“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?”
“Scott was Glenn’s business partner,” Hudson said.
“Their businesses were running in the red. Portland PD has evidence he was in the area that night. We think he set the fire.”
“But he and Glenn were friends!” Becca protested.
“Money does strange things to people,” Mac said.
“He ever involved with your sister?” the woman detective asked Hudson.
“No.”
“Didn’t have a thing for her? Wouldn’t want to see her dead?”
Becca gasped.
“No!” A vein throbbed in Walker’s throat, his anger palpable.
Mac shot Gretchen a quelling look, then said, “I plan to give the Portland PD any and all information I can on why Scott Pascal would kill Glenn Stafford, Renee Trudeau, and Mitch Bellotti. That’s why I asked to meet with you. Can you think of any connection we’re missing?”
Becca and Hudson looked at each other, then at Mac.
“Mitch was harmless,” Becca said.
“Maybe not, if Stafford told Bellotti he thought Scott Pascal was an embezzler. And then Bellotti put two and two together and figured Pascal had more to gain by burning the place down than trying to keep it afloat.”
“He wouldn’t have killed Glenn.” Becca was certain.
“That could’ve been a mistake. If Pascal thought he could control Stafford once the place was gone, he may not have meant to kill him.”
“What about Renee?” Walker asked, his expression dark.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Mac said on a sigh.
“She was not involved with Scott.”
“They both went to the beach a lot.”
“For work,” Hudson pointed out.
“And maybe a little afternoon delight,” the woman detective said.
McNally’s desk phone rang and he hesitated a moment before picking up. Everyone sat tensely as the detective listened, answering in near monosyllables. When he hung up, he said, “Thank you for coming in.”
“That’s it?” Hudson asked.
“For the moment.”
“You’re wrong about my sister and Scott,” he said as he and Becca shrugged into their coats and headed for the door.
Mac didn’t answer as he watched them leave. Gretchen lifted her brows at him after they were gone.
“We’ve been invited
