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“I didn’t! I couldn’t! It was someone else. Someone evil. Renee was right. Jessie thought someone was after her. Hunting her down. She’d been to the beach looking up her past. And this…thing…found her!”
“Trouble,” Becca said.
“Go ahead and make up stories.” The Third got up from his chair and glared at Vangie. “All this mystic crap. You killed her. You hunted her down and killed her because she was pregnant with Zeke’s baby.”
“Zeke,” Evangeline pleaded. “Tell them it’s not true.” Her cheeks were wet with tears.
“I found the envelopes in the shredder, Vangie. Blue strips where you shredded the evidence. I saved them for the police.”
“What?” She backed away from him, her hands slowly letting go, her face a mask of horror.
“McNally guessed. When he told me that my DNA matched the baby’s, he also as good as said you sent the notes. He knows, Vangie.”
“Then why hasn’t he picked her up?” Scott demanded.
“Because I don’t think she killed Jessie.”
“I didn’t.” A ray of hope entered her voice.
“She sent the notes. She was afraid I’d killed Jessie. But Jessie’s death, I don’t know. And Glenn and Renee and Mitch…” Zeke closed his eyes and wearily shook his head. When Evangeline tried to embrace him again, he jerked away as if burned. “We’re done, Vangie.”
“Okay, okay. I believe Jessie’s dead. And I sent the notes-but it wasn’t because I thought you killed her. I just wanted the investigation to leave us alone. I love you, Zeke,” she implored. “So much.”
He gazed at her a bit helplessly. “But I don’t love you. I never really did.”
Chapter Twenty
“She went to a helluva lot of work,” Mac observed, turning over the nursery rhyme note with Hudson’s name on it that Becca and Hudson had brought in. He pulled out the one he already had in his possession from Mitch and looked at them side by side.
Becca sensed the detective wasn’t quite taking them seriously and she sent Hudson a “what gives?” look, but Hudson’s gaze was glued to McNally. It had been three days since Mitch’s death and the scene at Becca’s condo. She and Hudson had wondered when Zeke and Evangeline would contact the police, but when Mac called up and politely asked them if they could meet again, they’d said
they would join him at the Laurelton station. McNally had assured them it was just an informal discussion, so Hudson and Becca had decided to preempt Zeke and Evangeline in the interest of keeping the investigation moving forward into Renee’s accident.
The woman detective appeared from an inner door carrying four paper cups of coffee. She handed them around, then stood back from the proceedings.
“Thanks,” McNally told her.
She shrugged a response.
“Zeke said you probably already knew who sent the notes,” Hudson said. “Sounds like you led him to that conclusion.”
Mac inclined his head. “I thought it was a woman. And when Zeke’s DNA came through, the possibility seemed to be there.”
“You obviously don’t think Evangeline’s a killer or you would have picked her up,” Hudson observed.
“We got somebody else in mind,” Gretchen couldn’t help saying.
Mac felt his temper rise but he held it inside. He’d confided what he’d learned from the Portland PD to Gretchen, but she still had those “jump in too soon” tendencies that drove him nuts.
“Who?” Hudson asked. Both detectives hesitated, which pissed him off. “If you have any information on who killed my sister, I want to know.”
“We’re looking into the arson/homicide at Blue Note,” Mac said. “One of your group has been picked up for questioning in Portland.”
“Who?” Hudson asked.
“Scott Pascal.”
Becca nearly sloshed her coffee from her cup. “What?”
