“Something like what?” Mitchell asks.
“Did you find who killed my wife?” Nelson asks.
“Mr. Rake.” Mr. Keenan holds up his hand. “My client would like to formally go on the record as stating he was in no way connected to his wife’s murder.”
“But he knew about the affair,” I say. “He came home early on Sunday because of it. He wanted to catch his wife being unfaithful to him.”
“But I didn’t,” Nelson says in a pleading tone.
Mr. Keenan holds up his hand again. “Mr. Rake, I’m advising you not to say another word.”
Mitchell looks to me. He wants me to get a read on Nelson’s emotions.
I step closer and finally sit down. Nelson wants to talk. I don’t know what changed, but he needs to confess something. The problem is his lawyer won’t let him. I’m not about to read Nelson without his consent. Not after what Officer O’Reilly just told Mitchell and me. I’d be no better than Leo Padavano.
A thought hits me. Chief Johansen didn’t pair Officer O’Reilly with Mitchell solely to have her see not all psychics are like the one she previously worked with. He also did it so I’d see the dangers of breaking rules when trying to convict criminals. The man is frustrating, but I have to hand it to him. That was very smart. Sneaky but smart.
“Mr. Rake, I’d like to tell you what I believe happened. Is that okay?”
Mr. Keenan smirks. “It would be pure conjecture, Ms. Ashwell.”
“Humor me,” I say. “Mr. Rake doesn’t have to confirm or deny anything. I’m aware you’ve advised him not to speak.”
Mr. Keenan shrugs and adjusts his tie again. It must be a nervous tic of his.
I set my gaze on Nelson. “I think you suspected your wife was cheating on you. You decided you needed to find out for yourself, so you returned home early from your business trip. You staked out your own house on Sunday to see if another man went to see Janet. And you discovered it was Tony Trevino.”
“That’s a nice story, Ms. Ashwell. Unfortunately, it’s fiction,” Mr. Keenan says.
The look in Nelson’s eyes tells me differently, though. “You recognized Tony as the electrician that came to your house. That made it easy to look him up and find out where he lived, didn’t it?”
“Do not answer that,” Mr. Keenan says. “I think we’ve heard enough. My client will say no more on this issue.” He stands up and motions for Nelson to do the same.
“You went to his house Monday morning,” I say. “The question is why. Did you want to hear it from him before divorcing your wife, or did you want to punish Tony yourself? We’ll find the proof to put you at the farm Monday morning. That will be easy enough to do. It would behoove you to fill in the gaps about what happened that morning before we do.”
“Not a word, Nelson. This conversation is over. Let’s go,” Mr. Keenan says.
Nelson doesn’t budge from his seat, despite his lawyer’s insistence that he get up. “I want to make a deal,” he says in a small voice.
Chapter Sixteen
Marvin Keenan’s so red he looks purple. “I demand another moment alone to speak with my client. You’ve tricked him, and I need him to be aware of his rights.”
“No, I want to make a deal. I’ll cooperate with you.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Keenan says, trying to take over the conversation again. “You’ll provide evidence from your business trip to show you were there for the full duration, until Wednesday when you discovered your wife’s body.”
“No.”
“Mr. Rake, I insist you stop talking this instant.”
Man, I have a knack for getting people to turn on their lawyers. “Mr. Rake, if you’re innocent, your best bet is to talk to us.” His eagerness to talk is bombarding his energy right now. I don’t even need to touch him to know he’s determined to walk out of here a free man today.
Mr. Keenan starts yelling, but I focus on Nelson. “I know you didn’t want me on this case, but I’m the person who can help you the most. I can already sense you want to help us.”
“She’s trying to trick you into a confession,” Mr. Keenan yells.
“Mr. Rake, I’m trying to help you. All he cares about is his pay.” I keep my gaze trained on Nelson.
“I came back on Sunday. Like you said.”
Mr. Keenan throws his hands in the air.
“Mr. Rake, would you like your lawyer to remain present, or would you like him to leave?” Mitchell asks.
“Of course, they want me gone, Nelson,” Mr. Keenan says. “They know I can stop them from forcing you to confess to something.”
“No one is going to force you to do anything, Mr. Rake,” Mitchell says. “You said you wanted a deal. Let’s make one.”
Nelson nods to me and Mitchell before turning to his lawyer. “I’m going to tell them everything. I don’t need you here.”
Marvin Keenan shakes his head. “You’ll be calling me when all of this goes downhill. You have my number.” He grabs his briefcase from the floor beside his chair and storms out.
“Mr. Rake, please tell us everything that happened,” Mitchell says.
“Will you drop the charges for me lying to that other police officer and for resisting arrest?” Nelson asks.
“I will see to it that your cooperation is noted and that any possible jail time is taken out of consideration. There may still be a fine, though.”
Nelson nods. “Okay. I came back on Sunday, like she said.” He dips his head in my direction. “I didn’t let Janet know I was home. I had to see for myself. His truck pulled into the driveway around 7:00 p.m. I didn’t recognize him at first because I only saw the back of his head as he went into the shed. At least Janet had the decency not to take him into our bedroom.” He forces a laugh and then breaks down in tears. “I didn’t see anything. I didn’t even see them kiss. But I saw the expression on her face when she answered the door.”
“So you don’t actually have any evidence of the affair,” Mitchell says.
Which is why I couldn’t pick up on any indication that Nelson was lying earlier when he insisted his wife wasn’t having an affair.
“I didn’t want to believe it was true. I guess that’s why I didn’t ask Janet face-to-face. I don’t think she would have been able to lie to me.”
“Mr. Rake, we’re aware that you hit Janet once.”
Now, he starts sobbing. “It only happened once. I swear it was the…” He pauses, and I realize he doesn’t want to admit to taking steroids.
“We’re aware of the supplements you took for your bodybuilding,” Mitchell says.
“I stopped taking them after that. I couldn’t live with the fact that I’d hurt her. I wasn’t myself. I loved her. She forgave me, and it never happened again.”
“I believe you,” I say. I also know it’s true because Julissa told us as much.
Nelson looks relieved.
“You confronted Tony Trevino, didn’t you?”
He shakes his head. “I wanted to. I went there Monday morning. Really early. I figured he was a farmer, so he’d be up. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I thought we’d be able to talk man to man.”
“Are you saying you weren’t angry with Mr. Trevino?” Mitchell asks.
Nelson squeezes his hand into a fist. “Of course, I was angry with him. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to…” He takes a deep breath, and the way he’s pausing makes me think he’s counting like I do to center myself. “To be honest, I don’t know what I would have done if I confronted him and he admitted to the affair. I might have killed him. But I never got to talk to him.”
“What do you mean?” Mitchell asks.
“Mr. Trevino was already dead when you found him,” I say.
Nelson nods. “It was the most awful sight I’ve ever seen.” His eyes fill with tears again. “Until I found Janet.”
There’s no way this man is that good of an actor. He didn’t kill his wife or Tony Trevino. I’m sure of it.
“Mr. Rake,
do you have any idea who might have killed your wife?” Mitchell asks.
“Not a clue. I mean, at first, I thought maybe Trevino’s wife did it. Maybe she found out about the affair and killed her husband. But why wait days to go after Janet? Unless, she didn’t know who Janet was right away.”
“I don’t believe Marissa Trevino did this,” I say.
“Who then?”
Mitchell isn’t about to discuss suspects with Nathan Rake. “Mr. Rake, what did you do after you found Tony Trevino’s body?”
“I went back to Virginia. I never checked out of my hotel room, which is why my alibi stood up. I’m sure that other officer checked it out.”
That explains that. “Then you really did come back Wednesday to find your wife,” I say.
“Why didn’t you confront her after you knew Mr. Trevino was dead?” Mitchell asks.
Nelson twists his wedding band. “I love my wife. I couldn’t prove she’d cheated on me with that man, but I figured if she did, it was over. With him dead, things between Janet and me would go back to normal.”
“You were going to forgive her,” I say.
He nods. “She forgave me when I hit her. I owed her that in return. Marriage is hard. But we loved each other. We would have gotten past the affair.”
Mitchell looks at me for confirmation that Nelson is telling us the truth. I bob my head.
“Mr. Rake, I believe you. And since you returned to the hotel in Virginia, I’m sure there are members of the hotel staff who can verify your whereabouts and the time you checked out.”
“So I’m cleared?”
“For your wife’s murder, yes,” Mitchell says.
“What about Trevino?” he asks. “You don’t think I did that, do you?”
“I don’t,” I say, “and Detective Brennan doesn’t have enough evidence to prove who killed Mr. Trevino at the moment. You can rest assure we’ll find it, though.”
Nelson nods and stares at his wedding band again.
“Mr. Rake, I had a vision of silver jewelry in connection with your wife and Tony Trevino. Do you have any idea what that might mean?”
“Is that why you asked about my ring?” He meets my gaze.
“Yes. At first, I thought your wife might have been wearing silver jewelry when she was killed, but you and another person confirmed she didn’t wear jewelry when she worked on her art and that her wedding ring was yellow gold. That leaves me wondering what the silver jewelry means then.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
I stand up. “Thank you for speaking with us. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Nelson swallows hard and begins sobbing again.
“An officer will be in shortly to speak with you regarding that fine,” Mitchell says, but I’m not sure Nelson hears him over his own crying.
Mitchell and I head to his desk. Officer O’Reilly is gone, and I’m thankful for that. I want to enjoy our small victory for the moment.
Officer Wallace rushes over to us. “Brennan, we just got a call. Eugene Spicer was discovered in a hospital in East Stroudsburg.”
“What? When?” I ask.
“Apparently, he was on his way out of town, and he was mugged. He was beaten up pretty badly and tossed from a bridge. It’s a wonder he’s alive. He landed partially in the river and partially on shore. He broke both legs. Some hikers found him yesterday. He didn’t have any identification on him, so the hospital couldn’t ID him until he regained consciousness this morning. They called here a few minutes ago while you were talking to Nelson Rake.”
We need to go talk to Eugene. “Is he taking visitors?” I ask.
“I already informed the hospital you were coming and needed to speak to him in connection with two murders.” Officer Wallace smiles at me.
“Thanks, Wallace.” Mitchell claps him on the shoulder as we head out.
Time for a road trip to East Stroudsburg.
Mitchell and I have wound up in that town before on cases. I expected Eugene to be near the park and ride on the northern end of the town if he was fleeing the state, but his body was found on the south side, under a bridge that crosses a river dividing East Stroudsburg and Stroudsburg.
Luckily for Eugene, there’s a hospital less than a mile from there, which means he received the care he needed very soon after his body was discovered. Of course, he might be our killer, so that care could be getting him ready to spend the rest of his life in prison.
Mitchell flashes his badge at the receptionist when we enter the hospital. She directs us to Eugene’s room. He’s not in critical care, but he looks very banged up and has casts on both legs.
“Mr. Spicer?” Mitchell asks as we approach the bed.
“Yes.” Eugene attempts to sit up but opts to raise the head of his bed instead.
“I’m Detective Brennan with the Weltunkin PD. This is my partner Piper Ashwell. We’re investigating the murders of Tony Trevino and Janet Rake.”
Eugene doesn’t appear to be breathing as Mitchell speaks.
“We’re aware that you’ve been in communication with Marissa Trevino. You were supposed to meet her Wednesday night.”
Eugene still refuses to confirm or deny anything. He’s keeping a stoic expression on his face.
“We were at the restaurant where you were supposed to meet Marissa.”
“Marissa wouldn’t—” He stops abruptly, obviously knowing he made a mistake in acknowledging her name.
“Mr. Spicer, I should tell you that I’m a psychic P.I. I’m already aware of who you are and your connection to Marissa Trevino and your son, Nathan. There’s no point in lying to us or trying to hide anything.”
“Psychic? Like crystal balls and all that nonsense?”
“Nothing like that, actually.”
“Why don’t you tell us when you left Weltunkin?” Mitchell says.
“Never said I was there.”
“You were staying at the Vacation Villa and checked out early Wednesday morning. The staff at the hotel already confirmed that for us,” Mitchell says. “So let’s save everyone a lot of time and stick to the facts.”
“We also saw the note you left Marissa at the restaurant because, like I said, we were there, too.” I could so easily reach forward and touch Eugene’s arm, but I’m trying to play by the rules. Have I mentioned I hate rules?
“What do you want from me? Seems like you know everything already.”
“For starters, you can tell us if you killed Tony Trevino because he was having an affair and divorcing your ex-wife.” Wow, that sounds strange saying it aloud.
“I’ll mention we’re aware of the communication you’ve had with Marissa, so there’s no point in trying to deny it.” Mitchell’s tone makes it clear he’s not willing to beat around the bush with any details of this case.
Eugene exhales loudly. “Marissa and I planned to meet up a while back. We were married once, which you already know. I never got to know my son, and I figured it was time since Marissa was getting divorced.”
“Except the divorce wasn’t anywhere near finalized,” I say. “And your visit coincides with Tony Trevino’s death.”
“Did you leave a note on your son’s door Monday morning?”
Eugene furrows his brow. “No. I haven’t had any communication at all with Nathan.”
“Were you at the farm Monday morning?”
Eugene scoffs. “I didn’t even know this Trevino guy. Why would I kill him?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because with him dead, Marissa would get everything. They weren’t divorced yet, so all of Tony’s money and belongings would go to Marissa.”
“Then why are you questioning me?”
Is he really throwing Marissa under the bus to save himself? I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised since he left her and Nathan high and dry when Nathan was a baby. “You know what?” I say. “We’re wasting our time, Mitchell.”
“What do you mean?”
I gesture to Eugene. “This guy couldn�
�t stick around twenty-seven years ago. He couldn’t be bothered. I’m not sure he’d be bothered to commit murder now. Not even for the money. Unless he was planning to marry Marissa and then kill her, too.”
“What? I have no reason to kill Marissa,” Eugene says.
“And why kill Janet Rake? Eugene wouldn’t be bothered to do that either. He doesn’t stand to gain anything from it.”
“I’m not sure if you’re defending me or insulting me,” Eugene says.
“Possibly both.” I bob my head from side to side. “The point is, you didn’t kill anyone.”
“We have no proof of that. He was here. He had motive. He had means.” Mitchell crosses his arms. “I can make a pretty convincing case against him.”
I realize what Mitchell is doing. He’s goading Eugene into letting me read him to prove his innocence. “That’s true. We don’t know for sure. I mean, I could read him, but he probably won’t agree to that. Not if he is guilty of something, and now that you’ve pointed out the means and motive, I’m not sure he is so innocent.”
Eugene’s gaze flits between Mitchell and me. “But you just said—”
“We could solve this now,” Mitchell says. He lowers his arms. “Piper is a gifted psychometrist. She can read the energy off people by touching them. If you’re innocent, she’d know it simply by you taking her hand.”
Eugene’s gaze lands on me. “Seriously? You can do that? How?”
“It’s better if I don’t get into the specifics with you. It will only make your head spin. But Detective Brennan is correct. I can read your energy and know for sure if you killed Tony Trevino or Janet Rake.”
“And I’d be free to go?” he asks.
Why do I have a feeling Marissa and Nathan will never hear from this man again?
Mitchell nods. “If Piper is satisfied you’re innocent, you’ll be free to return home once you’re released from the hospital.”
“What do I have to do?” Eugene asks me.
I step closer to him and hold out my right hand. “Take my hand. I’ll do the rest.”
He lets out a deep breath before placing his hand on mine.
Fight Fire with Foresight (Piper Ashwell Psychic P.I. Book 12) Page 14
