The next morning I walked to the little house Ruth and Thaddeus Black shared and found their mint-green Buick gone from the carport. I knocked anyway. Rustling sounded from inside, and finally the interior door swung open. Thaddeus peered out.
Recognition dawned. He pushed the screen door open. 'Sophie Mae! Come in, come in. Glad you dropped by. I'm not getting out as much as I used to, and it's nice to have a visitor'
'Hello, Thaddeus. Is Ruth around? I wanted to show her some yarn I spun last night.'
'Nope. Went to the store. That woman shops for groceries every day. I just don't understand it.' His cane thumped in exclamation.
'Oh' I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice.
'She'll be right back, though. Never takes her long. You come on in and wait.' He waved me in. The house smelled of fake lavender air freshener. I made a note to bring them some Winding Road gel fresheners, made with essential oils. Some nice soap, too, and bath salts. It was the least I could do to pay Ruth back for letting me borrow her wheel and teaching me so much.
Thaddeus trailed behind me into the living room. 'I heard what happened to that little truck of yours. You're a lucky girl.'
'Don't I know it.'
He nodded. 'Sit down for a minute.'
I sat. No good trying to get out of a little socializing, and besides, I liked Thaddeus Black.
'Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe?' he asked, the gracious host.
'I'm fine.'
He settled into his own chair and smiled broadly.
I smiled in return. 'How's Ruth holding up, with all the trauma and drama over at CRAC?'
'You mean that little girl getting herself killed?' He waved his hand dismissively. 'Ruth and I go to a couple of funerals a month.'
'This was a little different, wouldn't you say?'
'Well, sure. All I'm saying is that Ruth isn't exactly a wilting vine when it comes to the difficulties in life. She's gentle as a lamb, but tough as nails, too.'
'I'm glad she was able to provide an alibi for Chris Popper,' I said. 'It saved Chris a lot of grief.'
'Well now, I didn't realize she had. That was good of Ruth.'
Good of her? 'But she was over at Chris' house that night.'
He nodded. 'I remember. Some kind of meeting she had to go to.
'It was a meeting? I thought everyone was over there because it was the night before Scott's funeral.'
'Huh. Well, I thought Ruth said it was a meeting about something going on at the co-op. Maybe I got that wrong. And who knows why she hightailed it out of here later.'
I blinked. 'I'm talking about the night of the twenty-second. The night Ariel Skylark was killed.'
'I know which night you're talking about.' He spoke carefully, like maybe I was a little slow. 'Ruth went to her meeting at Chris, then she came home, and then she got that phone call and had to leave again. I was surprised, because it was almost nine o'clock, and she doesn't usually like to take the car out that late.'
'Now, Thaddeus, I don't want you to think I'm questioning your recollection, but what time did Ruth come home from Chris' that night?'
'Oh, couple minutes after eight, I'd say. I'd just started watching a show on the history channel. You ever watch that channel? A lot of interesting things you can learn from it.' He chuckled. 'Even if you're an old fart like me. 'Course some of what they call, 'history' I call, `childhood''
But I barely heard him, my brain was so busy trying to assimilate this new information. Ruth had lied, actually lied-to the police, to me, to everyone-about being at Chris Popper's during the time Ariel was killed.
Jake Beagle said he'd left before eight. That gave Felicia an alibi for the time of the murder, and providing her with an alibi meant he had one, too.
Irene said she was at Chris' until Zak got in trouble, and then she said she was at home, with him. Which gave him an alibi, but took away part of Chris' alibi. And now I'd just found out that Ruth couldn't give Chris an alibi, either.
The way I saw it, everyone supposedly had someone else who could account for them during the time Ariel was murdered-but no one really did.
'Sophie Mae?' Thaddeus leaned toward me with concern on his face.
'And you don't know why Ruth left the second time that night?' Tone it down, Sophie Mae. Way too eager.
Too late. Wariness settled across his face. He said, 'I think maybe I've said enough. Maybe I do have the night wrong. After all, Ruth already told the police everything she knows.'
Keeping my tone mild, I said. 'I'm sure she was very helpful. Did the police talk to you?'
He shook his head. 'Why would they? I didn't have anything to do with that whole business.' Using his cane as leverage, he stood.
I stood, too, understanding that my welcome was over. 'I have a few errands I need to run, Thaddeus. I enjoyed our chat. I'll drop by another time to show Ruth my yarn. Will you tell her thank you for me, for letting me borrow the wheel?'
'I sure will.' His voice was hearty, smoothing over any misunderstanding we might have had. The sound of an engine wafted in through the open front door. Thaddeus pointed. 'In fact, there she is. You can tell her yourself.'
I kissed him on the cheek. 'Thanks'
He smiled, at ease again.
Outside, I hurried around to the carport. 'Let me get that,' I said and lifted the grocery sack from the back seat before Ruth could protest.
'Why, thank you, dear.'
'Glad to help. I just came by to thank you again for letting me borrow your wheel, and I wanted to show you some of the yarn I spun.
'I'm always happy when someone converts.' She made spinning sound like a cult of some kind. Heck, maybe she was right.
I set the bag on the hood of the car. 'Um, Ruth?'
She had already started for the back door that led into the kitchen. Now she stopped and turned. Watched and waited.
'The night Ariel was killed? Where did you go when you left here the second time? After you got back from Chris'?'
For a few moments she considered me. Then she nodded and said, 'Let me put these groceries away, and then we'll go downtown and get a cup of coffee.'
'But-'
She turned and went inside.
Picking up the bag again, I followed her into the kitchen.
THIRTY
'I DIDN'T WANT TO talk about this in front of Thad,' Ruth said.
She sipped her iced latte and gazed at the Cadyville River. We were sitting on a park bench beside the river after stopping in at Beans R Us to get drinks. The afternoon sun was warm on our faces, and the sound of moving water had the usual soporific effect. I'd been patient, waiting until she was ready to tell me what had happened that night.
Now I prompted, 'You, Chris, Irene, and Jake met to discuss something to do with CRAC.'
Her eyes slewed my way, gauging what I already knew. Looking back at the sunlight sparkling on water, she nodded. 'Yes' Another sip of latte.
Carefully erasing judgment from my voice, I asked, 'You had a meeting about the co-op the night before Scott's funeral?'
'Yes.'
'Must have been something pretty important.'
'There was a problem that needed to be solved. We discussed it and decided what to do.'
'You're being very vague.' Frustration leaked out of my voice. I didn't like the way this conversation was going, didn't like it at all. Dread settled into my gut.
I hesitated, then pushed forward. 'What else happened that night? After the meeting.'
A long silence, and then a bracing breath. 'Jake left first. A few minutes later I left.'
Why, oh why, had Ruth provided a false alibi for Chris? With great effort I kept my mouth shut and let her continue.
'I went home,' she said.
'And then you left again.'
Slowly she nodded. But she didn't speak.
'Why, Ruth?'
Turning to look at me, she said, 'Because Chris needed me. She insisted she wanted to be alone, but shortly after I got home, she called. Wanted me to come back. Irene had been getting ready to leave, but then Chris broke down, and she agreed to stay for awhile longer. So I drove back to Chris' house, and we spent two more hours with her, talking some, but mostly listening as she talked about Scott.'
That wasn't so bad. I shook my head. 'You lied about being with Chris all evening. I don't want that to come back on you. Why did you do it?'
'Right off the bat, that Detective Lane decided Chris had killed Ariel. I knew she hadn't. Irene knew she hadn't. Any gap in our story, and that detective would have arrested that poor woman for something she didn't do.'
