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“Well, it’s not for sure yet. My periods don’t exactly run like clockwork.”
“They sell those tests here, don’t they?” He indicated the grocery store.
“They have a pharmacy department.” She reached for her door handle and looked back, an anxious smile touching the corners of her mouth. “What if it’s true?”
“What if it is,” he replied, smiling, and Becca, full of emotion, slid back across the seat and hugged and kissed him for all she was worth until she felt his chest rumble with laughter and his arms squeeze her back hard.
Scott Pascal’s interrogation was taking place in a bare narrow room with two rectangular tables surrounded by eight metal chairs. As expected, Pascal had lawyered up. Mac and Gretchen had arrived at the station, half expecting the interview to be over, but Pascal’s lawyer had been delayed, so they got to witness the full proceedings from behind the two-way glass window. The invitation had been extended because their case was linked to the arson/homicide at the restaurant. An assistant DA and another officer rounded out their group of four as they watched the interrogation which, of course, was also being recorded.
The guy was sweating, looking nervous and continuously listening to his lawyer before answering. But he was having trouble explaining why his car had been spotted parked in a shopping center lot three blocks away, courtesy of a security camera, during the time of the explosion. Another traffic camera had caught Scott nearly running a red light, and an employee who had left her car at Blue Note to have some drinks with a friend had come forward saying she’d seen Scott enter through the kitchen as she was driving away. The fact that the fire inspector had claimed the fire was caused by arson only added to Pascal’s troubles.
The fucker was nailed.
He knew it.
The cops knew it.
And his tight-assed lawyer knew it.
When the evidence was laid in front of him, Scott collapsed and put his head on the table.
“If I could have a minute alone with my client,” the lawyer said.
On their side of the glass, the ADA, a sharp-dressed black man with clipped hair and rimless glasses, nodded. “He’s gonna want to cop a plea.”
“About time,” McNally said. Finally a break in the case. “When he does, see what he knows. He set the fire and killed his partner. I want to know about the other dead bodies. I think he killed Mitch Bellotti to keep him from talking.”
“We’ve got it covered,” the ADA said, “and we’ll find out if he knows anything about the Jezebel Brentwood case.”
Mac doubted that Pascal would admit to killing the girl, but it was a start.
Finally, the case was pulling together. Except for Renee Trudeau. Pascal had been in Portland on the day her Camry had been forced through the guardrail and off the cliff into the Pacific Ocean.
But he could have an accomplice. Or, as Mac was coming to suspect, there might be a second killer.
From inside the room, Scott’s lawyer said, “I want to talk to the DA. My client is willing to tell you everything he knows, but in consideration for his testimony-”
“-confession,” one of the officers corrected.
“-Mr. Pascal would like to know what he can expect.”
“He wants a deal,” one of the officers said and looked into the glass.
“Okay, showtime.” The ADA walked out of the observation room, and in the next few minutes, Scott, assured he’d not get the death penalty, admitted that he’d set the fire at Blue Note and also killed Mitch Bellotti.
“I knew it. That son of a bitch,” Mac whispered, watching as Scott, sweating and holding out his hands as if anyone with half a brain would understand his reasoning, explained.
“The restaurant was hemorrhaging money. Blue Note couldn’t be saved and Glenn, he wouldn’t believe it.”
“Because you were cooking the books. And taking some of that money to the casino in Lincoln City. We found those records, too,” the officer said, and the wind seemed to go out of Pascal’s sails. “You’d better be straight with us, Pascal, or all deals are off.”
“Okay, okay, so I ‘borrowed’ a little of the company funds. It wasn’t a lot. Jesus Christ, I owned the damned thing. I was the brains behind the business. Glenn with all his marital woes was useless.” He was red in the face, angry all over again.
“So you decided to off him.”
“No…not really. I was just going to burn the place down. I didn’t know Glenn was inside. That was a pure accident.”
“That accident sure worked out for you,” the officer said. “No more Glenn Stafford to worry about.”
