I EASILY REMEMBERED the location of the Dunston Office Plaza from the other day when I dropped Lynn at Dr. Meyers’s office. Only today, the place looked deserted and except for a couple of vehicles, the lot was completely empty. Hopefully, one of the cars belonged to Rufus. I couldn’t shake the fact that Chuck’s fiancée knew more than she was telling me. Whatever she was hiding could be the key to the whole case and the evidence that cleared Jodi. If I could only find out her name, Sean would be able to easily track her down.
A blast of hot air hit me as I entered the main doors of the office plaza. I scanned the directory on the entryway wall and found that Rufus Manning Photography was on the second floor, suite 201. My footsteps echoed on the tile as I headed for the staircase. On the way, I saw a sign marking the entrance for Dr. Meyers’s office. I noticed it was tucked toward the rear of the building and near the back entrance, making it easy, I supposed, for clients to come and go discreetly without walking past the other offices.
Upstairs, I found the main door to Rufus’s studio open. A good sign. Maybe I’d get that information after all. “Rufus,” I called out. The reception area was empty, so I ventured down the hall toward what looked like a couple of smaller rooms. Offices probably. “Rufus. It’s me, Lila.”
“Hello?” I called out, knocking on the first door. No one answered, but I heard some shuffling noises. I pushed the door open. “Rufus?”
It wasn’t Rufus in the office, but Dr. Meyers. She was standing near a desk, a manila file in her hands. “Dr. Meyers?” My eyes took in her startled expression, the clutched file. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
She gripped the file tighter, her eyes darting to the door behind me. “Just stopped by to pick up some pictures Rufus took for me. He told me I could just come in and get them.” She started to push by me. “But I better get going. I have a client coming in for an appointment. See you this afternoon, Lila.”
I maneuvered to block her way, stealing a quick glance at the folder. The label read Richards. “Why do you have Chuck Richards’s file?”
She tried to sidestep me. “Just let me by, Lila.”
I strengthened my stance. “Did you know Chuck?”
She started to push past me, but I stood firm. “Let me by, Lila,” she hissed. “I’m going to be late for my appointment.”
“Not until you answer a couple of my questions.” I reached for the file, my fingertips gripping the edge. “Why are you stealing this file? What’s in it that you’re trying to hide?”
She pulled back, but I gripped tighter and yanked on the file, tearing part of it out of her hand. A piece of paper fluttered to the carpet. I bent down and snatched it up, squinting at the print. It was a receipt for a photography package for Chuck Richards and Amanda Meyers. Amanda Meyers? “Amanda Meyers?” I asked out loud. An image of Chuck’s fiancée popped into my mind—her eyes, the way her nose tipped at the end. Now that I thought about it, there was a resemblance. “Your daughter,” I concluded.
Dr. Meyers took a couple of steps backward, her back pressing against the desk and her head shaking slowly. “Yes. My daughter. Can you believe it? It’s been my life’s passion to empower women to fight against the atrocities of domestic violence and here my own daughter was going to marry a man who”—her face twisted with hate and scorn—“a man who hit her.”
Something slowly came back to me: The day of the murder, when I needed someone to give me a break, I flagged down Franklin. He’d mentioned that he was looking for Dr. Meyers. Why was he looking for her? She should have been at her booth . . . “You killed Chuck.” The words slid out of my mouth, more of a realization than an accusation.
“I had to. Can’t you see that?” Her eyes took on a wild look, her normally cool, controlled expression gone as her face flushed. “She wouldn’t stay away from him. It was sick. He’d hit her and then come back all apologetic and everything and she’d forgive him. Take him back. I see it all the time with the women I counsel, but my own daughter . . . It made me sick. Then she came home one day, all happy and gushing over some piece of junk engagement ring he bought her. She was sure he’d changed. She kept telling me how happy they’d be. Then it happened again. This time he beat her so badly she ended up in the hospital. I was able to get to her then. I convinced her to give the ring back and leave him. Even set her up in another state, helped her find a job . . . I did everything I could to try to help her.”
“But she went back to him.”
Dr. Meyers nodded slowly. “He found her. Hunted her down like a wounded animal. Wouldn’t leave her alone. Eventually she started talking to him again. Again, he convinced her that he’d changed. But I knew better. Men like him never change.”
I remembered that first day at the Magnolia Bed and Breakfast, when Chuck told Cora he needed to finish the job because he was getting ready to go on a trip. “He was getting ready to meet Amanda somewhere, wasn’t he?” I asked. “He was taking the ring back to her.”