Fifteen minutes to consider the numerous possibilities. The sick twisted perverse ways she had dreamt, thought wished since descending upon the cold lifeless dead body of her husband lying in the morgue. The pity in the eyes of the police officer that had held her while she screamed in pain and horror identifying Barry positively was burned into her memory forever.<em>Charlotte Franklin </em>did not need their pity. A breath made her chest rise and she seemingly held it in. Thinking more on what she will or would do her blue eyes narrowed.<br/><br/>When he returned she stared at him long and hard her brows lowering. This must be a game to him, a joke. It was cruel to make her think of such things, especially when he just told her he didn't know Barry. Her eyes bore into his own, and though she instinctively wanted to look away she forced herself with gusto to face him down. Her words were full of sober clarity. "I will make sure he is brought to justice,  to rot in prison where he belongs..." She said in a voice that trembled. It wasn't as if she could tell this stranger the dark fantasy of shooting her husbands murderer to watch him bleed out in slow agonizing death.  Those blue eyes challenged him to doubt her.