Deadly Accusations

by Debra Purdy Kong

  “Wrestling matches. She liked wrestling.” He looked up. “She had her future all worked out. Was mature for her age, ya know?”

  “Well, she had a lot of responsibilities.” Given what happened the day they worked together, “mature” was the last word Casey would have used to describe her.

  “Somebody has to pay.” Wesley’s eyes zeroed in on someone behind her.

  Casey turned and saw Roberto. Wesley’s scowl was burrowing into Roberto’s back, but why? Surely he didn’t believe Roberto had something to do with Jasmine’s death, or was it the way he was flirting with Mainland’s newest receptionist? With his hair trimmed, Roberto looked far more distinguished in his black suit than he did in grimy coveralls.

  Wesley moved away from Casey, past three of Mainland’s female drivers talking to the gorgeous, wheelchair-bound guy with the large blue eyes and dark blond hair hanging just below his jaw line. Even before he’d removed his suit jacket and revealed bulging biceps beneath his shirt, the women had been circling him. Casey first noticed him in the church parking lot when Marie assisted the man out of her SUV. Based on the way he and Marie communicated, and had held hands in the church, she figured he was Marie’s brother. She now understood Marie’s remark at Paval’s the other day, about the killer probably renting a van to practise driving. Vans designed for paraplegics would have hand controls. Most thieves couldn’t just jump in and take off. Noel turned and caught Casey watching him. She grinned, feeling like an idiot for staring.

  “My brother’s pretty cute, eh?” Marie said as she approached. “I’ll introduce you.”

  Although her face was still flushed from her confrontation with Birch, Marie’s tone was friendly enough. Still, there was an edge about her, as if one wrong word could set her off.

  “Casey, this is my brother, Noel Merryweather.”

  “It’s good to finally meet.” He shook her hand. “I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you.”

  “Really?” Taken aback, she turned to Marie.

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll leave you two to chat.” Marie hurried off.

  “Marie says you’re one of Mainland’s best security officers.”

  “She does?”

  Noel started to say something until his gaze drifted past her and his mouth clamped shut. Casey turned and spotted a man at Marie’s door. Casey recognized him from the Integrated Homicide Investigative Team. A couple of days ago, he’d asked her about Jasmine’s relationship with various colleagues. It was an awkward conversation. As the officer moved farther into the room, Casey saw Corporal Lundy follow him inside.

  “What brings you two here?” Marie asked.

  “We’d like to speak with Mr. Merryweather,” the officer replied.

  “Forget it, this day’s about Jasmine.”

  “I’m sorry, but we wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”

  “Give me a bloody break.”

  “It’s just a few questions, ma’am.” The officer gave her a cold stare.

  Casey doubted anyone could make them leave until they’d done what they came to do. As the officers headed toward Noel, guests cleared a path for them.

  Lundy nodded when he noticed Casey. “Miss Holland.”

  “Corporal.”

  In a firm, quiet tone, Lundy said, “Mr. Merryweather, may we have a private word?”

  Noel attempted a smile. “Let’s talk out back.”

  “No!” Marie rushed to his side. “You don’t have to do this now.”

  Noel clasped her hand. “It’s okay.” He turned to Casey, “I hope I’ll see you again.”

  “Me too.” Lord, they weren’t going to take him in for questioning at a funeral reception, were they?

  Roberto opened the door for Noel and two German shepherds charged out of the kitchen, followed by Jasmine’s cocker spaniel, Belle. The crowded room erupted with barks and surprised exclamations as guests struggled to keep their cups and paper plates upright.

  Roberto tried to grab one of the shepherds. “When’s the last time you fed them, Marie?”

  Marie’s face was filled with anguish as she watched the officers follow Noel into the kitchen. It took a couple of minutes for people to corral the excited shepherds. Casey tried to rescue Belle who was under the table and turning in circles. Huge brown eyes looked up at Casey as if pleading for help. Once she’d coaxed the dog out, she headed for the kitchen. If the cops didn’t like the intrusion, too bad.

  No one was in the kitchen, but Casey heard voices outside. Paval and the German shepherds entered the room, followed by Marie. Marie rushed to the back door and peered out the window while Paval left the room.

  When Marie turned to around her freckled cheeks were scarlet. “Can’t those idiots see he’s being framed?”

  Casey didn’t know what to say. “Aside from the van, what else do they have on your brother?”

  Tears filled Marie’s eyes as she shrugged. When she sat down, the shepherds padded up to her. One of them whimpered while the other nuzzled her hand. Belle curled up under the kitchen table.

  “Marie, does Noel own a gun?”

  “No, he hates firearms. He does live less than ten minutes from Jasmine’s place.”

  Casey approached the window overlooking the yard. The officers were accompanying Noel to a police van.

  “All the evidence is circumstantial.” Marie smacked the table. “They have to see that!”

  Casey turned around. “What do you mean by all?”

  Marie hesitated. “They found Jasmine’s blood on the driver’s door of his van.”

  Not good. “Where did they find the van?”

  “At a park near Noel’s house.” She wiped away her tears with her hands.

  “I gather he has no alibi for the morning of the murder?”

  “If he did, the cops wouldn’t bloody be here, would they?”

  Since Marie was upset, Casey overlooked the surliness. She wanted to ask what Noel was doing at the time of the murder, but the question wouldn’t be appreciated.

  Paval poked his head into the room. “Sorry to intrude, Marie, but I thought you should know that people are starting to leave.”

  “Thanks.”

  Casey followed her into the living room, where subdued colleagues hugged Marie and murmured goodbye. Casey couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. She couldn’t make Marie feel better, but she could at least help clean up. Casey started with the food Birch had dumped on the floor.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Marie said after the last person had left.

  “I don’t mind. Housework helps with stress; so does yoga, but I figured you’d rather see me clearing plates than doing strange poses. Besides, I want to hear how you plan to prove Birch’s guilt.”

  Marie picked up coffee cups. “I’ll figure something out.”

  Casey wiped food off the floor with serviettes. “What if he really is innocent?”

  “I’ll check out the names on those business cards Jasmine collected. It’s possible that one of her dance partners was some psycho who got the wrong idea about her. I should look into Eisler’s activities as well.” She headed for the kitchen. “I can’t believe Roberto or Wesley would kill her.”

  “Me neither.” Casey followed her. “Still, people are capable of anything, if provoked enough.”

  “Jasmine wouldn’t provoke anyone to the point of murder, unless they were psychos to begin with.”

  Was she kidding? The day before Jasmine died, she’d provoked twelve-year-olds into wanting to beat her up.

  “Jasmine might not have been killed by her ex, or by a man at all,” Casey said. “Maybe the killer was the jealous girlfriend of someone Jasmine was seeing.”

  Marie began loading the dishwasher. “I wonder if Birch owns a handgun.”

  Casey sighed and shook her head.

  EIGHT

  “SEE, CASEY, ALL IT TAKES is a little patience.” Lou sat on the cushioned window seat in her living room and stroked the guinea pig in his arms. “T
hey’re real friendly when you give them a chance.”

  Since the most recent bite on her finger still stung, Casey had her doubts. “There might not be many more chances. Marie’s dropping by any minute, so maybe she’s found homes for them.”

  “You said she sounded upset on the phone.”

  “Yeah, but that’s normal for her these days.”

  With any luck, the visit would be short. Summer was at her weekly Sunday brunch with her grandmother, and Lou, having stayed the night, would be leaving soon. All the activity and extra shifts since Jasmine’s death had put Casey seriously behind on homework. She glanced at the library books and research notes on the kitchen table.

  The intercom rang. Seconds later she was telling Marie she’d be right down.

  “I should go too.” Lou returned the guinea pig to its cage, then zipped up his hoodie.

  This was one of those times when Casey didn’t mind having to go downstairs to let visitors in. She hated the idea of Marie finding her way up here and invading her refuge. On her way down, Casey heard Summer’s golden retriever bark from what sounded like the kitchen. When she and Lou reached the ground floor, Cheyenne jogged down the hall toward them, wagging her tail. Rhonda had promised Summer a dog for her birthday a few weeks back. During a trip to the SPCA, Summer fell in love with a four-year-old golden retriever. She’d made a good choice, though living with a dog still took some adjusting.

  Casey opened the door and stared at Marie’s nervous, blotchy face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything.” Her voice trembled. “Someone fired a bullet through my son’s bedroom window.”

  “Oh, no!” How could someone do that to a twelve-year-old? “Is he all right?”

  “Yeah, Kyle wasn’t hit, but he’s still shaken.” Marie stepped into the foyer. One look at Lou and her mouth fell open. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “I usually am,” he replied. “Where did the bullet land?”

  “In the wall above his head.” She wrung her hands together. “It happened at three this morning. The breaking glass woke Kyle, and he was still dazed when he came to my room. He wasn’t even sure what had happened.”

  “The poor kid,” Casey said.

  Cheyenne, who’d been sitting quietly, lifted a paw to Marie who gently shook it.

  “He was telling me about the glass on the floor when a bullet hit my window.” Her eyes glistened. “I pulled Kyle onto the floor and waited. God, he could have been . . .” She knelt down and started to stroke Cheyenne, but lost her balance and landed on her butt.

  Casey and Lou helped Marie to her feet.

  “Sorry. Still shaky, I guess.”

  They ushered her to the sofa in Rhonda’s living room. Casey sat beside her, grateful that Lou did the same. She wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with Marie alone.

  “At least the girls weren’t targeted. Their room’s across the hall. Kyle’s window is next to mine.” Marie grasped Lou’s hand. “Before I could call the cops, the phone rang, and a whispered voice told me to stop investigating Jasmine’s murder or the bullets would hit my kids next.” She slumped against his shoulder.

  “I take it the cops haven’t found the shooter?” Casey asked, watching Lou free himself from Marie’s grasp.

  “No.” She straightened up. “The kids are at staying my mom’s until the shooter’s caught. I think it was Birch. The asshole must have found out that I’ve been checking into his alibi.”

  Cheyenne settled on the floor by Casey’s feet. In a way, she was glad Marie was investigating on her brother’s behalf. The cops’ interest in Noel was troubling; using his own vehicle to murder someone mid-morning and abandoning it near his house was too stupid to believe. On the other hand, angry people did stupid things. Had Noel been angry with Jasmine about something?

  “I talked to a couple of retired folks on Birch’s mail route,” Marie said. “They saw him at ten in the morning on the twenty-eighth, but so far I haven’t found anyone who saw him at ten past eleven, when Jasmine was shot.”

  “I wonder if the bullets in your house came from the gun that killed Jasmine,” Casey said.

  “They couldn’t have.” Marie wrung her hands together. “They found a handgun under a bush near Noel’s place the day after the murder. No word yet on whether it’s the murder weapon.”

  Casey glanced at Lou. Marie hadn’t told her this at the reception on Wednesday.

  “Birch is trying to destroy my brother’s life because Noel caught him stalking her a couple of times and told him to get lost.”

  “You think Birch took a break from delivering the mail to shoot his ex-wife?” Casey asked. “Then planted the gun and abandoned the van he stole the previous night?”

  “Absolutely. He could have hidden Noel’s van by the church and dumped it near his own car after the shooting. Traffic wouldn’t have been heavy at that time of day, and he could have thrown a jacket over his uniform. The whole thing probably took less than twenty minutes.”

  Lou crossed his arms. “It would have required a hell of a lot of luck, what with traffic and potential witnesses.”

  “Maybe someone did see something, only we haven’t found that person yet, which is why I’m here.” Marie turned to Casey. “I need your help clearing my brother’s name.”

  “He hasn’t been charged with anything, though.”

  “I know that, but they’ve questioned him twice now. I have a horrible feeling that it’s only a matter of time.”

  Casey frowned. “How do you know?”

  Marie gave her an impatient look. “You’re not the only one who knows people in the police department. Anyway, we really need your help.”

  Alarm ricocheted through her. A loud knock on the door offered a quick escape. Casey left the room, opened the door, and saw David Eisler jiggling car keys in his hand. What the hell was Mainland’s VP doing here? How did he even know where she lived?

  “I apologize for not calling first, but I was in the area.” His Adam’s apple bounced up and down. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  He couldn’t do it at work? “Come in.” She led him into the living room, where Marie was leaning close to Lou and murmuring something undecipherable. “We have a guest.”

  As Eisler entered the room, Marie and Lou’s expressions froze. Surprise and displeasure flickered across Eisler’s face. Cheyenne wagged her tail and sniffed Eisler’s pant leg. Eisler looked at the dog with disdain and edged away.

  Casey said, “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded to Lou and Marie and sat without letting his back touch the chair. “I apologize for not attending Jasmine’s funeral.” His tan developed a reddish hue. “I heard it was a nice service.”

  “It was,” Marie said, scrutinizing him.

  Eisler lowered his head. Casey caught Lou’s puzzled face and returned a haven’t-got-a-clue expression.

  “I’m looking after some of Jasmine’s pets,” Casey said. “Would you like to adopt a hamster, gerbil, or guinea pig?”

  “My wife’s not an animal person.” He glanced at Cheyenne who had again settled down. “She’s at a tennis tournament near here, so I thought I’d pop by to ask you where Jasmine is buried.” He paused. “I’d like to send a wreath.”

  “She’s in Parksville, where her mother lives,” Marie answered, and gave him the name of the cemetery.

  “Thanks.” Eisler cleared his throat. “I was shocked to hear about your brother’s arrest.”

  “He’s not been arrested, just questioned,” she answered, glancing at Casey.

  “Yes, well, I understand that Jasmine associated with volatile people,” Eisler remarked. “Apparently, one of them is a Mainland driver.”

  “Are you talking about Wesley Axelson?” Marie asked.

  “I can’t say, but since you’ve mentioned his name, I have seen the gun rack in his truck. Presumably, he has access to firearms.”

  Casey noticed Lou’s disapproving frown. He and Wesley weren’t buddies
, but they’d worked together a long time and Wesley’s integrity had never been questioned.

  “Jasmine was shot with a handgun,” Lou said. “You don’t need a gun rack for that.”

  “Wes and Jasmine were good friends,” Marie said. “There were no problems between them.” She looked at Casey. “After last night’s scare, I have to stop searching for proof that Birch did it, which is why I need your help.”

  “What scare?” Eisler asked.

  As Marie filled him in, Casey wondered if blabbing everything was a smart move. Marie might be targeting Elliott Birch, but Casey’s suspicions were broader.

  “Noel’s taken some friends’ advice and hired a lawyer, but it’s really expensive. Neither of us can afford a private investigator. Now that his van is crime scene evidence, he doesn’t have a vehicle and can only afford to rent one for a week.” Marie turned to Casey. “After that he’ll be pretty much housebound, so I was wondering if you’d talk to the people I couldn’t get to on Birch’s mail route.”

  “You shouldn’t ask her to get involved,” Eisler said as he rose. “MPT staff have no business investigating the murder of a colleague.” Eisler headed for the hallway. “Thanks for your time, Miss Holland.”

  Casey followed him out of the room. The guy had a point. On the other hand, what if he’d killed Jasmine and didn’t want the truth coming out?

  At the front door Eisler said, “Don’t let Marie bully you. She’s not thinking rationally.”

  “I know.” That wasn’t the problem: it was the guilt she’d feel for turning her down.

  Eisler lowered his voice. “What if her brother really is guilty? Think about it. The police aren’t fools.”

  “I realize that, and thanks for coming by.”

  When Casey returned to the living room, Marie was running her hand over the sofa cushion. “You could help and watch out for Casey at the same time. No one would have to know about your involvement, Lou. It’d be our secret.”

  Lou stood and gave Casey a hug. She didn’t know why, except maybe to prove something to Marie.