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“That’s become apparent, yes.”
“When I took Julia in, I had no idea he would…get involved with her. This was before we found out what a womanizer he is. I’m guessing Paris knew, or suspected, but she never came to us with her concerns. She was probably embarrassed or trying to protect him. She loves him. And he is the father of her child. But…”
“But?” Jonah repeated when her words drifted off.
“If she’d confided in me, maybe I wouldn’t have been foolish enough to try to help Julia.”
Jonah could feel Francesca’s interest but was careful not to respond to it. He didn’t want to destroy the sense of intimacy that made Elaine feel safe enough to talk. “You can’t blame yourself for attempting to do a good deed.”
Once again she had to raise her glasses to wipe away tears. “I felt awful for her,” she said. “Julia wasn’t a bad person. She was just a kid. Too eager to have her own way, perhaps, like most teenagers. But she didn’t mean any harm.”
“So they became…intimate?”
“I guess so. Although I didn’t sense anything wrong, not until the argument.”
Jonah used the electric controls to slide his seat farther back. “What argument?”
“It was late at night. Butch and Paris had been drinking. I could hear it in their voices. Their shouts woke us up, but I tried to ignore the noise. It’s not my place to get involved in their marriage. Living in the same house, I have to be very careful to allow them their privacy. But then I heard screaming and knew something was terribly wrong. By the time I could get out of bed and up the stairs, Julia was lying on the cement outside the back door, bleeding from the head.”
“Was it Butch?”
“No.” She laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t risk Dean for Butch’s sake. It was Paris. She’d seen Butch pat Julia’s bottom and was certain they were having an affair. She confronted Julia and demanded she move out, but Julia had nowhere to go. She tried to reason with Paris, claimed she hadn’t been sleeping with Butch, but Paris couldn’t or wouldn’t believe it. The argument escalated, and Paris shoved her off the stoop. She landed on a piece of wood with a long nail protruding from it. I think it killed her instantly. She was dead when I reached her.”
This “accident” didn’t explain what had happened to April Bonner or the other victims, so there had to be more to the story, but Jonah played along. “And you didn’t call the police?”
“No. Paris was frantic they’d put her in prison, and I was afraid of that, too. She’d had a reason to hate Julia, and she’d pushed her.” She sniffed, folded her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead as she spoke. “I know how it sounds, but there was a little boy sleeping in the house, my grandson, who needs his mother. I—I couldn’t bring myself to turn her over to the authorities. I didn’t see any point in her going to prison for a death she didn’t mean to cause. I knew how much it would change her, how much it would change all our lives, especially Champ’s. And the accident was because of Butch as much as Paris, although he wouldn’t be the one punished for it. He shouldn’t have been cheating on her.” She shook her head. “That girl has been through so much.”
“Putting her body in the freezer was better?”
She settled her glasses more firmly on her nose. “We knew that Julia’s family weren’t likely to come looking for her. Even if they did, we knew they’d believe us if we said she left without telling us where she was going.”
“And your husband went along with this?”
“Of course. He agreed with me, even helped. He’s her father. He didn’t want to see her go to prison any more than I did.”
“Why didn’t you bury her?”
“We wanted to have easy access in case we ever lost the salvage yard to the bank—there’ve been some pretty lean years—and we had to move. We couldn’t leave that behind for someone else to discover.”
“Where was Dean when this occurred?” Francesca asked.
“Out. Like he usually is. Rambling. He didn’t know anything about it until he came across the body. And I’m guessing that just happened recently or I would’ve heard about it before. He thought Butch had killed her, so he put Julia’s panties, which he must’ve taken from her body at some point, in Butch’s truck for Paris to find. I think he was hoping to get rid of Butch. Butch has never been very nice to him.”
Francesca broke in for the first time. “Will Butch and Paris back up this story—about the accident?”
Elaine Wheeler’s voice cooled. “I have no idea. They’ll be angry that I put Paris at risk for Dean’s sake. For all Butch’s cheating, he loves Paris. But like I said, my husband was there that night. He’ll tell you what he saw.”
“What about Sherrilyn Gators, Mrs. Wheeler?” Jonah asked.
Sweat glistened on her scalp. Jonah was getting hot, too. He needed to start the car, but he didn’t want to interrupt the conversation.
“The police already asked about her,” she said. “Years ago. And I’ll tell you what I told them. The night Dean went to her house and got so upset? That wasn’t the last time they saw each other. A few days later, Sherrilyn showed up at the salvage yard in tears and told Dean she hadn’t been happy since they split up. She wanted to get back together, said they could work around his problems.” Her chest rose as she drew a deep breath. “She only wanted to be loved. Her son had no right to deny her that. Dean was absolutely devoted to her.”
Francesca angled her head to see around the seat. “So where did Sherrilyn go?”
Mrs. Wheeler didn’t act as though she wanted to talk to Francesca, although she answered. “She had some car trouble, but eventually went home. That’s all I know. Dean didn’t kill her. He might have his challenges, but he doesn’t have a violent bone in his body. That’s why I can’t sit back and let this happen. It’s not right.”
Mrs. Wheeler had confirmed what Dean had told them about Sherrilyn. “His drawings might suggest he at least fantasizes about violence,” Jonah said.
