But what choice do I have? I want her past August. She apparently wants me only for the interim. There is no place for me in her life unless she makes a place. Or I somehow make it hard for her to live without me. If I make the sex so good she won’t be able to live without it or me. Three hours away isn’t that far. People make cross-country relationships work all the time.

I smile at Zelda, pushing back all those thoughts. There’s another way I can make myself necessary to Cora—help her free her brother.

I leaf through the notebook I brought with me, looking for the entry about Mrs. Wheeler. It holds all the notes I’ve taken on Beau’s case and supports my story of a student studying a local case. Zelda’s curious about it. I catch her trying to read it upside down.

I start with easy get-to-know-you questions. I’m good at getting women to feel at ease with me. Before I know it Zelda’s opening up about a lot of other things.

“I didn’t believe Beau could’ve done it at first. I mean, what was done to her was so brutal.” Looking away, she sips at her coffee. “But the evidence was overwhelming.”

“The case file is one of the thickest I’ve ever seen. I’ve been going over some of the witness testimony, including yours. I’m sorry you had to go through that and I’m sorry you lost your friend.”

“Thanks. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“How long did you know each other?”

“A couple of years. When the apartment across the hall from me came available I called Cassandra right away. I knew she wanted to move close to campus. She wanted to be on her own, have the whole college experience, even if she was only moving across town. Her parents were very strict. I think she also wanted to get out from under that.”

“She liked having her own place?”

“Oh, yes. She even got a cat.” Her brow creases. “I wonder what ever happened to him. Maybe her parents took him in.”

“Going over the case, I noticed your downstairs neighbor”—I flip through my notebook for show—“Edith Wheeler didn’t testify in the trial. I tried to track her down, but I couldn’t find anything on her.”

“Oh, gosh. She probably died. I mean, she was old back then.”

“I couldn’t find any record of her death. I’m trying to put together as complete a profile as possible. You wouldn’t know how I could maybe find her, would you?”

She bunches up her forehead. “She had a cousin who used to visit.”

“She passed a few years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Did you try her husband’s niece? She used to work at an old-folks’ home up north somewhere. Mrs. Wheeler was always joking about how if she ever went up there they’d probably roll her into a snowdrift and forget about her until spring. She liked the beach. I couldn’t see her moving to a landlocked state, but you never know.”

“Do you remember the niece’s name?”

“Gosh.” She rubs her forehead. “I want to say it’s something like Roberta or Robin. She had a different last name too. I think it started with a D, but I’m not sure. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Mrs. Wheeler. I moved out right after Cassandra’s death. I couldn’t stand to live there anymore.”

She’s given us the first real lead on Mrs. Wheeler. I want to split and go check it out, but that would totally blow my cover. Instead, I ask her more questions about the case. Who knows? Something else might pop. She’s the closest person to Cassandra that we’ve been able to talk to and she was a key witness in the trial.

“Did you know Damien LeFeaux?” I ask. “He claimed to have seen Beau leave Cassandra’s apartment right after the murder.”

“No. I saw him for the first time at the trial. There was something not quite right about his testimony though.”

“In what way?”

“He said that he walked down Fletcher toward Seventh and turned right on Wardlow and that’s when he saw Beau. Fletcher dead-ends into Wardlow. He couldn’t have walked down Fletcher from that direction. Unless he meant that he walked away from Seventh Street and turned left onto Wardlow.

“It was obvious that he was a drug user. I imagine he just got confused. I don’t know. No one mentioned anything about it during the trial—not even Beau’s defense attorney.”

“You’re sure that’s what he said?”

“Yeah. I lived there for over a year. They didn’t bring Fletcher through until about two years ago, so unless he time traveled…”

“That’s a big discrepancy.”

“That’s what I thought. But then they had Beau’s DNA and him admitting to the police that he was there that night, so I didn’t say anything. I figured it didn’t matter if Beau really did it.”

“You really think he killed Cassandra?”

She grows thoughtful. I expected her to answer right away. Her hesitation makes me think the trial wasn’t the slam-dunk everyone thought it was.

“I didn’t at first. Or at least I didn’t want to. I knew how much they loved each other, but then they broke up and everything was so strange after that. When they arrested him I just couldn’t see it. I mean, what happened to her was so…brutal.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I knew Beau. He had to have had a major psychotic break to do something like that. It was just so sick.” I hand her a napkin and she dabs at her eyes. “She suffered so much.”

She starts bawling then. I glance across the room at Cora. She motions for me to reach out and take Zelda’s hand. I do, muttering apologies and words of sympathy. After a few moments Zelda gets herself together enough to speak again.

“No,” she answers. “I don’t think Beau could’ve done that to Cassandra.”

We talk a little more, but I don’t learn anything else new from her. That info about LeFeaux’s testimony could be the break we need with my dad going out to visit him tomorrow. Any leverage we can get we can use to discredit him. I’ve got to double-check the trial transcript against a map of the neighborhood just to be sure. I don’t want Dad going in there with incorrect information.

I walk Zelda to her car. “Thanks for meeting me. You’ve been a big help.”

“It was nice to talk about it with someone. Most people just want to sensationalize the gruesome parts. Cassandra was my friend. She deserves more than to be reduced to a notorious headline.”

Nodding, I take out my wallet and hand her two twenties. “I know you’re going through a tough time.”

She hesitates, then accepts it. “Thanks. Normally, I wouldn’t take the help, but…”

“We all need help every now and then. You helped me.”

As I watch her drive away, Cora joins me. “I saw that. That was very nice of you.”

I shrug.

“Did she tell you anything useful?”

“And then some. We need to go back to the office. I want to check on something Zelda said about the trial and I think I might know where Mrs. Wheeler is.”

“What did she tell you?”

“I’ll fill you in on the way.”

We climb into the car and take off. There’s a buzz running through me, making my skin itch. This is it. I can feel it. This is the lead we’ve been looking for. I can tell Cora feels it too. She’s animated in a way I’ve never seen her, gesturing with her hands and moving nonstop. I’m glad I got to be the one to give her this moment.

We finally arrive at the office. It’s dark, darker than normal. I look up at the sky, wondering if the clouds are covering the moon, and realize that the lights in the parking lot are all out.

Cora must’ve noticed that something was off too, because she doesn’t move to the stairs right away like she usually would. She stands by the open car door, her head cocked to one side like she’s listening. I’m listening too and scanning the building and the empty parking lot. Nothing moves. Our gazes catch across the top of the car. I put my finger to my lips. She nods and reaches into the car, shutting the interior light off. I wish I’d thought to do that.

I pull the gun Dad gave me from between the seats and motion for Cora to stay where she is. Creeping toward the stairs, I listen hard for any odd noises. A hand grips the waistband of my jeans and I nearly jump. Damn Cora didn’t stay put. I glare at her. She glares back. I should’ve known she wouldn’t listen. I motion for her to stay quiet. She rolls her eyes at me like “no duh.” Damn stubborn woman.