Gone to Ground (16 page)

"Tully?" I tried to say the words calm and quiet. "Mike been hittin you before this?"

Tully focused on the floor, her mouth workin. Deena and I exchanged a look. Finally Tully gave a tiny nod.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry."

Deena lightly touched Tully's arm. "Me too." She sounded sad but not surprised. Cain't say I was all that surprised either, knowin Mike's hard reputation.

We sat in silence. I couldn't help thinkin a the baby to come, and what Tully was gon do.

She sighed and edged up her chin. "There's more."

Deena and I waited.

Then come the story a what Tully done. The cotton swab and mailin it to the Amaryllis
po
lice. By the time she was through my mouth hung open along with Deena's. This was one amazin girl.

Deena scratched her head. "I wonder what the chief will do when he gets that package."

Tully's face blanched. "You don't think he'll have it tested?"

"Why should he? He's got his man. He could conveniently 'lose' the swab."

"You think he'd do that?" My eyebrows rose. "Ignore evidence? I thought more than anything he wants to solve this case."

Deena scoffed. "More than anything he wants to regain his reputation. After three years he's finally made an arrest. How would it look now to admit he went after the wrong man? Another failure. Don't forget, this is Mr. Know-it-all. Mr. I-was-with-the-MBI-for-twenty-five-years."

She had a point there.

Tully shook her head. "He won't ignore it. I won't let him. I
have
to know."

"What do you plan to do if he does? You can't come forward and remain anonymous."

"She got that second swab," I put in.

"That's right." Tully firmed her mouth. "And you know what I'll do? I'll call Trent Williams anonymously. I'll tell him what I've done and that the police are ignoring it."

Wouldn't the chief love that.

"If Adam Cotter tests that swab, it'll be for only one reason." Deena looked from Tully to me. "He thinks it'll point to Stevie."

I rested my head against the chair. My mind was all kinked up. "What I cain't figure is how could all three a our stories be true?"

"I hope
you're
right, Cherrie Mae." Tully laced her fingers like she was prayin. "I can't believe Mayor B would do this, but at least he's not related to any of us."

"But that ring seems the least of the evidence," Deena said. "Tully and me, we both saw blood. We both saw men that weren't actin right."

I rubbed my lip. "Could they have worked together? Maybe Mike used Stevie to do somethin? They both get off work from the factory at the same time."

"No way, Stevie hates Mike." Deena winced at Tully. "Sorry."

"But would Mike
make
Stevie do somethin?"

"No." Tully shook her head. "Mike isn't like that. If he needs something done, he'll do it himself. He'd think it insulting to use someone else. And he'd never trust Stevie to keep quiet about it anyway."

"So . . ." Deena screwed up her face. "Mike changed uniforms after work, thinkin in case he got blood on himself, he didn't want you seein it. Then after the murder he planned to change back and ditch the new uniform somewhere. He could have grabbed a clean uniform out of the storage closet. Maybe Stevie left the closet open while he was cleanin. He has the key. Then maybe Mike ran out of time and couldn't change to his old uniform."

Tully drew back. "What about the blood all over your brother?" Her voice rose. "That's a whole lot more than I found on my door."

"Maybe it's not even human blood."

"Well, what did he do then? Kill a pig on his way home?"

"At least
Stevie
didn't threaten to kill Erika the day before she died!"

"And Mike didn't take a bath in Turtle Creek!"

"Whoa, whoa." I smacked my palms on my legs. "Stop it right now. We don't stick together, who's gon get to the bottom a this?"

They glared at each other. Tully's breaths came in little pants, and Deena's cheeks flamed.

Deena turned away from Tully and folded her arms. "I don't want my brother goin to jail for somethin if he didn't do it. I just want the truth, pure and simple."

Didn't we all. '"The truth is rarely pure and never simple.'"

I pushed to my feet. "We need to write stuff down. Figure out what we know and what we ain't sure of." I gave em both a hard look. "And I know it won't be easy, but you both got to step back and look at this objectively. We let emotions take over, we'll never get nowhere."

I headed into the kitchen, where I fetched a pad a paper. I sure wasn't bout to mess up my notebook full a classic quotes, on the table beside me. I brought the pad back and sat down again. Picked up the pen on top a my literature notebook.

On the first piece a paper I drew two lines, dividin it into thirds. At the top a the columns I wrote the three suspects' names. "Okay now. First we list the evidence we have about each man."

We went over the stories again, me writin down the details. Includin the timeline. We knew Mike and Stevie was out a their houses after 11:00 p.m. Stevie didn't show up at Deena's until midnight—so where had he been since gettin off work at 11:00? Mike came home at 11:50. Where had
he
been? As for the mayor, he had to have left his house sometime that night, 'cause he'd ended up with Erika's ring. But we didn't know what time.

Deena squeezed her eyes shut. "Erika could have been killed between 11:00 and 12:00." She looked at me. "You said you saw her eat a brownie around 10:00 when you left."

No wonder Trent wanted to know that. "True. But I left those brownies with her. She coulda eaten some later. Although she did tell me she was headed for bed."

Wait a minute. "Deena, did Trent say the coroner found Erika was pregnant?"

Deena's eyes rounded. "No. Not a word." She turned to Tully. "Maybe she wasn't."

Hope flicked across Tully's face, then was gone. "But I saw the picture of Mike and her . . ."

"The coroner didn't necessarily tell Trent everything." Deena shook her head. "This might be one of those we're-goin-to-keep-this-quiet details."

I thought that over. "Could you get Trent to press the coroner for more information? Maybe let on he knows bout a pregnancy—see what the coroner says?"

"But then I tip my own hand." Deena sighed. "The thing with Trent is—he's a good friend, but he's also an ambitious reporter. He'd be all over me like white on rice if he thought I knew somethin he didn't."

We fell silent.

Deena ran a finger along her jaw. "Tully, why would Erika be comin into some big money?"

"I don't know. Maybe life insurance for her husband's death?"

"Maybe." I thought bout my own Ben's life insurance. "But that shoulda come before now." On the paper I put a circled question mark near my notes bout the money.

Tully shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. I peered at her ankles. They was swellin. "We need to get you home where you can get those feet up."

She nodded.

Some home. A house where she lived with a man she thought had murdered six women. A shudder rattled my backbone.

"So what do we do now?" Deena shoved off the couch and started pacin again. "I can hardly sit still, thinkin about Stevie in jail."

I rubbed my finger across the paper. "You need to go see him. Visitin hours for men is Sunday, two to four."

"How do you know that?"

"I visited a few young men there in my day. Somebody needed to cheer em up, try to set em straight."

Deena scratched to a halt. "I can try again to get him to talk to me. Maybe now he'll be scared enough to do it."

"That's what I'm hopin. Won't be easy, though. The visitin place there—you got people settin right next to you. Easy to overhear. And he'll probly see an attorney by then who'll tell him not to say a word to nobody."

Deena sighed. "Sunday seems so far away. He'll have to spend all Saturday there."

He'd be spendin a lot longer than that till this got straightened out, but I didn't say so. "As for me, I'm gon take some pictures at Mayor B's house when I clean Monday. I got to get proof a that ring in his office. Just hope it's still there."

Deena paced around. "What then?"

"Tell you the truth, I don't know. I just know I cain't do nothin or say nothin till I got some proof."

"And me?" Tully looked so tired and scared.

"Way I see it, they's nothin you can do but wait." And that would be mighty hard. "See if the
po
lice put that green or red construction paper in their window."

"Cherrie Mae's right," Deena said.

"But Tully"—I knew she wasn't gon like this—"how bout if you stay with your parents for awhile? You're not safe in your own home."

"I can't. They didn't want me to marry Michael. I'd be telling my parents they were right."

Deena made a face. "Looks like they were."

Tully threw Deena a dark look, then turned back to me. "And they'd want to know what happened. What would I tell them?"

Deena huffed. "That you need your own space away from Mike, that's all."

"It's not that simple."

"Of course it is."

"Wait now." I held up a palm.

"You want not simple?" Deena jammed her hands on her hips. "How about livin with a man you think is a murderer? A man who hits you and has now threatened to kill you. Why would you stay with that?"

Tully's face reddened. "I don't see you turning your back on your brother."

"I don't
live
with him."

"Hush yourselves now!" I stood up, all five feet a me ramrod straight, and gave em both the eye. "Deena, you got to watch what you say. And Tully." My voice went softer. She was such a young thing. "You need to listen. Because you sure ain't safe in your home. You got to think bout that baby."

Her face screwed up, and she started to cry. "I'm scared to leave him. He'll come after me."

"He cain't hurt you in your parents' house. He do somethin in front a them, they'll see him for what he is."

Probly already did. It weren't no secret Judy Starke couldn't stand her daughter bein married to Mike Phillips.

Deena plopped back down next to Tully and laid a hand on her arm. "Come on now, it'll be okay."

Tully sniffed. "You don't know what it's like at home. You just don't know."

Deena and I exchanged a glance. I thought a my Ben and couldn't imagine.

All the more reason for us to band together and
do
somethin bout this.

"Listen now." I put on my best confident air, even though I didn't feel it. "We got to stay in this together. We're a team now, and that means makin a solemn pact. We got to keep in touch, help each other figure out our next moves—and most of all, don't talk to nobody else. We each got a piece a the puzzle. We put em all together, we'll see the whole picture. Thing is, one a us may not like what that picture shows. But we got to go where the evidence leads." I looked Deena in the eye, then Tully. "You willin to do that?"

"Yes." Deena sounded decisive.

Tully nodded. "Me too."

The poor girl still looked like a scared mouse, but I could see a faint hope dawnin.

"All right then. I'm in too." I lowered myself back in my chair. "First thing, let's get each others' home and cell phone numbers. We're gon have to keep in touch."

"I just have a cell, no land line," Deena said.

I wrote down the numbers, one list for each a us. "Here you go."

Mercy, my bones was tired. "I think we all agree we cain't go to the
po
lice yet. We first got to see what they do with Tully's swab. Plus I need those pictures I'll get Monday. You both agree?"

"Absolutely." Deena wagged her head. "I don't trust the chief or John as far as I could throw em. And the chief's too fat to throw very far."

That got a tiny smile out a Tully. "Fine with me."

Deena's leg bounced. "Even with those pictures, Cherrie Mae, you're goin to have a hard time convincin Chief Cotter to suspect the mayor. That evidence just might disappear too."

"But I'll have the pictures on my camera."

"Sure. And we can use Trent, if it turns out to be Mayor B. If the media comes down on the Amaryllis police, they won't have such an easy time keepin their secrets. The town will demand to know."

Yes, but . . . "That would mean we'd have to go public. Think bout that. We'd be paintin one big target on our backs for the killer. And in the meantime if the
po
lice don't listen . . ."

The reality sank in. We stared at each other.

What had I got myself into?

I pushed to my feet and held out my arms. They was shaky. "I think we better do a little more talkin to God."

Deena stood and helped Tully up. The three a us formed a tight circle, holdin hands, and prayed the good Lord to watch over us.

SATURDAY—SUNDAY

APRIL 23–24, 2011

How do you wait for normal life to start up again?

Since leavin Cherrie Mae's house Friday night I felt like my feet never quite hit the ground. I just floated, my mind in a haze. All the things Cherrie Mae, Tully, and I discussed swelled and receded in my brain. The more I thought of the different scenarios, the less I knew what was true. I only knew that wherever I went, people crossed the street to avoid me. Saturday I drifted through my appointments—that is, the few people who showed up. Half of them cancelled for some cockamamie reason. How weird to talk to them on the phone—people I'd known all my life. The conversations were so strained. A week ago, I wouldn't have put up with it. Would have demanded, "Okay, tell me why you're
really
not comin." Now . . .