SAMANTHA PRINCE DIDN’T go home immediately.
She made a brief stopover at a 24-hours-open department store along the way and bought all the groceries she needed and more.
Detective Davies kept a tab on her till she arrived home, and parked a couple of blocks away when Samantha Prince pulled into the lot outside her apartment building. Ordinarily, he might have considered it suspicious that the widow didn’t return to her deceased husband’s apartment. Most people, he realized, especially women, experience a sort of psychological terror following a death, particular if it involved a close relative. And that fear was amplified if they were the only one in the house, like in the case of Samantha Prince.
But even then, Lee Davies subtly wondered why, in the first place, she’d moved back in with her late husband if they were supposed to be getting a divorce?
He grimaced as he watched her go into the building, trying to shake the thought off and to chide himself for even entertaining the notion in his mind. The poor woman seriously didn’t come across as a killer, and Mr. Prince had reportedly been scorched from his insides. Except if she knew how to perform diabolical magic, how in the world could Samantha or any other person pull that kind of murder off?
And assuming she got help from the Sisters, what about the other bizarre murders that had rocked the town in the previous week? Did she or the Sisters have anything to do with those as well? It seemed unlikely, thought Davies, with a stern expression.
What a notion, he thought to himself, deciding that he had to do some more diggings when he got back to the department – find out if, apart from her husband, Samantha Prince had any link, even if remotely, with the other people that had died within the last couple of days.
If there was, then that could turn the table sharply.
Samantha disappeared into the building, and Davies kept watching.