Faces Of Evil: Traceless Part 31

"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 ofa"blaming the wrong guy for killing Heather.

"I didn't put him in the hospital," Clint a.s.sured her. "Alcohol poisoning and possibly dehydration probably 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 maybe Keith, may have other names on their 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 a.s.sessment.

"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 that 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 relations.h.i.+p." 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."

"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..."

Was murdered. Marvin and Keith became friends again.

"Marvin Cook had a thing with Heather Baker even after she started dating Turner?"

Emily made a wishy-washy gesture with her hands. "Not a thing. Heather used him to make Keith jealous." She hated to speak ill of her friend, but it was the truth. "We all did stuff like that back in high school. We were stupid kids."

"Then I say we see what Cook knows."

10:40 p.m.

Emily let her mind rest the fifteen minutes it took to reach Marv's place. She didn't want to form any opinions until after she'd heard what he had to say... if anything. She was certain he couldn't have killed Heather any more than Keith could have. But Clint was right. An open mind, objectivity, was imperative.

Clint shut his headlights off before pulling into the driveway. The double-wide trailer stood on a corner lot at the edge of the farm belonging to Marvin's daddy.

"You stay in the truck." Clint shut off the engine.

"No way." When he would have protested, she pointed out something he obviously hadn't considered. "He might actually talk to me, but we both know he's not going to talk to you. And, personally, I'd like to get this done without sending anyone to the ER."

Clint didn't argue.

The temperature had dropped just barely enough to make it bearable outside without the aid of air-conditioning, but it was still muggy. Good thing, since Clint's old truck had none, except for the windows.

He insisted on going up the steps to the deck first. She knew he wanted to protect her, and on some level she appreciated it. Right now, though, she just wanted to get some answers.

He banged on the door. Emily flinched, hoped Marv's wife wouldn't make a big fuss. What sounded like a TV game show was the only sound inside.

"Who the h.e.l.l is it?" Marv bellowed through the door.

Emily put her hand on Clint's arm to restrain his response. "Marv, it's me. I need your help."

Clint ushered her back a step when the outside light came on and the doork.n.o.b turned. Good thing, too; the door flew open and banged against the exterior wall. Marvin's gaze narrowed when it landed on Clint. "What the h.e.l.l do you want?" Dressed in nothing but boxers and with a beer in his hand, he glared at Emily. "Are you crazy showing up here with him, Em?"

Emily refused to let Cook make her feel like the traitor he wanted to label her. She had the truth on her side. As far as the crazy part went, yeah, maybe at one time she had been crazy. But right now she was thinking clearly for the first time in a very long time.

"We need to talk, Cook," Clint said. "We can do it without a fuss, or we can do it the hard way."

Cook pointed a finger at him. "I have to look at your f.u.c.king face every day 'cause Higgins is a fool, but I don't have to talk to you now. Get off my property!" He directed that same rage at Emily. "And you, you'rea""

"Careful," Clint warned, his voice low and lethal.

A twinge of uneasiness rippled through Emily. Maybe coming here had been a bad idea. But Heather was dead. Keith and Ray were dead. There were no bad ideas when it came to attempting to solve their murders, just desperate ones.

"A witness has come forward to confirm Clint's alibi," Emily spoke up. It was past time people knew the truth. "Clint didn't kill Heather, Marv. We sent the wrong man to prison."

His eyes tapered into scornful slits. "You said he did it. You were there!"

"I was wrong," Emily admitted, her chin high, her shoulders square, in spite of the trembling his reminder set in motion. "And for your information, since you didn't bother showing up at the trial, I said he was in the room. I said he had blood on him. I couldn't say for sure he killed her, though I wanted to at the time. His attorney pointed that out repeatedly."

"I've got nothing to say," Marvin snapped, unconvinced or uncaring, maybe both.

"If you'd prefer," Clint suggested, "we could just take the information we've gathered so far to the police. After hearing it, I'm pretty sure they'll want to talk to you."

Clint was exaggerating with that, but hey, if it worked.

Marvin's face turned fire-engine red. "We'll talk right here." He stepped out onto the deck and closed the door. "I don't want Jean hearing any of this." He gave equal time with his glare, first to Clint, then to Emily.

Clint kicked off the conversation with, "The police never bothered to question you when Heather Baker was murdered."

"I wasn't her boyfriend at the time," Marvin snarled before taking a slug of his beer.

Emily wondered how she could ever have thought Marvin was cute or nice. "You dated," she reminded him, her voice sounding small after the men's deep, angry snarls.

Marvin looked at her as if he could rip off her head and spit down her throat. "A couple of times. She just used me, but then you were her best friend, so you knew that. Probably laughed about it." He folded his arms over his belly in a show of defiance.

"She did, but that didn't mean she didn't like you, Marv. Heather was young. We all were. We did stupid stuff." Talking about those days made Emily's stomach even queasier. She wished there were another way. "But nothing she did should have cost her life."

Emily's last words seemed to take the wind out of Marvin's sails. "What do you want? Last time we talked you were accusing Keith of killing her."

"Keith is dead," she reminded Marvin.

The regret in Marvin's eyes told her she hadn't needed to remind him. "And so's Ray," he muttered before turning up his beer can once more. "Makes you wonder who the h.e.l.l's next." He didn't look at either of them as he said this.

Clint ignored his comment and took the lead again. "Was Turner cheating on Heather at the time of her murder? And why didn't the police bother to question either of you?"

Emily frowned. "The police didn't question Keith?" But that was absurd. Even though she couldn't believe he was involved in Heather's murder, logic dictated that the boyfriend would be questioned.

Clint's attention s.h.i.+fted briefly to Emily. "They had me. Why question anybody else?"

"Wait a minute," Marvin piped up. "You're wrong; they did question us. Anybody who knew Heather got questioned."

"And what was your alibi?" Clint pressed.

Marvin shrugged. "I was home all night."

"Who vouched for you?"

Worry etched across his face. "n.o.body... I told Chief Ledbetter where I was and that was the end of it."

"Then you weren't really questioned," Clint argued. "They took your word and left it at that. The parading of Heather's cla.s.smates through City Hall was for show."

Jesus. Maybe he was right. Emily vaguely recalled some of the other students saying that all they'd had to do was say what they were doing that night. No pressure. No discomfort. A mock investigation. The police hadn't been looking for a killer; they already had Clint pegged. Just like he said.

"So where were you that night?" Clint asked, pursuing the more sensitive issue.

Marvin's guard went up. "I told you, I was home."

Clint eased closer to him. "Maybe you and Turner had it out, then decided to make her pay for using the both of you, or maybe you didn't want anyone else to have her if you couldn't."

Marvin's jowls quivered with the force of his head moving from side to side in denial. "I wasn't that hung up on her. I swear. I was p.i.s.sed, yeah, but I got over it. I wouldn't have hurt Heather. No way."

"What about Violet? How did she feel about Turner sticking with Heather through thick and thin? Is that who Turner was cheating with?"

Emily wanted to deny that a.s.sertion, but she had to keep an open mind.

"Violet?" Marvin's expression went from worried to confused. "She had a thing for Keith, but he never gave her the time of day. Too f.u.c.king bossy."

"Did that make her angry?" Emily was taken aback that the question had come from her. But there it was... out in the open.

Marvin's gaze narrowed again. "h.e.l.l, she was your friend; you tell me."

"Watch your mouth," Clint warned.

Marvin was right. How could she do this? Emily backed off, wrapped her arms around her waist. "I can't take any more of this. Let's just go to Deputy Caruthers with this information. Let him talk to Justine about our theory and what I discovered at her house," she said to Clint, suddenly realizing that she'd forgotten to tell him about her visit to Justine's. He was going to be p.i.s.sed. His gaze collided with hers and that prophecy was fulfilled.

"Wait a minute." Marvin's expression turned nervous. "Keith was my friend. Why would I hurt him? Why would I have hurt Heather? Or Ray? This is crazy! Those photos of Justine's are something else altogether. They have nothing to do with any of this."

Shock quaked through Emily. How could Marvin know about the photos? She'd meant that they should tell Deputy Caruthers about Justine's missing necklace and the fact that Ray Hale had "lost" the necklace found in Heather's hand. Surely Marvin wasn't talking about the same photos Emily had discovered.

"They might matter," she challenged, taking a shot in the dark. And hoping like h.e.l.l she'd find out what pictures he was talking about. Did Justine have pictures of him... like that?

"I think Emily's right," Clint said quietly, playing along. "We should all three go see Acting Chief Caruthers and see what he thinks."

Fear bulged Marvin's eyes. "Wait. If you want some real motivation, why don't you ask Justine these questions?"

"What does that mean?" Emily demanded as if she didn't see the connection. She didn't... actually.

"Violet had a major crush on Keith, sure," Marvin said with a nod as he looked from Clint to Emily. "But it was Justine who was f.u.c.king obsessed with him."

"Justine Mallory was our teacher," Emily reminded. Marvin's suggestion was ludicrous. "Ten or twelve years older than us." Recent headlines would suggest that Marvin's a.s.sertion wasn't such a ridiculous idea. As would Justine's apparently strange s.e.x fetishes... but still. This was Justine. Everybody loved her. But what about the missing necklace?

Marvin exchanged a look with Clint. Emily didn't get it. What could the two of them possibly share other than species and airs.p.a.ce?

"Trust me," Marvin insisted, his expression manic. "She had a thing for Keith. She got all obsessed and s.h.i.+t with him. When she found out he was dating Heather again that last time, she went nuts. He was all she talked about, even when I was giving it to hera"if you know what I mean," he said to Clint. "And Keith..." Marvin shrugged, "...he was torn big-time. He liked being with Justine. h.e.l.l, who wouldn't? But I think her coming on so strong scared him."

Emily felt weak all over. Justine had been jealous of Heather? She'd been having s.e.x with the guys? How could Emily not have known this?

"You'd better not say you got that from me," Marvin warned, his face suddenly going pale. "If she found out..."

"So what?" Clint argued. "What can she possibly do to you now? If she's guilty of what you say, then she needs to face the consequences."

"You know she's guilty," Marvin said to Clint, then looked around as if he was afraid someone would hear. "All I can say is, it's like my daddy always told me, down here in Alabama you can raise cattle your whole life and never be called a rancher, but get caught sucking one d.i.c.k and you're a queer for life." He backed toward his door. "Whatever you do, just keep my name out of it."

Clint couldn't get Emily out of there fast enough. Her head was spinning; her stomach churned.

"Is any of that possible?" she asked, knowing Marvin hadn't directed certain comments to Clint for no reason.

"I remember the year Justine Mallory started her teaching career at Pine Bluff High," he said. "All the guys thought she was beautiful. I was a freshman and d.a.m.ned stupid, but I wasn't blind. She was beautiful."

Emily didn't interrupt him. She was afraid if she said a word to encourage him, the truth she didn't want to hear would come spilling out faster than it already was.

"By senior year, I could see the writing on the wall. She always had her picks. A couple of guys each year, usually athletes. But n.o.body could prove it and the boys never said a word. I don't know how she kept them from bragging, but n.o.body I suspected might be involved with her ever talked.

"But I knew." He glanced at Emily. "She hit on me my senior year. I ignored her and that was the end of it. But she had it in for me after that. I barely survived her cla.s.s."

Emily didn't know how to feel. They were talking fifteen years here. That meant dozens of guys. "Surely someone would've suspected something."

"I can't answer that." He braked for the first traffic light as they entered Pine Bluff proper. "All I can say is what I suspected. Maybe she stopped. Evidently there were blackmail pictures. That sure appears to be the way Justine kept Marvin quiet." Clint held Emily's gaze. "What were you talking about when you said something about a discovery at Justine's house? Did you find the necklace?"

Oh, h.e.l.l. She'd forgotten to tell him about that. He wasn't going to like it. "When I went off on that tangent about Marvin I completely forgot." She quickly told Clint what she'd seen and heard and how she hadn't found Justine's necklace where she'd said it was stored. "The pictures were really bizarre." Emily shuddered at the idea that there could be something to what Marvin had said. Definitely those could be construed as blackmail photos. "And all that expensive jewelry..." That part suddenly surfaced amid her worrisome thoughts "...How could she afford all that?"

"You went to her house," Clint said, his face stony when he glanced at her, "and took that kind of risk? What were you thinking?"

"I was desperate to find out if she had her necklace." Emily still couldn't fully absorb the scope of what they were alleging here. "It's hard to believe I was that close to her all those years and didn't suspect a thing. She was a friend to all the cheerleaders. Everybody loved her." Still did, Emily realized, recalling her recent visit to the school.

"A good enough friend to know about the open window?" Clint asked. "To know Heather would be in your bed that night?"

He braked for a light and their gazes collided again. Emily felt the earth s.h.i.+ft beneath her. "Yes."

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.