Straightening the Curves

Chapter Eleven: Room to Breathe

January Thirtieth, Seven-thirty PM

It rained all the next day. Tomorrow was the set date for the next part of the trial. Eve was busy trying to think of her next move in court, so Luke kept Cooter occupied by hanging out with him in the downstairs arcade, watching a few movies, talking about guy stuff—anything to help keep his mind of the tomorrow.

As much as Cooter appreciated his best friend's attempts at putting his mind at ease, the mechanic just couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if they lost. Of course he didn't doubt that his cousin could break him free of this, but his nagging mind kept telling him that he was either going to rot in jail or get stuck with the needle. He tried not to show his worry in front of Luke, not wanting him to worry. Truth was, Luke already knew. He just didn't say anything about it so not to embarrass him.

"So, uh, how'd Ali take to seein' ya again?" Cooter asked, as they laid in their respective beds staring up at the ceiling.

Luke shrugged. "I dunno. I figure she was a bit surprised."

"Reckon she wants to see ya again?"

He started laughing. "How the heck should I know? Can't ever tell with girls—especially that one."

"Well, she's my cousin. I guess she would be hard to get." He shifted a little bit to get more comfortable. "Hey, Luke—y'know, you've been stuck in this hotel with me all day, why don't you go find Ali and do somethin'?"

"Aw, Cooter, I can't leave ya up here by yourself. I'd feel terrible."

"I feel terrible makin' ya stay up here bein' bored. Go on an' have some fun while you're up here, for Pete's sake. Not like I'm gonna get in trouble if ya take your eyes off me for a few hours."

"Now, Coot—"

"I insist."

The look that Luke received implied that he really really wanted Luke to go. Which he did. He knew Luke had come along to help him and would feel bad about leaving him there on his own, but dang it there just wasn't any sense for the boy to be cooped up all night.

"Okay, I'll go," Luke sighed, getting up off the bed. He grabbed his denim jacket from the chair he had it hanging on. "Don't wander off. I'll be back in a while. And startin' tomorrow, I'm gonna get to the bottom of this murder mystery an' get us all back home."

Eve was pacing back in forth in her room, going over every solitary detail of the case in her head. The crime was committed August thirtieth of last year . . . exactly five months ago, actually. . . at nine o'clock in the evening . . . simple, ordinary young girl that hadn't even hardly begun to live. Why someone would kill her, she didn't know. What motive could someone possibly have to kill her? Who would want to kill her? An angry ex-boyfriend? Ex-husband? Father, brother, close friend?

The formula seemed simple for the murder, but what she couldn't understand was how in blue blazes they got a picture of her cousin carrying a hammer outside of the hospital. She had asked Cooter about it before and he claimed that he had never sat foot in that hospital in all his life. And why he'd be carrying a hammer in one was beyond the both of them.

Somehow, she was going to have to dig up an alibi for Cooter. But that still didn't explain that photograph. Pictures tell a thousand words, and that certain one seemed to tell several thousand.

A knock on the door disrupted her thoughts. She focused her mind back to the present day and shouted, "It's open."

As she had almost expected, Cooter came in. He had a rather uneasy look about him. More than likely, he was just discouraged about how the trial was coming about.

"Sorry if I'm botherin' ya," he said rather quietly. Yep, there was definitely something wrong. He'd been quiet for the past two days, and anyone that knew Cooter Davenport knew that that wasn't normal.

"Oh, I was just goin' over some stuff in my head," she told him. "Go ahead, sit down."

He pulled out a desk chair and straddled it backwards so that he could lean forward against the back of the chair. Eve sat on the bed and crossed her legs in a lady-like fashion.

"Where's Luke?" she decided to start off.

"I got tired of him babysittin' me, so I told him to go take Ali somewhere, if he could drag her away from work." Cooter sighed deeply. "Evie, tell me the truth. What are the chances of me gettin' acquitted?"

She scratched the back of her bare neck, her hair tied in a French knot, not too sure how to answer that. "I'm tryin' real hard, sweetie. But the jury seemed pretty hung up on that snapshot of you. I don't really think they'd listen to anything I might bring up. I wish I knew where they got that from. I just don't understand that. You're sure you've never been there before?"

He nodded.

"So confusing," she said to herself, getting up to start pacing the floor again. She always thought better that way. "Do you have any idea where you might have been that night—August thirtieth?"

"Nope. An' I don't keep any records of anything in my shop hardly. Nothin's in order over there, so it wouldn't be no good sendin' someone home to get it. Sorry."

"That's all right," she said, tapping her fingers on her chin in slight frustration. So much for an alibi."Deary, I don't think I can get an acquittal. I've got a bad feelin' that jury's gonna go along with the prosecution on this one. In that case, I can always try and get you out of death row and just have a jail sentence. I might can get you a chance for parole."

"How much is this gonna cost?"

She turned around. "Excuse me?"

"How much do I owe ya for this?"

She almost laughed. "Cooter, I'm not chargin' you anything for this. Don't be silly."

"Don't argue with me on this one, Evie," he said in a serious voice. "You're providin' a service that you went to college and learned. That takes time, money, an' pure skill. I don't want any charity from you or anybody else. Just tell me how much it'll cost. I'll pay ya back, by an' by."

Eve's shoulders sunk. She had never intended on him paying her a dime, but if he insisted . . . "How's this—you give me free car service for two years and then you just pay me five thousand dollars."

He smiled a little. "You're the boss."

Another knock came at the door. Eve blew out a breath of frustration and went answer it. She came face to face with a maid carrying a giant bouquet of red roses. Eve's eyes got real big.

"Who're these from?" she asked as the little uniformed woman handed her the huge arrangement.

"Your husband," the maid, whose nametag read Lisa, smiled. "Said they're an anniversary present."

Eve nearly fell out. January thirtieth—they're first-month anniversary! She couldn't believe she'd forgotten. "Oh, the poor darling!" she gasped, horrified that she didn't remember. "He'll be so upset that I didn't call him! Poor dear—I'm callin' him right now."

"Excuse me, ma'am," Lisa interrupted. "No need to call him. He's downstairs in the lobby."

Eve had to grab the door frame to keep herself up right. "Downstairs . . . my husband's downstairs . . . right now . . .I think I'm gonna faint. That little rascal, sneakin' on me like that." She smiled, gave her flowers a hug then ran to put them on her nightstand before taking off running down the hallway.

"Now, Cooter, you're sure you don't mind me goin' out for a while?" Eve asked as she held the door open to his room. She was wearing an elegant black velvet dress that went almost down to the floor and had a slit up to the knees along with a cream-colored fur coat that she'd received for Christmas last month. "If ya don't want to stay here alone, just say so."

"No, go ahead, it's your anniversary," Cooter waved her off. "Besides, Rosco drove all this way to see ya, he'd be rather disappointed if you declined his dinner invitation."

She smiled sweetly. "Yes, he would, wouldn't he? He'd be awful jealous if I stayed here, too, I reckon." She pulled a tissue from her little black handbag along with a tube of lipstick and wrote down a number on it. "If anything happens while I'm gone, we'll be at the Le Chateau restaurant. Here's the number," she told him, handing him the tissue which he stuck in his back pocket.

"All right."

"You're sure ya don't mind?"

"Evie, Rosco's gonna bust a button off his suit if ya keep him waitin' down there any longer."

"Okay, okay, I'm goin'," she said, finally closing the door. She opened it again. "Want me to bring somethin' back?"

"GO!"

"All right, I'm leavin'!"

At last she left, leaving Cooter to himself. He didn't think they'd ever leave. Not that he didn't want her or Luke there, it was just that he felt bad about tying them up into his troubles. He wanted them to be able to engage in their own personal lives and not stay cooped up in a hotel with him the entire time. Besides, he needed a little breathing room of his own.