“Does Susannah know about the pictures?”

“Yeah. She was there when I turned them over to Ciccotelli up in Philly.” Suze knew a lot about Simon, more than she’d told him, of that Daniel was certain.

“And?”

He looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you want to say more.”

“I can’t. I’m not sure I could even if I knew.” He thought about his sister, working long hours as a New York City assistant DA, living alone, with only her dog for company. He thought about the pictures and the pain on Gretchen French’s face.

It was the same pain he’d seen on Susannah’s when he’d asked her what Simon had done to her. She hadn’t been able to tell him, but Daniel was terrified that he already knew. He cleared his throat and focused on the matter at hand. “I’m thinking Gary Fulmore did not kill your sister.”

Alex regarded him levelly, no surprise on her face. “Why do you think that?”

“First, I believed his story. You said yourself, he’s serving a life sentence, so at this point how can we hurt him any more? What does he gain from lying now?”

“He’s hoping for a new trial.”

He heard the thread of panic in her voice and made his response as gentle as he could. “Alex, honey, I think he might deserve one. Listen to me. He said he hit her face, repeatedly. Try to think past the fact that this was Alicia and think about what you know. Be a nurse for me now. If Alicia had been alive, or even if he’d just killed her, and he’d hit her that viciously and repeatedly…”

“There would have been a lot of blood,” she murmured. “He would have been covered in her blood.”

“But he wasn’t. Wanda at the sheriff’s office told me there was blood on the cuffs of his pants. Alicia had been dead for a while by the time he hit her.”

“Maybe Wanda was wrong.” Her voice was desperate, and he realized Alex wanted Fulmore to be guilty. And he wondered why it was so important to her.

“I’ll never know,” he replied carefully. “All of the evidence is gone. The blanket, Fulmore’s clothes, the tire iron… all gone. I have to assume Wanda is right, until I can prove otherwise, and if Wanda is right, Alicia was already dead when Fulmore hit her.”

She moistened her lips. “He still could have killed her, waited, then come back to hit her face later.” But there was no conviction in her words. “But that doesn’t make sense, does it? If he killed her, he’d probably run, not come back, beat her, then wander into an autobody shop. What else is bothering you about his story?”

“Plenty. If her arm flopped like that-” Daniel stopped when he sensed a stillness come over her. “Alex, what is it?”

She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. “I don’t remember.”

“But it makes the screams come, right?” She nodded tightly and he brought her hand to his lips. “I’m sorry to make you go through this.”

“There was thunder,” she said unexpectedly. “That night. Thunder and lightning.”

It was bright again, all the time, Fulmore had said. It must have stormed before. He’d have to check. “It was April,” he said quietly. “Storms are common then.”

“I know. It was hot outside that day. It was hot that night.”

Daniel glanced at her, then back at the road where traffic was starting to snarl. “But you slept through the night that night,” he said very softly. “From the time you got home from school until the next morning when your mother woke you up. You were sick.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. When she spoke, her voice was cool. “If Alicia’s body was limp, rigor hadn’t set in. If he’s telling the truth, Alicia hadn’t been dead more than a few hours by that point.”

“You still think he’s lying.”

“Maybe. But if he didn’t kill her… Gary Fulmore’s been in prison a long time.”

“I know.” He tapped his steering wheel as traffic came to a complete halt, with him stuck in the far left lane. His meeting started in less than twenty minutes. He was going to be late again. He turned his mind from the traffic back to Gary Fulmore. “Fulmore has a damn good memory of that night for someone who was flying high on PCP.”

“Maybe he’s made that whole story up in his mind,” Alex said, her chin lifting. Then her shoulders slumped. “Or maybe he wasn’t on PCP at all.”

Which was one of the things that was bothering him the most. Frank Loomis had made that arrest, and too many things weren’t adding up. “Randy Mansfield said it took three men to take him down. That sounds like somebody on PCP.”

“But that was hours later. After they’d found Alicia.”

“Alex, what happened after they found Alicia? At your house? Among your family?”

She shuddered. “My mother had been calling everyone in town, all morning after she found Alicia’s bed empty.”

“Empty or un-slept-in?”

“Un-slept-in. They figured she’d snuck out some time the night before.”

“Did you share a room?”

Alex shook her head. “Not at that point. Alicia was still mad about the tattoo. She’d moved out of our room into Bailey’s room. I was getting the silent treatment.”

“How long had it been since your birthday, when you all got the tattoos?”

“A week. She’d been sixteen for only a week.”

So had you, baby. “Do you think Bailey knew she’d left the house that night?”

She moved her shoulders, not quite a shrug. “Bailey insisted she didn’t. But Bailey was wild then. She was good at lying on the fly to get out of trouble. So I don’t know. I remember still feeling sick, kind of…” She stilled again. “Kind of hung over.”

“Like you’d been drugged?”

“Maybe. But nobody ever asked me about it, because of what happened… later that night.” She closed her eyes on a grimace. “You know.”

When she’d overdosed on tranquilizers prescribed for her hysterical mother. “I know. How did you learn Alicia’s body had been found?”

“The Porter boys found her body and went running to Mrs. Monroe’s house for help. Mrs. Monroe knew Mama had been looking for Alicia, so she called her. My mother got there before the police.”

Daniel grimaced. “Your mother found her like that?”

Her swallow was audible. “Yes. Later they went to the morgue to… to identify her.”

“They?”

She nodded. “My mother.” She turned her face to look out the car window at the stopped traffic, her body tensing, her face ashen once more. “And Craig. When they came home, my mother was hysterical, crying, screaming… He gave her some pills.”

“Craig?”

“Yes. Then he went to work.”

“He went to work? After that? He left you all alone?”

“Yeah,” Alex said bitterly. “He was a real prince.”

“So he gave your mother some pills. Then what happened?”

“Mama was crying, so I climbed into bed with her and she went to sleep.” She was pale and trembling again. Traffic hadn’t moved an inch, so Daniel put the car in park and leaned over the gearshift to pull her close.

“And then what, honey?”

“Then I woke up and she wasn’t there. I heard her screaming and came down the stairs…” Abruptly she lunged from the seat and bolted from the car.

“Alex.” Daniel jumped from the car as she darted to the side of the road, where she fell to her knees, heaving. He knelt beside her, rubbing her back as she shuddered.

Motorists were watching, intrigued by the sudden excitement. One man rolled down his window. “Do you need help? I can call 911.”

Daniel knew that as soon as anyone recognized Alex, the cell phone cameras would come out, so he made his smile rueful. “Thanks, but no. Just a little morning sickness a little late in the day.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Can you stand?”

She nodded, her face clammy. “I’m sorry.”

“Sshh. Hush.” He put his arm around her waist and physically lifted her to her feet. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.” He looked up the road. “The nearest exit is three miles up the road. I could use my lights, but that’ll draw attention to us.”