“Thank God for Safe&Secure.” She closed her eyes and fought the emotion that tried to overwhelm her. She hated to tell Clint the rest, but considering he’d had to bring her clothes, there wasn’t really any way to get out of explaining what had happened to the ones she’d been wearing.
“Someone set my car on fire with me in it,” she said finally. “When they pushed it into the ravine, it hit a tree and the airbags deployed. The voice coming from Safe&Secure helped me get out ...” She shuddered, remembering the moment when that adrenaline rush had given her the strength she needed to move.
One of the cops had told Emily that the fire had been in the front seat and had burned itself out since so much of the vehicle’s interior was flame-retardant. What could have killed her, though, was if her clothes had caught fire, since she’d been drenched in gasoline. For some reason, that hadn’t happened. Either she was damned lucky or her would-be killer had screwed up. Emily shuddered again.
“I stumbled out of the car, and the next thing I knew the police and fire department were there. They’re towing my car in for forensic testing.”
“Son of a bitch!”
Emily closed her eyes and rode out the rest of the curse words, some of which she’d never heard before. Prison slang, she supposed.
“Feel better?” she asked when he’d finished. He shot her a look that was a definite no.
She had no idea where her purse was, but at least she had her cell phone, although the battery was dead. She’d found it on the groundnext to her car. She didn’t remember grabbing it inside the car before she got out, or dropping it. Since it was her phone and the last call made on it was one she’d made, and she’d obscured any possible prints by picking it up, the officer had agreed to let her keep it and not log it into evidence.
“Okay.” Clint glanced at her, his face lined with fury. “My turn.”
He told her how the interview with Mike Caruthers went off without a hitch. Or so it seemed.
“When I got back and found your note, I went to Baker’s looking for you.”
She tensed. “Did you find him?”
He nodded. “He was passed out in his living room.”
“So,” she ventured, “he wasn’t likely the one who did this to me?”
Clint thought about that a moment. “I don’t think so.”
Emily sagged with relief. Another thought occurred to her. She moistened her dry lips. “Did you talk to him?”
“Yeah. In fact, he was brought into the ER just as I got there to pick you up.”
“You roughed him up that badly?” If Troy wasn’t the one to ambush her, then he was only guilty of the same thing she had been guilty of—blaming the wrong guy for killing Heather.
“I didn’t put him in the hospital,” Clint assured her. “Alcohol poisoning and possibly dehydration most likely did that. It’ll be better if they keep him a few days. He needs to sober up and stay out of trouble until ...” He heaved a big breath.
“Until what?” She needed him to be up front with her.
“Until this is over. Whoever killed Ray, and probably Keith, may have other names on his list besides yours and mine.”
“But why would anyone kill Troy? He doesn’t know anything about that night.” Obviously, someone had used Troy or was watching her and had taken advantage of the opportunity.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Clint countered.
After he explained what Troy said to him about his last encounter with Keith, she had to agree with Clint’s assessment.
“Who would Keith have been cheating with?” She started to shake her head but remembered how much it would hurt. “I don’t think it would have been Violet.” She couldn’t grasp the whole idea. “This is confusing. Keith and Heather seemed really happy the week or so before ...”
“Teenage guys can be idiots,” Clint offered, with a knowing glance in her direction.
She shrugged, knew he spoke from personal experience. The same could be said about teenage girls. “Maybe he was having second thoughts about their relationship.” She frowned; it made her head hurt. “But he wouldn’t kill Heather for that.” She rubbed at her achy forehead, didn’t dare touch the back of her skull. “What am I saying? He wouldn’t have killed her, period. She was supposed to tell me some big secret that night after I got back. Maybe she knew he was cheating. Maybe she was going to break up with him.”
“That’s the thing,” Clint said. “This all appears to go back to someone who wanted to hurt Heather. It was never about you.”
“Maybe the other woman,” Emily suggested, since that was the only remaining loose end she could think of at the moment. “Since Keith is dead, I guess we won’t be able to find out who he was cheating with unless Troy knows and just isn’t saying.”
Another memory crashed into her bruised brain. “Wait. Marv ...” She looked up at Clint. “Heather secretly dated Marvin Cook a few times just to make Keith jealous ...” The air in her lungs escaped on the heels of her next thought. “Marv and Keith fought over her that one time. No, twice. They even stopped talking for a while, but then Heather ...”
