She was biting down on her lower lip. "It must have been the gun, but the inspector asked me about that when they found it and I told them I didn't know anything about it."

"What about the gun?"

"It was Larry's gun… he was shot with his own gun. But at first they didn't know it was our gun, it wasn't found in the house."

"I don't understand."

"We kept it in the headboard, but they found it like two weeks later. The inspector said somebody found it under a dumpster and it had my fingerprints on it. I told him of course it had my fingerprints on it, I pick it up to dust inside the headboard every couple of weeks."

Hardy let his silence answer.

She shook her head. "I'd been out jogging. We live, lived-" She made a fist and hit the table. "You know what I'm trying to say."

"You're doing fine," he said. "Just tell me what happened."

Jennifer stared at her hand, the balled up fist. She covered it with her other hand and brought it back toward her. "The house is on Twin Peaks, you know, pretty far up. It was morning, maybe nine-thirty or ten o'clock. Larry lets me… I mean I usually run three times a week. When I got home there was a police car in front of the house, and the man was standing by the front door, which I remember thinking was strange because if he had knocked why wouldn't Larry or Matt have opened it, right?"

"Right."

"But he was just standing there, so I opened the gate and asked if I could help him and he said he'd gotten a call about some shots. First some yelling and then some shots."

"Did you have a fight that morning? You and Larry?"

She seemed to duck again and Hardy found himself getting a little impatient with it. But her hand came back to his sleeve, tacitly asking for his indulgence. "How long had you been gone?" he asked.

"When? Oh, an hour. I had to be back within the hour." Seeing Hardy's reaction, she pushed on. "Larry worried if I wasn't home. He knew where I ran and how long it should take, so that… the hour thing… it was like a rule."