Divine Evil

hands together.
    Cam rose to offer her a chair. “How are you feeling?”
    She stared down at her feet, then at the table. “Embarrassed.”
    “Don't be.” He smiled at her so gently that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying all over again. “I once had a fight with Susie Negley right at the counter of Martha's Diner.”
    “Susie Negley?” Sally said blankly.
    “She's Sue Knight now.”
    “Mrs. Knight?” Sally
stopped staring at the table to stare at Cam as she tried to imagine her stiff-spined English teacher with the sheriff. “You used to … with Mrs. Knight?”
    “When she was sweet sixteen. And she slugged me, nearly knocked me off the stool.
That was
embarrassing.”
    She giggled, and the sheen of tears faded from her eyes. “Mrs. Knight hit you? Really?”
    “Don't let it get around. I think people have almost forgotten.”
    “No, they haven't,” Clare said as she rose. “It just makes him feel better to think so. Why don't I leave you two alone?”
    “Can't you—” Sally bit her lip again. “Can't she stay? I already told her and … will it be all right?”
    “Sure.” Cam looked up at Clare and nodded. “I need to ask you some questions. You've known Ernie for a long time?”
    “Since middle school.”
    “Does he get along with the other kids?”
    It wasn't the line of questioning she'd been expecting and she frowned. “Well, he doesn't get into fights or anything. This time …” She looked at Clare. “This time was my fault, really. I came by, and I guess I made a scene because I wanted him to feel about me the way I felt— thought I felt,” she corrected, “about him. I don't want him to get into trouble, Sheriff. He isn't worth it.”
    “Good going,” Clare murmured and toasted Sally with a Diet Pepsi.
    “He's not in trouble.” Yet. “Who does he hang around with?”
    “Nobody really.”
    “He doesn't sit with a particular group in the lunchroom?”
    “No, he kind of keeps to himself.”
    “He drives to school, doesn't he?”
    “Yes.”
    “Does he ever have anybody in the truck with him?”
    “I've never seen him give anybody a ride.” That was funny, she realized. Kids were always piling into each other's cars. But nobody ever rode shotgun with Ernie.
    It wasn't what Cam wanted to hear. If Ernie was involved with what had been going on in Emmitsboro, he wasn't acting alone. “You've been with him a lot over the past few weeks.”
    The flush started at her neck and rose slowly to her cheeks. “Mr. Atherton assigned partners for a chemistry project. Ernie and I were working on it together.”
    “What did he talk about?”
    She moved her shoulders. “He doesn't talk much.” Itoccurred to her then that Ernie had never talked like Josh—about school, about his parents, other kids, sports, movies. He'd let her do all the talking, then had led her upstairs to his room.
    “Did you ever talk about the things that have been going on, like Biff Stokey's murder?”
    “I guess we did, some. I remember Ernie saying that Biff was just an asshole.” Her blush turned fiery. “I'm sorry.”
    “It's okay. Did he say anything else?” Mortally embarrassed, she shook her head. “Did he ever ask you about the night you and Josh were in the cemetery?”
    “Not really. But Josh told everybody, and he kept telling everybody until it got really boring. Josh just doesn't let things go, you know?” And she hoped he still wanted to go to the party with her.
    “Sally, were you with Ernie last Monday night?”
    “Last Monday?” She looked up gratefully as Clare refilled her glass of Pepsi. “No, I baby-sit for the Jenkinses every Monday.”
    “And Ernie didn't come by? You didn't go over to his house after you were finished?”
    “No. The Jenkinses live right next door to us, and if I had a boy over, my mom would get really hyped. They don't usually come home until about eleven.”
    “How about Tuesday?”
    “Tuesday?” She looked away and picked up her glass.
    “Were you with Ernie Tuesday night?”
    She nodded, then put down the glass without drinking. “I was supposed to be over at Louise's house, studying, but I went to Ernie's. His parents work at night.”
    “I know. Can you tell me what time you got there and what time you left?”
    “I left Louise's just before ten, so I got there a few minutes later. It was after eleven when I left.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, because I was supposed to be home at eleven, and it was almost eleven-thirty when