Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 67

“Do they really need a reason?” I sighed. “Their only piece of evidence connecting us to the deaths at this point is that we started working for Jonah at around the same time the women started dying.”
“But we started working for him after they died! Well, except for this latest one.”
“I know. We’ll get this straightened out. I got you into this mess, and I’m going to get you out.”
I drove to the town square and pulled into a parking spot close to the courthouse.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce Wayne asked, his voice rising.
“I’m going to find Mason.”
“The assistant district attorney?”
I grabbed his hands and tugged. “Bruce Wayne, calm down. Panicking won’t fix this.”
“I can’t help it.” He started wheezing.
I believed it. Panicking had gotten him into his previous murder charges. If you overlooked the fact that he’d intended to rob the hardware store, it had been a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was noticing a pattern. “Mason is my friend. There’s no way he believes I had anything to do with this.”
“What about me?”
“Mason trusts my judgment. He told me so. If I trust you, then he will too.”
He nodded, swallowing. “But I still don’t want to go to the courthouse. It makes me itchy.” He began scratching at his neck.
I understood. As far as I knew the last time he’d been in a courthouse was for his trial. “How about you wait at Merilee’s? We’ll order you some coffee and a breakfast, and I’ll go talk to Mason and come back and get you.”
He nodded with tiny, nervous bobs. “Yeah. Okay.”
We went inside the restaurant and sat down at a table. “You go ahead and order whatever you want. I’ll pay for it.”
“You don’t have to do that, Miss Rose.”
I handed him the menu. “I know, but eating something might make you feel less lightheaded.”
He squinted at me. “How did you know I felt like that?”
Telling him I felt the same way wouldn’t exactly be confidence inspiring. “I just do. Stay right here, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Bruce Wayne nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“You can tell me when I come back.”
“No. I saw something.”
I rested my arms on the table and leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Saw something where? When?”
“At the church last week. I didn’t think anything of it until this morning.”
“What did you see?”
The waitress filled his empty coffee cup and took his order.
His hands shook as he tore the corner off a sugar packet and poured it into his cup.
“Bruce Wayne. What did you see?”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Nope. I don’t think I should tell you.” His hands lowered, and his eyes turned glassy. “They already think both of us are a part of this thing. If I tell you, they might use it against you.”
“No. We’re in this together. You can trust me.”
His looked down at the table, his eyes peeking out through scraggly hair. “You’re the one person I know I can trust, which is why I have to protect you.”
I sat back in my seat, running my hand through my hair in frustration before turning back to him. “Just tell me this: Were you at the church when you saw whatever you saw?”
He nodded.
At least that was something. “Would you tell Mason?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can go to the courthouse together—”
His eyes widened. “No! I ain’t goin’ in the courthouse!”
I held up my hands. “Okay. How about if he comes here? You have to give me something more to go on, though.”
“It’s about that kid that was at the church.”
“Thomas?”
“Yeah.” He patted his chest, then his jeans pockets. “I wish I had a cigarette.”
“When I come back, I’ll get you some.”
He didn’t look so sure about waiting, and I had serious qualms about leaving him alone. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse, planning to call Mason to see if he’d meet us. But when I tried to pull up his number, I discovered my phone was dead. It was my first cell phone, purchased just a few months ago, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the hang of remembering to charge it.
Bruce Wayne’s leg bounced up and down. “I can’t go back to jail, Rose. I just can’t.”
I covered Bruce Wayne’s hand with my own. “Nobody’s going to jail. I’ll go get Mason. He’ll take care of this. I promise. Wait for me here.”
As I left him in the diner, I hoped I’d find him there when I came back.
Chapter Twenty
Mason’s attractive young secretary didn’t look happy to see me. She glanced at me from the corner of her eyes, and then looked back at her computer screen. “He’s out.”
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
Her eyebrows rose, but she kept her attention on her computer. “No.”
“Is he in court?”
Her mouth puckered in disapproval. “I’m not at liberty to discuss Mr. Deveraux’s schedule. Perhaps you should call and make an appointment like everyone else.”