direction, another reason for our love-hate relationship. Catherine seemed to come by all her style naturally, as well as her talent and good looks. Everything about her said “Winner,” and I had no real concerns for Brennan’s future now that it rested in her capable hands.
I said as much to Cory after she left.
He hung his head dejectedly. “I went to Brennan’s arraignment this morning. She got bail set for him, but he doesn’t have any more money. He wouldn’t take any from me, not that I have enough savings anyway. He just kept telling me not to worry. He’s banking on Catherine to win, too.”
“Maybe with Catherine’s investigator and the sheriff’s department asking questions now, Brennan will be cleared quickly. I think Elizabeth Potter makes a great suspect. She may have pushed James Gleason and tried to blame Brennan. Maybe Wayne figured that out and called her on it. Maybe he even saw her do it and that’s why he’s dead.”
“But why would she want to kill James Gleason?”
“I can only guess. Something to do with Monica or the accident? I don’t know.” And I hated that I didn’t, because I felt like I should. One of the people Cory and I had met was a killer.
“We’ll go crazy speculating. I’ll have to have faith in the investigators and Catherine for now.” Cory straightened in his chair. “Listen, I saw Mr. Phillips’ arraignment, too. I started to call you, but then I realized Ray was there. Did he call you?”
“No. We’re all barely speaking in our house. Danny’s heartbroken over his father’s arrest and what he sees as Ray’s betrayal. Ray’s defensive, and I’m caught in the middle and, quite honestly, sympathetic to Danny, which only makes Ray more cantankerous. I came to work today to try to keep my mind off it all.”
“Sorry I brought it up.” Cory stood and stretched. “You want to get some lunch?”
“Sure.” Maybe lunch would take my mind off Danny, Ray, and his father. I doubted it, because now all I could think about was whether or not we should pay for Mr. Phillips’ bail. Would Danny expect us to? After all, I’d promised more than once to help his dad. If we didn’t pay his bail, Danny would be visiting him in jail, a place a kid should never have to go, then possibly in prison afterward, a place no one ever wanted to go. If we did pay his bail, Mr. Phillips would most likely jump to avoid prison, perhaps taking Danny with him back into a life no child should lead. Of course, it was possible Mr. Phillips would want Danny to remain with us, but given the current tensions between Danny and Ray, Danny might not want to stay. Would Mr. Phillips yield to pressure from Danny? And why hadn’t Ray called me after Mr. Phillips arraignment? Was he surprised to see Catherine representing him? He must have known I would call her. She represented him the last time Ray arrested him in Wachobe. She got him off, too.
Then it hit me. As the arresting officer, Ray knew Mr. Phillips’ arraignment was this morning. He knew the judge would set bail for Mr. Phillips, yet he told Danny he would take him to see his father after practice today. So clearly Ray knew Mr. Phillips wouldn’t be able to make bail and had no intentions of paying it himself.
And he probably wouldn’t want me to, either.
TWENTY-THREE
I HAD SPAGHETTI SAUCE and pasta bubbling on the stove around seven o’clock, expecting Danny and Ray to walk through the door at any moment after Danny’s visit with Mr. Phillips. As I ran a knife through a loaf of Italian bread, the phone rang. Hoping to hear Ray’s voice, I tucked the phone under my chin and kept on slicing.
It was Erica. “We’re going to the funeral.”
“What funeral?”
“Wayne Engles.’”
I nicked my finger with the knife. A drop of blood blossomed on its tip. I grabbed a paper towel to wrap around it. “Why?”
“Maury and I found his body. We feel responsible for him. Maury’s going to bring a huge bouquet of roses. It’s good karma to see him to rest.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What’s wrong with roses?”
“Nothing.” Except Maury’s obsession with them, that is. I’d thought it only extended itself to presents for women, but apparently in his book, roses were appropriate for every occasion. “It’s not the roses. Wayne Engle was murdered, Erica, most likely by someone he knows well.