eat my supper. Married friends checkin up to see how I was. Pastor Ray makin sure I was all right. I knew he'd be callin ever widow and single woman in his church. My son and daughter both called. "Mama, I just can't stand this worryin about you every night." Donelle's voice was tight-throated. "It's time you moved here to live with us. Memphis isn't that far away from Amaryllis. You could still visit your friends."
Sometimes the thought a movin in with Donelle sounded good. Specially when I drug home from cleanin houses, feelin so beat. But what would I do in my daughter's house all day while she at work, her husband too? And they kids in school? I didn't know nobody in Memphis. All my friends is in Amaryllis. I was raised here, my parents was raised here. I don't want to go nowhere. Besides it's not fair I should change my whole life cause a some blood-thirsty murderer. He deserves to pay for his crimes, not me.
That thought made me all the more determined to follow through on my plan. If Cherrie Mae Devine could help catch this killer and save Amaryllis, so be it. I had to walk in the shoes God done stitched for me.
I just managed to hang up from talkin to Donelle when the phone rang again. I answered on automatic.
"Good evening, Mrs. Devine. This is Trent Williams."
Oh, mercy, the reporter. Why hadn't I checked the ID before I picked up the phone? "Hello, Trent. I heard you was in town."
"Yes, ma'am." He spoke friendly enough but fast, like he was pressed for time. "Unfortunately I'm looking into this latest murder. I heard you visited Erika Hollinger the evening before her death. What did you two talk about?"
"Who tol you that?" Couldn't be the po lice. They didn't talk to Trent Williams. His prize-winning article on the Closet Killings last year hadn't made them look so good.
Maybe Erika's mama told him.
"It is true, isn't it?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Can you at least verify that you were with Erika?"
"Nope."
He sighed. "Come on, Mrs. Devine, can you give me something? You're bound to have some important insights, as the last known person to see her alive."
My heart went a little softer. Trent was callin in favors as the local boy, and why shouldn't he? He'd made Amaryllis proud. "Trent, it's not that I don't want to help you. It's just that I done tol everthing I need to the po lice. And I don't want my name in the paper."
I sure didn't need any eyes on me if I was gon carry out my plan.
"Well, did Erika say anything to you that would indicate why someone would want to kill her?"
Did serial killers need a motiveâother than they just plain crazy? "No. Was there a reason to kill the rest a those women?"
"I don't know, it's just . . . I've asked that question about every victim, hoping it'll trigger a thought in someone's mind. Some reason for all this." Frustration filled Trent's tone. "The worst thing about these murders is the randomness. If we could just make some sense of it all."
The why question. Trent's article had talked bout that. The whole town wondered why.
I shook my head. "Crime is common; logic is rare."
"What?"
"Sherlock Holmes."
Silence. Trent must be thinkin that one over.
"So, Mrs. Devine, do you have anything for me?" It was almost a plea.
What I had was my own question: did Trent know where Mayor B was during all six murders?
"Sorry, Trent. I need to go now."
"If you change your mind, please call me on this number. It's my cell phone."
"All right, young man. And I thank you for what you doin. Maybe one day you will find somethin to help crack this case." Goodness know the po lice weren't havin much luck.
"Oh, Mrs. Devine, one last thing. When you were with Erika, did she eat any brownies?"
My head drew back. "Why you want to know that?"
"I imagine if she did, that's something you told the police?"
"They tell you that?"
He sighed. "No. They're not talking to me."
I licked my lips. Smart as I knew Trent was, I done underestimated him. If he hadn't talked to the po
Sometimes the thought a movin in with Donelle sounded good. Specially when I drug home from cleanin houses, feelin so beat. But what would I do in my daughter's house all day while she at work, her husband too? And they kids in school? I didn't know nobody in Memphis. All my friends is in Amaryllis. I was raised here, my parents was raised here. I don't want to go nowhere. Besides it's not fair I should change my whole life cause a some blood-thirsty murderer. He deserves to pay for his crimes, not me.
That thought made me all the more determined to follow through on my plan. If Cherrie Mae Devine could help catch this killer and save Amaryllis, so be it. I had to walk in the shoes God done stitched for me.
I just managed to hang up from talkin to Donelle when the phone rang again. I answered on automatic.
"Good evening, Mrs. Devine. This is Trent Williams."
Oh, mercy, the reporter. Why hadn't I checked the ID before I picked up the phone? "Hello, Trent. I heard you was in town."
"Yes, ma'am." He spoke friendly enough but fast, like he was pressed for time. "Unfortunately I'm looking into this latest murder. I heard you visited Erika Hollinger the evening before her death. What did you two talk about?"
"Who tol you that?" Couldn't be the po lice. They didn't talk to Trent Williams. His prize-winning article on the Closet Killings last year hadn't made them look so good.
Maybe Erika's mama told him.
"It is true, isn't it?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Can you at least verify that you were with Erika?"
"Nope."
He sighed. "Come on, Mrs. Devine, can you give me something? You're bound to have some important insights, as the last known person to see her alive."
My heart went a little softer. Trent was callin in favors as the local boy, and why shouldn't he? He'd made Amaryllis proud. "Trent, it's not that I don't want to help you. It's just that I done tol everthing I need to the po lice. And I don't want my name in the paper."
I sure didn't need any eyes on me if I was gon carry out my plan.
"Well, did Erika say anything to you that would indicate why someone would want to kill her?"
Did serial killers need a motiveâother than they just plain crazy? "No. Was there a reason to kill the rest a those women?"
"I don't know, it's just . . . I've asked that question about every victim, hoping it'll trigger a thought in someone's mind. Some reason for all this." Frustration filled Trent's tone. "The worst thing about these murders is the randomness. If we could just make some sense of it all."
The why question. Trent's article had talked bout that. The whole town wondered why.
I shook my head. "Crime is common; logic is rare."
"What?"
"Sherlock Holmes."
Silence. Trent must be thinkin that one over.
"So, Mrs. Devine, do you have anything for me?" It was almost a plea.
What I had was my own question: did Trent know where Mayor B was during all six murders?
"Sorry, Trent. I need to go now."
"If you change your mind, please call me on this number. It's my cell phone."
"All right, young man. And I thank you for what you doin. Maybe one day you will find somethin to help crack this case." Goodness know the po lice weren't havin much luck.
"Oh, Mrs. Devine, one last thing. When you were with Erika, did she eat any brownies?"
My head drew back. "Why you want to know that?"
"I imagine if she did, that's something you told the police?"
"They tell you that?"
He sighed. "No. They're not talking to me."
I licked my lips. Smart as I knew Trent was, I done underestimated him. If he hadn't talked to the po
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