Everywhere She Turns by Debra Webb Read Free Book Online Page B

Ricky for her murder would kill two birds with one stone. They’re not going to bother looking for the real killer if they’ve got someone they can blame.”
    The old woman’s eyes narrowed behind her corrective lenses. “You mean like putting Ricky in jail takes him off the streets and then they don’t have to worry about him causing no more trouble?”
    “Yes, ma’am, that’s exactly what I mean. Shelley’s dead.”Emotion pounded against CJ’s sternum. “They figure she didn’t deserve any better than she got, so why not rid the city of another one like her?” She leaned forward, pressed the older woman with the certainty in her eyes. “They don’t care about us. They’d have torn this village down years ago when they demolished the mill if some hoity-toity historian hadn’t insisted the historic value had to be preserved. And all those promises of new jobs for all the laid-off mill workers were over and forgotten as soon as the new mayor was elected.”
    The rocking resumed. “Politicians always make promises and then they do nothing. Without the mill, some folks felt they had no choice but to turn to crime to survive. And not one thing was done to stop it.”
    CJ nodded, the movement stiff. “We can’t let the police get away with accusing an innocent man just so the mayor’s views on keeping the streets clean look good.” Her lips tightened with the lie. “I’ll go to the police with Ricky. My sister would want me to.”
    Frances stilled once more, her gaze engaging fully with CJ’s, searching for the sincerity in her eyes that she heard in her voice.
    Think! What now?
“Maybe if I could talk to Ricky, I could make him understand that the only way he’s going to get through this without serious trouble is if he lets the police know he didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Shelley. I feel certain he has an alibi. But it won’t do him any good if he doesn’t give it to the police. Running or hiding just makes him look guilty.” CJ reached out, patted the old lady’s hand. “You have my word I’ll go with him.” Damn straight she would. “I want the truth just as much as he does.”
    The silence boomed in CJ’s ears.
    Just tell me where he is!
    Frances Jennings tapped her fingertips together. “Those homeless folks still sleep under that Governor’s Drive overpass, you know. No matter how often the police shoo them away, they just come right back. The police don’t pay no real attention. The president himself could be right in the middle of that horde and nobody would notice.”
    CJ’s respiration came in tiny, fragmented bursts. “But they don’t usually come out until after dark.”
Where would he be now?
She needed to find him
now
.
    The old woman nodded again. “Yes’m. In the daytime they like to mill around in the park. With all the hippies and those no-account kids in black skulking about, the homeless just sort of blend in.”
    Of course. CJ should have thought of that.
    “I should be going. I have a lot to take care of.” She pushed to her feet, tried not to appear in too big a rush. “It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Jennings.”
    “You know when the funeral’ll be yet?”
    Pain radiated deep, squeezed CJ’s heart. “No, ma’am. Not yet. But I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as . . . the arrangements are made.” On second thought, she reached into her bag, scrounged up a piece of paper and pen. “I’ll give you my cell phone number. If you need me, just call.” She jotted down the number, then passed the paper to the older woman.
    Frances Jennings stared at the number. “I might just do that. You know my bursitis has been acting up lately.”
    “Call me and I’ll see what I can do.”
    Mrs. Jennings walked her to the door. The impulse to run across the porch and down the steps throbbed in CJ’s muscles, made keeping her stride steady and even next to impossible.
    The park. Of course he’d go to the park. Big Spring Park was always