Missing Pieces(41)



“Thanks.” Sarah handed Celia her purse and followed the deputy down the long hallway, her mind racing in a million different directions. What could Amy possibly have to say to her, and could she really be a murderer? She thought of the ring of bruises on Celia’s arm and knew that there were probably more. She thought of Margaret and her promise to get copies of the files from the murder of Jack’s mother. It was all too much. Focus, she ordered herself. One thing at a time.

The deputy led her down a short flight of stairs and down another corridor with walls painted an institutional green. Sarah wasn’t sure what she expected to see in a county jail, but figured that there would be jail cells and a phone where she could talk to Amy through a thick-paned window. She saw none of these.

“You can sit right here. I’ll go get Amy and you two can talk,” the deputy said, pushing open the door of a small conference room that held a scarred wooden table and two mismatching chairs. Sarah chose the seat facing the door.

There was no two-way mirror that someone on the other side could use to eavesdrop on a conversation, no security camera mounted to the wall recording her every move. So Amy hadn’t been arrested or officially charged with any crime. Yet. If she had been, there was no way that Sarah would be allowed to talk to Amy in such a casual, unsecured setting. Why would Amy still be here, then? She would be free to leave. It would seem, then, to Sarah, that Amy was cooperating fully with the sheriff, answering any questions that he had about Julia’s death. Would a guilty person do this? Sarah wondered. A guilty person trying to appear innocent might.

A few minutes later the deputy appeared in the doorway with Amy at her side. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything,” the deputy said, and then shut the door behind her, leaving Sarah and Amy alone. For a brief moment, Sarah wished she had chosen the seat nearest the door in case she needed a quick escape. Amy was, after all, the number-one suspect in a murder. And if the report she got a glimpse of was correct, a particularly ruthless one.

The woman standing in front of her, however, looked incapable of committing such a horrific crime. Thankfully, someone had allowed her to change into unsoiled clothes and wash the vomit from her hair. But still she looked brittle, as if she might shatter at any moment. Her skin was pallid, her lips a bloodless white. Her eyes had a haunted, hunted look.

“Amy, are you all right?” Sarah asked in alarm. “Sit down. Have you gotten any sleep? Anything to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Amy said hoarsely, and slowly lowered herself into the chair as if her bones ached. “Listen, Sarah.” She got right down to business. “I need your help.”

“My help?” Sarah narrowed her eyes in confusion. “I’m not sure how I...”

“They’re going to arrest me for killing Aunt Julia. I know they are.” Amy swallowed with effort and her eyes swam with tears. “But I didn’t do it. I swear to God, I didn’t.” Amy’s hands trembled and her fingers kept going to her pockets as if searching for something. A cigarette, Sarah figured.

“Do you have a lawyer? Is there someone I can call for you?”

Amy propped her elbows on the tabletop and lowered her face into her hands. “No, I don’t have a lawyer. I haven’t been charged. Yet. And there’s no way I can afford one.”

“I’m sure that Hal or Dean will help pay...” Sarah trailed off. Why would Hal or Dean pay for an attorney for Amy if they thought she had killed Julia? “Jack and I can help you,” she said before she could stop herself. What if Jack thought Amy was the one who hurt Julia? Would Jack really want to pay for a lawyer to defend the person who had killed the woman who was like a mother to him?

Amy lifted her head. “Dean and Hal won’t help me,” she said matter-of-factly. “And Dean won’t let Celia help me, either. I don’t want your money, even if Jack would be willing. He’s got his own ghosts to deal with. But I do need your help.” Her brown eyes were pleading and filled with what Sarah realized was fear. “I didn’t do this to Julia. I loved her. I think I may have loved her even more than my own mother. Julia’s been like a mother to me three times longer than my own mom.” The tears that had been gathering in Amy’s eyes finally spilled.

“What do you mean, Jack has his own ghosts?” Sarah asked, but Amy just shook her head and brushed away the moisture from her cheeks.

“The deputy will be coming back in soon. The sheriff will have a warrant for my arrest, I just know it. I don’t have much time. I didn’t do this. I didn’t kill Julia. That box with that thing in it...” A shiver of revulsion fluttered across her face. “That wasn’t mine. I’ve never seen it before.” Amy moved toward Sarah and lowered her voice to a breathy whisper. “I swear I didn’t do it, but I know who did.”

Sarah leaned toward Amy so that their noses were nearly touching. “Who?” Sarah asked, transfixed by the fear etched on Amy’s face.

“Dean brought a bunch of stuff over the other day. Just after Julia fell. Said they were things that once belonged to my mom. He stuck them in the corner with all the other boxes. He did it. I don’t know why, but Dean killed his mother and is trying to make it look like I did it.”

“Amy...” Sarah began doubtfully.

“Sarah, no one else will believe me.” She grabbed Sarah’s hands, her thin, bony fingers digging into her skin. “He did it. I know he did. He’s got a temper. He’s the only one who could have hit her and knocked her down the stairs like that and then blame me for it.” There was a knock at the conference room door, but Amy kept her eyes locked on Sarah’s. “You believe me, right? You’ll help me?”

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