Waking the Witch
Page 65

“He owed you.”
She nodded. “I wanted to turn myself in. It was an accident. But Alastair said I’d lose custody of Kayla. I couldn’t bear that. So we left Ginny and Brandi there and he helped me take Kayla home. I hated doing that—leaving her in that apartment alone—but Alastair said I had to. We put her to bed and locked the doors. Alastair took the gun and my clothes. He said he’d burn the clothing and get rid of the gun. Then I sat up all night and waited for Kayla to call me when she woke up and her mom wasn’t there.”
“And then you sat back and watched as Bruyn zeroed in on an innocent man.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “Innocent? That’s one word I wouldn’t use to describe Cody. Do you want me to say I felt bad about that?”
“You decided he deserved it. He gave Ginny the ultimatum that started everything.”
“No. Cody didn’t expect her to do that. He wanted to get rid of her, so he said the problem was the one thing she couldn’t change. Or so he thought. But would I feel guilty if he went to jail? Not for a minute. Did I push Chief Bruyn in his direction?” She met my gaze. “I did not. You know that as well as anyone. I told you the truth about Cody and how he treated my daughter. That’s it.”
“But then Claire found out the truth. You had to kill her, and when her brother got too close—”
“No. Absolutely not.” Paula’s eyes blazed. “I had nothing to do with that young woman’s death or her brother’s. The night Claire Kennedy died, I was at a friend’s in Portland. I had a job interview the next morning. Kayla was with me. And the night Detective Kennedy died, I was right here, playing bridge with my sister, Dorothy, and Lorraine from the diner. We heard the sirens when the police went by.”
I pressed her, but I knew she was telling the truth. It would be too easy to check her alibis. Besides, I’d never seriously thought she was responsible for Claire’s and Michael’s deaths. Even intentionally killing Ginny and Brandi to save Kayla had been a stretch.
“Alastair says whoever killed Claire Kennedy staged it to look like Ginny and Brandi’s deaths,” she said. “They wanted it to seem like we had a serial killer. Probably hoped Cody would be charged with Ginny and Brandi so they could pin her death on him, too.”
“Then it has to be someone who knew that Alastair planted that occult stuff at the original site. That was never released to the media.”
“Occult?” Paula looked genuinely confused.
I took the photos from my bag and pointed out the ritual circle and other signs. “Alastair must have done that after you left.”
“No, those things weren’t there.”
“You must not have noticed them. They’re too subtle—”
“No, I would have seen them. When I went to confront Chief Bruyn about his grandson showing those photos to Kayla, he tried to say they’d been in his desk all along. He shoved them in my face, the bastard. Made me take a good look at them, too. Those things weren’t there.”
 
 
thirty-three
 

As I stood, Paula eyed me warily. “Now what? Do I need to call lawyer?” “Not unless you killed Claire or Michael Kennedy. Claire’s mother is my client, so her death is my professional concern. Her brother’s death is my personal concern. As far as I can see, you had nothing to do with either, so ...” I shrugged and put my notebook into my bag. “Not my concern.”
“What about the gun? If Chief Bruyn suspects I stole it—”
“He doesn’t. I lied. You’re in the clear.”
She let me get to the hall, then she called, “Savannah.”
I glanced back.
“Thank you,” she said.
“If it’d been me,” I said, “I’d have shot Brandi, and it wouldn’t have been an accident.”
I went outside and said good-bye to Kayla, then watched as Paula threw open the door and bent to hug her.
 
AS ADAM DROVE, I relayed Paula’s story.
“I can see how it happened,” Adam said when I was done. “It’s Alastair who’s full of shit. They wouldn’t take Kayla away for a clear self-defense case.”
I shrugged. “It might not have looked all that clear to him. But she’s wrong about the photos. She just didn’t see the signs—the cops didn’t, remember? If Alastair is into Santeria, he knows enough about rituals to fake one and give the murders a satanic cult angle.”
Adam’s fingers tapped the steering wheel, his gaze distant.
“What?” I said.
“He could, but would he? Wouldn’t anything cultlike have them looking in his direction? Then, if they found the Santeria—which he wasn’t hiding very well—he’d be the new prime suspect. Maybe the cops never noticed those ritual signs because they weren’t there. Where did Jesse get his set?”
“From a contact. A friend—” I swore. “They were doctored before Jesse got them.”
 
WE COULD VERIFY that theory easily enough—just look at the real photos. But when I called the station, Bruyn was out. I wanted to stop by anyway, but Adam eased me off, not wanting us to jump to conclusions so fast.
“Remember Claire did have that pewter bead in her hand,” he said as he drove. “Sure, I think it would be dumb for Alastair to stage it, but maybe he didn’t see that.”
“He was panicked and did the first thing he could think of. But if that’s true, then it seriously cuts down on the suspects for Claire’s murder.”
“Let’s say Claire found evidence that Paula killed Ginny and Brandi. She goes to Alastair to get his advice. He kills her.”
“Then Michael starts getting close. Alastair lures him to a warehouse staged for a ritual—”
The Jeep thumped into a pothole. My stomach heaved and I grabbed the dashboard. Adam hit the brakes and my breakfast almost hit the windshield.
“Shit! I’m sorry.” He eased the Jeep to the side as I bent forward, eyes closed.
“Kleenex,” I mumbled, trying not to open my mouth too far.
“Right. Okay. I’ve got napkins.”
He passed them to me and I spat out the stuff in my mouth. As I wadded up the tissues, an opened pack of gum appeared in front of me. I took a piece, and chewed before saying, “I think I’m coming down with something.”