Ashes to Dust (Las Vegas Mystery)

sure? Did he say?” Alice asked.
    “Four years of experience as a homicide detective,” Miller said.
    “He told you that was the reason?”
    “Yeah. And he said only the guilty need to take lie detector tests. For the innocent—it’s a waste of time. I think that makes sense.”
    “So, you’re not interested in taking a lie detector test?”
    “That’s correct.”

Erin Potter came to her door in shorts and a baggy T-shirt. She escorted them to her living room without saying a word. The three of them sat down.
    Snow, sitting next to Alice on the couch, produced a smile. Then he crossed his legs and arms.
    “We’ll try to make this short, Erin,” Alice said. “I imagine you have to get to work pretty soon.”
    “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m off today.” She made no attempt to smile. Instead she narrowed her eyes, her lips open slightly.
    “Oh,” Alice said. “You’re off Mondays and Tuesdays?”
    “That’s right,” she said. “Same schedule Laura had.”
    Snow pulled his spiral notebook out of his back pocket and began to scribble.
    “Right,” Alice said. She leaned back and interlaced her fingers in her lap. “We wanted to check with you again about the bruise on Laura’s jaw.”
    “Okay. What would you like to know that I didn’t already tell you?” Her eyes narrowed even more.
    “We need to double-check that. You said it was eight months ago, when Kevin Miller and Laura broke up the first time.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And that’s when Laura had the bruise. The day after.”
    She kept her eyes focused on Alice. “That’s right.”
    “You’re sure it wasn’t five months ago—a few days after Easter?”
    “I’m certain of it,” she said evenly. “If someone told you it was in April, they’re mistaken. It happened in January. The day she told him to leave.”
    “Also,” Alice said, “you told us that Kevin backhanded Laura?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Which side of her face had the bruise?”
    “Her left?”
    “But Kevin Miller is right handed. If he backhanded her, the bruise would have been on the right side of her face.”
    “He must have used his left hand,” Erin argued.
    “I don’t think that’s likely,” Alice said.
    Erin shrugged. “I don’t know if it is or not. I’m just telling you what Laura told me happened. She said he hit her with the back of his hand, and she told him to pack up and move out.”
    “And that was in January.”
    “That’s correct.”
    “Erin,” Alice said, “you say you’re off Mondays and Tuesdays.”
    “That’s right.”
    “You were off last Tuesday?”
    “I was,” she said.
    “Would you mind telling us where you were from the middle of the afternoon that day until later that evening?”
    “Of course not,” Erin said. “I was with a friend. I went over to visit her around ten o’clock Tuesday morning, and I stayed until Wednesday morning.”
    “Do you mind if we check with her on that?”
    “Of course not,” she said. “Her name is Charity Lane. She lives not far from here. I’ll get her address and phone number for you if you like. I’ll even call her and tell her you’re on your way over. I’m sure she’s home. She’s off today, and she never goes anywhere. She’s a real homebody.”

    They were in the Sonata, fastening their seat belts.
    “Jim,” Alice said, “do you feel like this is a waste of time?”
    “The entire investigation?” he said. “Or going to visit Charity Lane?” He slipped the key into the ignition and cranked the engine.
    “Charity Lane,” Alice said.
    “Of course,” Snow said. “Erin is probably on the phone right now, telling her what to say. Unless she actually was over there that night.”
    “What do you think?”
    “I think Crystal found out about Andrew Tully and Laura, had it out with Laura, and hit her in the head with the baseball bat. Then she called her good friend Erin, begging for help disposing of the body. Erin drove over to Crystal’s home and lent her a helping hand.”
    “Yes,” Alice said. “That makes a nice theory. I think I can go along with that.”

Charity Lane lived in a two-story, three-bedroom home in the Spring Valley area of Las Vegas. A plump woman in her mid-twenties, she was of average height, with black hair cut to the middle of her ears. She had a bulbous nose, small eyes and mouth, and flat cheekbones. Her head was as round as a volleyball, and it rested on a short stump of a neck.
    She came to her door smiling