Truth-Stained Lies (10 page)

She reached Michael’s office, saw that Holly’s cab was already there. She must have been in the area when Cathy called. Cathy was just pulling in herself.

Juliet blotted her eyes again and blew her nose, determined to step back into her role of the hope-giver and caretaker.

Her grief would have to wait.

M
ichael hadn’t expected all three sisters to show up at his place tonight, but he supposed it would be helpful. He sure couldn’t follow every trail by himself. He brought in folding chairs from a closet and set them in front of the dry erase boards he’d filled with his notes, then caught them up on Leonard Miller.

“Where did Miller go after the funeral?” Cathy asked.

“I lost him. Too many cars pulled out between us. He could be staying at his mother’s. I intend to find out and follow him as much as I can. If he buys drugs or sells them, I’ll nail him. If he jaywalks or speeds …”

“Why aren’t the police following him?” Juliet asked.

“Because they don’t have the manpower.”

“Neither do you,” Cathy pointed out.

“No, but I have a personal stake. And if he’s Annalee’s killer, this is our second chance to get justice.”

Cathy dropped her feet and studied him for a moment. “The thing is, I don’t want us to settle for him as the killer yet, because there are others who may have done it. If we focus just on him, then we may be as guilty as Max and Al, of seeing only one possibility and missing the other ones. I want Jay cleared, but I can’t figure out what motive Miller would have for killing Annalee and setting up Jay.”

“The motive was in his first letter,” Holly said. “He’s trying to turn the tables on you.”

“But using Annalee. That doesn’t make sense. And why would he risk that? He’s free. There are people who have a lot more reason to get even with me. He just has too much to lose.”

Michael pushed off from his desk, stood up, tapping his dry erase marker in his palm. “You’re right, Cathy. So I’ve been looking back through your blogs and researching everybody who lives within a three-hundred-mile radius of Panama City, everybody who is currently not incarcerated, everybody who might still hold a grudge serious enough to do something so radical. I came up with three men we haven’t thought of — Lex Andrews, Paul Winthrop, and William Moore.”

Juliet shook her head. “I don’t remember the details of those cases. What were they?”

Cathy drew in a long breath. “Moore was the guy who claimed his wife and children were murdered by intruders, and he was only shot in the arm. He refused to talk with or cooperate with police at all. And as I investigated him, I found that there were other mysterious deaths in his past. A former girlfriend who allegedly committed suicide, for one.”

Michael went behind his desk and opened the PowerPoint he’d made of the suspects. Moore’s face came up.

“Cathy’s investigating prompted police to look further into that death. They arrested Moore and charged him with the murders, but the jury acquitted him. He remarried three weeks later and now is living in south Georgia. Things came out pretty good for him, so he’d have nothing to gain by doing this.”

He showed them the next picture. “This guy — Lex Andrews — is five-ten, so he could fit the description. Worked as a contractor. He was suspected of killing his wife and embezzling from her father’s contracting business. When they didn’t have enough evidence to charge him with murder, they slammed him with the embezzlement charge. He served a year and is out now.”

“Good job, Michael,” Holly said. “I didn’t know he was out.”

He clicked to the next slide. “Paul Winthrop is the guy who lost his child when they were camping, and after a long search, the boy was found dead. The child was autistic.”

Cathy looked at her sisters. “I just thought it was odd that he only took the nine-year-old autistic child camping that night. Not any of the other children. He had two other boys, ten and twelve. Neighbors talked of their having a hard time with the autistic son. That he had raging temper tantrums, and they would hear him screaming at night. His parents had trouble controlling him and had tried to get help from all kinds of experts. My feeling was that the dad might have been at the end of his rope and decided on an easy way out.”

“Wow, that’s sad,” Juliet said.

“What happened to him?” Holly asked.

“He was acquitted too. The jury admitted in interviews that they thought he’d killed the child, but they couldn’t prove it beyond a reasonable doubt.”

“Winthrop lives in a small town near Mobile,” Michael added. “Close enough for a quick trip to Panama City.”

Cathy sighed. “I did think he was guilty, but I don’t think he’s mentally unstable or aggressively violent.”

“But because of your blogs,” Michael said, “lots of people still consider him a child killer. He could hold a grudge for that. It could eat at him … especially if he didn’t do it.”

“But it’s unlikely that he’d go after Annalee. If he wanted to kill somebody, wouldn’t it be me?”

Juliet dropped her face in her hands. “Cathy, what you do is so dangerous. You’re messing with murderers.”

“I’m helping victims get justice,” Cathy said. “I wasn’t afraid … until now.”

Michael knew her fear had nothing to do with herself. She was as brave as they came, maybe even stupidly so. But her eyes were open now that her own family had been harmed. Her sister-in-law … her brother.

“Any one of these men could fit the height and weight descriptions of the clown,” Holly said.

“So would Leonard Miller,” Juliet said.

“Yep.”

“If we’re going to be honest about it,” Cathy said, “the connection between my blog and Annalee is non-existent in all of these cases. Even if one of these wanted revenge, it’s such a stretch that they’d go after Annalee and Jay.”

“But anyone who knows you knows you’re close to your family,” Michael said. “Pinning a crime on one of your siblings so you can watch the judgment and speculation is not a reach.”

As they all took that in, Michael clicked to a catalogue picture of the clown suit. “Switching gears, I have good news. I’ve tracked down the clown suit.”

Cathy sucked in a breath. “You know where it is?”

“No, but I know where it was bought,” he said. “I found every store online that sold that suit, and got them to check to see if they’d had any orders sent to this area in the last few weeks. And I found one. Somebody named Doug Streep placed the order. Same approximate size, same exact suit. It was sent to a post office box at the Jenks Avenue post office.”

Cathy deflated. “A post office box? Did you look Streep up?” she asked.

“Yes. I found a few Doug Streeps, but none from this area. And nothing that connected them to any of you.”

“That box is right here, just a couple of miles away,” Holly said. “We need to watch it and see who comes to pick up the mail.”

“Well, that’s easier said than done,” Michael said. “I can’t be there 24/7. And if I’m tied up doing that, I can’t track down other leads and follow Leonard Miller. Plus, there’s the little matter of sleep and my arcane need to make a living.”

Cathy sighed. “I know, Michael. What you’ve done is way beyond the call of friendship.”

He bit back the urge to tell Cathy that he thought of her as family. “I’m fine. I’m not complaining. I was just thinking I need a whole staff of PIs to help me follow all these leads. But I can barely pay myself.”

“We could do it!” Holly said. “We could all moonlight as detectives. We work cheap!”

“What do you mean
we
?” Juliet asked.

“Don’t you want to help Jay?” Holly demanded.

Juliet grunted. “Yes, of course I do. But we aren’t trained private investigators. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Michael lifted his eyebrows as he considered the idea.

“Of course I would give you an orientation and a little training in what you can and can’t do. But mostly you’d help by staking out the post office, making phone calls about these other guys, tracking down information on the Internet …”

“So nothing dangerous,” Cathy told Juliet.

Juliet seemed to consider that for a long moment. “But we’re dealing with a cold-blooded killer. He may even be after Cathy … or us.”

“All the more reason to help find him.” Cathy set down her laptop and got up, facing her older sister. “Look, Juliet, finding him means getting Jay out of jail, getting Jackson back with his dad, maybe even in his own home … The police haven’t found where that suit was ordered. They don’t even believe there
was
a clown. All of these leads came from Michael. The police stopped at their first lead — and they don’t seem to be considering anything else.”

“I gave Max the info I have,” Michael said. “But you know my brother. Who knows if he’ll follow up? He thinks I’m just prejudiced because Jay’s my friend.”

Michael watched the emotions morphing across Juliet’s face. Fear, doubt, anger … maybe this was too much to ask of her.

“So all we’d be doing right now is watching the post office? Making phone calls? Doing benign things like that?” Juliet asked.

“Yes,” Michael said. “I’m not going to send you into harm’s way. But we are trying to find the killer, so I can’t promise you total safety. But I couldn’t promise that, even if you don’t help. If you want to help, do what you can when you can. If you don’t feel comfortable, that’s fine.”

“Count me in,” Holly said. “It’s a step up from taxi driver. Part-time Private Eye. I’m stoked! I can do some of it while I’m on the clock, between calls. You’ve been wishing
I’d make something of myself, Juliet. Maybe this is my chance.”

Juliet sighed, then threw up her hands. “Okay, I’ll do it while the boys are at school, if it’ll help Jay.”

Holly sprang out of her chair. “Woo-hoo! I’m a PI! A detective! I need some disguises. A moustache. A hat. A wig!”

Michael grinned. “You won’t need any of those, Holly.”

“Just know that I’m willing if the need comes up.”

“She’s joking about the wig,” Juliet said, “but with those pink streaks in her hair, she’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”

“I’ll put it up and wear a hat. I was thinking of bleaching out the pink anyway.”

Juliet shook her head, “Holly, what are you gonna do if you catch this guy? You’re five-five and 120 pounds.”

“I wouldn’t try to tackle him,” Holly said. “I’d just be able to identify him if he was one of these guys.”

“And then what?”

Michael sat on his desk. “Then she could let me know, and I’d take it from there.”

“And that brings us to another thing,” Juliet said. “What are you going to do, taking it from there? You’re not allowed to even carry a gun.”

Michael bristled. “Why do people keep reminding me of that? You think it slipped my mind?”

Juliet shrugged. “No, I know you didn’t. But I’m just pointing out —”

“I’ll get the police involved if it comes to that. Don’t worry, Juliet. I know what I’m doing.”

“I can carry a gun,” Cathy said. “I have a concealed we ap on permit.”

“I can carry one too,” Holly said. “So can you, Juliet.”

“What are we, Charlie’s Angels?”

“No,” Holly said with a proud grin. “Michael’s Angels. Jay’s Angels. Annalee’s Angels.
Jackson’s
Angels.”

Michael could see that Juliet was still conflicted, but Holly’s words clearly pushed through the fear in her heart.

Cathy had opened her laptop and seemed lost in what she was reading. Michael turned to her. “Cathy, I understand if you’d rather use your time and resources in another way,” he said. “Juliet and Holly will help me a ton.”

“No,” Cathy said, shutting her laptop. “I’m in. I told Jay I would help solve this murder, and I will. The sooner we get him out, the sooner he’ll have Jackson back. The sooner this family can start healing.”

“Yes!” Holly said. “Finally I don’t have to wince when I tell people what I do.”

“You’re still a cab driver,” Juliet muttered.

“Yeah, but that’s not all I am.”

Michael couldn’t help smiling. The part-time, unpaid job would give Holly purpose. Something she desperately needed. Since he’d known her, she’d had a series of jobs she hated. He was glad to see the rare life in her eyes. Good for her.

“We can start orientation right now,” he said.

J
uliet didn’t sleep that night, and the next morning she felt like a robot getting the kids off to school. Her thoughts continually went back to Jackson. Had he slept last night? Had anyone said his prayers and tucked him in? Had they gotten him up on time and fed him a decent breakfast before school? Dressed him in clothes that he liked?

As she was cleaning the kitchen after breakfast, it occurred to her that there was a way to find out. While her visit to the Haughton house hadn’t given her any information about Jackson’s state of mind, she could go see him at school. She’d been active in the PTA since her children were in kindergarten, so she had a logical reason to be on the campus. She was also listed as one of the emergency contacts in case Jackson ever got sick at school, so no one could keep her from talking to him.

She forced herself into the shower and got dressed as
she would on any other day. She didn’t have business at the school today; there was no homeroom party, no teacher appreciation day. But if she went up there anyway, no one would know she wasn’t invited.

She pulled into the school parking lot, parked where she usually did when she did volunteer work there. Carrying an empty manila envelope, she went in, smiled at the principal who was walking to his office.

“Hi, Mr. Sanders,” she said.

“Juliet,” he said, hesitating in the hall. “I heard about your sister-in-law’s death. I’m so sorry.”

So word was getting out. Abe had probably told them. “Yeah, it’s tragic.”

“I hope they’re not putting you to work today.”

She sighed. “I just came to talk to somebody.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for your family.”

Did he know that it was her brother in jail for the murder? Had her son blurted that out too?

She dropped her head as she walked past him. She didn’t want her children to have to suffer for the biases against their family.

She walked down the kindergarten hallway and went to Jackson’s class, knocked lightly. Jackson’s teacher, Mrs. Bernard, turned to her and smiled. She knew Juliet well, because she’d been the homeroom mother the year Abe was in kindergarten.

“Hi, Juliet. How are you?” Her soft tone indicated she was aware of Annalee’s death.

“I’m okay. Just wanted to check on Jackson.” She scanned the room and her gaze landed on his empty desk. “He’s not here today?”

Mrs. Bernard crossed the room and stepped out into
the hallway. “No, he’s not here,” she said in a low voice. “I heard about his mom. I’m so sorry. His dad’s probably keeping him home today.”

Juliet didn’t want to correct her. Disappointed, she went back out to her car and sat behind the wheel. She melted into tears as she said a prayer for her little nephew, that he was being well cared for and that he wasn’t upset, that someone was seeing to his needs.

Meanwhile, Juliet would talk to people who worked with Annalee’s latest boyfriend. Max had told Michael he had an ironclad alibi, but she wanted to see for herself. They couldn’t leave any loose threads in this investigation. Her brother’s future depended on them.