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I pushed out a deep sigh of admiration. “You’ve gone through a lot of effort here.”
“Of course. Like I said, I know your father didn’t do it.”
I stared at Dottie. Did she have a distorted view of reality, or was there a possibility that my father might be innocent?
“You know they already tested the DNA evidence,” Lia said. “It didn’t prove Eddie was innocent.”
I nodded, remembering my aunt and uncle talking about that.
“That DNA test didn’t mean anything,” Dottie said. “The samples from the crime scene were contaminated, so the results were inconclusive.”
Lia started to respond, but Dottie cut her off. “I realize that means my samples might be pointless, but that doesn’t change my mind about Eddie’s innocence. I know he’s innocent. I know without a single doubt that he didn’t do this.”
“How?” Lia said. “He had motive, no alibi, and he had a prior arrest.”
Dottie glanced at my father’s mug shot. “He was arrested for a nonviolent crime. It was a high school prank with his football team that got a little out of hand. He never served any jail time, and it didn’t deter the high school from hiring him as a teacher and coach.”
Lia thought about that for a minute. “Still, you don’t have any proof that he’s innocent.”
“I have proof.” Dottie pressed a clenched fist to her chest. “My proof is here in my heart.”
“You know that doesn’t count,” Lia said. “If he’s really innocent, there should be proof. Instead, there was a credible eyewitness who saw him.”
“Eyewitness testimony has been shown to be incredibly inaccurate, you know. Many wrongful convictions have eyewitnesses that got it wrong.”
Lia shook her head but said nothing.
I glanced back at the murder board. “You said you ruled out Wayne Montgomery?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you have any other suspects?” I felt like I was playing a detective on a TV show using the word suspects, but what other word was I supposed to use?
Dottie brightened. “Yes, this guy John—”
Lia held up her phone. “It’s my mom again. She’s called seven times. I didn’t realize I had my ringer off. We need to go, Brandy.”
“Okay, just a minute,” I said.
Lia marched toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Ignoring her, I turned to Dottie. “Do you mind if I take a picture of all this? My husband works for the DA’s office in Washington. Maybe... Maybe there’s something we can do to help.”
“Oh, sugar.” Dottie’s entire body relaxed. “Take all the pictures you’d like. I would love your help. And yours too, Lia.”
Lia said nothing as I took a picture of not only the entire board but each individual index card as well. If there was any chance Dottie was right, I had an obligation to follow through, didn’t I? Eddie Landis was my father, after all.
Of course, agreeing that Dottie was right meant believing that Aunt Ruthie had made a horrible mistake.
It also meant that I’d made one too by cutting my father off and changing my last name.
