Deena cupped her jaw. "What if the baby wasn't his? I mean, we know Erika was a liar. What if the baby really was Mike's, and she was lyin to Mayor B? The DNA won't lead to him."
I sat too stunned to speak.
Cherrie Mae waved her hands in the air. "Wait now. Mayor B don't know bout Mike bein with Erika too. If he did, he wouldn't a let her blackmail him. We just got to make sure the police don't let him know."
Deena tilted her head. "You don't think Chief Cotter told him when he was in that interrogation room?"
"No time. It was just minutes I was there talkin to Ted Arnoldson. Then Ted goes in and confesses. Besides, that wasn't their focus. Chief Cotter had Mayor B in a lie—that's what mattered."
Cherrie Mae was right. "Mayor B will cave, because as far as he knows, the DNA will lead to him. Even if it doesn't, by that time they'll have his confession."
"Okay," Deena said. "But Mike will have to admit to goin to Erika's that night. And they'll want to know why. Which means he'll have to tell them about the affair."
"That's all right." Cherrie Mae nodded. "The police will keep these men separate. That's the way it works. They'll talk to one, not lettin the other know what's goin on. In the end the whole truth can come out."
"Mike will admit it." For once I wouldn't let my husband intimidate me. I'd confront him with everything I'd figured out. Tell him if he didn't tell the cops, I would. "Maybe he's already thinking of coming clean. Better to admit finding someone dead than being blamed for the murder."
My cell phone rang from inside my purse. Deena's head snapped around, looking for it. "Sit, Tully, I'll get it." She brought my purse over.
Mom was on the line. "Tully, it's 10:00. Time for us to go to bed. And it's dark. I don't want to be worried about you coming home."
"I know. I . . ." There was no way I could leave now. The three of us still had so much to talk about. I pulled the phone away from my mouth. "Deena, can I just sleep here? I'll stay on the couch."
"No, no, take the guest room," Cherrie Mae said. "I'll take the couch."
Deena nodded. "Do it."
I told my mother I was staying. She wasn't happy. "Don't worry, I'm not alone. I'm with Deena and Cherrie Mae." And Mike was still in jail.
"We'll take good care of her!" Cherrie Mae called.
"All right." Clearly Mom still didn't like it. "Call me tomorrow when you're back at the house."
"I will."
I ended the call. Leaned over and set my phone on the coffee table.
Cherrie Mae checked her watch. "It is gettin late. Had no idea." She pushed to her feet. "I need paper, Deena. We got to sit here if it takes all night and go through everthing we need to tell the chief tomorrow."
Deena went to fetch the paper. She returned with a small notebook and a pen, and gave them to Cherrie Mae. "One thing I'd still like to know." She sat back down on the couch. "Who told Chief Cotter they saw Stevie runnin home last Tuesday at 12:30? That person's a half-hour off. And that's an important half hour."
Cherrie Mae folded back the cover of the notebook. "You were gon call Trent. Think he's up this late?"
"Oh, he's up." Deena reached for her phone. Then hesitated. She regarded the cell, worry crisscrossing her face. Her eyes flicked from me to Cherrie Mae. With a sigh she raised up the phone to punch in the number. Then abruptly set it down.
She spread her hands. "Before I call Trent . . . there's somethin I need to tell you."
Chapter 38
Deena
"What is it?" Tully's voice sounded defensive. She was clingin like crazy to her husband's innocence and didn't want anything to rock it.
I waved a hand. "It's just . . . when I talk to Trent, he might say things . . ."
"Things you haven't told us?"
"No, no. Not at all. It's about Trent and me. Thing is—he's asked me to marry him."
Shocked silence.
"He's goin off to New York in about a month to write for the New York Times. They came after him because of his Pulitzer Prize. He wants me to go with him."
Tully gaped at me. "Are you going?"
"I don't know. I mean, I don't really . . . My first thought was no. But with all this goin on there's been times when I thought runnin away from Amaryllis wouldn't be so bad."
Cherrie Mae screwed up her face. "Do you love him?"
"No."
"Then why you even thinkin bout this?"
"Because . . ." I tossed my head. "Look, I don't want to get into this right now. I just want you to know if he says somethin about New York—that's what he's talkin about."
Tully's eyes narrowed. "If he loves you so much, doesn't he talk to you? Hasn't he already told you everything he knows about this case? So what haven't you told us?"
"No, he hasn't."
"Why not?"
"Because . . . he's always the reporter first. He won't tell me about anyone who talks to him confidentially. But he sure does try to pull out of me what I know."
Tully flicked her eyes. "I can see why you'd want to marry him."
I glared at her. As if she should talk.
"Well, good." Cherrie Mae smacked the notebook against her knees. "Thanks for tellin us, Deena. We'll keep your secret. Now go on, call him."
Cherrie Mae—ever the peacemaker. I gave Tully another long look. She blinked away.
I dialed the number. "I will get this out of him." I hit the volume on the phone a few times so they could hear and held it a short distance from my ear.
The line started to ring.
"Deena." I heard Trent's voice. He didn't sound happy. "I was just going to call you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Remember the last time we talked? I asked if you knew Tully Phillips well enough to convince her to talk to me? You told me no. Then guess what I hear tonight when I'm calling all around, trying to pull information from whoever I can. I hear your car was out in front of Tully's house. This afternoon. You were seen going into her house with her. And guess what time, Deena. Before I called you. When I was asking you for help with her, you were standing right in her house."
"Well, I—"
"Why'd you lie to me? Is that any way to treat me?"
Was this any way to treat the woman he loves? "I just . . . I couldn't tell you. She didn't want me to. She was so scared, she wouldn't talk to you."
"Just where does your loyalty sit? With her or me?"
Wait just a minute. "Where does yours sit? How come with me you're always the reporter first?"
"Because that's what I do."
Well, wasn't he just special. I glanced at Cherrie Mae. She shook her head.
Trent sighed. "Will you help me get to Tully tomorrow?"
He wanted to play games? Fine, I'd play too. "Absolutely." I shot Tully a dark look.
"Okay. Thanks. What did she tell you?"
"Nothin, really. She was just upset. The cops searched her house when she wasn't even home. She didn't know if they'd found anything. All she knew was that suddenly Mike was arrested."
"But you think you can get her to talk to me?"
"I'll try. Really. I'll remind her you're the one with the Pulitzer. She's better off in your hands than in some other reporter's."
Silence, as if Trent was trying to figure whether I was sincere or sarcastic.
"So, Deena. Is there anything else you know about this case that I should know?"
"I might. But you have to tell me one thing first."
"What's that?"
"Who told Chief Cotter they saw Stevie runnin home last Tuesday night at 12:30?"
"Why's it matter?"
"Because I just want to know."
"You must have a reason."
"Trent, who was it?"
"I do
n't know."
I made a face. "I think you do."
"Why is it so important?"
"Because the time's not right!"
Oh, great. Now I'd done it.
"Really. How do you know it's not right?"
I swallowed. "Stevie said it wasn't."
"You told me Stevie wouldn't tell you anything."
"Well I . . . he eventually did."
"When was this? I know you haven't been able to see him since your jail visit."
I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them Tully was surveying me, her mouth set to one side. I'd jumped on her for trying to excuse the behavior of her husband. Now look what I was takin.
No. I wasn't her. And I would not take this. "Trent, tell me."
"No."
"Do you know the answer?"
"Maybe."
My tone chilled. "Fine. Then I won't help you, either."
A long moment passed.
"You know a lot more than you're telling me, don't you, Deena?" Trent sounded so disappointed.
"Maybe I do."
Cherrie Mae fluttered her hands at me and mouthed get off the phone. My cheeks heated up. "Fact is, I've figured out a lot of things, Trent."
"Deena," Cherrie Mae whispered. "No."
"Like what?"
I clenched the phone.
"Deena!"
"What, Trent?"
"What have you figured out? You could really help me here."
Too bad. He'd get no reply out of me.
Tully circled the air with her finger—get off!
More silence. I could hear my heart beat.
"Okay, Deena." Trent sighed. "I get it. I see why you really called."
Okay, so I'd tried to use him. Hadn't he done the same with me? "Good for you."
I punched off the line and threw the cell on the couch. Stabbed Tully and Cherrie Mae with a look of defiance. "Well. Didn't that go smooth as butter."
Chapter 39
Cherrie Mae
We had to soldier on without the answer we wanted from Trent. Wasn't really Deena's fault. The man had a burr under his saddle before he even answered the phone.
First thing I had to do after that call was calm Deena and Tully down. They was all worked up, tired and overexcited, and takin everthing plain too personal.
Deena turned off her phone with a flourish, declarin she wasn't talkin to nobody else tonight. She tossed the cell on the coffee table, next to Tully's. Stuck both hands on her hips. "And guess what else. I am not marryin that man."
Tully opened her mouth, as if to agree it was a good choice. I gave her a look. Her lips closed.
We took a bathroom break, poured glasses a water, and settled down to work. I could feel tiredness creepin over me. On the couch, Tully was stiflin a yawn. Hard for a pregnant woman not to get her sleep.
"All right." I picked up the pen. "So we all agree first thing tomorrow mornin we head down to see Chief Cotter."
Tully nodded.
"I'll cancel my clients." Deena gave a grim chuckle. "Won't the Cotter men be so happy to see us. Especially me."
"Deena, you're gonna have to tell them Stevie came to your house Tuesday night—in bloody clothes." Tully spoke the words like Deena just might back out a the deal.
"I know. I will."
I buffed my forehead. "All right. So. Let's write down everthing we gon say, and how we gon help Chief Cotter prove it."
We worked, and the time passed. We went over every detail. What Mike did, everthing Stevie did, what Erika told Tully bout comin into big money, what Eva B. told me bout her husband leavin their house Tuesday night. And on and on. Midnight came, and we kept talkin. We made a detailed timeline a what we thought happened Tuesday night. Mayor B killin Erika, then goin home. To our best guess, he'd taken her ring, thinkin he'd plant it somewhere later. Mike leavin work and findin Erika dead. Goin back to the factory and puttin on Stevie's uniform. Stevie findin his uniform filled with blood, and reluctantly puttin it on.
"Wait." Tully frowned. "Why wouldn't Stevie just get a clean one?"
Deena and I looked at each other. She shrugged. "Maybe there weren't any."
Tully looked half convinced. We talked bout it some more, then moved on.
We wrote down quotes about the cleanin fluid mess from Carl Cypress and Letty June. I filled page after page in the notebook till my hands cramped. Finally sometime after 1:00 we was done.
And everthing—all the evidence we knew about—fit. The chief would have to listen. Cause half this stuff he'd already heard. We was just givin him the rest a the puzzle pieces.
I laid my head back against the chair, truly tired. I could barely think. "Anything else?"
Tully heaved a deep sigh. Her eyelids was droopin. "If there is, I can't think of it now."
Deena yawned. "Me either."
Our work was done. May the good Lord be with us tomorrow. And tomorrow would come all too soon.
"Time comes stealin on by night and day."
Deena checked that all the doors was locked. She pulled a sheet, blanket and pillow out a her hall closet and fixed em up for me on the couch. "Just to let you know." She pulled open the drawer on her side table. "I got a gun in here."
I peered down at the thing. "It loaded?"
"You bet. Got a second one by my bed, just like it."
Hmm. I preferred my billy club. But I'd left it at home.
At least I wasn't at home. Was Mayor B still in jail? If his wife got him out, would he be headin to my house tonight?
I fetched my suitcase and purse from the guestroom and waved Tully inside. "Go on to bed now. You need it."
Tully turned off her cell phone, lying on the coffee table. She and Deena both disappeared into their rooms. I shut down my own phone and put it back in my purse. Settled down on the couch. It was dark in the room, the pulled curtains keepin out any street light. My body plain sank into the cushions.
In minutes I was asleep . . .
Next thing I knew I'd jerked awake.
What was that noise?
My body went rigid. I lifted my head off the pillow, listenin. It was comin from the back doh. In the kitchen.
I heard the doh open. Close with a whisper.
Somebody stood on the other side a the wall. Breathin.
Chapter 40
Tully
I woke up lying on my right side, a pillow between my knees. How long had I been asleep? My body felt like lead, but my brain wouldn't turn off. Scenes of Mike in jail flashed. His hard, bare cot. The fear that must be eating at him. Once Chief Cotter starting looking into our evidence tomorrow, how long would the investigation take? A few days? Weeks? Months? My baby would be born by then. And in the end, would I be with Mike?
No way. I couldn't trust him anymore.
Then I'd divorce him and go back to live with my parents? I couldn't imagine that either. And I sure couldn't afford to keep our house by myself.
Would Chief Cotter even listen to us in the first place? Why should he? He was set. He had his suspects.
The whole town would look at me as a killer's wife. My son would be shut out. No friends, no invitations to birthday parties. We'd have to move away.
Tears flooded my eyes. I didn't want to go on. I just wanted to sleep for a very, very long time.
I shifted my legs, trying to get comfortable. It felt strange sleeping in my clothes. I longed for my own bed, in my own house. But Mike wasn't there. And even if he came back—the man I married had ceased to exist.
My bladder felt full. I shifted again, not wanting to get up. The bathroom was across the hall, and I didn't want to wake Deena or Cherrie Mae.
Sure, Tully, like you can fight this. In the last two months I'd ha
d to get up at least once a night.
With a sigh I tossed back the covers and pushed out of bed.
Chapter 41
Cherrie Mae
Footsteps skulked across Deena's kitchen, so quiet I barely heard em.
Mayor B.
Had he been to my house first and found it empty? On the way back, maybe he noticed my car sittin out front. Why hadn't we thought to put my car in the garage instead a Deena's?
The footsteps stopped.
What was he doin? I stopped breathin, listenin with all my might.
They started up again, headed toward the hall. Any minute now I'd see him.
Down the hall near the guest bathroom Deena had turned on a night-light. It glowed a pale green.
A dark form shuffled into view.
I lay on the couch, froze solid, my heart bangin out my chest. Would he see me in the dark?
He reached the dohway to the livin room. Stopped. His head turned my direction.
My pulse stopped. For the longest minute a my life I felt his eyes starin at me. Tryin to see through the blackness.
His breath whooshed. In, out. In, out.
Abruptly he swiveled left, goin down the hall. His right hand stuck out a ways from his body. Holdin somethin silhouetted against that green light.
Knife.
His fingers clenched the handle. I could see the short blade. A parin knife. Just like the ones he used on the others.
My nerves sizzled.
Tully. She was in the first bedroom. He'd think I was in there.
He'd stab her once. Hard and fast. Be out a here before I could turn on one a the cell phones nearby, make a call.
Deena's gun. I had to get it.
Holdin my breath, I eased off the couch to the carpet. The smallest sound, and he'd turn around. I'd never shot a gun before. If Mayor B came runnin at me, how fast could I get in that drawer, snatch out the gun and shoot?
Not fast enough.
I peered down the hall. He was walkin slower now. Maybe checkin out the two closed doors.
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