headlights, then kept on goin’. This was about fifteen minutes before you found Clara.”
This couldn’t be. Around 9:20 Billy was heading straight for the place where Clara was killed? I pictured the look on Cheryl King’s face as she’d insisted her son hadn’t left the house. Had she been in her bedroom, watching TV? Maybe she couldn’t really be sure …
“Don’t look too good for Billy, does it,” Pete said.
“No.” Scenes from my own interrogation years ago flashed through my head. How much harder to prove your innocence when you were at the place of the crime. At this point I could only hope Billy told Chief Melcher everything. Why he was on Brewer that night. Where he’d come from and where he was going.
“Thing is, Del-Belle, fifteen minutes ahead of you puts Billy at the right place at the right time.”
My stomach felt sick. “I know.”
“Still don’t believe he did it. I’m just sayin’ it’s real bad timin’. And Chief Melcher’s gunnin’ for a suspect.”
As were Clara’s parents, no doubt. All too well I remembered the consuming fire of needing to know who’d killed my mother. “I need to convince the Crenshaws it wasn’t Billy. If they really think that, they’ll put all the more pressure on Melcher.”
“Might be a hard thing to do, in the midst of tryin’ to comfort ’em. You could come across as tryin’ to defend their enemy.”
Pete was right. The only thing a grieving family had left was to pursue justice for the one they’d lost.
“Besides which, you’ll dig yourself in deeper with Melcher.”
If Pete only knew how much that terrified me. “Well, let me see how it goes. I do need to visit them.”
“Okay, see you back at the house.”
“You’re not there now?”
“Heavens no, girl. I’ve hit the streets. I got to find out who woulda wanted Clara dead.”
I managed a smile. “Be careful.”
“You too.”
After ending the call, I sat a moment longer, trying to collect my thoughts. And praying for guidance.
As if God had any reason to grant anything I requested.
Heavy-hearted, I pulled back into the street and headed for the Crenshaws. They lived on the outskirts of town in a two-story brick house. Dora had been a seamstress all her life, using a large back room in the house as her working area. Lately she’d been busy making Clara’s wedding dress and all the bridesmaids’ dresses. One of them was for me.
Pain stuck a knife in me and turned it.
It hit me then—half of Clara’s wedding gifts were still at the church. They’d need to be cleaned out. And taken … where?
Numerous cars lined the curb in front of Dora’s and Dave’s house. I recognized Clara’s fiancé’s blue Honda. Jerald had mostly likely been with the Crenshaws all day. In front of his car sat a beige Ford SUV. His parents’.
I walked up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door. Jerald’s mother answered.
“Hi, Delanie.” Marie’s face was drawn. “Please come in, I know they’ll want to see you.”
I stepped inside the hardwood foyer. The smell of baked chicken and rolls filled the air. Too late I realized I should have brought something. What was I thinking?
“I’m so sorry to be empty-handed. I just haven’t …”
“Don’t worry about it. They’ve got more than they can handle already.” Marie headed toward the combination kitchen and family room at the back of the house. She gestured for me to follow.
I stepped into the room, feeling the heaviness in the air. Dave sat on a couch near Jerald. Jerald’s father, Hank, sat opposite them in a gray armchair. Dora was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, talking quietly with Jerald’s older sister, Paula. Dora’s sister, Gretchen, was also there, as well as their mother, Evy May. All of these women had been at the shower the previous evening. From joy to despair in less than twenty-four hours.
This had to be a dream. Maybe even now I would wake up …
The men rose to greet me. I
This couldn’t be. Around 9:20 Billy was heading straight for the place where Clara was killed? I pictured the look on Cheryl King’s face as she’d insisted her son hadn’t left the house. Had she been in her bedroom, watching TV? Maybe she couldn’t really be sure …
“Don’t look too good for Billy, does it,” Pete said.
“No.” Scenes from my own interrogation years ago flashed through my head. How much harder to prove your innocence when you were at the place of the crime. At this point I could only hope Billy told Chief Melcher everything. Why he was on Brewer that night. Where he’d come from and where he was going.
“Thing is, Del-Belle, fifteen minutes ahead of you puts Billy at the right place at the right time.”
My stomach felt sick. “I know.”
“Still don’t believe he did it. I’m just sayin’ it’s real bad timin’. And Chief Melcher’s gunnin’ for a suspect.”
As were Clara’s parents, no doubt. All too well I remembered the consuming fire of needing to know who’d killed my mother. “I need to convince the Crenshaws it wasn’t Billy. If they really think that, they’ll put all the more pressure on Melcher.”
“Might be a hard thing to do, in the midst of tryin’ to comfort ’em. You could come across as tryin’ to defend their enemy.”
Pete was right. The only thing a grieving family had left was to pursue justice for the one they’d lost.
“Besides which, you’ll dig yourself in deeper with Melcher.”
If Pete only knew how much that terrified me. “Well, let me see how it goes. I do need to visit them.”
“Okay, see you back at the house.”
“You’re not there now?”
“Heavens no, girl. I’ve hit the streets. I got to find out who woulda wanted Clara dead.”
I managed a smile. “Be careful.”
“You too.”
After ending the call, I sat a moment longer, trying to collect my thoughts. And praying for guidance.
As if God had any reason to grant anything I requested.
Heavy-hearted, I pulled back into the street and headed for the Crenshaws. They lived on the outskirts of town in a two-story brick house. Dora had been a seamstress all her life, using a large back room in the house as her working area. Lately she’d been busy making Clara’s wedding dress and all the bridesmaids’ dresses. One of them was for me.
Pain stuck a knife in me and turned it.
It hit me then—half of Clara’s wedding gifts were still at the church. They’d need to be cleaned out. And taken … where?
Numerous cars lined the curb in front of Dora’s and Dave’s house. I recognized Clara’s fiancé’s blue Honda. Jerald had mostly likely been with the Crenshaws all day. In front of his car sat a beige Ford SUV. His parents’.
I walked up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door. Jerald’s mother answered.
“Hi, Delanie.” Marie’s face was drawn. “Please come in, I know they’ll want to see you.”
I stepped inside the hardwood foyer. The smell of baked chicken and rolls filled the air. Too late I realized I should have brought something. What was I thinking?
“I’m so sorry to be empty-handed. I just haven’t …”
“Don’t worry about it. They’ve got more than they can handle already.” Marie headed toward the combination kitchen and family room at the back of the house. She gestured for me to follow.
I stepped into the room, feeling the heaviness in the air. Dave sat on a couch near Jerald. Jerald’s father, Hank, sat opposite them in a gray armchair. Dora was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, talking quietly with Jerald’s older sister, Paula. Dora’s sister, Gretchen, was also there, as well as their mother, Evy May. All of these women had been at the shower the previous evening. From joy to despair in less than twenty-four hours.
This had to be a dream. Maybe even now I would wake up …
The men rose to greet me. I
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