But there was an ounce of truth in any vision. The murderer might very well be a professor or employee of the university. The murders were a long time apart, but they did seem to follow the same pattern. It might help clear Martin's name to confirm that the same person murdered Rhonda and Penny. That would exonerate Martin entirely.

  I wish I knew what Rosenstein had told the police. I thought to call to discuss it with him. Therewas the chance his information was the missing link. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to get another person's input.

  Graduation was in ten hours. The information I needed was going to require some talented computer archives work. Luckily, I knew just the man for the job.

  CHAPTER 12

  Pulling on a thicker T-shirt, I padded out to the living room. Dusty leaned against the counter talking to Daddy who was cleaning the iron skillet. I reached out and tugged on Dusty's sleeve.

  "Good to see you up." Dusty lowered his eyebrows, "You need to get some breakfast."

  I gestured toward the glass door. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

  "Sure."

  Dusty closed the door behind us when we reached the patio. "What's up?"

  "Is Miles still working with you?"

  Dusty's made a scoffing noise. "Sure he is. Why?"

  "I need something checked out as quickly as possible."

  Dusty crossed his arms. "It's Saturday."

  "I know, Dusty. But I think I may be able to clear Martin's name. The problem is there are only ten hours until the graduation ceremonies."

  His eyebrows popped upward. "Dang, you don't ask for much."

  "Come on. If it were me, you would want Martin to do everything possible to help."

  "Lord, you can be a pain. I'll try to get in touch with Miles, but I'm not going to make any promises. It's not fair to put a time limit on research, and especially not when you're calling for it on a Saturday."

  "Thank you, Dusty. I really appreciate it."

  He held a hand up. "Thank me after we're able to help. Like I said, no promises. What are we researching?"

  I have an instinctive mind for litigation. I always cut directly to the root of the matter. "I need the Rhonda Riley and Penny Trickett case files. Rhonda did not commit suicide, someone killed her. I'm sure if we cross the names involved in her investigation with Penny Trickett's murder we will be able to identify the real killer."

  "Rhonda's case file might be sealed, and Penny's might only be partial at this point."

  "Are you telling me Miles can't do it?"

  Dusty screwed his face up as if to say I had lost my mind. "We're talking about Miles. He can access anything he wants. I'm just a little slow to follow how you've concluded Rhonda was murdered and then by the same person that killed Penny. Those seem like two huge leaping assumptions, and before I ask Miles to burn a day off, I would like to understand."

  "The two murders were committed by the same person. If Martin wasn't involved in Rhonda Riley's murder, then he wasn't involved in Penny's murder."

  "How do you know it was the same person?"

  I had hoped that Dusty wouldn't ask that question. Which was stupid of me. Of course, he'd ask that question.

  "I had a dream, and the killer was the same in both dreams."

  Dusty's blinked. "Really? Who is the killer?"

  I shook my head. "It was just a dream. Not a vision. But I know that in all probability if we can cross-reference the information between the two murders, we'll identify the killer. More importantly, we will be able to confirm that Martin never should've been arrested."

  "Too bad you haven't developed that skill. It sure would be useful right now if you could just visualize the killer's face."

  I sighed deeply. "Would've, could've, should've... So, sue me, I decided to become a lawyer instead. I know that's the utmost disappointment to you."

  Dusty laughed so hard his round cheeks blocked most of his eyes. "You're a hot mess, April."

  Like I hadn't heard that my entire life.

  We separated when we reentered my house. Dusty headed to my room as he pulled out his smartphone to call Miles, and I went into the kitchen to make small talk with the rest of the family and pick at the breakfast leftovers. Itwas a celebration in my honor after all.

  "Tammy isn't coming for graduation?" Mama asked.

  She was referring to my roommate for the last year and a half. Tammy still had another year in the nursing program.

  "No, ma'am. Tammy's fiancée took her camping this weekend."

  "Speaking of fiancées..."

  I didn't even bother to look in Daddy's direction. "Given that we already have one broken engagement and one divorce in the family, I think I'll wait and get it right."

  "Don't be dragging me into this. Besides, Barbara and I were never engaged." Chase refilled his coffee cup.

  "If you two weren't engaged, the only thing you were missing was a ring." I pointed out.

  Chase leaned against the counter. "It was missing a little bit more than a ring." He then blew into his mug. The conversation was over.

  "You want to elaborate on that?" I never tired of asking my brother about him and Barbara. One day he would have to tell me.

  "Nope."

  Granny changed the subject. Tell us about your new job."

  "You mean my dream job. Master, Lloyd, and Johnson is one of the largest firms in the Southeast. They only had two entry-level positions this year, and over six hundred candidates applied."

  "That's impressive," Nana kicked in.

  "I know, right? I mean, Lord knows I earned it by finishing in the top five percent of my class, but until you actually land the job offer, anything can happen."

  Daddy leaned back in his chair. "What sort of lawyers are they?"

  "It's more about their client base, Daddy. They handle the business and the personal business of hundreds of the entrepreneurs in the greater Atlanta area. Mergers, acquisitions, taxes, estate planning, and nondisclosure agreements--it's a discreet one-stop personal legal team for the movers and shakers of the Atlanta business world."

  "Sounds shaky, all right," Daddy groused.

  If nothing else, Daddy was consistent. With Uncle Howard just a few years away from retiring I knew Daddy held out hope that I might come back to Guntersville and take over Uncle Howard's office in the Podunk town I'd grown up in. I can't think of a bigger waste of my seven years of education I'd labored so hard for and mortgaged so much of my future earnings to afford.

  On the bright side, at least Daddy wanted me to live nearby. That was sweet, but not helpful.

  "I think it sounds exciting, Ralph." Granny put her son in his place.

  Mama sighed, "You knew from the time she could talk that she couldn't wait to get away from us, Ralph. I don't know why you think seven years from the house would change her mind."

  Mama had always taken me at my word. Unlike Daddy, she kept no unrealistic expectation I was coming home to Guntersville. Even though it was the truth, it sounded harsh the way Mama said it. I suspect she meant it to have a little bite to it.

  I huffed, "I'm not even going to be half a day's drive away."

  Mama pursed her lips. "No, but we'll all be busy. If we're lucky, we might see you at Christmas and Easter. At least until you get married and then you'll have to go to his parent's house."

  Nana leaned forward. "Viv, if you're going to be that ugly, she probably won't come home at all."

  "What?" Mama's eyebrows knitted. "It's not like I'm saying anything you don't already know."

  Granny cleared her throat. Once she had everyone's attention, she raised her coffee mug. "Here's to a successful career for my beautiful granddaughter."

  Everyone at the table, and Chase, still sulking over at the counter, raised their coffee mug in salute. An odd mixture of pride and sadness colored my emotions.

  To be a good hostess, I hung out with the family in the kitchen for another hour. Then I retreated to my bedroom to check on Dusty.

  Dusty was at my desk with his laptop open. His nose was only a foot from the screen.

  "How's it going?"

  His head jerked toward me. "Oh, hey. It's actually coming along a lot quicker than I anticipated."

  That was unexpected. I pulled up an extra chair to sit next to him. "The same suspect in both cases?"

  He shot me a sharp glance. "No. Martin is the only suspect of record with Penny's case. As far as the investigators are concerned, they have their man for that murder."

  Even though I feared that might be the case, it was devastating to hear it. Why wouldn't the police think Martin had done it? It was by no means uncommon for lovers to end a relationship in the worst way imaginable and one of her neighbors had accurately fingered Martin as the man lurking outside Penny's house the night she died. If I hadn't known what I know, I would have figured it was an open and shut case against Martin, too.

  "There was only one suspect of interest in the Rhonda Riley case. A Desmond Williams?"

  "Desmond Williams? He was a guy Rhonda had a serious crush on in her tennis class. I didn't even know he was a suspect."

  Dusty sighed. "He wasn't for long. The police were pretty determined to rule Rhonda's death as a suicide. But when a witness came forward about Desmond Williams, they did interview him. But Desmond didn't say anything that implicated him."

  Desmond and I had worked on the same charity fund drive my Junior year. It would be hard to imagine him as a killer even if he was angry. Then again, I could say the same about Martin.

  This was all interesting, and I was sure Miles had to pull some major strings to obtain it, especially on a Saturday. Not to be an ingrate, because I was grateful for the information, but I had no idea how this was going to help me free Martin.

  "I'm sorry I wasted your time. I just knew there was going to be some common thread between the two murders."

  "There is."

  "There is?"

  "Yes. The only thing is, I'm not sure what it means."

  I twirled my fingers impatiently to get Dusty to pick up the pace.

  "Both cases had one"—he held up a finger— “witness come in on their own and give information that incriminated the suspects. Six years apart but the same person provided testimony against Desmond and then Martin. Odd, right?"

  Maybe?

  Dusty continued. "Miles ran the name through a couple of the neighboring states' databases and bingo. He comes up as a registered sex offender in Arkansas. Something about sexually assaulting a drunk girl at a party when he was nineteen." He swiveled his chair to face me. "When he moved to Alabama, he never registered as a sex offender. Probably because he wouldn't have been able to get his job."

  Dusty drove me crazy with his longwinded stories. One of these days he'll cut directly to the chase on a question, and I'll think he is lying because he got to it too quickly. "Is he a pediatrician or an OB/GYN?"

  "No." Dusty laughed. "Nothing that dramatic. But he is a professor at the school. A Professor Rosenstein? Do you know him?"

  I staggered backward as if Dusty had slapped me, hard. My breathing was fast and shallow as the horror of the situation unfolded.

  What I had been struggling to remember for the last two days locked in crystal clear. The old visuals I had shoved deep into my mind. The awkward moment I wished to bury so deep I would never need to address it.

  I could have put an end to this. I could have kept the girls from harm. Shame and guilt weighed heavily on my conscience.

  At the start of my sophomore year. Rosenstein and I had been discussing my abilities as a litigator. Now that the memory had dislodged itself, I could see, hear, and smell the day as it took place.

  Friends might hear what happened and say, "How could you've known?" But I have never hidden behind vagaries. I guess I knew deep down inside, even though I didn't want to admit that something was wrong.

  The rest of Rosenstein's business law class had cleared out. I remained behind to talk to Rosenstein. I did this on a frequent basis.

  There was a report of a tornado sighting outside the Tuscaloosa city limits. The wind picked up dramatically outside as tornado sirens began to wail in the background. I knew I needed to find shelter soon.

  "We'd better get to the fallout shelter." As I watched the tree leaves fall eerily still.

  "I've got a better place for us to kill the next hour," Rosenstein said.

  An uncomfortable feeling wrapped around me as I parsed Rosenstein's comment. Time was of the essence, and you didn't mess around with tornadoes in Alabama unless you were dumb or had a death wish. "No, seriously, we need to go."

  Rosenstein grabbed my wrist. His grip was loose yet stung my arm as if twenty bees had inserted their stingers at the same time. My psychic senses had jumped forward despite my barriers.

  "Hey, buddy. Don't be getting all grabby with the merchandise." I tried to keep it light with the joke and allow him an easy out.

  "Come on. You know you want to." Rosenstein curled his lip.

  It was all I could do to restrain a nervous laugh. "Want to what?"

  Rosenstein gestured behind him. "I've got a cot in my break room."

  I shook his hand from my wrist and started for the classroom door. "Good for you, I suppose."

  Rosenstein cut me off and grabbed my upper arm. Again, the wasp bites stung. "I'm serious. It will be fun."

  I liked Rosenstein as a professor. But his antics, whether a joke or real, especially with imminent danger bearing down on us, enraged me. I pushed against his chest, and he stumbled back three full steps. "I don't know what your game is, but if you touch me again, I'm going to carve out your spleen and kidneys."

  Rosenstein studied me and then lowered his hands. "Geez, and here I took you for a girl who might enjoy a joke. I was kidding you know."

  I looked Rosenstein dead in the eye. "And I wasn't kidding. I'm pretty efficient at field dressing."

  That encounter was what I hadn't been able to remember earlier.

  It didn't surprise me that I had buried it. I'm not fond of things that I can't explain away. In this case, I'd buried it because of my respect for Rosenstein's teachings. While he might've had a jerk side, I had learned a tremendous amount of information from the man. He'd achieved a near-hero status for me.

  Not excusing myself, but it was hard to find fault with your heroes.

  "What's the matter with you, April?" The color in Dusty's face had leached out.

  I was ashamed to tell him. If it wasn't critical in helping Martin gain his freedom, I might not have. "This Rosenstein guy, he hit on me before Rhonda Riley and Penny Trickett. I just took it as an unwanted advance. I never thought it could lead to this nut job killing somebody."

  Dusty grabbed his smartphone and began to dial.

  "Who are you calling?"

  Dusty slid the phone to his ear and as he stared at me. "The police. Somebody needs to go pick this jerk up."

  I jumped out of my chair and tried to wrestle Dusty's smartphone from him.

  "What are you doing, April?"

  I could hear a voice on the other line. I stabbed my finger on the red button, and the line went dead. I glared at my brother. "What do you think you're doing?"

  His features pinched. "Watching my bat crazy sister take my phone from me. What should I be doing?"

  To be so smart, Dusty was so stupid. "Do you think they're going to release Martin because I come in there and start telling them about a stupid dream?"

  Dusty contemplated the question. "Well, it's true, so yeah."

  I shook my head vehemently. "When it comes to the law, you must prove things. We have to have facts."

  He lifted his notepad. "The same man identified two different men on suspicious deaths? Come on, April; police detectives are smarter than that. They just haven't noticed it yet."

  I drew in a long, steadying breath and tried to explain as if I were explaining to a third grader. "At this point, it's not considered corroborating evidence. It's simply coincidental facts unless we can get more information."

  Dusty rolled his hands out. "How the heck can we get anything more concrete in the time frame you're trying to hit?"

  "I have a plan, but I'll need both you and Chase helping me." waited until I had his full eye contact to pose my question. "Will you help me?"

  "I don't know, April. I'm all about helping a friend, but this is starting to sound dangerous."

  I shook my head. "Nope. It will go smoothly as long as everybody does what they need to do."

  CHAPTER 13

  We parked outside Rosenstein's house. He didn't appear to be home.

  A woman jogged by in a very tight running outfit. "I like that. What do you guys think?"

  Chase guffawed. "I'm not going to tell my kid sister what I think about that outfit. She'll tattle on me and then I'll have Mama kicking my butt."

  Rosenstein drove up in his black Camaro. We all watched as he entered his house.

  "Now what, mastermind?" Dusty teased.

  "I need a serious pretense for dropping by," I explained.

  "You could ask to borrow something?" Dusty offered.

  I rolled my eyes. "Dude, he's half a mile away from my house. He won't believe that."

  "Maybe he's the only person you know for half a mile?" Dusty tried again.

  "For Pete's sakes," Chase complained. "You said he was one of your favorite teachers. You're graduating. It wouldn't be unexpected for you to get him a bottle of wine and tell him how much you appreciate him. It's just what friendly people do."

  Dusty and I both stared at Chase in amazement.

  He arched his eyebrows. "What? It should work."

  "You're a freaking genius," Dusty praised.

  That was the thing about Chase. You assumed he wasn't paying attention to anything unless it was a hunting or sports magazine and then he dropped a bit of logic that was darn near brilliant. It always left you scratching your head wondering why you hadn't thought of it first.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11