At an intersection, Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Walters. He told her they had a few follow-up questions and asked if she would be available the next morning. Walters said she could meet them at her house at eight thirty, after she got home from dropping her kids off at school.

Then, Steve called Deputy Blackburn and let him know they wouldn’t be at the sheriff’s office until sometime between nine and nine thirty the next morning.

CHAPTER 32

Walters opened the door, wearing tight black yoga pants with a red Lululemon top that accentuated her muscular arms and full chest. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she almost seemed to prance as she moved.

“Please come in. Can I get either of you a cup of coffee?” Walters asked as she led them inside.

“Yes, please. Just black would be great,” said Steve.

“No, thank you, ma’am,” said Booger.

They sat on the same couch as last time, and Walters soon joined them with Steve’s coffee. Walters had fixed herself a drink as well; her glass was filled with some type of dark-green juice.

After a few pleasantries, Walters said, “I am not sure what you came here to ask me about today, but when you left last time, you asked me to tell you if anything came to mind that you might find interesting. After you called yesterday, I began thinking about it, and I remembered something. I am not sure if it will help you, but I thought you might like to know.”

“Please,” Steve said, “anything could be helpful.”

“Well, there was one time in high school when I think Ashley cheated on Scottie. It was during our junior year. Scottie and Ashley were not getting along so well. They may have even broken up at some point; I’m not sure.” Walters settled back in her seat. “Anyway, Ashley disappeared on several weekends during a two- or three-month stretch. I remember it drove Scottie crazy because she wouldn’t tell him where she was going. She would just leave on Friday, after school, and come back late Sunday.”

“Her parents let her disappear all weekend without knowing where she was?” Steve asked.

“No. She told her parents she was visiting Tracy Phillips down at OU. Claremore is such a small school; you knew everyone in every grade. Tracy was a senior when we were sophomores, and we knew her freshman year as well. We were all on the cheer team together.”

Steve followed up, “Her parents didn’t tell Scottie?”

“No. She asked them not to. She told them she was thinking about breaking up with him and didn’t want him just showing up out of the blue. She knew he was possessive and jealous enough to do that if he knew where she was. Her parents were never big fans of Scottie. So, they kept her secret from him.” “Is that where she went?” Booger asked.

“Well, I am pretty sure she went to Norman, but I don’t know if she stayed with Tracy. I remember Tracy came to the funeral. We spoke a little afterward, and I mentioned something about that year Ashley went and visited her at college. She said Ashley never came and stayed with her. I was so upset about Ashley’s death that I didn’t press Tracy on it. I hadn’t honestly even thought about it again until yesterday.”

“Is there anything else out of the ordinary you can remember?” Steve asked.

“No. That was the only thing that has popped into my head. It just made me wonder who she was actually visiting on all those trips to Norman.”

Booger gave Steve a nod, and Steve quickly moved the conversation to Scottie and the affair.

“I think I have told you that we have met with Scottie on a few occasions, and there is one thing he told us that we didn’t want to bring up in front of your husband,” Steve began tactfully.

Walters’s face remained steadily blissful.

She would make a great poker player, Steve thought. “We know you and Scottie were having an affair at the time Ashley was killed. He told us all about it.”

The words broke her instantly. Tears immediately began to flow out of her eyes. “I am so ashamed of what I did. Please don’t tell anyone. Jim and I are now in a much better place. We are happy. Please don’t ruin that for me.” She reached for the tissues on the side table.

“We don’t plan on telling anyone. We just need you to answer some questions for us,” Steve said reassuringly. “When was the last time you saw Ashley alive?”

“That morning. The morning he killed her. I was at their house. Steve and I had decided to end the affair. I went to see if Ashley knew I was the other girl. Once I found out she didn’t know it was me, I left. I texted Scottie and told him what I had found out as I was pulling out of their driveway. That was it. Next thing I know, I am getting a phone call telling me that Ashley is dead, and they think Scottie killed her.”

“What exactly did she tell you that morning?” Booger asked.

“She told me she knew Scottie was having an affair, but she didn’t know who the other woman was. That was about it. She was crying a lot. I tried to comfort her, but it felt kind of wrong knowing I was actually the one causing her pain. So, I left as fast as I could.”

“Are you sure she didn’t say anything else?” Steve asked.

“Like what? It seems you are expecting me to say something in particular,” Walters said intuitively.

Steve clarified, “Did she say anything about her plan to get Scottie in trouble?”

“No. I mean, she was devastated. Hurt. Mad. Like I said, she was crying a lot. But no, she didn’t say anything about getting him into any kind of trouble. What do you mean plan?”

“After you left, did you go back to their house that morning?” Booger asked.

“No… I didn’t go back.” Her tears stopped as she slowly discerned the meaning behind Booger’s question. “Wait, you think I….no, I didn’t go back and kill her, if that is what you are getting at.”

Walters stood abruptly and motioned at them. Steve and Booger followed her silent instruction and stood as well.

“Listen, I know I’m not perfect,” she said as she shepherded them to the door. “I made a huge mistake cheating on my husband and doing it with my best friend’s husband makes it even worse, but I could never kill someone. The Bible says ‘thou shalt not kill,’ and I walk with the Lord. I don’t appreciate you coming into my home and insinuating that I am capable of murder, let alone that I am the person who killed my best friend.”

As Walters opened the front door, she said, “Not that you two deserve this, but on the second Saturday of every month, for the last nine years, I have worked the church bake sale at the First Baptist Church of Claremore. When I left Ashley that morning, I went straight to the bake sale, which starts at 10:00 a.m. Anyone who goes to the church can tell you that. When it happened, there were two other ladies working with me—Eloise Blackburn and

Florabelle Martin. “

“Eloise Blackburn,” Steve said. “Any relation to the deputy?” “Yes. Eloise was his grandmother,” Walters said.

“Can you give us a way to contact them, so we can confirm your story?” Steve said.

“Eloise passed away six years ago, but I think I know where Ms. Martin is living.” Walters left them standing by the opened front door and walked back to the kitchen. From there, she spoke loud enough for them to hear her say, “I have a church directory in a drawer back here, I am pretty sure she is still listed in it. Ah, here it is.”

She returned shortly with a piece of paper containing an address: Restful Meadows Assisted Living Center, 1547 Blue Starr Drive.

“She suffers from Alzheimer’s, and she has been living at Restful Meadows for a while now. You can go talk to her, but I’m not sure what she will remember.” As she handed Steve the paper, she simultaneously ushered the two men completely out of her house. She paused in the entryway, holding the door, as they stood on the front porch.

“Look. I may not have been the best friend to Ashley. I know that. But I didn’t kill her. The more you guys stir this up, the bigger the chance that whole deal with me and Scottie will get discovered. I don’t want that to happen. Please, just stay away from my home, and let me get on with my life. Like I said, Jim and I are doing great now. We have two wonderful kids, and we are happy. Please don’t ruin that by bringing up ghosts.” Walters shut the door without giving them a chance to respond.

Steve looked at the slip of paper in his hand. “Do you want to go check this alibi now or after we review the file?”

Booger shrugged. “It’s only 8:53. Let’s make a quick stop at the nursing home, then go to the sheriff’s office. I don’t think visiting with Ms. Martin will take long.”

Steve and Booger pulled into the parking lot of the Restful Meadows Assisted Living Center a few minutes later. The front entrance had two doors, with handles in the middle, that swung outward; they were wide enough that a medical gurney could easily fit between them. Steve reached for the door on the right. It was locked. So was the door on the left. Then, he noticed the intercom and keypad on the left side of the portico.

Steve pushed the intercom button and said they were there to say hi to an old friend, Ms. Florabelle Martin. The door buzzed, and they walked in. They were now in an entryway with a second set of double doors in front of them. It reminded Steve of the twodoor system at the state prison. Except, rather than gray metal bars, these doors were designed like the front of a French country estate. When the door behind them closed, a second buzzer went off, and they passed through into the foyer. They signed the guest registry and asked where they could find Martin.

“How do you know Miss Flora?” asked the nurse on-duty at the front desk.

“We used to go to church together at First Baptist,” Steve said easily. “I always loved getting her bake sale items every month.

She was one hell of a cook.”