To Catch a Killer(30)

At the mention of Miss Peters’s porch, I fade out a little. The images are still too fresh.

“All I had on me was the toothbrush, no bag or anything. I didn’t want to just—you know—leave it on the porch.” Journey glances at me. “It didn’t occur to me to put it in the mailbox. My brilliant idea was to use the drawstring from my hoodie and tie the toothbrush to her doorknob. But instead of taking my sweatshirt off, I tried to pull the string out while I was still wearing it. The hood got all closed and wrapped around my head. While I was dealing with that, I heard someone jump into my van and start to drive it away.”

I can tell by the way Spam and Lysa are paying attention that Journey’s goofy charm is having a good effect on them.

He acts out the next part. “I’m trying to rip off my hoodie and run after my van.”

I stifle a laugh at his depiction. He snaps a serious look in my direction.

“Hey. It wasn’t funny. I seriously had to chase my own van.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say.

“Anyway, I ran five blocks before I found it! Sitting in the middle of Pine Lookout. The driver’s door was open and the keys were on the hood.”

Spam frowns. “How weird is it for a car thief to leave both the van and the keys?”

“At the time I figured it was just someone punking the idiot who left his car running,” Journey says. “But after I found out about Miss P, the motive definitely seemed more sinister.”

“At this point he didn’t know anything was wrong with Miss P,” I say.

“Right,” Journey agrees. “After I got my van back I drove around a little looking for the creep who stole it. Usually when someone steals a car it’s because they don’t have one. I’m coming down the block when I see Erin walking up to Miss P’s mailbox. I was going to drive up and talk to her. Maybe she saw who took my van. But one second she’s walking up to the door and the next she’s on the ground, screaming.”

I hold up my hand. “Miss Peters was already—you know.” My eyes well up as I remember that awful sequence of events and how nothing I could have done would have changed things for her.

Journey pauses to take a sip of his drink. “I freaked out. I didn’t know what was going down but I didn’t want any part of it.” He glances over at me with an apologetic look and reaches out to swipe the veil of hair off of my face.

I’m so stunned at his hand coming toward me that I rear back, making me look kind of crazy. “Sorry,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear.

Journey shifts back to telling the story. “Anyway, I started to feel terrible for driving away. I mean, there was something obviously wrong with this poor girl. I had to go back and check on her.”

Holy cow. I didn’t even know this part. Journey’s charming description of coming back to rescue me is really sweet. A glance at the smiles on Spam and Lysa suggests they think so, too.

“Awww,” I say.

Journey looks a little guilty. “Well, I also realized that I had dropped my hoodie and the toothbrush somewhere in the yard. So, this time, I pulled around back and parked in the alley. I wanted a clear view of the street and yard. As I walked around the side toward the front, my hoodie and toothbrush were still in the grass where I had dropped them. When I bent over to pick them up, I triggered the motion light. The light popped on and I saw everything: Erin and Miss Peters covered in blood. I just ran. I didn’t notice the strip of fabric on the floor of my van until I got home.”

I raise my finger to interject again. “A strip of fabric that came from the shirt my mother was wearing when she was killed.”

“That’s impossible,” Spam says.

“I know,” I say. “But it’s true. I have that shirt, in the box at my house.”

“Why would the person who murdered your mom want to hurt Miss P?” Lysa asks, her voice thick with sadness.

They all look to me as if I have the answer. I wish.

“That’s what we have to figure out,” Journey says.

“What’s weird is how the tie binds you together,” Lysa says. “Without it you two wouldn’t have any connection at all.”

My stomach flip-flops. The situation sucks rocks, but having a connection to Journey is a definite plus. “We were there at the same time,” I say. “Which I’ll admit is also weird.”

“What’s the next move?” Spam asks.

“Right now we’re going to Journey’s house so I can thoroughly go through his van. I’ll be looking for fingerprints, hair, fibers, anything I can find.”

Spam squints. “Didn’t the police already do that?”

“They did,” Journey says. “But they were basically looking for evidence they could use against me. I’m counting on our little Sherlock here to find something they missed.”

He gently nudges my shoulder, sending my nerve endings into a frenzy. Is it my imagination or is he flirting with me? The table goes silent as they all look to me. Meanwhile, I’m geeking out over a stupid shoulder nudge.

“I … um, it looked like they only dusted the door handle and the steering wheel. I’m planning to go over it more carefully.”

“What do you want us to do?” Lysa asks.

“We need to pull together a view of everything Miss P was doing and everyone she talked to before she was killed. Spam, can you get her phone records?”