Free Gone to Ground by Brandilyn Collins Page B

husband a lot colder eye than she used to.
    At my kitchen table before I left for work I'd read Trent's latest news story on Erika's murder. He kept his word and didn't use my name, givin "anonymous" information bout Erika eatin brownies, and how the autopsy report backed that up. Erika was killed with the same "precise stab wound to the neck" that the other victims suffered. Course, I already knew that. What hit me hardest was the estimated time a the murder—somewhere between 11:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m. I had to stop readin for a minute when I saw that.
    Erika mighta died just one hour after I left her? What if I'd stayed longer?
    That guilty thought stuck to my insides like a big burr. I had to beg Jesus' help to pry it loose. Then it hit me. Maybe this is why the Lord put me in a position to solve this terrible crime. He was givin me a way to find justice for Erika.
    "Oh, Lord, help me do that." I gazed toward heaven. "And Ben, you keep close to Jesus up there the next few days. I'm gon need all the help I can get."
    Heart heavy, I left to start my work day.
    As I cleaned the McAllister house my thoughts kept churnin. What if Mayor B got rid a that evidence in his drawer before I could get to it? And on the night Erika died, did he leave his house just before 11:00, tellin Mrs. B he needed to go to the factory and check on somethin as the second shift ended? She wouldn't think anything bout it. Then after Erika was killed and the mayor said he was home at the time, Mrs. B just kept her mouth shut, never dreamin her husband coulda done it.
    If only I could talk to Mrs. B about Tuesday night. But I couldn't figure how to bring up the subject without puttin her on guard.
    At 11:30 I drug myself home and ate some leftover turnip greens. The pot liquor from the greens tasted mighty good on a piece a corn bread. Then I turned on my little laptop computer, a Christmas present from my son and daughter two years ago. Hardly used the thing. Now it would be my savin grace, along with the camera they got me the year before. Crazy notion my kids have, that I need such things. Maybe God was behind that too.
    Sittin at the kitchen table, I took a picture a my refrigerator, covered with photos a Donelle and Lester, and all the grandbabies. Then I pulled that cable connector thing out a the camera bag and stuck it in the computer. Now how in the world did I get the pictures from one place to the other? I stared at the camera and all its buttons.
    Ah. That dial right there.
    Up on the computer came a beautiful sight—the program to get the pictures. I fussed with it awhile, slowly goin through the steps. And lo and behold, I ended up with that lovely refrigerator photo on my computer. Saved and safe.
    Cherrie Mae, you ain't such a dummy.
    I leaned back in my padded kitchen chair and rubbed my top lip.
    Monday I could wear a pair a loose pants and drop the small camera in my pocket. The trick would be to get Mrs. B out a the house. Five minutes is all I'd need. But five minutes could be hard with Mrs. B. That woman had a mind a her own.
    Did she know her husband had left their house Tuesday night? Surely she did.
    I pushed to my feet and made for the phone to dial Cory, Pastor Ray's wife. As much as I didn't want to say nothin to anybody, I had no choice. At least Cory knew how to keep her mouth shut.
    She answered on the first ring.
    "Cory, it's Cherrie Mae."
    "You okay? It's the middle of a work day."
    "I'm on a lunch break. Listen, I wonder if you'll do me a little favor. Ain't this comin Monday mornin when our church weeds at the cemetery?" Our Baptist church and the Methodist church took turns the fourth Monday each month. Saved the town some money, and besides, we all wanted the graveyard lookin right. Everbody had at least one loved one buried there.
    "Yes, it's this Monday. I'll be there. With the warm weather now, there'll be lots of work to do."
    Thank You, Lord. "You know if I didn't work I'd be right there beside you."
    "I