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13
While Dottie was definitely a little strange, I wasn’t worried about her hurting me. Besides, if she tried, I knew I could take her. Unlike Lia, I actually had achieved my black belt in karate.
Learning self-defense was one of the many things Aunt Ruthie taught us. She also made sure we learned how to secure the doors and windows before going to bed, the importance of carrying pepper spray in your purse, and how to fire a gun as a last resort.
Perhaps all that gave me a false sense of security as I followed Dottie up the stairs. And yet my gut said that I could trust her.
“This is a waste of time. We need to go,” Lia said.
I glanced over my shoulder, not at all surprised to see Lia behind me. She would never allow herself to be left out of something like this.
At the top of the stairs, Dottie pushed open the door and led us into a warm, sunlit room. “Here we are.”
“This is beautiful.” Glancing around, I admired all the windows that looked down on the green yard.
“It’s my favorite place.” Dottie gestured to one corner of the room. “Your mom had a sewing studio up here.”
“She did?”
Dottie nodded “Your father told me she loved sewing clothes for you and your dolls.”
I was suddenly struck by a memory so powerful I knew it was real. “She sewed a little yellow dress with blue flowers for me. Then she used the leftover fabric to sew a matching dress for my favorite doll. I remember.”
Dottie smiled. “That sounds like her. Cheryl was very creative. Eddie told me that her students loved her.”
“My mom was a teacher?”
“Yes. She taught home ec at the high school. That’s how she met your father. They were both teachers. Your father taught math and coached football.”
“I didn’t know that.” In truth, I barely knew anything about my parents. Not that I’d really asked Aunt Ruthie or Uncle Sal about them. I supposed I was too busy trying to fit in with everyone else to worry about where I came from.
“What’s this?” A hint of intrigue marked Lia’s voice as she pointed to some kind of display on the only solid wall in the room.
“I know it looks crazy,” Dottie began, “but this is my murder board.”
“Your what?” I asked.
Waving a dismissive hand, Dottie laughed. “My murder board. At least, that’s what Eddie calls it.”
Not knowing whether to be amused or horrified, I stepped closer to get a better look. In the center of the wall was a local map that contained several pushpins. Brightly colored yarn connected the pushpins to various index cards. On each index card was a mug shot along with handwritten notes.
The card containing my father’s mug shot was linked to a pushpin, several miles away from all the others.
Dottie sidled up beside me. “This is all the evidence I’ve collected to prove your father’s innocence. Seeing it spread out like this helps me process everything and make connections.”
“What kind of connections?” I asked.
“Connections that would prove he didn’t do it. I decided that I needed to find the person who actually committed the crime, so I made a list of everyone in the area who had a criminal background. Then I gathered DNA samples and information on each of them.”
I pointed to a picture with a big “X” across it. “This guy looks like my father.”
“That’s Wayne Montgomery. He was my number one suspect for a long time. I thought for sure it was him. He had a violent history and was living in the area. Then I requested a copy of the transcripts from the trial and learned that Wayne was in jail at the time of the murder.”
“What about my mom’s... well, the man my mom was seeing? Was he ever a suspect?”
Dottie shook her head. “No. He had back surgery the day before and was still in the hospital. His alibi checked out. I spoke with one of the nurses who took care of him.”
“Oh.”
