He met her halfway between his truck and her SUV. They hugged and she was keenly aware that Clint Austin had hesitated at the door of the repair shop’s office to watch.
She pulled back from Marv’s embrace and smiled at her old friend. “Can we talk for a minute?”
A familiar grin spread across his face. “Your car or mine?”
“How about mine?” She gestured to her SUV. “I’ve had the engine running so it’ll be cooler.”
“We could go for a beer.”
“Maybe another time.” She smiled to cover the lie. “I only have a few minutes.”
Marv opened the door for her and she slid behind the wheel; then he strutted around to the passenger side. “Nice ride.” He surveyed the interior. “Looks brand new.”
Her parents had pushed until Emily had traded in her old car. They’d insisted on something with an emergency services subscription since she’d been known to lock her keys in her car and to forget her cell phone.
They took overprotectiveness to a new level.
“Thanks,” Emily said in answer to Marv’s compliment. She needed to get to the point before he started asking her questions. But first she might as well ask what he knew about Fairgate. Marv had lived here his whole life; surely he knew something. “Marv, what do you know about Sidney Fairgate?”
His cheeks puffed, then collapsed with the breath that hissed across his lips. “You don’t want to know Psycho Sid,” he said, telling her nothing. “He is big-time bad news.”
She braced a hand on the steering wheel and fisted the other in her lap to keep them steady. “Would you say he’s the kind of man who would physically hurt someone to get what he wanted?”
Marv’s gaze locked with hers. “Definitely. Em, stay away from Sid. He’s frickin’ nuts.”
Dear God. What had her father gotten himself into?
“I had lunch with the girls yesterday,” she said, propping her lips into a smile and moving on to her real reason for this impromptu conversation. She prayed Marv wouldn’t see them tremble. “Cathy and Megan and Violet.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since you guys graduated. Twelve, for me.”
“Yeah.”Breathe. Keep it normal. “Oh, I went by the school too. I saw Justine.”
“Yeah, she’s still around.”
Funny, the mention of Justine’s name usually stirred interest in men rather than the opposite. “Misty Briggs is still around, too, I noticed.”
Marv made a face. “That woman’s as weird as ever.”
“She is,” Emily agreed with a laugh that held not a single nuance of humor. “She said the weirdest thing to me.”
“Yeah?”
This was a long shot.
“Misty,” Emily forged on, her voice stilted in spite of her best efforts, “told me some bizarre story about Austin’s alibi being real. That he was innocent. Isn’t that the most ridiculous line of crap you’ve ever heard?”
“She’s a fruitcake,” Marv said. “Everybody knows what Austin did.” He looked fully at Emily then. “Right? I mean, you were there. You of all people would know.”
She nodded hesitantly.
“It’s a damn shame they released him. His coming back here is making people afraid. Making them second-guess what they know is true.” He studied Emily so closely that she started to feel claustrophobic. “He’s not doing that to you, is he, Em? Making you second-guess the truth?”
“No,” she lied. Partial lie. “It’s just that ...” She swallowed, wished her throat wasn’t so dry. “You don’t think Keith would have hurt Heather, do you?”
This time Marv just stared at her, seemingly stunned, before a visible guard went up. “No way. He loved her too much. Why would you ask something like that?”
She managed an awkward shrug. “I don’t know ... Something’s just not right.”
