Chapter 52 #2
“I was wrong,” Emily admitted, her chin high, her shoulders square, in spite of the trembling his reminder set in motion.
“And for your information, since you didn’t bother showing up at the trial, I said he was in the room.
I said he had blood on him. I couldn’t say for sure he killed her, though I wanted to at the time.
His attorney pointed that out repeatedly. ”
“I’ve got nothing to say,” Marvin snapped, unconvinced or uncaring, maybe both.
“If you’d prefer,” Clint suggested, “we could just take the information we’ve gathered so far to the police. After hearing it, I’m pretty sure they’ll want to talk to you.”
Clint was exaggerating with that, but hey, if it worked. Marvin’s face turned fire-engine red. “We’ll talk right here.” He stepped out onto the deck and closed the door. “I don’t want Jean hearing any of this.” He gave equal time with his glare, first to Clint, then to Emily.
Clint kicked off the conversation with, “The police never bothered to question you when Heather Baker was murdered.”
“I wasn’t her boyfriend at the time,” Marvin snarled before taking a slug of his beer.
Emily wondered how she could ever have thought Marvin was cute or nice. “You dated,” she reminded him, her voice sounding small after the men’s deep, angry snarls.
Marvin looked at her as if he could rip off her head and spit down her throat. “A couple of times. She just used me, but then you were her best friend, so you knew that. Probably laughed about it.” He folded his arms over his belly in a show of defiance.
“She did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like you, Marv. Heather was young. We all were. We did stupid stuff.” Talking about those days made Emily’s stomach even queasier. She wished there were another way. “But nothing she did should have cost her life.”
Emily’s last words seemed to take the wind out of Marvin’s sails. “What do you want? Last time we talked you were accusing Keith of killing her.”
“Keith is dead,” she reminded Marvin.
The regret in Marvin’s eyes told her she hadn’t needed to remind him. “And so’s Ray,” he muttered before turning up his beer can once more. “Makes you wonder who the hell’s next.” He didn’t look at either of them as he said this.
Clint ignored his comment and took the lead again. “Was Turner cheating on Heather at the time of her murder? And why didn’t the police bother to question either of you?”
Emily frowned. “The police didn’t question Keith?” But that was absurd. Even though she couldn’t believe he was involved in Heather’s murder, logic dictated that the boyfriend would be questioned.
Clint’s attention shifted briefly to Emily. “They had me. Why question anybody else?”
“Wait a minute,” Marvin piped up. “You’re wrong; they did question us. Anybody who knew Heather got questioned.”
“And what was your alibi?” Clint pressed.
Marvin shrugged. “I was home all night.”
“Who vouched for you?”
Worry etched across his face. “Nobody. I told Chief Ledbetter where I was and that was the end of it.”
“Then you weren’t really questioned,” Clint argued. “They took your word and left it at that. The parading of Heather’s classmates through City Hall was for show.”
Jesus. Maybe he was right. Emily vaguely recalled some of the other students saying that all they’d had to do was say what they were doing that night. No pressure. No discomfort. A mock investigation. The police hadn’t been looking for a killer; they already had Clint pegged. Just like he said.
“So where were you that night?” Clint asked, pursuing the more sensitive issue.
Marvin’s guard went up. “I told you, I was home.”
Clint eased closer to him. “Maybe you and Turner had it out, then decided to make her pay for using the both of you, or maybe you didn’t want anyone else to have her if you couldn’t.”
Marvin’s jowls quivered with the force of his head moving from side to side in denial. “I wasn’t that hung up on her. I swear. I was pissed, yeah, but I got over it. I wouldn’t have hurt Heather. No way.”
“What about Violet? How did she feel about Turner sticking with Heather through thick and thin? Is that who Turner was cheating with?” Clint asked next.
Emily wanted to deny that assertion, but she had to keep an open mind.
“Violet?” Marvin’s expression went from worried to confused. “She had a thing for Keith, but he never gave her the time of day. Too damn bossy.”
“Did that make her angry?” Emily was taken aback that the question had come from her. But there it was out in the open.
Marvin’s gaze narrowed again. “Hell, she was your friend. You tell me.”
“Watch your mouth,” Clint warned.
Marvin was right. How could she do this?
Emily backed off, wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can’t take any more of this.
Let’s just go to Caruthers. Let him talk to Justine about our theory and what I discovered at her house,” she said to Clint, suddenly realizing that she’d forgotten to tell him about her visit to Justine’s.
He was going to be annoyed. His gaze collided with hers and that prophecy was fulfilled.
“Wait a minute.” Marvin’s expression turned nervous. “Keith was my friend. Why would I hurt him? Why would I have hurt Heather? Or Ray? The very idea is crazy! But those photos of Justine’s . . . those are something else altogether. They have nothing to do with any of this.”
Shock quaked through Emily. How could Marvin know about the photos? She’d meant that they should tell Mike about Justine’s missing necklace and the fact that Ray Hale had “lost” the necklace found in Heather’s hand. Surely Marvin wasn’t talking about the same photos Emily had discovered.
“They might matter,” she challenged, taking a shot in the dark. And hoping like hell she’d find out what pictures he was talking about. Did Justine have pictures of him experimenting with his sexuality? Or just having fun?
“I think Emily’s right,” Clint said quietly, playing along. “We should all three go see Acting Chief Caruthers and see what he thinks.”
Fear bulged Marvin’s eyes. “Wait. If you want some real motivation, why don’t you ask Justine these questions?”
“What does that mean?” Emily demanded as if she didn’t see the connection. She didn’t actually.
“Violet had a major crush on Keith, sure,” Marvin said with a nod as he looked from Clint to Emily. “But it was Justine who was totally obsessed with him.”
“Justine Mallory was our teacher,” Emily reminded him.
Marvin’s suggestion was ludicrous. “Ten or twelve years older than us.” Recent headlines would suggest that Marvin’s assertion wasn’t such a ridiculous idea.
As would Justine’s kinky sex fetishes but still.
This was Justine. Everybody loved her. Emily’s biggest concern was what about the missing necklace?
Marvin exchanged a look with Clint. Emily didn’t get it. What could the two of them possibly share other than species and airspace?
“Trust me,” Marvin insisted, his expression manic.
“She had a thing for Keith. She got all obsessed and shit with him. When she found out he was dating Heather again that last time, she went nuts. He was all she talked about, even when I was giving it to her—if you know what I mean,” he said to Clint.
“And Keith . . .” Marvin shrugged, “. . . he was torn big-time. He liked being with Justine. Hell, who didn’t?
But I think her coming on so strong freaked him out. ”
Emily felt weak all over. Justine had been jealous of Heather? She’d been having sex with the guys? How could Emily not have known this?
“You’d better not say you got that from me,” Marvin warned, his face suddenly going pale. “If she found out . . .”
“So what?” Clint argued. “What can she possibly do to you now? If she’s guilty of what you say, then she needs to face the consequences.”
“You know she’s guilty,” Marvin said to Clint, then looked around as if he was afraid someone would hear.
“All I can say is, it’s like my daddy always told me.
This is Alabama. The Bible Belt and all that.
You can raise cattle your whole life and never be called a rancher but get caught sucking one dick and you’re a queer for life.
No offense to alternative lifestyles but my wife can never know this.
” He backed toward his door. “Whatever you do, just keep my name out of it.”
Clint couldn’t get Emily out of there fast enough. Her head was spinning; her stomach churned as they climbed back into his truck to go.
“Is any of that possible?” she asked, knowing Marvin hadn’t directed certain comments to Clint for no reason.
“I remember the year I started high school. Justine Mallory had only been at Pine Bluff High I think three or four years.” He shrugged. “All the guys thought she was beautiful. I was a freshman and damned stupid, but I wasn’t blind. She was beautiful.”
Emily didn’t interrupt him. She was afraid if she said a word to encourage him, the truth she didn’t want to hear would come spilling out faster than it already was.
“By senior year, I could see the writing on the wall. She always had her picks. A couple of guys each year, usually athletes. But nobody could prove it and the boys never said a word. I don’t know how she kept them from bragging, but nobody I suspected was involved with her ever talked.
” He glanced at Emily. “But I knew. She hit on me my senior year. I ignored her and that was the end of it. But she had it in for me after that. I barely survived her class.”
Emily didn’t know how to feel. They were talking fifteen years. Justine had been teaching here for a decade and a half. That meant dozens of guys. “Surely someone would’ve suspected something or one of the guys would have talked.”
“I can’t answer that.” He braked for the first traffic light as they entered Pine Bluff proper.
“All I can say is what I suspected. Maybe she stopped. Apparently there were blackmail photos. That sure appears to be the way Justine kept Marvin quiet.” Clint held Emily’s gaze.
“What were you talking about when you said something about a discovery at Justine’s house? Did you find the necklace?”
Oh hell. He wasn’t going to like this. “When I went off on that tangent about Marvin I completely forgot I hadn’t told you.
” She quickly recounted to Clint what she’d seen and heard and how she hadn’t found Justine’s necklace.
“The pictures were really wild.” Emily shuddered at the idea that there could actually be something to what Marvin had said.
“The ones I saw could definitely be construed as blackmail photos,” she added. “And all that expensive jewelry . . .” That part suddenly surfaced amid her worrisome thoughts and she shared that aspect with Clint as well. “How could she afford all that?”
“You went to her house,” Clint said, his face stony when he glanced at her, “and took that kind of risk? What were you thinking?”
“I was desperate to find out if she still had her necklace.” Emily couldn’t fully absorb the scope of what they were alleging here.
Maybe it was the concussion. “It’s hard to believe I was that close to her all those years and didn’t suspect a thing.
She was a friend to all the cheerleaders.
Everybody loved her.” Still did, Emily realized, recalling her recent visit to the school.
“A good enough friend to know about the open window?” Clint asked. “To know Heather would be in your bed that night?”
He braked for a light and their gazes collided again. Emily felt the earth shift beneath her. “Yes.”