Page 43 of Bone Echo

“Bitsy Jenkins!” Jack’s voice boomed like a cannon shot in the tight space, and she halted, quivering like a rabbit. “I’m Detective Jack Jackson, and this is my partner, Detective Dudley Stephens. We just want to talk.”

She nodded then led them into a cluttered dressing room where a sleazy red satin blouse and a black skirt with barely enough material to cover the subject hung on a wooden rack.

“I’m sorry. There’s not much room to sit.”

“That’s okay.” Dudley felt sorry for her. She was just a down-on-her-luck girl with an unfortunate connection to the wrong man. “We’ll stand.”

“You don’t mind if I do?” She waited for his nod, then raked off a pile of magazines and almost collapsed into a hard wooden chair.

The array of glossy magazines scattered on the floor told their own story of a girl longing for the glamour they promised if only she would follow their rules. Dudley hated towering over her. Imagining the heartbreak of seeing one of his own daughters in her position, he backed up and perched on the edge of a dressing table.

“Bitsy, do you know a Maxey Cayson?” he said.

“Yes. He comes here a lot.”

“What’s your relationship with him?”

Her pursed lips looked like a pink bow his youngest daughter wore in her hair.

“This is not a trick question.” He softened his voice. “We just need you to be honest with us.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay. I hang out with him from time to time, but it’s nothing serious. He’s kind’a fun, but he has a drug problem. I don’t want another druggie in my life, permanent like.”

“That’s smart. You stick to that and find yourself a responsible man who will treat you right.”

Jack couldn’t hide his smile. He’d seen Dudley do this too many times. Dish out fatherly advice to broken and hurting young women who could be his own daughter, grown up and needy.

Dudley led her back to the day of the murder and asked if she was with Maxey Cayson that day.

“Yes. I went to his apartment after my shift at the bar.”

“What time did you leave his apartment?”

“I usually leave early in the morning. I’d been with him a couple of times, and that’s what I always do.”

Dudley’s pulse kicked up. That would still give Cayson enough time to drive down and kill Charlie that afternoon. The shoe print outside Laura’s house could have come from an intruder totally unrelated to the murder.

The theory was a stretch, and he knew it. He was so desperate he was grasping at straws. Not a smart thing for a detective to do.

Jack spotted his uncertainty and stepped smoothly into the breach. “Bitsy, can you tell usexactlyhow long you were with Maxey Cayson that day?”

“I don’t want to get him in more trouble.” She chewed her bottom lip. “The thing is, he got up before me and started doing lines of coke. By the time I got out of bed, he was passed outon the floor. I thought he was dead.” She covered her face with hands and bent double, heaving.

“Take your time,” Jack said.

“Okay.” She sniffed, then sat up straight and looked them in the eye. “I was there with him all day, making sure he didn’t die.”

“Can you be specific about the time?”

“See, the thing is, I would’ve been in trouble with the law if I was seen in the apartment of a dead man. So I called the bar to say I was sick and couldn’t come in to work.” She sighed, as if telling what happened was a relief. “I didn’t leave Maxey Cayson that day until six o’clock in the evening.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After the interview with Bitsy, Dudley and Jack had found rooms in a cheap motel on the outskirts of Little Rock so they wouldn’t have to fight city traffic the next morning. Both of them collapsed to get a few hours of sleep.

Jack’s snores raised the rafters in his room, but Dudley tossed and turned, tangling the covers in a wad around his legs. Peaceful sleep eluded him. He was haunted by his brother calling to him,Find me,tortured by his bones somewhere in the dark unknown screaming for justice.

At four the next morning, Jack drove back to Memphis. Both of them knew the trip to Little Rock had turned from following a promising lead to finding a dead end. With the knowledge heavy on them, neither said much on the way home. Both needed to let the Maxey Cayson/Laura Stephens collusion angle rest and start digging for clues in another direction.

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