Chapter 40
Emily was summoned to City Hall. Ray wanted her to come in and answer a few questions.
Keith was dead.
She couldn’t believe it. God, Violet and the kids would be devastated.
Emily hadn’t left her room since returning from Clint’s place the day before.
Part of her kept hoping her parents would call and invite her home.
Maybe she should have taken the first step, but she hadn’t.
She’d tinkered with her lists some more, finally had them in shape to turn over to Ray.
Outside that, she’d spent a good deal of time trying to banish the confusing episode in the barn.
She couldn’t say she regretted what she’d done.
But she felt uncertain about herself. About everything.
The chief’s secretary wasn’t at her desk, so Emily went straight to his door and knocked.
“Come on in!”
Emily steeled herself and opened the door.
Ray pushed to his feet and offered his hand across his desk. “Thank you for coming, Emily.”
She walked straight over, shook his hand, and wilted into the chair he indicated. “I can hardly believe it. I’m sure Violet is inconsolable.”
Ray nodded and resumed his seat. “She’s pretty torn up.”
“And his father.” Keith had been an only child. Granville Turner had doted on him nonstop. The poor man would be grief stricken.
“You can imagine,” Ray offered.
She could.
“That’s why I called you here, Emily,” he explained. “We want to be as thorough as possible.”
“Of course. Anything I can do.”
“You’ve spoken with Violet recently. Did you pick up on any trouble between them?”
What was he saying? “Surely you don’t consider Violet a suspect?”
“We have to consider the spouse as well as anyone close to the victim.”
Emily exhaled a weary breath. “I’m sorry. Of course you do. But, in answer to your question, I haven’t been that close to anyone since Heather’s murder. So I’m not really the best person to ask.”
“You’re not aware of any encounters between Clint and Keith? I know you’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on Clint.”
Now she understood what this was about. “Is Clint a suspect?” Dumb question. Sure he was.
“Like I said, right now most anyone who knew Keith is a suspect.” Ray leaned back in his chair.
He didn’t mention Heather’s murder. Or Emily’s father’s visit.
“Do you have any reason to believe that Clint held Troy or Keith responsible for the fire?”
“No.”
Ray stared at something on his desk for a long moment. Was there something more he couldn’t tell her? Something that implicated Clint?
“Where were you between ten and eleven yesterday morning?”
“Is that when you think he died?”
“It’s an estimate. We’ll know more after the autopsy.”
Evidently Clint hadn’t told Ray he’d been with her. “Did you question Clint?” She was sure he had.
Ray hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
“Then you should know where I was.”
The confusion on his face confirmed her deduction. “I was with Clint.”
Ray’s expression turned wary. “He didn’t mention it.”
“If the estimated time is right, Austin does have an alibi.”
“He claims he was home, alone.”
“He was home,” Emily agreed, “but he wasn’t alone. I was with him.”
All reaction had been banished from Ray’s face now. “Why would he withhold that information? Having confirmation of his alibi would be very important for Clint.”
Emily moistened her lips, tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. “Maybe to protect me. I don’t know.” She looked directly into Ray’s eyes. “I have no reason to lie for him.” She would prefer Ray didn’t ask for details. Memories, too vivid to ignore, kept filtering through her mind.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with what your father told me yesterday, does it?” Ray eyed her closely. “If you’re feeling guilty because of the information your father withheld, you shouldn’t.”
He did think she was lying! How could he believe that? Of course she should feel guilty. So should he! She reached for her purse. Whether it served any purpose or not, she wanted him to see what she’d come up with.
“There are things about Heather’s murder that—”
“That investigation is over.” He cut her off. “Closed.”
“Wait.” She looked up, surprised at his sharp tone. “If he’s innocent—”
“We don’t know that,” Ray interjected. “What we know,” he said more calmly, “is that the evidence did not rise to the necessary level for conviction so it was overturned.”
He was the one who’d stood by Clint when he was released. Why the about-face?
“What we all need to do is put this behind us,” Ray explained patiently. “The past is over. We can’t change it.” He paused. “It’s time to look to the future, Emily, not the past. We’ve all done too much of that already.”
This made no sense. The law was his job. “And what about the real killer? If Austin is innocent, that means the person who murdered Heather got away with murder.”
“Emily, there was no evidence other than what was used to convict Clint that first time,” he said quietly but firmly.
“Not a single trace. There’s nothing I can do.
” He stood, letting her know the conversation was over.
“I appreciate you coming in. We may need to call on you again when we have a more exact time of death.”
She rose, confusion making her slow to react. “Sure.” What had just happened here? She made her way out of his office and across the lobby without pausing. When had Ray stopped being Clint’s ally?
As the top representative of the law in this town, Ray should have jumped on the information her father had passed along. Why wasn’t Ray calling Sid Fairgate in for confirmation?
She reached the door and she had to look back. She was almost surprised when she didn’t find Ray watching her go. He’d been so anxious to be rid of her.
Maybe he was preoccupied with this newest tragedy.
But that didn’t explain his insistence that looking into Heather’s murder was pointless.
She could see him suggesting that they do so later, when Keith’s death was resolved.
But Ray had said there was no evidence that pointed to anyone other than Clint.
In other words, why bother looking? The case was closed. End of story.
This was wrong.
Ray was ignoring the facts. She hesitated. Or maybe he was hiding a secret of his own. Or flat out lying. Every damned body else sure seemed to be.