Chapter Forty-Five

Mitch convinced me it would look better to a judge if I turned myself in should it become necessary to stand before one to ask to be released on bail; which is not a requirement when the accused is charged with murder.

I agreed to follow Mitch to the state police barracks, where it was highly likely I'd be charged with murder. If not today, then on another day in the very near future.

Allen was called from Mitch's farmhouse before our too short a drive to the police barracks. I never expected to find Allen home on a Saturday night. Especially now that he was a swinging bachelor again. But he was home; had been on the telephone trying to track down our daughter the entire evening. Or so I was told.

Once he recognized my voice, he thought I was calling with news of Alicia. When I told him I required his legal services, I'm sure I heard him drop the phone after he was told I was a suspect in the murder of Ethel Johnson. I could read his thoughts without even seeing his face. I just blew those political aspirations of his.

Only after I assured him I did not kill Ethel did he agree to meet me at the barracks outside of town. In the event I arrived there before he did, I was told to say nothing, answer no questions.

Mitch held the glass door for me to enter the one-story brick building first. He motioned for me to have a seat on one of the two plastic chairs in the dinky waiting area. I was too nervous to sit down. So I hovered behind Mitch as he stepped up to the glass window.

"How's it goin,' Fred?" Mitch said to the uniformed trooper on the other side of the glass.

"Be a lot better after next week. Come Friday, I'm hangin' it up like you did."

"Well, take it from me, this early retirement stuff ain't all it's cracked up to be."

That was news to me. I was under the impression Mitch loved his new role of little organic farmer.

"Is Lewis here?" I heard Mitch finally say after their brief exchange of catch up.

"Yeah, he's back there. But look out, he's in a real foul mood tonight. That murder case, you know."

I shrank behind Mitch after Fred's last words. I think I expected him to suddenly recognize me from a mug shot that was being circulated. Even though down deep inside me I knew that wasn't so. Or I didn't think it was.

Mitch led the way through the all wood door and down a dark dreary hallway with mostly closed doors lining both sides. The door at the end of the hall was opened. A male voice was shouting words I choose not to repeat. I watched Mitch throw up his hand in sort of a hello salute to the man standing behind a cluttered desk, cigarette hanging from his lips, as he hollered into the phone. When his eyes looked beyond Mitch to me, he hung up on whoever he was bawling out.

I was trembling before the giant went silent. When his voice came again, only much softer, my knees still knocked together.

"How's it goin,' Mitch," the giant said as he smashed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on his desk.

"Lewis," Mitch began, sliding an arm around me and nudging me out into the open, "this is Fay Cunningham. The lady your boys wanted to have a chat with."

After the longest second in my life of being scrutinized by a pair of unnerving dark eyes, I was given the complete title and name of this brute who wore a shirt and tie.

"I'm Lieutenant Lewis Evans, Mrs. Cunningham." A brief pause before, "Do you want to have a seat."

His words may have come in the form of a question, but they were said more in the way of an order.

Mitch cleared magazines from a metal folding chair for me to sit down on. I did, while the two men worked their way toward the only door out of the room. The big guy broke from whatever he was whispering to Mitch long enough to tell me they'd be right back.

They no sooner left me alone with my bundled up nerves, and Allen shot into the room.

"My God, Fay, how did this happen? You didn't tell them anything, did you?"

Anger was giving my nerves a temporary reprieve as I watched this man I once loved more than life, begin to prance around me like he did that day he told he wanted a divorce. Only this day, I wasn't an emotional wreck, crying my eyes out.

It must have been the mean way I was looking at him that brought him to his senses. Because before I could say a word, the prancing seized, and he cleared off a chair and collapsed on it.

"I'm sorry, Fay. You okay?"

"What do you think? I'm about to be charged with murder. But hey, I'm just Jim Dandy."

"I said I was sorry."

Our eyes exchanged these looks that said apology was accepted. Time to get on with the important business at hand.

"On the phone you said they searched the house. Did they find anything?"

"They pulled a red wig out of the garbage can."

"Jesus, Fay. Do you know what this means? I mean, all they got a do is match it with the hair found in Ethel's hand and..."

He was on his feet again, pacing in this small circle. His head was down, one hand on a hip. "You're gonna need a lawyer."

"That's why I called you."

"No. You're gonna need a criminal lawyer. I handle mostly deed transfers, wills, and divorces."

"I didn't kill her, Allen. The wig was put in my garbage by the real killer."

He stood still, his eyes wide as he looked down at me. That's when I noticed he missed a shirt button when he was dressing in his usual lawyer attire of suit and tie.

Mitch and his big buddy returned before I had the opportunity to tell Allen to fix his crooked shirt. Or to ask if it mattered the killer might be coming after me.

Handshakes were exchanged between Allen and Lewis, along with names and titles. Hands were not gripped and shook between Allen and Mitch. Each acknowledged the other with a quick, and forced nod. Then it came time for the serious stuff.

"Either you're gonna book her, or we're out of here," Allen said before Evans got all the way around his desk to the chair he was headed for.

"Your client came here voluntarily."

I could see Mitch was about to jump in, but since I was being talked about like I was not in the same room with the three of them, I thought it only fair I remind them.

"He's right, Allen. I came here to tell them I didn't kill Ethel Johnson," I said, looking directly up into the Lieutenant's intense eyes.

"And with that said, I guess I have to repeat my lawyer's words. You either charge me or I go home.