Page 97 of The Night the Lights Went Out
“But it wasn’t,” Merilee said again, her voice rising. “And Heather knew that. Do you think she forgot with all the stress over Dan’s death?”
Wade met Sugar’s gaze. “Merilee...”
She waved her hand at him. “I know, I know. I’m just trying to pretend that everything is normal and that I haven’t walked into this alternate universe where nothing is making sense.” She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again quickly, reading the rest of the list. Sugar watched as what little color on Merilee’s face disappeared. “No. No. This isn’t right...”
With shaking fingers, she handed the paper to Sugar, who could read the header without her magnifying glass but little else. She immediately gave it to Wade.
He read out loud. “One high-heeled purple Christian Louboutin—I have no idea how to pronounce that—woman’s evening shoe.” He frowned. “Sounds like the ones you wore to the gala. But I thought you lost your shoes at the party.”
“I did.” Her chest rose and fell like she was trying to suck in enough air to keep her alive. “The police found one of them on the dock, near where Daniel went into the water. The other one was missing. The detective told me that Daniel was hit on the back of the head with what looked like a stiletto heel and that’s what knocked him into the water. And he was too drunk...” She stopped. “But I wasn’t wearing those shoes when I came home. I know I wasn’t. Am I going crazy? I know I didn’t have that shoe.” Merilee was shaking so badly that Sugar felt the vibration through the swing.
“But the police would have to have had a reason to search for these things...” She stopped, her eyes widening with realization. “Sharlene Cavanaugh. When she came to tell me she couldn’t carpool with me anymore. She could have called, but now I’m thinking Heather must have sent her. To see if she could come up with a reason for the police to search my house. She must have seen the ring. I had it in the box on the hall table to remind me it needed to be returned to Heather.”
“And the shoe?” Wade asked.
“Whether she saw it or not, I didn’t put it in my house. I know that for sure.”
Sugar felt a tightening in her chest, a strange feeling that had come on suddenly a few days before and then decided to stay. Maybe it was her grief over Daniel, or rather her bottling up of her grief. Or maybe it was her heart breaking, having finally reached its capacity for loss. She took Merilee’s hand and held on.
Wade grabbed on to the swing’s rope to steady it, then squatted in front of Merilee. “You were wearing flip-flops when I brought you home that night—or early morning, I should say. And you had that tiny black purse that wouldn’t fit a shoe. I’ll go to the police and let them know that there’s a kink in their story. That should help. Or at least let them see that there’s something wrong about this whole thing. I’m sure they’re planning on interviewing me again, but I’ll beat them to it.”
Sugar pressed her lips together. “As Detective Olivia Benson would say onLaw & Order: SVU, Merilee, you’re being set up.”
Merilee jerked her hand away. “That’s ridiculous. I’m sorry, Sugar, but seriously. This is real life. That kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. And especially not in Sweet Apple.”
“You’re right,” Sugar agreed. “Detective Harrell said that the most common crime he deals with nowadays in Sweet Apple is identity theft. Maybe I should try that, see what it’s like to be a twenty-year-old again. Of course, I’d have to live through the years in between all over again, and I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”
Merilee sent her an angry look, making Sugar glad. Because anything was better than the helpless-victim persona Merilee appeared to be adjusting to a little too well. “But who would have put that shoe in my house? And why would Heather tell the police that I stole a ring when she knows that I didn’t?”
Both Sugar and Wade looked at her, waiting for her to answer her own question.
Merilee sat against the back of the swing, deflated. “Heather knew that I kept the key under the mat. She also knew all my passwords.” She put her head in her hands. “Oh, my gosh. She’s the one who told me to take off my shoes so I wouldn’t trip down the basement stairs.” She shook her head. “It’s like I made everything so easy for her. Practically helped her set up every single piece of evidence the police have to make me look like I had something to do with Dan’s death.” She jerked her head back. “Including a motive. Those pictures on Facebook.” Her eyes widened. “The whole Tybee house incident—all things Heather orchestrated to make the police think I was having an affair with Dan. Like I would ever do that to his family—or mine. Like my kids and I haven’t already gone through all the trauma of Michael’s infidelity.”
Wade rubbed her back, and Sugar watched as she tensed, imagining Merilee resisting the desire to lean on someone. She’d made that mistake before, and Sugar doubted she was eager to repeat it. Sugar wanted to let her know she understood but that sometimes you needed a friend to trust. Just as much as she knew that Merilee would have to figure that out on her own.
“She killed him, didn’t she?” Merilee said, her hands limp on her lap. “She killed Dan, that poor, sweet man. And now she’s trying to set me up to make me look like I did it. I’m so stupid. So incredibly stupid.”
“There has to be a reason, Merilee,” Wade said softly. “This is so out-of-this-world crazy that I can barely wrap my brain around it. Is there anything,anythingyou can think of why Heather would want to hurt you like this? Because if we can figure out her motive, we might have enough ammunition to point the finger of blame at the right person.”
She shrugged away from his touch and he dropped his hand. “I told you, I don’t know.” She sat back, her face miserable. “And why would Heather want to hurt Dan?”
Sugar snorted. “Money, plain and simple. In addition to the houses and business, I bet there’s a very hefty insurance policy, too. She married him for his money; I know that for sure. Remember how she used to call you after she was married, Wade? Even on her honeymoon.”
Merilee sent Wade an accusing look. Apparently they hadn’t yet reached the full-disclosure phase of their courtship.
“And I’m betting Merilee wasn’t randomly selected to take the fall,” Sugar continued. “I could call Heather all sorts of names, but stupid wouldn’t be one of them. My guess would be she somehow found out about that whole business with Merilee’s first husband and, being the horrible person she is, decided to use it.”
Merilee sucked in her breath, as if ice had just been poured down her back.
“I’m sorry, Merilee,” Wade said softly. “We can’t tiptoe around the sad facts of this case. There’s too much at stake.”
Sugar turned to Wade. “Who are Heather’s people? I know she’s from Georgia, but where was she raised? We never met her family during all those wedding parties, and I can’t seem to recall why.”
“She was born in Augusta. Her parents were in their late forties when she was born—she was an only child, but not the kind whose sudden appearance at their age was welcomed by her parents, according to Heather. They were killed in a car accident when she was in middle school, and she went to live with her aunt and uncle nearby. They were dirt poor, from what Heather implied, and I don’t think they welcomed another mouth to feed. I never met them—even after our engagement. They weren’t close, and I don’t think Heather had any contact with them after she graduated from high school and went on to Georgia State. I remember her telling me that she spent the school holidays with friends. Then she moved to Buckhead to associate with the types of people she thought worthy—her exact words—and worked for an interior design store until she married Dan.”
Merilee was slowly shaking her head, staring down at her hands. “None of that intersects with my own life. None of it. I have no idea how she might have found out about John.” She turned her hands over, palms up, as if she were begging. “I need to talk with Heather, confront her. Because she’s the only one who has the answers.”
Sugar actually wagged her finger at Merilee, something she’d been wanting to do for a long time. “That woman wouldn’t help you any more than a hawk would help a rabbit cross the road. You stay away from her or you’ll end up jumping from the frying pan and into the fire.”
