Page 119 of Hell Hath No Fury

“I agree with my partner. It’s amazing. How long have you been metal detecting?”

She visibly relaxed. “Almost ten years. It’s become my passion in life.”

“Is there any money in it?” Fergusson sounded genuinely curious. “I mean, have you found anything of value and sold it?”

“Oh, I don’t sell my treasures, and I don’t deliberately search for what you would think of as valuable. I like old things. Everyday items that our parents or grandparents used. It helps me connect to the past.”

“Interesting.” Fergusson glanced at his notebook. “How long have you lived around here?”

“All my life. My parents had property outside of Eldersville.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“Burgettstown High School.” She looked at Matthias. “With Emma.”

“What about college?”

“I studied Health Services Administration at West Virginia University.”

Fergusson asked a few more questions about her degrees and her current work situation before steering the topic in another direction. “Do you have a big family?”

Her forehead creased. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“We’re just trying to get to know you. Are your parents still alive?”

“Just my dad. He lives in Florida.”

“Brothers? Sisters?”

“I’m an only child, and I’m pretty sure you already know all this.”

“We do,” Fergusson admitted. “We also know about your uncle. Patrick Winslow.”

Fran’s eyes darted toward Matthias, but she forced her gaze back to the trooper. She probably realized she’d neglected to mention the relationship yesterday. Her voice tightened. “It was a shock to hear he’d died. And in such a horrible manner.”

“We understand his immediate family is all gone.”

“I guess that’s true. His and my mom’s siblings both died of cancer.”

“He has no children?”

“No. He was married briefly years ago. I don’t think the marriage lasted a year, and they didn’t have any kids, thank goodness.”

“Are you aware you’re the sole beneficiary named in his Will?”

Fran’s chin came up, and her eyes grew wary. “I knew. He told me he was getting his affairs in order a couple of years ago. Is that why you’re here? You think I had something to do with Patrick’s death?”

“Did you?” Fergusson asked.

“No.” Her tone suggested it was the stupidest question she’d ever been asked. “First of all, Patrick and I haven’t been especially close, but we get—got—along well. I fully expected that one day he’d get married and change his Will. I never expected to actually inherit anything from him.”

“Was he seeing anyone?”

Fran stared at Fergusson for a few long moments before answering, “I wouldn’t know.”

“Do you have any idea how much you stand to gain? How much he was worth?”

“No.” She leaned forward as if ready to come out of her seat. “And I don’t care. I have a good job. I own my home. My car is paid for. I don’t need his money.” She extended an arm, indicating one of her display shelves. “Do I look like I crave the so-called good life?”