Don't Touch Me! - 8

 

"I presume Milburn had one of his people fingerprint you. Did they take hair or skin samples?"

"No. Why would they? I live here. I took care of her. And they didn't take my prints. Well, not like you see on TV. I guess the detective believed me enough he wasn't willing to test whether I'd go off the deep end. So he had one of his people give me a sheet of plastic to hold." Cody smiled wryly. "Sort of like you see in a detective movie where the cop finds a suspect in a bar and steals the glass the dude was drinking from so he'll have prints to run."

Brent chuckled. "I guess Milburn must watch the same movies. Did they search the house?"

"Oh yeah. Not sure what for. It was obvious the killer used one of Mother's pillows to smother her."

"She was manually strangled, like the other victims?"

"Well, there wasn't a rope or anything around her neck when I found her, just bruises, so I'd presume so. But then I'm hardly an expert."

Brent chuckled. "I'd hope not, unless you used strangulation in one of your books."

"I haven't so far. Maybe once all this is over… No. I don't think I can work any of this into a horror story. It's too personal."

"You never know," Brent replied with a smile. "Okay, I think I've picked your brain enough for the moment. Unfortunately, given your phobia—meaning you rarely leave the house—you don't have an alibi for the time she was killed. At least, I presume you don't."

"No. I don't know exactly when she died, but after she was in bed, I went upstairs to write. Then, somewhere around midnight, I think, I went to bed."

"Did you shower first?"

"Yes… Yes! Maybe that's why I didn't hear anything?"

"It's one possibility. Where is your bedroom compared to hers?"

"Come on. I'll show you." Cody took him upstairs. "That's my room, and that,"—he pointed to another door—"is what I laughingly call my study. It's really a third, very small, bedroom. Mother's bedroom is under what used to be her and Dad's bedroom, which is across the hall from mine."

"Far enough away, you might not have heard anything anyway, if she didn't cry out. If she struggled, and the fallen nightstand says she might have, it wouldn't have made much noise, especially since the room is carpeted."

"Meaning I wouldn't have heard it when it was knocked over."

"Probably not. All right, it's time for me to get out of here. I'll be in contact as soon as I've talked with Milburn. Oh," Brent smiled ruefully as they walked back downstairs. "I do need to get a retainer check from you."

Cody nodded, going to the desk in the corner of the living room which he and his mother used when they paid bills. He wrote out the check, setting it on the corner of the desk. Brent picked it up, pocketing it.

"Don't forget to set the alarm," Brent warned on his way out the front door.

"I never do. Forget, that is." Cody smiled wryly. "Mother drummed it into me from day one."