“He’s a killer,” Emily reminded her, frustration expanding in her chest and loosening her tongue. How could these women, Heather’s friends, say anything good about Austin? Guilt at the idea that she’d been feeling things she shouldn’t for him had her wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.
Violet and Cathy shared a look.
“What?” Emily demanded, fed up with the uncomfortable direction this casual lunch had taken.
“Look.” Cathy searched Emily’s eyes, her own frank but concerned. “We all know what happened that night.”
“That’s right,” Emily recapped. “We do.”
“I’ve sat through a lot of trials since then, Em,” Cathy went on, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “A hell of a lot of things were mishandled about Austin’s case. That’s all I’m saying. The overturning of his conviction proves so.”
That both Megan and Violet didn’t speak up or argue against the point told Emily that the three had discussed the subject at length and perhaps many times.
Tension strained the muscles of her face as she fought to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I don’t want to talk about Clint Austin or his trial.”
“I’m sorry, Em.” Cathy laid a hand on Emily’s tightly clenched fist. “It was just an observation. If it makes you feel better, Mike and I don’t talk about it either. He goes ape shit every time I bring it up.”
Emily was past ready for this lunch to be over.
“Did any of you hear that someone ran him off the road?” Violet announced, taking the tension to a new level. Her face beamed at the idea that she knew something the others didn’t.
When had that happened? His car had been at work. Out of habit, Emily had taken that route on the way here.
“Really?” Megan’s eyes widened in surprise, probably at the idea that her husband hadn’t written about it in theSentinel.
“Mike said his house was vandalized last night,” Cathy interjected, avoiding eye contact with Emily.
So much for the subject change.
“I heard about that too,” Violet confirmed. “If he were smart, he would leave town now.”
Megan nodded. “It would be better for everyone.”
“At the Den the other night,” Cathy whispered as she leaned forward to ensure no one else overheard, “some of the guys were talking about what they’d like to do to Austin. Even knowing how closely Mike and Ray are watching the situation, I’m expecting to hear about a lynching any day now.”
“What night was that?” Violet demanded, suspicious.
“Don’t worry.” Cathy waved her off. “Keith wasn’t there.”
Emily’s head was spinning. Was Violet afraid of Keith cheating on her? Wasn’t he supposed to be the perfect husband? And what was Cathy doing at the Den? Ten years ago, the only women who dared go there were the trashy ones.
Violet cleared her throat. “Well, maybe Austin will take the hint and leave before someone has to go that far.”
The food arrived, but Emily couldn’t have swallowed a bite if her life had depended upon it.
“Before I forget,” Violet piped up as she meticulously picked the croutons off her salad, “I thought I’d have a party on Saturday night.” She looked from one to the other. “I’ll invite all our friends from school and maybe Justine for old times’ sake. You’ll all come, right?”
And that was that. No one ever said no to Violet. Not to her face anyway. Emily felt ill about the idea already, and it was only Thursday.
21
2:00 p.m.
“I don’t see why you have to be in such a hurry.”
Keith Turner sat on the edge of the bed, his back toher.He hated the way she made him feel, cheap and dirty ... and stupid. “I have to get back to the office.” He reached for his trousers with far more enthusiasm than when he’d taken them off.
“Come on,” she cooed, crawling up close behind him. “Your daddy won’t mind if you stay a little longer.”
