A puzzled look came over her face, but she nodded.
”First off, I need to know about your relationship with Julie Hayes.”
”What about it?”
”Do you have any idea why she would tell the police that you and Erlene left the club right after Reverend Tester the night he was killed?”
”What? Julie said that?”
I reached into my briefcase, pulled out a copy of Julie’s statement, and set it down in front of Angel.
”This is a copy of the statement she gave to the TBI. Read it for yourself.”
Angel looked down at the statement for a few minutes and then back at me.
”Why would she say something like that?” she said.
”Good question. Why would she?”
”I don’t know.”
”Did you and Erlene leave the club right after Reverend Tester?”
”No.”
”Are you sure?”
”Yes.”
”Well, Julie says you did, and since she signed this statement, I’m sure she’ll testify at the trial. Is she mad at you about something?”
”I don’t think so.”
”Is she mad at Erlene about something?”
”I don’t know.”
”Was she jealous of the relationship between you and Erlene?”
”She never said anything to me about it.”
”Did you ever see Julie and Erlene argue or fight about anything?”
”No.”
”Did Erlene take you home that night?”
”Yes.”
”What kind of car was she driving?”
She hesitated. ”What?”
”What kind of car was Erlene driving that night?”
”I don’t know anything about cars.”
”Do you know what a Corvette looks like?”
”No.”
”Come on, Angel, it’s a sports car. Shiny and fast.
It would have been red.”
”I really don’t know anything about cars.”
”Was Erlene driving the same car the next day?”
She hesitated again and asked me to repeat the question.
”Erlene took you home with her the night Reverend Tester was killed, right?”
”Yes.”
”She gave you a ride home in her car, right?”
”Yes.”
”Did she have the same car the next day or a different car?”
”I don’t know. The same car, I guess.” She looked upward when she answered. I thought she might be lying, so I stayed with the subject of the car.
”Julie told the police Erlene was driving a red Corvette the night Tester was killed. She said Erlene got rid of it and was driving a different car the next day.
Is that true?”
”I don’t think so.”
I sighed. I wanted to believe her, but the vagueness of her answers wasn’t helping. I decided to press harder, so I raised my voice a notch and slammed my palm down on the table.
”Is that what you’re going to tell the prosecutor when he asks you the same question on the witness stand? Are you going to say ‘I don’t think so’? If that’s what you’re going to say, he’ll tear you apart.
Now give me a straight answer! Was Erlene driving a different car the next day or not?”
The sound of my hand on the table had startled her, and I could tell the tone of my voice was beginning to unnerve her.
”No. I think she was driving the same car.”
”You think? You think she was driving the same car? That’s not good enough, Angel. That’s an evasive answer. Juries don’t like evasive answers.”
”What should I say?”
”How about the truth? This is just between you and me. If you tell me Erlene was driving a different car the next day, I’m not going to run out and tell the police, and I’m not going to tell Erlene that you told me.”
She folded her arms across her chest and crossed her legs-the classic defensive position-and started rocking back and forth in her seat. She was obviously struggling with herself, trying to make some kind of decision.
”Miss Erlene didn’t kill anybody,” she said finally.
”I didn’t say she did.”
”That’s what you’re thinking. I can tell.” She was right. I was beginning to believe that Angel was protecting Erlene. If she was, it was a mistake that could cost her her life.
”Julie says Erlene switched cars the day after Tester was murdered. Julie says you and Erlene left the club right after Tester left. Now, either Julie’s lying, or you and Erlene are lying. If Julie’s lying, I need to know why. If you’re lying, I need to know why.
Now, who’s lying?”
”Julie’s lying.”
”Why?”
”I don’t know.”
”Then tell me about Erlene’s car. Did she switch cars the day after Tester was killed or not?”
”No.”
I was back to square one. Julie was lying and the only explanation I could offer a jury was that she was a drug addict, perhaps bitter, or perhaps jealous of the relationship between Erlene and Angel. I didn’t know whether a jury would buy it.
”You can uncross your arms now.”
”What?”
”People cross their arms when they feel like they’re being threatened or attacked, Angel. It’s a sign of defensiveness, and I don’t want you to do it if you ever get up on a witness stand. Now tell me about the bruise on your face. The one the police took a picture of.”
She hesitated again and unconsciously raised her fingers to her cheek. Her eyes began to blink quickly.
”I got hit by a door,” she said.
”When?”
”The day after, I think.”
”Where?”
”At the club. I was about to walk through the door and someone opened it from the other side. It hit me in the face.”
”Erlene told me you didn’t go back to the club after Tester was killed.”
”Oh, right, well, it must have been the day before, then.”
”The same day Tester was killed?”
She nodded.
”You’re sure?”
”Uh-huh.”
”Who was on the other side of the door?”
”I’m not sure.”
”You don’t remember who hit you with a door so hard it put a bruise on your face?”
”It was Heather. I remember now.”
Small beads of perspiration were forming on her forehead, and I decided to ease off. I wondered whether Heather would confirm that Angel had run into a door, and I made a note to have Diane Frye speak with her. Angel had self-consciously unfolded her arms and placed her hands on the table. I noticed they were discolored-not severely, but they were both slightly pale to about an inch above her wrist.
I remembered Erlene telling me to ask Angel about her hands. Very gently, I touched one of them.
”Did something happen here?” I said.
”I burned them when I was little.” The words were flat, monotone, and the expression on her face went completely blank.
”How?”
”I was making oatmeal for my brothers and sisters.” She paused for a long moment. ”And I. . I dropped the spoon into the pot … by accident.” She paused again.
”And?” I said.
”Mother Betty. She pushed my hands down into the oatmeal and made me get the spoon out.”
”Jesus, Angel. And your hands look like that from the burns?”
She nodded.
”How old were you?”
”I’m not sure. Maybe five. Or six.”
I shuddered. She’d described the event as if she were describing a walk down an empty hall in a burned-out building. She’d become distant, disconnected, as though she’d suddenly been unplugged.
”What about your adopted father? Did he do bad things to you, too?”
Another nod.
”Do you want to tell me about it?”
Tears were forming in her eyes. She didn’t answer the question. She didn’t have to.
”Did it happen a lot?”
She nodded again as a tear slid down her cheek.
”Angel, is there something you’re not telling me?”
She started to speak but stopped herself. I suddenly realized I was in a tug of war, and Angel was the rope. Someone else was pulling on the other end, and I suspected it was Erlene. She broke into tears and stood up, leaning against the table. Her shoulders began to shudder and her lips were quivering.