Gone to Ground (30 page)

"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 against 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."

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
po
lice 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
po
lice 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."

"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 don'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."