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Zach’s fists curled. “After that last confession, you expect me to trust you?”
The sound of sirens wailing was closer but Eunice didn’t seem to notice. “I didn’t even know where she was.”
“But you admitted to having her kidnap London. Paid her off.” Zach grabbed Adria’s purse from her arm and poured the contents on the table. Lipstick, brush, wallet, keys and letters fell out—duplicates of the notes she’d given to the police. Stabbing a finger at one of the ugly notes, Zach said,” You sent these.”
Eunice stared at the items and a tic developed under her eye as Zach, furious, added, “You also dropped off a dead rat at her hotel room.”
The twitch quickened. Eunice twisted her hands together. Her eyes seemed to glaze.
“And you tore up Adria’s bedsheets and her panties.”
“No…Kat’s bedsheets…Kat’s panties…”
“Not Kat. Adria. London.”
“The same thing,” she said, nostrils flaring as if she’d suddenly noticed a bad smell. “Kat…London…”
“Not at all.”
She held out her hands in supplication and to Adria she seemed suddenly pathetic, an older woman, but not weak. One strong enough to have pinned her to the ground and tried to kill her, a twisted person who could kill a rat and drain its blood, a maniac who could destroy a room, shred clothing, smear a mirror with blood.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of you two together, Zach. Not with Kat. Not Kat…” Her voice cracked and she blinked…as if clearing her head. She wrapped her arms around her middle and started to rock. “I mean, not with London…not with Kat…I couldn’t let that happen…I had no choice.”
“No choice?” Adria repeated, suddenly repulsed. “No choice but to try and kill me?” Who was this woman? A mother. A socialite. A murderer. She took a step away as Zach zeroed in on the woman who had borne him.
“Everyone has a choice, Eunice.” He turned away from her.
“It’s not that easy.” She sniffed, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her velour jacket.
“Sure it is. You made it hard. By trying to kill Adria and when you got hurt, you told Nelson you got hurt by falling when you were chasing the cat. Christ, you’re something. And you expect me to believe you didn’t follow us to San Francisco and kill Ginny?”
She hesitated. “I have an alibi.”
“Convenient. Who?”
She let out her breath and her shoulder’s slumped slightly. She dabbed at her nose with a tissue she’d found in her pocket. “Nelson. On the night Ginny was killed he was here with me.”
“For crying out loud, don’t you think I know he’d lie for you?”
“Possibly, but he doesn’t have to. I was h
ere, Zach, in Lake Oswego when Ginny was murdered.”
“I don’t trust Nelson.”
“Then trust his friend.” She lifted her chin and met Zach’s condemning stare. “Nelson was with someone the night he was here. They didn’t stay all night, of course, because I’m not supposed to know that Tom is Nelson’s lover, but they stopped by for a few hours—just old pals, you know—and we had dinner and played cards. If you don’t believe me or your brother, ask Tom.”
The sirens sounded so close, they screamed through the house.
“You’ll have to tell the police and maybe they’ll buy it, but I don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Of course it does,” he said, then seemed to notice the weird smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Wait a minute…”
“It’s over, Zach.”
“What do you mean? Over?” His gaze shot to the teacup. “What have you done?”
