case and we’ll guarantee to help you out later.’ It’s almost like a plea bargain.”
“Can they do that, legally?” Dawn asked me.
“Like any government run organization, they have the power to slow down requests, lose requests or simply ignore them, if they believe their case was justified and they got a conviction fair and square,” I said.
“No one likes to admit they got it wrong,” Debra added, making eye contact with Dawn, then me.
“How do you know you’re not the one who’s wrong?” Dawn asked point blank.
The question temporarily stumped Debra. Either she was stunned by the very notion or still didn’t have a clear answer in her head. Thus far she hadn’t given us any hard facts to back her claim. I was expecting an explosion of emotions like she’d demonstrated earlier in the front room and during the tour, yet she remained calm.
“Because a mother knows,” she said softly. “Are either of you parents?” We shook our heads. “When you two have children, you’ll immediately feel a bond stronger than anything you’ve ever experienced. Kids are the ultimate game changer and not only in the way they take up your free time. They transform you as much as you try to shape them. You can’t have one without the other.” She paused. “Unlike Lucy, Eric wasn’t my flesh and bones but he might as well have been, even with all his faults.”
“Did you know they were having marital problems before Eric came home that night?” Dawn asked gently.
I almost didn’t hear her answer as I tried to wrap my head around the concept of having children with Dawn.
That’s never going to happen, right big fella?
“Lucy told me she had her suspicions about Eric. He was working late and being stand-offish around her. Little things she couldn’t prove.”
“Did she ever come right out and ask him?” I questioned.
“Not that I know of,” Debra said. “She would’ve told me.”
“Debra, is it possible she did ask him during breakfast or over the phone the day she was killed?” Dawn asked.
“Anything is possible.” Debra appeared to be worn down by our questions. Glancing at her watch, she said, “I’ve taken up enough of your time.” She withdrew money from her purse, placed it on the table and stood. “I do appreciate our talk. After all these years, I think Eric’s only hope is that the real killer is arrested, probably during a routine traffic stop, and confesses.”
Even then, with Eric already convicted, the killer could delay things by saying Eric had hired him in the first place, I thought.
Dawn and I stood to say our farewells. “Do you still have those private investigator reports?” I asked, my competitive juices beginning to simmer.
“I do. I have an entire banker’s box filled with trial evidence and news clippings. Everything related to the case.”
“Would you mind sending me copies of the reports? Again, maybe I’ll see something you haven’t. You know, read between the lines using my past experience to guide me.” An expression of hopefulness flashed on Debra’s face. “I can’t make any promises.”
Without hesitation, Lucy McDowell’s grieving mother asked for our home address. “I’ll send them tomorrow morning.”
I shook Debra’s hand and Dawn gave her a warm hug.
“Hope is all I have left and you’ve provided me with some today,” Debra said, fighting back tears. “You can’t imagine how glad I am for your help.” She stepped forward and gave me a hug before leaving the store, saying goodbye to Dara as she did.
Dara re-entered the kitchen with a grin on her face. “I don’t know what you two said, but I haven’t seen her smile like that for a very long time.”
“Steve’s a private investigator and offered to look over the evidence against Eric,” Dawn said.
“That explains everything. Do you think you can help her?”
“I made no guarantees. Either way, good or bad, a fresh set of eyes is always a positive thing,” I answered. “Plus, I have no connection to the original investigation or the police force.”
We helped Dara clean off our table and left a short time later.
“I got a new book and you picked up a new file,” Dawn said taking my hand as we hit the boardwalk. “We need to visit Book A Lunch more often.”
“Wonderful. Our new vacation destination is the murder capital of the region,” I said. “As for Debra, she freaks out last night and we get a free souvenir. Today she freaks out and we get a free lunch. Is it just me or do I seem to attract only crazy women these days, present company excluded, of course?”
“Of course.”
“And until I see what she has stored away, I’m not counting on this being a new file, per se.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. I know you,” Dawn said boldly. “Once Debra said two other investigators hadn’t found any new evidence, your brain started working overtime. I swear I heard the hamster wheel in your head begin to squeak into motion.”
“If you must know, that hamster is always on the move,” I said with a laugh, “but like me sometimes it needs to close its eyes for a while to refocus on what’s important in life.”
“That’s what you’re doing in your recliner while we’re watching television most nights, refocusing?”
“That and charging my batteries to keep up with you when we go to bed.”
“Ah, that is the nicest thing any old man has ever said to me,” Dawn said with a funny smirk.
We walked in silent bliss through the nearby riverside park, circling back to the hotel to relax poolside. Dawn cracked open her new novel and I put on my headphones, preparing to drift back to sleep listening to a classic rock playlist.
“I’m going to take this time to refocus, okay?” I asked, as Pat Benatar began to accuse me of being a heartbreaker, dream maker and love taker.
“You do that. One topic I’m sure you’re not going to focus on is having children with me.” Dawn let out a mischievous laugh and looked over to me.
As she knew I would, I pointed my index fingers to both ears and with a goofy smile mouthed the words, “What? I can’t hear you over the music.”
In turn, she lightly hit my shoulder with her hand and blew me a kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll think about it for both of us. Sweet dreams, baby.”
Sweet dreams?
Baby?
We had yet to have any truly serious conversations about our future. This was fun, why spoil it by mixing in adult situations neither of us were prepared to contemplate?
Did Dawn grow up dreaming of having 2.3 kids, the white picket fenced yard and a husband who was home
