense is weak?”
    Spencer didn’t remember asking Ross for his opinion on the legal matter. “I’m putting myself in the defense’s shoes. All they need is reasonable doubt. I’m the one has to climb the mountain.”
    Ross said, “Look at all her money. Look at the couple’s history.”
    Spencer shook his head no. “Mr. Ketcher doesn’t see one red cent unless he’s acquitted. And he won’t be. Not with that defense. But even if it somehow worked for him, you can be sure as shit the Towsons will go the civil route. If I don’t get him, they’ll get him with wrongful death. Burden of proof is lower in civil court. Bye-bye money.”
    “You give the guy too much credit if you think he planned that far ahead.”
    “Let’s see the body.”
    Ross led him down a long hallway, past a bathroom, into a family room filled with paintings. Used drop cloths covered most of the furniture and the hardwood floor.
    Four guys from the crime lab worked the room. They moved out of Ross’s way so the cop and the prosecutor could see the body on the floor.
    Spencer had seen murder vics before but it always turned his stomach. Alice’s face looked like a slab of bruised meat. One eye was swollen shut, the other half open. Her neck appeared both bloated and shrunk.
    “Broken neck,” Ross said. “That requires a lot of force. Somebody grabbed her and twisted her neck.”
    Spencer checked the area around the victim. One easel had been knocked over, a painting face-down on the floor. Signs of a struggle everywhere.
    He’d seen enough. He motioned for Ross to follow him out of the house. “We’re positively certain nobody else was in this house?”
    “As certain as we can be. My guys will keep looking.”
    Spencer grew thoughtful. “Assume somebody else did this. Who would Mr. Ketcher take a fall for?”
    Ross frowned. “He wouldn’t take a fall for somebody killing his own wife. And nobody else would do this. Alice was a saint. Anson’s the one that’s hated. The guys at the bar are only drinking buddies. The only real friend he’s got is Giles Tyson.”
    Spencer chuckled. “Perfect. The last person anybody would want as a character witness right now is that quack.”
    The two men shared a professional laugh. Then