Murder Deja Vu

I knew it was over, at least for me. She wanted to go back to the apartment and talk it over. Carl, his girlfriend, and a few others came back. I was glad they did. Then they all took off, and that’s all I remember. I didn’t think I drank that much.”
    Dana saw a far-off look in his eyes.
    “I could never have done something so vile, sober or drunk, and I certainly wouldn’t have jeopardized the life I had in front of me for someone who thought of me as another conquest. I must have been drugged, but if so, I don’t know by whom, and not surprisingly, no one fessed up.” He touched her face and planted a light kiss on her lips. “That’s all for tonight.”
    He tried to smile, but she could see how difficult it was. “I’m sorry.”
    “You’d think after over twenty years the vision would have dimmed. But it’s as plain and clear as if it happened yesterday.” He rose. “To be continued.”
    “Stay.”
    “I will. Soon, but not tonight. You wanted to know everything. Know that talking about these things takes a toll on me. I can do it, but only a bit at a time.”
    “We don’t have to talk about it.”
    “I want you to know because I don’t want you to ever have doubts about me. I want to know about your life with Robert too, although it’ll probably infuriate me. Going over this again might register something that escaped me for the last twenty-one years. I’m thinking more clearly now.” He flashed a smile. “At least I tell myself that.”
    He stood to pull on his pants when a loud noise clattered from the great room. He turned to her, perplexed. “I left the door unlocked. Maybe open.”
    A male voice boomed, “ Police. We have a warrant .” Three men in uniform barged into the bedroom, led by Mickey Ruggs, a man Dana had known her whole life. They threw Reece down on the floor, pulled his hands behind his back, and cuffed him. The look of confusion on his face as he sought out Dana broke her heart.
    “You’re under arrest,” one of them said to him. “On suspicion of murder.”
    Dana had wrapped a blanket around herself to cover her nakedness. “Get out of my house.” She couldn’t believe it was her voice screaming. “Get. Out.”
    “Sorry, Dana,” Mickey said. “This has nothing to do with you.”
    “It has everything to do with me. You have no right to barge in here like storm troopers.”
    “I’m afraid we do,” he said, waving the warrant. “A young woman has been murdered not twenty miles from here, and we have a witness that places Daughtry with her. If I were you, I’d be glad my head is still attached to my body. Hers is almost clear off.”
    “Sound familiar, Daughtry?” one of the cops said, slamming the hard toe of his shoe into Reece’s ribs.
    Dana couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she knew the man on the floor being shackled like a wild dog couldn’t have done what they were saying. Not the man who had moments before touched her body, who had been inside her and loved her. She tried to calm her raging heartbeat, tried to clear her mind of the ugly thoughts of a woman’s severed head and the comment that connected Reece to the crime.
    “It’s not true, Dana. Call Jeraldine De Bolt. She’s an attorney in Boston.” The cop pulled him out of the room, shirtless, barefoot, and with his pants barely fastened. “Tell her I’m in trouble,” he managed to say over his shoulder before they dragged him from the room.
    “Sorry, Dana,” Mickey said. “Just doing my job.” He turned to leave, then turned back, keeping his eyes off her. “You’d better put some clothes on.”
    She glanced down and saw the blanket puddled at her feet.

Chapter Seven
A Day’s Lifetime Change

    D ana left a panicked message with Jeraldine De Bolt’s secretary. The lawyer called her back within a few minutes and listened while Dana explained what had happened. De Bolt lost it.
    “Goddamn, Ms. Minette. I’ll catch the first available flight down there. I shouldn’t have any problem acting as Reece’s attorney, unless the dead woman’s the judge’s daughter.”
    “I don’t know anything right now, Ms. De Bolt. Only that Reece asked for you.”
    “Call me Jeraldine, honey. Ms. De Bolt is my mother. No matter that Reece’s twenty-one-year old murder case has been dropped, there’ll always be people who think he did it. From what you’ve told me, the M.O. of this murder is similar to the murder of Karen Sitton .”
    “Tell me what to do.”
    The