There comes a point in everyone's life that would turn things around, which would change life forever – for the better or the worse. These turning points would usually define who we are, or rather would be and would define us for the rest of our lives. Or not. For me it was… always trouble that seemed to find me almost naturally. But usually I was able to find my way out of said trouble – generally with a bit of help of Ranger.

Little did I know that the trouble that was about to find me would outshine everything even by my standards. It wouldn't be just bad, it would be worse than worst.

As most times it all was Joyce Barnhard's fault. I'm not even surprised. But to be fair, she couldn't really be blamed, seeing that she had been found dead several weeks ago. In some back alley, stabbed to death. Her face had been cut badly, making it almost impossible to recognize her. They only found out it was Joyce when they took her prints and ran them. Due to heavy rainfall that night when the murder took place there wasn't much that could be taken from the crime scene to help the investigation. To say I was happy would have been wrong for so many reasons – it was a death of a person after all. But I wasn't particular distraught either. It was Joyce after all - but even she didn't deserve to die. No one does. Especially not like that – in a back alley, stabbed and cut and most likely alone.

Everyone knew that Joyce and me were frenemies at best. We didn't hate each other's gut but we weren't best friends either. On good days she was a mild pain in my ass, on others she could bring up murderous thoughts. Joyce was… well, cheap, sleazy and a tramp to be honest. She had managed to screw most people in Trenton one way or another. If she wasn't sleeping with you, she scammed your for money or had ulterior motives why she was so interested in you. I hate saying this – especially after she is dead and my mother raised me to never speak ill of the dead – but she always had something or some scheme going on. If she wasn't after your money, she was after your man because she hated your guts and wanted to pay you back for whatever you ever did to her.

Her list of associates was long, the list of people who hated her guts even longer. Trenton PD was sure as hell not having a picnic with this one. Until a few days ago that is. I had been early on ruled out as suspect, seeing that I had an alibi and no real motive. Generally speaking I'd say one didn't need a real motive. It was Joyce after all.

And then things changed – a lot. So much so that I moved not only back on the list of suspects, I actually became the list of suspects. Turns out the initial time of death was wrong and the correct one was a time I had no alibi for. That's the downside of your job as a bounty Hunter. You spent a lot of time on your own. I'd say that actually is a good thing, until you need an alibi that is. RangeMan – bless their hearts – argued that they could provide data from my trackers but as my misfortune went on it just happened that the devices and systems had been down that night for maintenance.

It also didn't help that witnesses had stepped forward, reporting of words between me and Joyce the day before her death. I might or might not have left angry, and yelling something about one of us killing the other – more precisely me killing her. Of course everyone who knew me and Joyce knew that threats like that were issued regularly without any substance. But… well… it didn't help that she was found dead a day later. I had been at her place and Joyce lived in a rather busy part of town. Plenty of people had seen me leave, yelling. We had words about her idea of being a bounty hunter again and deciding to cash in on my cases which Vinnie had oh-so-conveniently given to her as well. It wasn't helping my case when the murder weapon was found. Behind a dumpster. With Joyce blood on it. And partials that matched my prints. I couldn't explain it, had no way of arguing, other than "I didn't do it" and "I have never seen that knife in my life". But guess what? Lines like these didn't impress the cops. I assumed they heard that on a daily base really, well… when you were working homicides anyway.

What started as me playing it off as just something that would go away as quickly as it has shown up moved soon enough to serious business. It wasn't going away. Quite the opposite – it started moving towards prosecution and trial with a jury and everything.

My mother was quick in hiring me a defense lawyer – aka my brother in law – who tried arguing that the assumptions and accusations so far were nonsense. I might have wanted to add that yes, my brother in law was a lawyer, but he wasn't particularly good at this. And I was almost certain he'd never had to deal with a murder case before. But then again, how do you explain the knife? And the prints? Even from her grave Joyce managed to screw me somehow.

I tried investigating myself but when you are the main and only suspect people are less than forthcoming. They see you as the one who did it and weren't particularly helpful.

For the police it became a clear case. The fact that half the town knew about my rather complicated relationship to Joyce and my ex-husband Richard Orr and having found both of them screwing the hell out of each other didn't help either. Regardless that this had been years ago and I had long since moved on and gotten divorced. It still was considered as part of my motive and as what psychologists refer to as delayed revenge. Apparently it is a women's thing.

I had people up and down Trenton coming to my hopeful rescue. From my parents and sister, to my lawyer – and brother in law – even my nieces were dragged to the police station. Lula and Connie, as well as MaryLou, Vinnie and everyone else from my direct or distant family came in, giving statements and making sure to tell everyone I'd never kill anyone. Everyone who was still around at RangeMan was stepping forward. Morelli even was one step away from giving me a false alibi for the night. The only reason really why he didn't do it was me and my conscious. If it was discovered that he lied it could cost him his job and career. And I certainly didn't want that. I did what I was always told and raised with. "Always trust in the system." So trusting I did. They wouldn't send someone who was innocent to prison, right?

Wrong!