“He has an alibi and a bad knee. There’s no way he could run from Grant the way the peeper did that second time at your place. I’m not sure where the police are going to go next with it. I don’t think they have much evidence to point to anyone else. I hate that, especially considering you’re one of the victims.” Logan got a distant look on his face as he stared off in the direction of the shoe store around the square.
“What’s the matter?” Pepper asked.
“Nothing. There’s just some stuff about the case that doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe someday we’ll—”
The sound of two people arguing drew their attention and Logan let his sentence hang, unfinished. Turning their heads, they noticed Pat Kincaid and his wife, Jeanette, standing on the corner near Jeanette’s car. She must have driven down to pick him up from the police station.
Pepper was glad to see the police had released him, but she couldn’t say the same for his wife. Jeanette looked fit to be tied.
Her face was flushed red and she was clutching the strap of her purse like she might whip it off and swing it at her husband’s head at any moment.
“You thought I would be happy?” she snapped. “Yes, of course, I’m glad to know my husband isn’t the town creep. That might answer Sheriff Todd’s questions, but it still doesn’t answer mine.”
They both paused right in front of their car to continue arguing. They didn’t seem to care much that they were right on the square, where anyone could see and hear them.
“What are you talking about?” Pat asked. He looked tired, like he’d put in too many hours at the police station to have his wife grate at him.
“Where were you all those nights?” Jeanette asked. “The cops asked if we were together and I had to tell them no. Do you know how embarrassing that is? That I can’t even tell the cops where you are at night? All you do is lie to me and I know it. I’ve called the store looking for you when you have to work late”—she gestured with air quotes—“and you haven’t been there. Where have you been?”
Pat rubbed his hand over his mustache and sighed. “You know, you’re going to regret all of this later,” he said.
“Oh, shut up, Patrick! The only thing I regret is how stupid I must seem to you. Just because I haven’t caught you yet doesn’t mean you’re not cheating on me. I’m not a fool. You’ve been secretive, taking calls and making plans that you’re hiding from me. You work late all the time . . . you jump right into the shower without even speaking a word to me. Washing off the evidence of your infidelity, no doubt!”
“Jeanette . . .” Pat spoke softly in comparison to her loud shrieks, but she paid no attention to him.
“Twenty-five years, Pat. I’ve given you twenty-five years of my life. I’ve loved you, cared for you, fed you, made you a nice home. I just can’t believ
e you would do this to me.”
“That’s because I didn’t!” Pat snapped at last. “I’m not cheating on you, Jeanette. And I’m not the damn peeper!”
“I know you’re not the peeper, Pat,” she barked.
A sudden dawning of understanding came over his face. “Why are you so certain of that?” Pat asked.
Jeanette’s eyes widened for a moment as she stuttered over her words. “Well, I-I’ve kn-nown you for nearly thirty years. You might be a cheating bastard, but you’re not a pervert.”
Pat lifted an accusatory finger at her. “You’re the peeper, aren’t you?” he said.
Pepper’s jaw dropped open, an expression mirrored by his wife. She turned and put her hand on Logan’s forearm. When she looked at him, her brother looked equally stunned by the charges Pat had just leveled at his wife.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jeanette scoffed.
“No, it makes perfect sense. That’s why my boot prints were found outside Colette’s house . . . You’re the only person with access to those shoes. That’s why the peeper has been striking on the same nights I’m working late . . . And why the Chamberlain boy couldn’t chase down the peeper on foot—you’re a cross-country runner. Now it all makes sense why you’re so certain I’m not the peeper, and you even went out of your way to hire Logan Anthony to prove it. You know I’m not guilty because it’s been you all this time.”
A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, easily twenty-five witnesses to the public meltdown. Jeanette scanned the crowd, the wild look of a cornered animal in her eyes.
Pepper remembered running into Jeanette the same day she saw Pat at the grocery store. She’d told her about the new window and the other work they were doing. Was it possible that Pat was right?
She leaned over to Logan. “Shouldn’t you stop her from self-incriminating on the street?”
Logan shrugged. “Maybe, but technically I’m Pat’s attorney, not Jeanette’s. If she confesses, Pat’s off the hook and my job is done.”
Pepper frowned at her brother, but before she could respond, Jeanette stepped closer to her husband and spoke again.
“Patrick . . .” Jeanette said in a softer, sweeter tone. “Honey, please. Those aren’t the kind of accusations you throw around publicly.”
“I thought you said that was just a college phase, Jeanette.”