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“But you said you weren’t with the FBI.”
“Doesn’t matter, still can’t divulge anything, but you’re smart enough to read between the lines, right?”
She nervously drank her cocktail and didn’t answer right away. “If Hawkins didn’t do it, the real killer might still be out there? Any idea who he is?”
“He, or she?”
She gave him a withering look. “I have an alibi for when it happened.”
“Not my meaning. Lots of other ‘shes’ out there.”
“Wait a minute, what about Mitzi, what was her last name?”
“MitziGardiner.”
“Did she have alibis for the murders?”
“Not sure.”
“Well, don’t you think you should check that?”
“I’m sure Decker is all over that.”
“I remember from some of the testimony at the trial that she was an addict back then.”
“I think she had problems in that area, yeah.”
“So maybe she needed money for drugs and tried to rob them.”
“And Susan Richards?”
“Seems obvious. She killed herself because she killed Meryl Hawkins.”
He looked at her doubtfully.
“You don’t think so?” she said.
“From how Decker described her to me, Mitzi was a skinny drug addict mostly stoned out of her mind. No way she killed four people, including two grown men. Besides, her DNA and prints weren’t found at the scene.”
“But you said that could be fabricated.”
“It’s easier to add stuff to a crime scene than it is to take stuff away, especially prints and DNA. Taking stuff away, you miss one little thing, you’re screwed. Trust me, I speak from experience.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“Investigating a series of murders.”
“Do you think you’ll find out who did it, after all this time?”
“I bet once against Amos Decker. And I lost that bet.”
“Bad for you, then.”
“No, actually he saved my life.”
“Seriously?”
“As serious as it gets.” He rose. “Thanks for showing me the place. You got a real winner here.”
