Cherrie Mae threw Letty June another look. "Let's get you in the house." She pulled a suitcase and her purse from the backseat of her car and hurried toward me. "And let's lock the doh."
A faint smile pinched my lips.
Inside—with the door locked—I showed Cherrie Mae to my guest bedroom, where she put down her things. "Thank you." She looked around at the light blue walls and quilt on the bed. "It's pretty."
Settled in the den, each of us with a Coke, she told me about seein Eva Bradmeyer. Now that was a story. Cherrie Mae had way more courage than I did. Made my fight with Letty June seem petty. I told her about it anyway.
Cherrie Mae made a sound in her throat. "Stevie's not the only person who's had run-ins with that girl. Why she got to be so mean?"
"In league with the devil, for sure."
My thoughts went spinnin back to my visit with Stevie at the jail.
"It was her fault."
"Who?"
"She was mean to me."
I blinked at Cherrie Mae. "What if he was talkin about Letty June?"
"Huh?"
"Stevie." I focused on my lap, strugglin to reason through it. "In jail he kept sayin 'she was mean to me, she made me do it.' What if he wasn't talkin about Erika at all? He could've been thinkin about what happened at the factory."
Cherrie Mae worked her mouth. "Maybe. I'd a had to hear y'all's conversation."
I played it again in my head. "It fits. I mean, you had to be there. It's the way he said it. Stevie wouldn't answer my questions directly. He'd go off in a tangent."
"But why would he even be thinkin bout Letty June when he's sittin in jail for murderin Erika?"
I shook my head. "My brother's mind . . . But really, it does fit. When the cops questioned him, they probably told him people at work had seen how mad he was. And how did he explain that? He'd have known it was Letty June who told them. He'd have blamed his bein in jail on her."
Cherrie Mae scratched her jaw. I could see her mind workin.
My body heated up. This was important. Felt right . . .
"You know what"—I looked around for my cell phone—"I should call Carl Cypress. He's the one who told me Letty June talked to the police. I got so mad, I cut him off. Now I wonder what he was . . ."
Where was my phone? I pushed off the couch and knocked around, searchin for it. Found it in the kitchen.
I had to look up Carl's number. He answered after a long three rings.
"Carl! It's Deena." I walked back into the den, hovered near the TV. Cherrie Mae perched on the couch, her gaze fixed on me. "Remember when we were talkin about Letty June outside the police station? You told me she talked to the cops about Stevie. Then you started to say, 'But, Deena—' I cut you off. What were you goin to say?"
"Oh, yeah. I was gonna tell you the rest of the story. I think he was mad because of Letty June. I think she played a trick on him, just before their shift was over. She spilled a bunch of cleaner, knowing he'd have to stay late and mop up the mess."
"She did that?"
"I think so. Because as she left work I saw her cackling to herself, like she'd just pulled off some major prank. And then I saw the mess at the women's bathroom—the one near the side door that all the workers use? I felt sorry for Stevie, but I couldn't help him clean it. I was backed up in my paperwork and had to stay late to finish. When I finally came out of my office, Stevie was still there on his hands and knees, stripped down to his underwear. Soppin up the cleaner with rolls of paper towels and cussin. He was startled when he saw me. I think he thought he was the only one there."
"In his underwear?"
Cherrie Mae bugged her eyes.
"Well, it was either that or get his uniform full of soap. Plus, like I said, he thought he was alone."
His uniform . . . Mike Phillips went home that night with the wrong uniform . . .
"You didn't see anyone else around when you left, Carl?"
"No."
"What time did you leave?"
"Around 11:30."
Eleven-thirty. And Stevie was still workin. He showed up at my house at midnight. After he'd stopped to wash in Turtle Creek.
He had no time to kill Erika. My brother had no time to kill her.
"Thing is, Deena, after I heard Stevie had been arrested, and about the blood on his clothes, I didn't know what to think. He wasn't seen running home until 12:30."
No, it wasn't that late!
"That could have given him time to get to Erika's house. I thought . . . if he had, was I to blame? I'd seen him mad. Hadn't said anything to him, tried to calm him down. What if he'd left work still raging, and then took it out on Erika?"
"Why would he do that? Why not go after Letty June?"
Carl hesitated. "Because she's married. All the victims were single."
"Oh, come on, Carl."
"I didn't know! I really didn't. And I just—"
"Did you tell the cops all this?"
"I had to. They interviewed me yesterday, since I manage that second shift."
"And you told them everything, about Letty June and the spilled cleaner?"
"Yes."
The witness who'd said Stevie ran home at 12:30. I had to find out who that was.
"Stevie got her back though," Carl said.
"Huh? How?"
"He spilled cleaner in Letty June's locker. Made quite a mess. She didn't find it until the next day."
So she hadn't been lyin about that part.
My brother's voice rose in my head: "I fixed her." Could that have meant what he did to Letty June? Not Erika?
"Thank you, Carl. Thanks very much."
"Hope I've helped." Compassion rang in his voice.
"You have. More than you know."
I ended the call and stared at Cherrie Mae. She leaned forward. "What he say?"
Half in a daze, I walked to the couch and sank into it. Told her everything.
Her eyebrows rose high. "Stevie took off his uniform. There was a time when he was separated from his uniform."
"Yeah, but you know what? I even asked Stevie if he'd taken off his uniform for any reason. He told me no."
"He musta been lyin."
"Guess so. Then we've got Mike comin home with a different uniform than he left with. Could he have somehow gotten Stevie's?"
Cherrie Mae frowned. "But the timin . . . We know Mike left work at 11:00, or at least before 11:30 cause Carl said nobody else was around then."
"But he didn't get home until 11:50. Which definitely gives him time to be at Erika's . . ."
We looked at each other.
"You think he did help Mayor B somehow?" I whispered.
Cherrie Mae looked chilled to the bone. "He must have. Stevie couldn't a done it. But Mike had the time."
My mind bounced all over the place. I didn't know which trail to follow first. "I have to find out who the witness was who claimed Stevie came home at 12:30. That person is wrong. If the time was put sooner, and added to Carl's statements, the cops would have to see Stevie didn't have time to commit the murder."
"What if you told the police Stevie came to your house at midnight?"
"I would if I thought they'd listen. But they won't. They'll just say 'why didn't you tell us before, Deena?' They'll accuse me of tryin to give my brother an alibi."
"Maybe Trent knows who the witness is."
Of course! "I'll bet he does. With his network through this town?"
"Would he tell you?"
Would he? I thought of his invitation to go to New York. How he'd said he loves me. Shouldn't he tell me, if he cared that much?
But then—he'd demand to know why it was so important. And if I told him Stevie had shown up here at midnight, Trent wou
ld be ticked that I'd kept that from him.
I gazed at the cell phone, still in my hand. "I don't know."
"It's worth a try."
"Yeah."
I raised my phone to dial Trent—and it rang. I peered at the ID, then clicked on the line. "Tully?"
"Yeah, it's me." She sounded breathless. "I figured it out. Mike didn't do it."
"What? How?"
"Is Cherrie Mae there?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I'm coming over."
I locked eyes with Cherrie Mae. "Mike didn't do it." Tully sounded so excited. But the things we'd just discovered would knock her for a loop all over again. Now Stevie looked totally innocent. While her husband looked more guilty than ever.
Chapter 37
Tully
I sat down to pour out my thoughts to Deena and Cherrie Mae, wanting to shout. Do somersaults and cartwheels. But all I could do was perch on Deena's couch. She was on the other end, Cherrie Mae in the rocking chair. They looked . . . what? Almost worried. Maybe because the exhaustion and excitement made me so shaky.
Mom hadn't wanted me to leave, of course. "I don't want you driving back here alone when it's dark. And it's practically dark now."
"Don't worry. I'll call you. We'll figure it out." I slammed out the door.
On Maxwell Street I'd had to park my car halfway down the block. I was panting by the time I reached Deena's house.
"Okay, here it is." I drummed my fingers on the couch. " I should have seen it before."
Cherrie Mae and Deena exchanged a look.
"Remember Erika telling me she was 'coming into some big money'? Then—think about it—Ted Arnoldson gets in trouble for accepting a bribe from Mayor B."
Deena screwed up her face. "Mayor B was bribin Erika too?"
"No. But what if Erika was blackmailing him?"
Cherrie Mae leaned forward. "Why?"
"Because she was pregnant with his baby."
Deena drew in a breath.
"And of course he didn't want anyone to know. Erika must have threatened to tell the world if he didn't give her a bunch of money. Meanwhile she told Mike the baby was his. She wanted him to go away with her—on Mayor B's dime. She had the perfect setup."
Cherrie Mae shook her head. "Mm-mm. 'Let the winged Fancy roam; pleasure never is at home.'"
Deena and I looked at her. She shrugged. "I think you right bout Erika and Mayor B." She looked to Deena. "Didn't get a chance to get to that part when I was tellin you bout seein Eva."
My mouth opened. "You saw Mrs. B?"
"Yup. I told her the police gon come knockin on her door to see if Mayor B was at home all last Tuesday night. And that she shouldn't lie. Cause I know he wasn't. She finally admitted it. He left home soon before the factory closed."
"You're kidding!" There was the final piece of my puzzle. "And he went to Erika's, right? He planned to kill her because she was blackmailing him. Kill her the same way he'd killed his other victims."
"That's why he done it." Cherrie Mae pressed a hand to her cheek. "I never thought bout blackmail. I just thought maybe they argued, and things got out a hand."
"No, I think he planned it. I started thinking about what Ted told you, Cherrie Mae—how Mayor B asked for the pictures of the first five victims ten days ago. That was just a few days before Erika was killed. That's no coincidence. But why would he take such a chance, bribing a police officer?"
Deena's mouth hung open. "Yeah, why?"
"Because he was so paranoid about killing her exactly like he did the others. He wanted to study those pictures, make sure he didn't slip up. It was enough that Erika was so much younger. And that the autopsy would show she was pregnant. This could not look like a murder outside the Closet Killings. Because no one had ever suspected Mayor B of them. To help even more, he took Erika's ring so he could plant it somewhere. But then once Erika was dead, he got even more paranoid. He wanted her picture to check his work. When you discovered the file in his drawer, Cherrie Mae, he must have come unglued. He had to get rid of that ring as fast as he could. The search of our house was perfect."
Deena folded her arms. "So where does Mike fit in? How'd he get Erika's blood on him?"
"He went to her house after work to confront her. And she was already dead."
Deena blinked.
"Can't you see how he'd totally panic? How he'd be afraid to tell anyone? If the cops knew he'd been at Erika's house, he'd be their first suspect."
Cherrie Mae frowned. "He'd a had to go inside, though."
I nodded. "He was too mad to just leave when she didn't answer the door. Maybe he went around back. Found that door unlocked. He went in, saw her in the closet. Maybe he touched her to see if she was dead. That's when he got the blood on his hands. Then he took off."
"It works." Cherrie Mae shot Deena a meaningful look. "That part works."
"Yeah," Deena said. "Maybe it does."
Maybe? "What do you mean 'that part'?"
Silent messages flowed between Deena and Cherrie Mae. Did they look skeptical or relieved? I sat up straighter. "What's going on?"
Deena focused on Cherrie Mae. "So . . . Mike left the factory about the time Stevie was discoverin the mess Letty June made."
Cherrie Mae nodded. "And at some point after that, when he thinks everbody's gone, Stevie takes off his uniform."
I twisted my head toward her. "What are you talking about?"
She hesitated. "Tully, we learned somethin just a little while ago."
"What?"
Deena went over what Carl Cypress had said. I couldn't take it in—too much to process. "But how does that fit with everything I just told you?"
We fell silent.
Deena gasped. "I think I know!" She closed her eyes for a moment. "Okay, so Mike goes to Erika's. He finds her in the closet. Maybe he really tries to help her. Like pulls her out to see if she's still alive. Her blood ends up all down the front of his uniform. When he sees she's dead, he runs out. Maybe he thinks clear enough to wipe away any prints before he leaves. But he can't go home covered in blood. And like you say, he's panicked. The scene at Erika's doesn't take long, and when he left the factory Stevie was just about to clean up the mess. Mikes drives back to the factory, thinkin maybe Stevie will still be there and the door will be unlocked. He plans to sneak into the men's locker room and get a clean uniform. But maybe he can't find one. Then he notices Stevie's uniform on the floor. Mike snatches it up and puts it on, then runs out, still panicked, leavin his bloodied clothes behind. Stevie comes back to put his uniform on—and it's all bloody."
Deena's gaze bounced from me to Cherrie Mae. "That's why, every time I asked Stevie about the blood on his uniform, he kept sayin, 'I can't tell you that.' He didn't mean he refused to tell me. He meant he truly didn't know."
I stared at her, trying to picture it all. It seemed right, but it couldn't be. "Mike wouldn't have set Stevie up like that."
Deena held up a palm. "He didn't mean to set Stevie up. He just did what he had to do."
"But later, when Stevie was arrested because of that uniform. You're saying Mike knew—and said nothing."
The words hung in the air. Deena looked away.
My vision blurred. I'd found a way to make my husband totally innocent. A man I could believe in. Now he was tainted again.
Cherrie Mae shifted in her chair. "Tully, I understand why you sad bout that. But it all fits. You have any other explanation why Stevie got that blood on his uniform?"
I gazed at my lap, blinking back tears. Who was I kidding? Mike wasn't totally innocent, as much as I wanted him to be. He wasn't a killer. But he did have an affair with Erika. He did think that baby was his. And he'd lied to me. Hit me. Choked me.
My throat cinched. I pressed two fingers again
st my mouth. "No."
I could feel them exchanging more looks. Like they were so much older and wiser than me. Like I should just admit the truth about my rotten husband.
Cherrie Mae leaned over and laid her hand on my arm. Her skin felt paper-thin and dry. She patted me, and I could feel the love in her touch.
"Look," Deena said. "I don't like what Mike did to my brother. But I can . . . understand it." Her words didn't come easily. "Mike was backed against the wall. If he admitted that uniform was his, he'd be in jail."
Which he was now anyway, thanks to someone setting him up. How ironic. Cherrie Mae probably had a quote for that.
An awkward minute ticked by. Deena turned to look out the window. Darkness had fallen. She got up and closed her curtains.
Cherrie Mae plopped her hands on the arms of the rocking chair. "Well, guess where that leaves us. Back with nobody but Mayor B."
Deena crossed her arms. "Yeah."
A picture of Mike in jail flashed in my mind. And Stevie—he'd been there three days now. Both men innocent. Both surely scared to death. "We have to prove all this."
Deena wagged her head. "We need to go see Chief Cotter together tomorrow mornin. Lay out everything. But first we have to figure out how we can prove it."
"Chief Cotter already has some of the evidence," I said. "Like Carl's statement about Stevie staying late to clean. And he knows Erika's ring was planted. We just have to help him put it all together."
"Yeah." Deena sighed. "But our dear mayor's denyin doin anything but plantin that ring."
"Wait just a minute." Satisfaction coated Cherrie Mae's voice. "I know how the chief can break Mayor B."
Just like that, I knew what was coming. We both said the answer at the same time.
"DNA."
Deena stared at us.
I could just picture taking the man down. I couldn't wait. "Mayor B knows Erika's baby was his. They found that baby in her autopsy. They may even be running its DNA already. He knows if they take a sample of his DNA, it'll be a match. That'll prove the affair and give him motive to kill Erika. Add that to the fact he planted her ring in our house . . ."
"Mm-hmm. And who knows what they gon find if they check his bank accounts." Cherrie Mae rocked in her chair. "If he done give her some cash already, they'll see the withdrawals."
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