“Your secret admirer might shovel you out of our driveway again tomorrow.”

Trudi laughed at her mother’s words. “Me, with an admirer! That’s as likely as a snow angel coming to my aid.”

Trudi crossed the living room, and with the sleeve of her robe wiped the cold misty windowpane. “Ray’s out of town for another day, but he’s already given me an extension of time on my proposal. So snow or no snow, tomorrow is the deadline.”

She watched large flakes fall under the street light. Ray was not only a wonderful boss, but a rare single man with whom she had much in common, even the same February birthday. If only Ray would see me as someone more than a coworker.

As if her mother read her mind, she touched Trudi’s arm. “You know what they say about good things coming to those who wait.” Then she put her arms around Trudi. “Don’t give up hope.”

“Did you kill your wife, Clark?” Katheryn stared at him, awaiting his response.

The question clearly flustered Clark. “No! Of course not. I wanted out of my marriage, but I didn’t want her dead.”

Miles circled him, watching the mock testimony. “I understand your indignation, but I still don’t see you connecting with Elle. You may have wanted out of the marriage, but a jury will want to see that you still cared for her on some level.”

“He’s right.” Katheryn toyed with the edges of the deposition. “It looks bad that you stood to gain financially from the split, not to mention that you have a mistress. It’s textbook as far as the prosecution is concerned.”

“She had a heart attack three weeks after I filed. How did I still get charged with murder?” Clark looked like a deer caught in headlights. “The doctor said it was this rare thing called takotsubo cardiomyopathy. Some kind of heart thing.”

“Broken heart syndrome,” Miles said, reading the autopsy. “It’s rarely lethal, but it happens. We could argue for suicide, since she had antidepressants in her system and in her mouth.

“No,” Clark said flatly. “Elle was a Christian. She didn’t believe in suicide.”