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Greg stared at Paul and laughed. “I guess he does.”
“He has gone into detail about each murder except the first one. In my experience, serial killers never forget the first life they took. They remember it, and try to better it. Why doesn’t Paul Lewis remember?” Coulter shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Then go and ask him.” Greg shrugged when Coulter met his eyes. “He’s talking, regardless as to what his lawyer has advised. It’s as though he has no secrets, so ask and see what he says—how he reacts.”
Coulter turned his gaze back to the two-way glass wondering what was really going on in the head of Paul Lewis.
“I’ll stay and watch,” Greg commented, and probably used it as his way of telling him he didn’t have all day.
Coulter nodded and walked from the room. He took a minute to himself in the hallway and ran a hand down his face, exhausted. The case had kept him awake at night because something niggled at his conscience but what was the big question.
He glanced at the door and before he could have second thoughts, he pushed his way inside.
Paul Lewis sat straighter in the chair when he saw him, but the man’s lawyer frowned and whispered something to Paul, who ignored whatever was said.
“Detective,” Paul started. “I was told that I wouldn’t see you again so this is a nice surprise.” He moved around on his chair as though he was excited.
That word again.
“I wanted to go over some questions with you.” Coulter took the chair across from them, and his frown deepened when he glanced at Paul who eagerly awaited the questions.
Coulter sat back in the chair and held Paul’s gaze. “Tell me why the college girls were killed one way, and Fern and Tracy another...and what I can’t understand is why you have no recollection of your first killing—that doesn’t normally happen with a serial killer.” He’d leave Jocelyn and Saige out of it for now.
Without a pause to think, Paul answered, “I was rushed and drunk with the first girl. That memory isn’t really there. Fern though, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t intend to kill anyone else, but she caught me sneaking around outside of Alex’s building. She threatened to scream and would have given me away. So I silenced her...It felt good to silence her.” Paul grinned and then looked sad just as quickly.
He continued, “I really didn’t want to hurt Tracy, but she followed me one night and saw me digging up the jewelry box, which I buried after I put the trinket from Fern inside. After I left she went and dug it up to see what it was.” He looked remorseful for once. “I knew someone had been around, messing with my things...and then Tracy acted weird around me, and I just knew. I went to her house that night when Alex was there and heard her tell him that she knew who had taken Saige.” Paul glanced at his lawyer, who looked exasperated with him.
“Paul, what else?” Coulter prodded.
“I had to keep her quiet, so I took her out into the woods and killed her. She fought me though. Made me angry. I didn’t want to hurt Tracy, but I couldn’t stop...I’m sorry.”
Coulter rubbed his brow and couldn’t find any hesitation in Paul’s answers—nothing that raised a red flag saying that he lied.
“What about Jocelyn? You said that you loved her.”
“Detective Robinson,” the lawyer said, annoyance in his voice, “my client has been asked these questions over and over again. I know that’s the norm but he’s already been charged. You have the evidence and you have his signed confession.”
Coulter ground his teeth together to keep his mouth shut until he could talk without his own annoyance showing.
“We will continue to ask your client questions until we are satisfied with the answers.” Coulter proceeded to look at Paul. “Jocelyn?”
Paul stayed silent and stared at his hands on the table. “I thought she loved me. She didn’t.” His voice hardened. “She was going to betray me. Once Quinten had been sentenced to death, she had second thoughts and was going to tell you that Quinten was innocent and that it was me. I didn’t believe her at first, but as she started to walk away from me, I realized she would tell you. I was angry and upset so I struck out and attacked her. She begged me not to hurt her, but I did. She was like all the others...a whore.”
Over the many years that he’d been a detective, Coulter had seen and heard things that would give others nightmares, and in all that time he’d never met anyone like Paul Lewis before.
“Your truck, Detective,” Paul added, which got Coulter’s attention. “At first, I didn’t want you showing up in Port Jude, which I knew you would at some stage because the warrant had been signed by the governor. I knew you’d show up asking questions. I was stupid with the bomb, and inept as it turned out, for which I’m grateful because it was premature of me when you’re the one I expected to get Quinten out of prison. I knew he wasn’t guilty, but I figured everyone was safe as long as he was in prison. I didn’t want him to die though. That would be wrong.”
Coulter was tired of Paul and the case. He needed some fresh air, and Amber, to clear his head.
He stood and shoved his chair under the table. “Why, Paul? Why kill those women within hours after they’d been with Alex?” That was one thing that had been on his mind.
Paul looked up and held his gaze. “Because Alex is the evil brother...not Quinten. I wanted to lead you to him but you never once thought that he killed anyone. I must have done something wrong to set him up, huh? I won’t make that mistake again.”
Coulter left and sagged against the wall outside of the room. Paul Lewis wouldn’t get a next time. He was totally, utterly crazy.
Day 21
3:00pm
