“So that makes it okay to kill somebody?”
Derek shook his head and his mouth twisted to one side. “You saw the kind of man Lewis Wallace was.”
Milo was already shaking his head. “That doesn’t make it right.”
Ethan jumped out of his chair. It fell backward, hitting the floor. “Kathleen, this is crazy,” he shouted. His hands were everywhere. “You know Derek didn’t kill anyone. Some guy you know gave him an alibi.”
Derek looked up at me. “I don’t understand that part. When Marcus came and said someone had given me an alibi, I couldn’t figure it out. Who did he see?”
“He saw you,” I said. My hands were shaking. “He just got the time wrong. Ian Queen’s battery was dead on his phone. His old truck didn’t have a clock—or a working radio. When he walked into his mother’s house he looked at the clock for the time. The thing is, Patricia is one of those nitpicky people. It was the night we switched to daylight savings time. Right after supper she changed every clock in her house. When Ian looked at the time—”
“—it was wrong,” Derek finished.
“Yes.”
He sighed. “I was going to confess. I swear to you that I was and then Marcus walked in and said some guy had given me an alibi and I thought maybe it was some way that the universe was evening things up and I just . . . I just kept my mouth shut.”
I nodded. I could understand that.
Derek shrugged. “You know, the funny thing is, I didn’t even know where Lewis was. Then I got one of those stupid alumni newsletters they sent out. They must have gotten my address from my mother. It had this section where they say what people are doing now.”
“And you found out that Wallace was doing pretty well.”
“Yeah. He cheated and they were writing about him like he was some big deal. At first, I was just going to out him, tell the truth. But I figured, who was going to believe me over him? So I thought, why not get something for myself, for my kid?”
“That night at the bar, he called you Christmas.”
He nodded. “He gave me that stupid nickname the first time we met. Even though we agreed we weren’t going to let on we knew each other he said it, out of habit, he claimed.”
Owen shifted in my arms and I stroked his soft gray fur. “How did you know Wallace was at the hotel and how did you know where the meeting room was?” I asked.
“It was the nicest hotel in town. Where else would he stay? As for the meeting room, Ethan had sent me a text about getting the muffins for your friend Maggie and putting them in the meeting room so you wouldn’t find out.”
I heard Ethan make a strangled oath.
“He said he’d just walked through the lobby and no one had stopped him. I knew Lewis had always had problems getting to sleep and would probably be up. I was going to go up to his room but there he was, wandering around the hallways. I pulled him into the meeting room to talk, popped the lock the same way Milo had shown me once.”
He looked at Milo. “Sorry, man,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.
I set Owen on the floor, giving Hercules a quick scratch on the head as I straightened up. I folded my arms across my chest. The room suddenly seemed colder. Or maybe it was just me.
“He wouldn’t help me,” Derek said in a voice laced with bitterness. “I told him I’d tell everyone that he paid me to lie and say I stole those test answers. He said no one would believe me.”
It occurred to me that was probably true.
“He said he’d help me some other way but he couldn’t let the truth come out, not now. I knew what that meant. I wasn’t taking another payoff. He grabbed one of those muffins and . . . I didn’t stop him. In fact, I smashed it into his fat mouth. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“You took his EpiPen away from him.”
“He dropped it on the floor.” Derek looked away.
“You kicked it across the room,” I said.
“Not to kill him!”
“Well what did you think was going to happen?” Milo asked.
Derek looked from me to Milo. “He owed me. Don’t you get it? I just wanted what he owed me.”
“Do you remember Dwayne Parker?” I asked.
Derek frowned. “Dwayne? Wait a sec, you mean Chunk?”
I nodded. “He works at Saint Edwin’s. Wallace called him. Asked him to go see your son play.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Wallace said he was going to help you and he did. Saint Edwin’s is probably going to offer Liam a scholarship. You got what you wanted, what you seem to think you were owed. You didn’t need to kill him.”
The door opened then and Marcus stepped into the kitchen. I’d called him before I’d come downstairs. He started to read Derek his rights. I walked into the living room. I knew what was coming and I didn’t want to watch that part.
chapter 17
Marcus left with Derek, and Ethan walked out of the house without saying a word. Milo gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go after him,” he said.
I curled up on one of the chairs with Owen and Hercules together on my lap until Roma walked in and wrapped her arms around me.
We were at the table talking over cups of tea, with Hercules on my lap and Owen at my feet checking out the crackers Roma had given him, when Ethan walked in. He came to a skidding stop just inside the kitchen door.
I got to my feet, setting Hercules on the seat of the chair. I went to my little brother, wrapping my arms around him just the way Roma had done with me.
“I’m sorry for running off,” he said against my shoulder.
“It’s okay,” I said, hugging him even harder.
Ethan and Milo joined us at the table. Milo extended his hand to Roma and said, “Milo.”
She took it, smiling. “Roma.”
Ethan had questions and I tried to answer them without drowning him in information.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, raking both hands back through his hair. “I know Derek could be self-absorbed sometimes and intense, but I can’t believe he’d kill someone.”
I nodded. “I know. And I’m sorry this happened.”
“Are you kidding?” Ethan asked. “Derek was here because of me. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me.”
“That’s crazy,” I said. “None of this is your fault. You’re not to blame for any of this.”
Ethan reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Then you’re not, either,” he said.
The get-together at Roma’s was canceled. I spent Friday evening with Ethan, just the two of us.
“You guys need some alone time,” Milo had said.
The two of them left the next morning to pick up Devon. “I think the true-love thing may be fading,” Milo said with a laugh. I stood next to the van and hugged my brother hard.
“I love you,” he said, giving me an equally fierce squeeze.
“I love you, too, brat,” I said.
He grinned as he let me go. “Tell Maggie I said good-bye.”
“I will,” I promised. I fixed his hair. “Stay out of trouble.”
They pulled out of the driveway and I waved until I couldn’t see the van anymore.
The library closed at one o’clock on Thursday to get ready for the grand opening of the quilt show. I went home to change and grab a quick bite and when I stepped back inside at quarter after six it struck me that the building had never looked so full of color and life. The quilts were everywhere I looked. Big ones. Small ones. Rectangular, square and round. They were more than fabric, batting and thread. They were art; beautiful, detailed pieces of art.
Oren was standing by the circulation desk looking up at one of Patricia’s vintage quilts suspended from the ceiling. He was wearing a charcoal-gray suit with a white shirt and blue striped tie. He looked very nice, and a little uncomfortable. I walked over to join him.