Gone to Ground (22 page)

"So I mailed a letter. That's not against the law."

"Tully." The chief planted his arms on the table. His chair creaked. "You sent us a swab with blood on it that you 'found,' saying it could be connected to Erika Hollinger. The minute we got that swab on Saturday I had one of our officers drive it to the private lab we used to test other evidence in this case. They processed it over the weekend. You want to know the results? Same blood type as Erika Hollinger. The rarest blood type there is, found in less than one percent of the population. That's quite a coincidence."

My veins went cold.

"With that swab, we got enough to arrest you right now."

What?
"You said I wasn't in trouble."

The chief cocked his head. "And you won't be.
If
you talk to us. All you have to do is explain how you came by that blood. And before you answer, remember the lab will be runnin it through a DNA test. If that test comes back with a match to Erika, you'll have no wiggle room at all."

Wasn't he such a clever man. I wanted to knock his face off.

"One more thing. I've already got an officer runnin down a judge for a search warrant of your home. Anything interesting we might find when we get there? You might want to tell us now."

Pictures of policemen trashing my house flashed through my mind. Going through my drawers, finding the other swab. What about Michael's dresser? Was
he
hiding anything?

"Now." No gentleness in the chief's voice anymore. "You ready to start over?"

I shook my head. "You've already arrested Stevie Ruckland for Erika's murder."

"Actually, we have a theory about that." The chief raised his forefinger. "Stevie and Mike work the same factory shift. Get off at the same time. Somehow they both got a rare type of blood on them Tuesday night—blood that's apparently Erika's. They must have conspired in the murder."

"No way. They don't even like each other."

"We know Mike and Erika dated at one time. Now we learn from you they were havin an affair."

"I never said that."

"And apparently she was pregnant with his baby. I got this right so far?" The chief's eyes cut holes in me. "Erika wanted Mike for herself. She tells you she's pregnant, that she's takin Mike away from you. You confront your husband. He goes into a rage—and kills her."

My mouth opened. How could he guess so
right
?

"But he doesn't want to get caught," the chief continued. "Mike's too smart for that. So he gets Stevie Ruckland involved. Stevie'd be an easy target."

"That's not true!" No way would Mike trust Stevie Ruckland.

So why did they both have Erika's blood on their clothes?

Maybe it wasn't her blood at all.

"Tully." John Cotter rapped his knuckles against the table. "We need you to tell us what happened Tuesday night. Then you can go home."

Sweat trickled down my shirt. I looked from John to the chief, searching for a way to get out of this. They stared at me, their faces grim. They'd trapped me for sure. Chief Cotter had me before he even sent Ted Arnoldson to pick me up.

My gaze dropped. Don't tell—and I get arrested. Do tell—what then?

"I
can't
go home now." The words choked.

"You afraid of Mike?" Chief Cotter's voice softened.

I focused on a grain swirl in the table, light oval with dark in the middle. Almost looked like a winking eye.

"Mrs. Phillips?"

I rubbed the swirl.

Everybody in town was going to judge me. I didn't just marry the wrong man. I married a
murderer
.

"Tully, please. Talk to us."

"Tuesday night he was almost an hour late coming home from work." The sentence slipped out—so easy. And here I still sat. And the world still turned.

Chief Cotter grunted. "What'd he say when he got home?"

"Nothing. I pretended to be asleep."

How long did it take to tell the story that had changed my life? Time went on hold, my finger rubbing that grainy place on the table. I admitted everything, while the cops sat like stones and the tape recorder ran. I started with going to Erika's house, then Mike's threat to kill her. How he acted when he came home late, and our fight. Finding the blood, making the swabs. Mailing one off.

"Why didn't you send them both?" John Cotter asked.

I looked him in the eye. "In case you messed the first one up. Or ignored it."

He glanced at his father. The chief just smiled. Then turned serious again. "Mike been abusin you before this, Ms. Phillips?"

My gaze drifted toward the wall. I nodded.

"Why didn't you report him?"

Like it was that simple. "Where would I go?"

They chewed on that for a minute.

John Cotter sniffed. "You have any idea where that picture you saw of Erika and Mike went? We didn't find it when we searched her house."

I stilled. Why hadn't I thought about them finding that picture? "No."

Chief Cotter was silent—and I knew what he was thinking. Mike had looked for the picture in Erika's house that night. And destroyed it.

"We did find the digital on her camera yesterday." The chief watched my face. "It's taken us awhile to process everything from her house. Apparently Mike forgot about the camera."

This was really happening. My husband had really been there that night, no way to deny it. Dread curled in my stomach.

"Anything else to tell us, Tully?"

"No."

No way would I tell them about Deena and Cherrie Mae. But Cherrie Mae needed to get her own pictures down here fast. If they were even important anymore.

"Where's my daughter?" My mother's voice cut through the door. "What are you doing with her?"

I jerked up.

"Where's Tully?
Why
is she here?"

Footsteps sounded. I heard Ted Arnoldson answer but couldn't make out the words.

"No, you can't—Tully, honey!" The door pounded. "You don't have to talk to them! Come out of there!"

Chief Cotter shoved back his chair and yanked open the door. "Mrs. Starke, calm down. Your daughter's fine."

"Why do you think she has anything to do with the murders? Is it Mike, did he hurt her?"

"Did he hurt her?"
Why would she ask that?

My mother pushed into the room, cheeks flushed, and her usually perfect hair a mess. Her dark eyes landed on me. "Are you all right?"

"She's fine." Chief Cotter stepped in front of my mom. "Now you need to let us finish, then you can talk to her."

"But I—"

"Judy, stop it." Chief Cotter pointed at her. "This is police business."

Tears filled my eyes. My mom had come. She really cared. Suddenly I realized how much I'd needed her the past few days. The past year. I wanted to throw myself in her arms. "I'm okay, Mom. Really."

Her eyes glassed up. "I'll wait for you. I'll be right out here."

I nodded.

Chief Cotter closed the door and returned to his seat. He gave me a soft look, like a parent to a child. "When we're done here, Tully, you need to go home with your mother. You'll do that, won't you?"

Tears fell down my face. I didn't
know
what to do.

"You can't go back to your own house. I don't want you alone with Mike, even for a minute."

"What's going to happen to him?"

"We'll bring him in for questioning. And we'll search your home. You don't want to be there while that's goin on."

I nodded.

The chief shifted in his chair. "Is there anything we're gonna find in our search that you want to tell us about?"

"I told you about the other swab."

"Any unregistered guns in the house?"

I shrugged. "The one Mike has is registered."

Why was he asking this? "Are you saying you won't arrest Mike unless you find something else?"

"I'm not sayin that at all."

"Then why do you want to know?"

"Tully, leave it be. We'll take care of this."

Sure, like they had for the last three years. I shivered. After this, they
had
to put Mike in jail. If they didn't, no use staying with my parents. He'd come after me, no matter where I hid.

Someone knocked on the door. Chief Cotter got up and opened it. Officer Chris Dedmon stood in the hall. They spoke quietly. I heard Dedmon say "search warrant."

The chief nodded. "Thanks."

Dedmon disappeared. The chief stayed in the doorway. "Mrs. Phillips, thanks for your time."

"Did he say he got the search warrant?"

"Yeah. We'll be out there soon."

Michael would hate me forever. Our life together was over. My head hung. I stared at my huge belly, carrying our son.
My
son. Michael would most likely be in jail when he was born.

"Come on, Tully, I'll help you up." John Cotter stepped to my side. "Your mother's waitin for you."

I lifted my chin. "Don't take my cell phone or computer. You hear? The phone and computer are
mine
. Michael never uses them. He doesn't even know how to turn that computer on."

"I can't promise you—"

"You
do
promise! They've got nothin to do with the murder. They're
mine
. If you don't promise me, I'll make my mother take me back home right now."

I pasted a defiant look on my face, my heart quavering. Truth was, I'd hide in the locked car while my mom went in the house and got my stuff. She'd do that for me. She'd take on Michael and not bat an eye.

Officer Cotter exchanged a look with his dad. I glared from one man to the other.

The chief shrugged. "Don't worry about that, Tully."

Right.

In the lobby Mom rushed over and clung to me. I hugged her hard, wishing I could scream. I couldn't make a sound.

"It's okay, it's okay." She smoothed my hair.

"She needs to go home with you, Mrs. Starke," the chief said.

"That's just where I'm taking her."

Hadn't we come full circle. Mom again in charge of me. For once I was glad.

Without a word I let myself be led outside to Mom's car. Not until we were driving away did I tell her. "We have to make a stop at my house."

Thank heaven my salon was closed on Mondays.

I slumped on my couch, starin at the coffee table. No energy to move. I didn't want to leave my house, couldn't bear to see anyone. My brother had just been arraigned for Erika Hollinger's murder. Soon Chief Cotter would find a way to pin the other five killings on Stevie. How was I supposed to live with that? Go back to work tomorrow and cut folks' hair like everything was just the same? If anyone would even set foot in my shop now.

What if I lost all my clients? How would I pay my bills? I'd lose my home, my car. I'd already lost my brother.

I leaned over, hands diggin into my temples. This was a nightmare.

My cell phone rang in the kitchen. I pushed off the sofa and hurried in to answer it. The ID read
Tully Phillips.

I clicked on the line. "Tully, how are you?"

"They just arrested Mike for Erika's murder." Her voice sounded dead. "They think he made Stevie help him."

"What?"

Her story spilled out. My mouth hung open as I listened.

"I'm at my parents' house now," she said. "I wanted to call you soon as I got here, but my mom took forever going back to work. She didn't want to leave me alone. First I had to tell her about the blood and the swabs. I didn't say a word about you and Cherrie Mae, or she'd have wanted to know all that too."

My brain whirled. Maybe Mike
had
made Stevie help him . . .

"Half hour after we got here Chief Cotter called." Tully's voice caught. "They went to my house with a search warrant and to pick up Mike for questioning. They were hoping he'd confess. But Mike asked for a lawyer and wouldn't talk. The chief wanted me to know he'd been taken to jail. He's there at least until his hearing a few days from now."

I sank into a kitchen chair. That jail wasn't very big. They'd better keep Mike away from my brother. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know."

I stared out the window to my backyard. If Mike did this he'd have threatened to kill Stevie if my brother talked. No wonder Stevie had clammed up. Rage kicked up my spine. I hoped Mike
fried.

Tully started to cry. "They found that picture of Mike and Erika on her camera. But not the printed one. Mike must have looked for it that night and got rid of it."

We'd never thought about that camera. What
else
had we missed? "When did they find it?"

"Yesterday. So they probably would have brought Mike in for questioning anyway, even if I hadn't sent the swab."

Poor Tully, second-guessing herself. "You did the right thing. You gave them the evidence they needed."

Easy for me to say. I hadn't turned in evidence on my brother.

Tully shook a shaky breath. "Where's Cherrie Mae?"

"Probably workin. I haven't heard from her."

"So you don't know if she got the pictures?"

"No."

"We have to call her. Can you do it? I remembered your number from making hair appointments, but I don't have hers with me. All I got out of my house is my purse, cell phone, and computer. I don't even have my
car
. And now the police are
trashing
the place!"