2 On the Nickel (13 page)

“No,” the desk clerk said, motioning
me back to the seating area. “You wait here.”

Bud Flook vanished into the
building. I sat. I paced. I waited. And I waited some more. The wet spot on my
blouse from Charla’s tearful outburst dried. I went to the bathroom. And still
nothing.

I walked up to the front desk
again. “Are you sure I can’t go back there?”

“I’m sure, lady.” He gestured
toward the orange chairs. “Take a seat.”

I didn’t want to sit. I wanted
action. I wanted the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach to go away. I
wanted my skin to stop crawling.

Pairs of officers passed through
the room and entered the sacred inner sanctum. Their cop eyes studied me and dismissed me. The contrary part of me wanted to stand up and say, “I can be a threat.
I’m trouble.” But I stopped short of making a spectacle of myself.

One spectacle in the family was
enough.

I crossed and recrossed my legs.
I brushed the dog hair off my slacks. I counted the tiles on the floor, then
the ones in the ceiling. I thought about calling Jonette to come keep me company when her shift at the Tavern ended.

Then the door opened. My least
favorite cop in the whole world stepped forward. He motioned me over. I leapt to my feet and followed. My heart raced as I was ushered down a side corridor
and into a sterile-looking room. My thoughts about the décor came in crisp bullets. Pale blue walls. Classier furniture than the lobby. Beige-colored padded
chairs with chrome frames and plastic-covered armrests.

I took the seat he indicated on
the far side of the room. Questions burst out of me with machine-gun rapidity
as I perched on the edge of my chair. “Where’s Mama? Why did you arrest her?
Can I take her home tonight? Can I see her?”

Britt sat down across from me, pen and notebook in hand. Oh, Lord. Was I under suspicion too? My palms dampened. Fear
clawed at me, but I held tough. I was innocent. “Well?”

“There is a broken headlight on
Delilah’s car.”

Britt’s dark eyes drilled into me. The chords in his thick fireplug neck bulged. I gave it right back to him. “Headlights get
broken all the time.”

A muscle in his tanned cheek
twitched. “You should have stepped forward.”

Why would I volunteer
incriminating evidence? He had the power here, and that didn’t sit well with me. Britt claimed he was my friend. He wasn’t treating me like a friend. “You should have told me Mama was being investigated.”

“You should have realized Delilah
was a suspect based on her relationship with the deceased.”

His unyielding tone worried me. Had he already tried and convicted Mama in his head? Was he forgetting that the deceased
wasn’t little Miss Sunshine? “Erica had run-ins with other people. Mama wasn’t
the only person she didn’t get along with.”

He studied me intently. “Delilah
is the only person she didn’t get along with who has a damaged car.”

I swear I didn’t squirm in my
seat, but I mentally flinched. Poor Mama. One misstep on my part and she would
wear a prison jumpsuit the rest of her days. She hated the color orange.

“Mama says she didn’t kill
anyone,” I said.

He tugged at his shirt collar. “I
have a team of forensic experts going over her car. We will know soon if that
car was the murder weapon.”

I paled. “You think Mama
intentionally killed Erica Hodges?”

“Delilah had the motive and the means. Whether she had the opportunity remains to be seen.”

I’d thought the same thing, but I didn’t like hearing it from a police detective. I could buy that there had been
a car accident. Not murder. “Mama didn’t murder anyone.”

Britt glared at me.

“What did she tell you?” I asked.

“Nothing helpful. She called me every name in the book. The only thing that shut her up was the arrival of her lawyer. Bud
got her calmed down, but now she won’t tell me anything.”

I shook my head in disbelief.
Mama’s behavior made no sense. “I don’t understand.”

Britt ignored my comment and flipped his notebook open. “I need to ask you a few questions, Cleo. What can you tell me about that night?”

My heart sank. Britt would know
the times didn’t match up, and that would be all he needed to lock Mama up for
good. God help us all. I swallowed thickly. “The night Erica died?”

“Yes. Where was Delilah?”

“She was home all afternoon.” I
thought about the events of that night for a few seconds. I would state things
in the most favorable light. If Britt drew the wrong conclusion, that wasn’t my
fault. “After supper she drove Francine and Muriel to the Hospitality Committee
meeting. Mama went straight to bed when she got home.”

“What time did she go out?”

“A little before seven. You asked
me these questions this morning at church.”

Britt scribbled something else. “What time did she return?”

I stared at my hands on the
table. “I was busy with the girls when she came in. We were getting their new
bookbags ready for school the next day. The thing that stuck in my mind was
that Mama went to bed earlier than the girls. Sorry. I didn’t note the exact time.”

With any luck that would be good
enough.

Britt pressed on. “What time did the girls go to bed?”

He wouldn’t let this go. I
exhaled half a breath of air. “Sometime between nine and ten.”

“If you estimated the time of Delilah’s return, it would be?”

“I wasn’t paying attention. I
don’t recall.” Britt jotted more notes. I would have given anything to see what
he was writing.

“What level of physical activity
can she reasonably perform with her heart condition?”

Fear for Mama washed over me. “Is Mama all right? Does she need her heart medicine?”

“Delilah is fine. I brought her
in myself.”

My stomach clenched. “You took
her off the side of the road. In front of my children.”

“I had no choice. Not once I saw
the car.” He flipped back through his book until he found what he was looking
for. “What would you say her state of mind was prior to going out Tuesday
evening?”

I chewed on the inside of my
mouth. I didn’t want to answer this question.

Britt leaned forward. “Her state
of mind, Cleo. What was her state of mind that night?”

My lungs burned for air. I took a
shallow breath. I loved my mother. I did not want to do any harm here. The room
spun a little. I had no choice. The truth was all I had. “Mama seemed off.”

Britt’s interest level spiked. So
did his eyebrows. “Off? How?”

I looked away. I didn’t want to
do this. Why wouldn’t he stop with the questions? “Off.” I gestured wildly with
my hands. “Preoccupied. Fuzzy. You know. Off.”

Britt sat very still. “What did
she say when you asked her about her car?”

My clammy skin flushed with heat.
“She said nothing was wrong with her car. We went outside, and she was shocked
by the damage.”

“And?”

“And nothing. She clammed up on me.”

“How did you get her to talk?”

“I didn’t.” I shifted uneasily in
my seat. “I’ve answered your questions. My turn to be the detective. What
charges are you holding her on?”

“I brought Delilah here under
probable cause. She’s a person of interest.”

“What’s that?”

“The body of evidence points to
Delilah.”

The room spun faster. I wanted
the body of evidence to point to someone else. “Is she under arrest? Do I need
to post bail?”

“You were doing good until then.
As per police questioning one-oh-one, you only ask one question at a time.”

I wanted to snatch him up by the
collar of his snug navy-blue polo and shake him. Instead I counted to five and
asked again. “Is Mama under arrest?”

“Charges against her are pending.”

“Is she free to go?”

Britt frowned. “Yes. But she
can’t leave town.”

I couldn’t get her to go twenty
miles to visit a retirement community. “Mama isn’t going anywhere.”

“Just as well. I’d have to come get her if she left. This is very serious, Cleo.”

As if I didn’t know that. “Can I
take her home?”

Britt nodded. “You’re both free
to go. For now.”

For now. Time was running out on
Mama’s freedom. Fear ruled my heart, hammered through my veins. I needed more
time to prove Erica’s death was an accident.

Not murder.

It couldn’t be murder.

I flicked a quick glance at
Britt. His cop eyes didn’t miss much. I had the nauseating feeling he knew what
I’d been thinking.

I wished that went both ways. All
I saw when I looked at him was grim resolve.

I stood up on shaky legs and
grabbed the back of the chair to steady myself. “I’m not used to being
interrogated.”

Britt opened the door with a
scowl. “You were interviewed. Big difference.”

Easy for him to say. This whole
experience had been harrowing. I wanted to get Mama out of here before something else went wrong. I followed him through another door, and there was Mama and Bud Flook.
I rushed forward and took her hand.

Mama’s face was pale. Too pale.
She seemed very surprised to see me. “Time to go home, Mama,” I said.

“I can go?” Mama’s gaze darted
between Britt and Bud as if she thought her release was a cruel trick.

Britt’s well-muscled body blocked
the doorway. “Charges against you are pending, Delilah. Don’t leave town.”

“Hmmph,” Mama muttered as she
stood.

Her legs seemed to be working better than mine. My mind raced ahead to resolve the next obstacle. I didn’t
have any way to get us home. “Can we catch a ride with you, Bud?”

“No problem,” Bud said.

I put Mama in the back seat of
Bud’s large car and then climbed in after her. I rubbed my face. “God, this has
been a long night.”

“Don’t start in on me,” Mama said. “This hasn’t been a pleasure cruise for me, either.”

“You’re in trouble, Mama. Let me help you.”

“I made this mess. I’ll clean it up.”

“It’s my mess too, Mama. We’ll
talk about this later,” I replied.

Bud and Mama exchanged a glance
via the rearview mirror as Bud eased out of the lighted parking lot. His
Lincoln Town Car was older than dirt, but the back seat was spacious and clean,
even if it did reek of cigars. I sighed with gratitude. We were finally headed
home.

By all rights, I should be
playing underwear show-and-tell over at Rafe’s house. Not going to happen this
evening. So not going to happen.

Bud turned on the radio. Big band
music blared in my ear the rest of the way home. “Thanks for the lift,” I said
when he pulled up behind Rafe’s red convertible in my driveway.

“Nice wheels,” Bud said, nodding
towards Rafe’s car. “I would have turned pro years ago if I could have bought a
ride like that.”

Rafe must have been watching for
our arrival from the kitchen. He came out and helped me get Mama up the steps
and in the house.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Peachy.” Mama stopped and
propped her fists on her hips. “Bud, you go on home. I can walk to my room
alone, Cleo. You take care of your fella.” She clomped out of the room and up
the stairs under her own power. Bud shrugged and left. Then it was just me and Rafe.

I took his hand and led him to
the living room. We sat on the sofa. “Thanks for your help, Rafe. I couldn’t
have done this without you. The girls went to bed without any trouble?”

“They sacked out a few hours ago.”
Rafe kissed my hand. “Well?”

My fingers itched to smooth his
flyaway hair off his brow. “Well, nothing. This rates right up there with the
worst evening of my life.”

His gaze narrowed dangerously. “I
thought you enjoyed dinner.”

“I did.” I leaned back into the
cushy sofa and his arm drew me in close. I needed his warmth. His strength. “It’s
the other parts of the evening that stink.”

“We could go upstairs and I could
make everything better for you.” A wicked grin lit his face. Hope sparkled in
his sexy eyes.

“No. Not here,” I said with
regret. He knew the rules. I didn’t sleep with him in this house.

“Don’t shut me out, Red. I want to help. What happened at the police station?”

He deserved to know, even though
telling him would destroy any final illusions he had about my wacky family. I
gripped my shaking hands in my lap. “Mama’s not under arrest. Yet. They are
conducting forensic tests on her car.”

Rafe whistled softly. “Sounds
like you need a criminal defense attorney.”

His comment infuriated me, even though my thoughts had been running along the same lines. “Mama didn’t murder anyone.
You’ll see. I’ll get to the bottom of this, and then everything will be fine.”

His features hardened. “I don’t
want you getting to the bottom of this. You got lucky last time. You could’ve been killed.”

Frustration sharpened my voice. “I
can’t sit back and do nothing.”

“Your mother is a grown-up,” he
countered.

“That’s what she’d like everyone
to believe.”

“Dammit, Cleo. Stay out of it.”

Patience had never been my strong
suit, and tonight’s adventure had exceeded my ability to cope. Rafe wanted me to be safe. But I couldn’t accommodate his wants and help Mama. I stood and gestured toward
the door. “Time for you to go home.”

He studied me from the couch. For
a moment I thought he wouldn’t budge, but he surprised me by taking my hand and
rising. “You aren’t coming home with me?” he asked.

Perversely, that’s exactly what I
wanted, to spend the night in his arms and let Mama’s problems run their
course. I reached deep for the courage to turn him down. “I can’t. Not tonight.
My family needs me. My family is important to me.”

Rafe stopped in the doorway, his
fingers skimming the side of my cheek. “You’re important to me. I don’t want your mother taking advantage of you.”

I edged him out the door. The
lock snicked in place. “You’re about thirty-eight years too late for that.”