Janae Burgess sat outside. The bistro table she’d chosen to sit at was charming, with a large sunflower on the top designed out of tiny square tiles in shades of blue, white, and yellow. The chair, on the other hand, was small and round and wobbly. Definitely the wrong size for a curvy, big-boned woman. Whenever one of her ass cheeks made the slightest shift to the left or the right, one of the legs on the chair wobbled, causing her to grip the flimsy table with a hand so she didn’t take a dive and make a spectacle of herself in front of the other patrons.
Lips pressed together over a straw, she sighed. The Italian soda she’d ordered had almost no carbonation. No flavor. The raspberry flavoring tasted more like watered-down vanilla than the tart burst she expected. And there was too much ice. Way too much. At almost five dollars, she felt ripped off. She thought about going back up to the counter, asking the unmotivated male employee with not one, but two tiny, silver nose rings to make her a new one, but she didn’t. She didn’t like confrontation. She preferred smoothing waves to making them.
Across the street, Janae stared through the window of Evie’s business, watched Quinn accept a folder from a girl she assumed worked there. The same girl also handed Quinn something else, something small, too small to identify. A key maybe. This was followed by several minutes of back and forth conversation before the girl finally left, leaving Quinn in the shop alone.
Janae tossed the soda in the trash-can and looked both ways before jaywalking across the street. Quinn walked outside, locking the shop door behind her. When she turned, she hopped back, a hand flying to her chest.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Janae said.
“Janae, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Did something happen to Roy? Are you okay? Did he threaten you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“What’s going on then?”
Janae’s eyed danced around, surveying the street, the sidewalk. “Not here.”
“Okay.” Quinn poked a key back into the hole in the door and turned it until it clicked. Both women walked inside. “All right. What is it?”
“I need to tell you something ... about Roy.”
“So tell me.”
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. He didn’t do it. He didn’t kill Evie.”
“You shouldn’t defend him, Janae. You couldn’t possibly know the truth.”
“He didn’t do it, Quinn.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Janae noticed the freckled gooseflesh trailing up and down her own arms, and it wasn’t because she was cold. Her insides felt like someone had thrust their finger down her throat and jostled everything around.
Quinn eyed Janae’s arm. “What’s going on with you?”
“I ... I was there.”
“You were where?”
“At Evie’s house on the night she died.”
“Why doesn’t anyone else know about this?”
“I wasn’t alone when I was there. I was with Roy.”
“You haven’t answered my question.” Quinn moved closer to Janae until their faces were almost touching. “Explain to me why you haven’t said anything until now.”
“The day Evie died, Roy came to work. He was so down about the breakup. I thought I’d be a friend, offer to listen, you know?”
“Why are you telling me this? What does any of it have to do with you being at Evie’s?”
“I went home with Roy after work, and, all we did was talk at first, but then we ... umm ... he was just so sweet and caring.”
“Are you saying the two of you slept together?”
Janae lowered her head. Quinn stepped back.
“You did,” Quinn continued, “didn’t you?”
“It was an accident. I mean, he didn’t force me. I’m a grown woman, and I made a choice. The wrong choice. I let my emotions get the best of me. It was only supposed to be a one-time thing.”
“And earlier today, at Roy’s house, when you said you were only there to use his bathroom—did you really think I bought into that story?”
“Please, Quinn. Things haven’t been the best with my husband lately. I screwed up. It won’t happen again. If my husband finds out, it’s over between us.”
“I want to know what you know, Janae. Every detail. Or I’ll tell your husband myself.”
They were close to the same age, but Quinn’s lustrous locks and clear skin managed to make her look like she hadn’t aged a day since high school. Janae, on the other hand, had already felt the first hint of what it felt like to get old, her body slipping with each passing year like her metabolism had ceased to function. Twenty minutes a day on her treadmill at first, and now she was up to an hour. It didn’t seem fair. Girls like Evie and Quinn gave her the urge to starve herself. She couldn’t help it. She wanted her own slice of skinny pie—a single sliver of what they had. And she wanted affection from a man who made her feel attractive again. Not one who looked at her like she was nothing more than a kitchen maid, a woman whose main purpose in life was to raise his babies and wash his clothes. Was it so wrong?
“Janae, are you listening? I asked you to tell me what happened that night.”
Janae had been so busy obsessing, she’d missed the last thirty seconds of Quinn’s continuing lecture. Maybe more.
“After we left Roy’s house, he said he needed to stop by Evie’s,” Janae started. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. He said it was dark and she wouldn’t see me. He was just going to run in, grab his gear, and leave. He was right. It happened exactly like he said it would.”
“What time was this?”
“The same time he told you earlier today.”
“How long did you stay there?”
“Ten minutes tops. Roy said a quick hello to Evie’s son, grabbed his stuff, and we left.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill her. He could have dropped you off at your car and went back. Your work isn’t far from Evie’s house.”
“Roy didn’t drop me off.”
“Excuse me?”
“My husband was working the night shift, and the kids were staying at my parents’ house, so I didn’t go home until the next morning.”
“I thought you said sleeping with him was an accident?”
“At the time, I convinced myself we’d already done the deed once,” Janae said, “what was a few more times?”
“So you’ve withheld information from the police to save face.”
“I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal if the truth never came out. Everyone was saying Roman did it. Now you’re saying he didn’t.”
“Why risk everything now? Why tell me?”
“When you accused Roy today, I knew I had to do something. I can’t let him get charged with a crime he didn’t commit. Even if it means my marriage is over.”
“You realize confessing to the police now will make you look like a suspect too, right? You slept with a man who was formerly involved with a murdered woman. They’ll assume there’s a connection.”
“You don’t think I could ever harm Evie, do you? Everything I’ve told you just now ... it’s the truth, Quinn. I swear it is.”
Quinn tapped the edge of her fingernail on the counter. “I believe you. And it makes sense now why your grandmother, Mrs. Healy, showed up the day I was at Evie’s house and kept a close eye on me. She knows you were there that night too, doesn’t she?”
Janae bowed her head. Nodded.
Quinn continued.
“No doubt your grandmother is trying to protect you.”
Janae nodded again.
“Well, if Roy didn’t do it,” Quinn said, “someone did. And now I don’t have any idea who.”
“I may be able to help,” Janae said.
“How?”
“When we were driving down the road to Evie’s place, both sides of the road were empty. On the way back, I saw a truck sitting off to the side. It wasn’t running. It was turned off, like it had been parked there. I didn’t think anything of it before now, because I didn’t see anyone inside of it. It was near my grandmother’s property, but no one ever visits her that late. And she doesn’t have a truck. She has a car.”