Page 91 of The Night the Lights Went Out
She wondered if the hot, icy feeling rippling through her chest was a sign of a panic attack. Or a heart attack. She almost asked them how they knew that, but she didn’t. They were detectives. It was their job to dig. But why would they have focused on her? Because she was the one who’d found Dan’s body? Something nudged the inertia in her brain, something telling her that an important piece was missing from this puzzle, and she seemed to be the only one who didn’t know what it was. Or where it might fit.
“Yes,” she said. “But, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered, it was an accident. A horrible accident.”
“But charges were brought against you?”
A spark of anger elbowed aside a large slice of her fear. “Yes. And then dismissed. I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with Dr. Blackford’s death?”
The detective leaned nearer to her. “Your first husband drowned when you were the only person present. It just seems odd that a second man would drown in similar circumstances. And we understand your younger brother also drowned when you were a teenager.”
She put down the coffee. “They were all accidents. Horrible, awful accidents.”
The detective studied her for a long, silent moment. “The coroner’s final report has been kept out of the news, so it’s not common knowledge yet, but Dr. Blackford’s death does not appear to have been the accident that was originally assumed. Which is why we need to ask more questions of you, and other people at the party who might have witnessed events.”
“What ‘events’ are you talking about?” She was almost relieved at this point, because whatever else they had discovered could have nothing to do with her. She’d heard the dog barking and gone down to investigate and had found Dan. There was nothing more to her story.
Detective Kobylt pushed away from the wall and walked toward her. “Ms. Dunlap, were you and Dr. Blackford having an affair?”
“What?” She almost tipped her chair back as she attempted, and failed, to stand. “Excuse me? No. Of course not. We were friends. Why would you ask that?”
Again the two men exchanged looks. Detective Kobylt pulled out a chair and sat across the table from Merilee. “Didn’t you spend a weekend with Dr. Blackford at his family’s home on Tybee?”
Oh, God.“No. I mean, I was supposed to be there for the weekend, but he didn’t realize I was there...” She stopped, knowing there was no way she could go over what had actually happened that wouldn’t sound like one huge lie. “Heather—Mrs. Blackford—can explain all that. She’s the one who invited me to stay at the house.”
Without comment, Detective Kobylt slid a manila folder on the table toward himself and opened it, flipping through papers for at least a minute. Merilee wondered if it was a tactic to unnerve her, the sound of papers rustling in the dead silence of the room meant to shatter whatever sense of calm she might still have claimed.
Finally, he spoke. “You were on the gala committee, correct?”
“Yes. I was in charge of the auction items.”
He met her eyes. “And on the night of August eighteenth, you were late for the committee-head meeting because you were at the Blackfords’ house, where only Dr. Blackford was present. We understand that you claimed you thought the meeting was at the Blackfords’ house, even though all the other committee heads knew to go to the clubhouse.”
She took two deep breaths, remembering the calming technique shared with her by her old therapist. “Yes. I had it on my calendar that it was at Heather’s house. I must have misunderstood.”
“I see,” he said, nodding. “And when Dr. Blackford came to your place of work and kissed you, and when you received private phone calls from him while at your daughter’s cheerleading practice, those were just misunderstandings, too? Not to mention dozens of private texts to Dr. Blackford made from your phone.”
Merilee grasped the edge of the table. “I have no idea about the texts. I have no recollection ofevertexting or receiving a text from Dan. For anything. And as for the other incidents, there’s nothing to misunderstand. Those were perfectly innocent. Dan came to my place of work to ask for my help in buying an anniversary gift for his wife. The kiss was a friendly kiss—on my cheek. Again, if you’ll just ask Heather, she can clear up all this.”
Detective Kobylt studied her closely, watching every move on her face as he asked his next question. “I understand that Dr. Blackford paid for a ball gown for you. From a shop called Fruition. I’d never heard of it, so I had to do a little research. Apparently, you can’t buy anything in there for less than a thousand dollars.”
Merilee wondered if someone had turned up the heat, because all of a sudden she found herself sweating. “Oh, no. That was Heather. She must have used Dan’s credit card—he’d left his wallet in her purse.”
“So Mrs. Blackford purchased the gown for you?”
“Yes,” Merilee said, sitting back in her chair, knowing exactly how that sounded, just as she knew that any explanation would only sound like a lie.
Neither of the men said anything, and after trying to sit still and not make a sound, Merilee adjusted herself in her seat, bringing both their gazes to her. Detective Harrell stood and walked to the corner of the room, where a corrugated box sat on top of a row of filing cabinets. He brought it over to the table and opened the loosely sealed top before pulling out a plastic baggie and placing it in front of her.
“Do you recognize this?”
She peered through the clear plastic at the tube of lipstick. “It looks like the Revlon lipstick I usually use.”
“The color is Silhouette,” he said without looking at it. “Is that the shade you wear?”
She nodded. “Yes. And I think that might be the tube I let Heather borrow. I bought another one—I have it in my purse right now if you want to...”
“We found this in Dr. Blackford’s jacket pocket. And you’re saying Mrs. Blackford borrowed it from you?”
“Yes. If you would just ask her, it would save you a lot of trouble.”
