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And then Ulster had come home and sewn her back down?
Evelyn said, “I just feel like we’re missing something.”
Amanda didn’t want to feed the flame, but she had the same bad feeling. “Who else could’ve helped him?” she asked. “Trey Callahan was caught in Biloxi with his fiancée.” The man claimed that he’d only stolen the money from the mission in order to self-publish his book. “Obviously, Ulster was trying to frame Callahan with all that Ophelia stuff. Don’t you think if there was a second killer, then Ulster would’ve framed that person instead?”
“How about this: where’s the money coming from?”
Herman Centrello. Evelyn was determined to find out how James Ulster was paying for the best criminal defense lawyer in the Southeast.
Amanda shook her head. “Why does it matter? No lawyer in the world can get him out of this. Ulster was caught red-handed. His bloody fingerprints are on the knife.”
“He’ll skate on the other girls. We don’t have anything to tie him to Jane or Mary. We don’t have Kitty’s body—if it’s out there. Ulster could eventually get paroled. That’s why you need to hold on to that slide. Maybe the science will be ready for it by then.”
“He’ll be in his sixties. He’ll be too old to walk, let alone hurt anybody.”
Evelyn pushed open the exit door. “And we’ll be retired little grannies, living with our husbands in Florida, wondering why our children never call.”
Amanda wanted to hold on to that image. She wanted to think about it tonight when she tried to go to sleep and all she could see was that condescending look in Ulster’s eyes. He’d been laughing at her. He was holding something back, and he knew that it gave him power over everyone else.
Evelyn asked, “Did Kenny call you?”
Amanda let her blush be her answer. She adjusted her purse over her shoulder as they walked toward the station. There was a commotion going on by the front door. Two cops were wrangling with a wino. He already had a resisting-arrest turban. His hands waved wildly as he was jerked back by his collar.
Amanda said, “We actually wanted to come back to this.”
Evelyn looked at her watch. “Crap, we’re late for roll call.”
So much for their triumphant return. Luther Hodge would probably put them on desk duty all week. Amanda hated filing, but at least she’d have Evelyn to commiserate with. Maybe they could look at some of the cases on the missing black girls. There was no harm in putting together another construction paper puzzle.
“Hey!” The wino was still struggling as they walked to the entrance of the station. One of the patrolmen smacked him on the ear. The man’s head jerked like a sling.
The squad was as smoke-filled and dingy as usual. The room looked the same: crooked rows of tables crossing the room, white on one side, black on the other. Men in front, women in back. Hodge was at the podium. Everyone was seated for roll call.
But for some reason, they started to stand.
First, it was some of the white detectives, then slowly the blacks stood from their tables. It went around the room in a slow wave, ending with Vanessa Livingston, who, as usual, was sitting in the last row. She gave them both a thumbs-up. Her teeth showed in a proud grin.
Evelyn seemed momentarily stunned, but she kept her head high as she walked into the room. Amanda tried to do the same as she followed. The men cleared a path for them. No one spoke. They didn’t whistle. They didn’t make catcalls. Some of them nodded. Rick Landry was the only one who remained seated, but standing beside him was Butch Bonnie, who seemed to have some grudging respect in his eyes.
Then the moment was ruined as the wino was thrown into the squad room. He jumped up from the floor, screaming, “I’ll sue you motherfuckers!”
The room tensed. The drunk’s eyes widened as he realized he was facing down a room full of cops. He nervously glanced at Amanda, then Evelyn. “Uh … s’cuse the language, ladies.”
“Shee-it.” Butch took the toothpick out of his mouth. “They ain’t no ladies, fella. They’re the po-lice.”
The room heaved a collective sigh. Jokes were passed around. The drunk was wrangled out the door. Hodge banged the podium for silence.
Amanda fought the smile on her lips as she walked to the back of the room. She could feel Evelyn behind her, knew she was thinking the same thing.
Finally—acceptance.
thirty-two
Present Day
WEDNESDAY
Will sat on the wooden bench at the top of the rolling hill. He rested his elbows on his knees. He looked down at the street as the police cruiser pulled out of the driveway. His father a murderer. His uncle a murderer. Will had it on both sides.
Footsteps crunched across the gravel driveway. Amanda put her hand on his shoulder, but only to help herself sit.
They both stared into the empty street. Seconds turned into minutes. Will could hear a white noise in his ears. A humming that made it impossible for his brain to hold on to any one thought.
Amanda gave a heavy sigh. “Evelyn’s never going to let me live this down. She always thought there was someone else.”
“Is she going to testify against him?”
“Kitty?” Amanda shrugged with her good shoulder. “I doubt it. If she was going to talk, she would’ve done so years ago. I have a feeling she’s still too much under Henry’s control.” She gave a rueful laugh. “You’ve come a long way, baby.”
Will couldn’t pretend he was all right with all this. He couldn’t brush off tragedy with a wry comment the way Amanda did. “Tell me what happened. The truth.”
Amanda stared at the front lawn, the vast green space that was larger and better tended than most public parks. She obviously needed time to collect her thoughts. Honesty wasn’t a natural act for Amanda Wagner. Will could tell it took effort.
Finally, she said, “You know that there were two victims. Your mother and Jane Delray.”
“Right.” Will had found the reference in his father’s file. There wasn’t enough evidence to tie James Ulster to the murder of Jane Delray, but it was assumed that he was guilty of the act. “It was his pattern. He takes two and decides which one to keep.”
“There were two other girls. Mary Halston and Kitty Treadwell.”
Will gripped together his hands.
She said, “Your mother and Mary Halston showed the same damage. The sewing. The needle marks. But Jane was different. She wasn’t abducted. Her murder was spur-of-the-moment. She was strangled, then thrown from the roof so that her death would look like a suicide.”
“Henry?”
“I wasn’t sure until I saw that check. What I said was the absolute truth. It bothered Evelyn that Ulster had a high-priced lawyer. Frankly, it bothered me. Ulster was never interested in material things. He wanted control, and I guess making Hank mail him that check at the jail exerted some control.”
“Henry’s going to skate on the envelope. You know the check isn’t enough.”
“Henry’s DNA is going to match evidence from Jane Delray’s case. I called the gal who’s in charge of archival evidence the minute I heard your father was out. It’s a miracle the chain of custody was still intact, or we’d never be able to use it.”
