Page 65 of Sinful Memory

“You didn’t stop?” Fletch wonders. “Not at all?”

“I filled up the gas tank before leaving the city,” she admits. “I would’ve filled up again a couple of hours later, but I was having car trouble about an hour into my trip, so I had to pull over and find a mechanic.”

“What kind of car trouble?” I lean forward and set my elbows on the table. “Which mechanic?”

“Um…” She sits back and looks to the floor beside her chair, almost like she’s searching for her purse. But coming up empty, she glances up at me again. “I don’t know the name of the place. But it was the only one still open after hours, so I pulled in there and spoke to the first guy I saw.”

“His name?” Fletch demands. He takes out his notebook and a pen. “Do you have a receipt for the repairs he made?”

“I-I do.” She nibbles nervously on her bottom lip. “I could probably pull the transaction up on my phone, if you want. It shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good. We’re gonna need his name and number. We’ll call him to discuss the repairs and provide you with an alibi.”

“An alibi?” The light above her head finally switches on. “Myalibi? You think I hurt Anna?”

“I think we have to cover all our bases,” I cut in. Though a stop at a mechanic shop an hour outside the city a week before Anna’s murder doesnotmake an alibi. “What mechanical issues were you having?”

“Um…” Her entire body quivers now. But her tears at least make way for a different emotion. Adrenaline. Disbelief. “Something to do with my brakes. Like…” she shrugs. “The fluid or something. I was having a lot of trouble slowing and stopping. Hills were becoming an issue, even when I had my brake pressed all the way to the floor. This had never happened to my car before, so I slowed down and rolled into the first shop I could find.”

“And it was a quick fix?” Fletch murmurs.

“No.” She sets her thumbnail between her lips and nibbles. “It took hours and cost an arm and a leg.” Now her face warms with embarrassment. “I tapped Vance’s credit card and considered it karma for his bad behavior.”

Something Minka would do, I think. Just to spite me for buying the wrong coffee beans.

But I don’t say so out loud. I keep my thoughts to myself, and my lips pressed into a firm line.

“So you stayed at the mechanic’s overnight?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I stayed at the crappy hotel next door. Wherever I had wanted to go, I would have had to flag down a cab, or walk. And the area was rough. So I made a beeline for the hotel and locked myself inside for the night. Vance kept trying to call me, but I wasn’t willing to talk to him yet. Then I guess he called my sister, since as far as he knew, I was on the road and headed her way. She called me, already used to this routine now, and chatted with me for the evening while feeding her baby and rocking him to sleep.” Her eyes light up. “I have that call log too! I can provide you with my phone records to show you I was talking to her.”

Still a week out from the murder.No dice.

“What time did you get back on the road, Mrs. Perry? Was it as soon as he was done with your car?”

She shakes her head and looks down again. “I fell asleep at some godawful hour. Like, three or four in the morning. Then I woke at seven. The shop didn’t open till eight, so I got a coffee at the convenience store nearby and nearly had a heart attack when the place was robbed while I was inside.”

“Robbed?” Disbelieving, Fletch sits back and slides his hands into his pockets. “The convenience store you just happened to be in… was robbed?”

“Yes!” She leans forward to emphasize her point. “I’ve dubbed it the worst week of my frickin life! Vance and Anna slept together, then the car troubles that probably nearly killed me, then the robbery that could have so easily gone terrible. I got caught up making a statement to the police over that, which put me back severalmorehours. I didn’t see the guy—”

“Which guy?”

“The robber. The one with the gun. He was wearing a mask, and I was hiding behind a shelf, so I’m not sure he even saw me. It was over quick, because the cashier pulled out a bigger gun and scared the guy out.”

“Has he been caught?” I make a mental note to check police reports on the incident. “The perp,” I clarify. “In custody?”

“Yes.” She sniffs and broadens her shoulders. “He had tattoos on his hands, and they weren’t covered by his hoodie sleeves. I believe he was caught because of those.”

“Good.” I bring a hand up and rub it along my chin. “So you’ve had a wild twenty-four hours by this point, haven’t you, Mrs. Perry? Awful news about your husband, leaving the city, car trouble, skeazy hotel, hardly any sleep, convenience store robbery. And still, you had a massive drive ahead of you.”

“It was all just more reason for me to want to go home,” she croaks out. “Not home with Vance. Home with my sister.”

“Were there any more issues during your week away?” Fletch asks. “Any more random craziness?”

She considers for a beat and settles with a soft shake of her head. “I was able to get away after all that mess, but had to drive through the next night. My sister was on the phone with me a lot of the way, just going about her day, so I could have a little company. Vance kept trying to call, and so did his publicist, Gina. She was checking on me, since I guess news of his infidelity was getting louder. Again.” She sighs. “She offered me flights, since she knew my destination was so far away, and I guess, as his publicist who makes money on good press, she wanted to make sure I was being levelheaded about everything.”

“Do you often speak with Gina?” I ask. I study Misty’s eyes and take note of the way she fusses with her tissues. “Are you friends?”

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