payday to get both items,” I tell her. “How much was the dress?”
She chews her lip in thought for a moment, then says, “Tell you what. How about I give you a half-price deal?”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “You mean thirty bucks for both of them?”
She nods.
“That’s a deal,” I tell her. I pay her and walk out to the car feeling pretty chipper. Today must be my lucky day. But as I drive to the office, something about the whole transaction bothers me. It was easy, maybe too easy.
I take the dress into the office with me and give it back to Cass, thanking her for letting me borrow it. Then I head for Arnie’s lab.
Izzy is already there and he waves me in as soon as he sees me. “Come on in. You’re going to love this, I think.”
Arnie is sitting at his desk holding a small plastic plate about the size of a playing card. On top of the card are a series of circles, each one with a red dot in it. “Check it out,” he says, handing me the card. I look at it and see that it’s a blood typing test. “I’ve spent all week wading through those two-hundred-plus blood samples we collected from Shannon’s house,” he says. “And every one of them has tested out as Shannon’s blood type.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, confused as to why this news would interest me.
“Shannon’s blood type is A positive but that sample you have in your hand is B negative, which is a very rare type.”
“It’s not Shannon’s blood?”
Arnie grins and shakes his head.
“Where was it found?”
“I pulled it off of one of the glass shards we found in the kitchen.”
“So it’s most likely the killer’s blood?”
“Yep. And here’s the part you’re really going to like,” Arnie adds, his grin getting bigger. “Erik Tolliver’s blood type is O positive.”
My eyes grow wide.
“And since we can assume the owner of this blood was injured by the glass, it might rule Erik out even more if there were no cuts of any kind found on him when he was arrested.”
My heart is leaping with joy; this really is turning out to be my lucky day.
“Have you told anyone else about this yet?” I ask.
“Not yet,” Izzy says. “I was going to call Hurley but I thought you’d want to be here when I deliver the news.”
“Damn right I do,” I say, smiling and rubbing my hands together with glee. “One free dinner coming up, compliments of Hurley. I can hardly wait.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Izzy cautions. “It isn’t a full exoneration yet, just a lot of very reasonable doubt. Arnie is going to send the blood sample to Madison for a DNA test and that might give us even more ammunition.”
“Might?”
Arnie says, “Well, it was a small sample to begin with and there isn’t very much of it left so I’m not sure if they’ll be able to get a full profile.”
“Still, the blood type alone is something, isn’t it?” I ask.
“It is,” Izzy agrees.
“Can I tell Lucien about this?”
Izzy shrugs and looks at Arnie, who shrugs back. “I don’t see why not,” Izzy says. “Why don’t you call him and I’ll get a hold of Hurley.”
I nod eagerly, realizing that for once in my life I’m actually looking forward to talking to Lucien. I take out my cell phone and dial his number, but it flips over to his voice mail. Rather than trying to explain everything on the phone, I leave a brief message to let him know we have discovered some key evidence in the case and ask him to call me back.
Izzy has already finished his call by the time I hang up. “Hurley will be here momentarily,” he announces.
I’m excited to hear this, not only because I’m eager to let Hurley know my faith in Erik’s innocence was valid, but because it means getting to see him again. I can’t wait to pick up where we left off and I figure any time spent near him enhances the chances of that happening.
I dash to the restroom to do some primping in preparation, and pop a breath mint just in case I might get lucky. By the time I come out, I hear Hurley’s voice outside Izzy’s office and hurry toward it.
As I round the corner high with anticipation, I stop dead in my tracks. Just as I’d hoped, there stands Hurley in the doorway of Izzy’s office. But standing beside him, looking doe-eyed, dewy-fresh, and lovely, is Alison Miller.
Chapter 39
Alison looks at me standing in the hallway and smiles. “Hello, Mattie.”
Hurley looks too, and I struggle to keep my expression impassive and not let on how badly I want to scratch Alison’s eyes out.
“Alison, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“I was with Stevie when Izzy called. I was interviewing him about the Heinrich case.” She hooks her arm around Hurley’s and leans into him. “When I heard there was something new in Shannon’s case, Stevie here was kind enough to let me tag along.”
Hurley turns back toward Izzy, forcing Alison to let go of his arm. If she feels at all slighted by his action, she doesn’t show it. “So what have you got for me?” Hurley asks.
Izzy fills him in on the blood evidence and then asks if Erik Tolliver had any injuries on his body when he was arrested.
Hurley, who is frowning, shakes his head. “Not a scratch,” he admits. He turns to look at me again and the smile he bestows on me makes my irritation with Alison evaporate. “Damn, Winston. It looks like you might have been right about Erik Tolliver after all.”
Seeing my chance to put Alison in her place, I smile back and say, “So I guess that means dinner is on you, correct?”
“Looks like it,” Hurley says.
Alison’s smile disappears faster than a Whack-A-Mole. “Dinner?” she squawks. “What dinner?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” I tell her with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Just a little bet Hurley and I had going.” I look back at Hurley and smile sweetly. “I’m thinking lobster rather than steak.”
“Ouch,” he says, smiling in a way that lets me know he doesn’t find the idea at all painful. He starts to say something more when his phone rings. He answers it, frowning as he listens. “Okay,” he says into the phone. “I’ll be right there.”
He hangs up looking chagrined. “I have to go. I’ll catch you guys later.”
Alison falls into step beside him. “Where are we going?” she asks.
Hurley pauses and holds a hand up to stop her. “I’m done for today, Alison. We can finish this up some other time, okay?”
Alison pouts and starts to say something back at him but Hurley doesn’t give her a chance. In seconds, he’s gone. Alison looks so stricken that for a brief second I feel sorry for her. But then she turns, gives me a flippant little smile, and says, “I guess I’ll just have to hook up with him again later.” Then she flounces out of the room in Hurley’s wake.
I spend the rest of the afternoon in an exceptionally good mood. Between the new evidence exonerating Erik and my pending dinner with Hurley, even sitting in the library and reading up on all the horrible ways people have found to kill one another doesn’t dampen my spirits. Nor does the prospect of talking to Lucien when he returns my
