Casey hadn’t heard any of this. “Is Jeremy in danger?”
“Good question. Jasmine said Birch was always good with him, but when he drinks he’s out of control. The jerk beat Jasmine; that’s why she left.”
“I had no idea,” Casey murmured.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Paval remarked. “I’ve seen him standing outside her apartment shouting obscenities.”
“The bastard was seeking joint custody.” Marie removed a tissue from her pocket. “Birch was so pissed with Jasmine for not allowing him more time with Jeremy that I really think he could have . . .” Her voice trailed away.
The toddlers, a girl and a boy, started fighting over a toy phone. When the little girl lost the battle, Paval picked her up and murmured soothing words.
“How’s Noel coping?” Paval asked Marie.
“Barely.” She stroked Belle once again. “The cops came to his house. I gather it didn’t go well.”
Lou mentioned that Marie’s brother had gone out with Jasmine. If the police were paying more attention to Noel than they were to Jasmine’s ex, Casey figured there had to be a reason. So, why was the manager asking personal questions?
“I take it you two know each other?” Casey looked from him to Marie.
“I was over here a lot,” Marie replied.
“As was Noel,” Paval added. “Getting to know the regular visitors makes it easier to figure out who should and shouldn’t be in the building.” He placed the little girl on the sofa and gave her a teddy bear as he glanced at Marie. “Do they really think he’d use his own van in a shooting?”
“They shouldn’t, given that Noel reported it stolen the night before.” Marie frowned. “Birch was stalking Jasmine, so he probably knew what Noel drives. He could have rented one to practise driving. Anyway, I heard that the cops have a description of the driver: dark jacket, royal blue ball cap, and sunglasses.”
Which fit half a million guys in the Lower Mainland, Casey thought, and why would someone have to practise driving a van?
A thirty-something woman in a lime bathrobe and matching slippers shuffled down the hallway toward them. When she reached the living room, she squinted at everyone through smudged eyeliner, then yawned without bothering to cover her mouth. Judging from the size of her abdomen, she looked about seven months pregnant.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Paval turned to Casey. “This is my wife, Ursula.”
“Hi,” Casey said, noticing that Marie kept her gaze on the dog.
“Mmm.” The woman headed for the kitchen.
“Ursula’s a waitress,” Paval said, “and working late shifts this week. She’ll come alive after a mug of java.”
Casey was amazed the woman could sleep with all these kids around. She watched the little girl wriggle off the sofa.
Paval removed a key from one of three dozen hooks near the door. “The police are finished with Jasmine’s apartment.” He handed the key to Marie. “Thanks for taking the animals. Birch and that awful half sister wouldn’t have helped.”
“Half sister?” Casey asked.
“Gabrielle O’Reilly,” Paval answered. “She and Jasmine had the same birth mother, who lives in Parksville. Anyway, Gabrielle came to our door Sunday afternoon, looking for Jasmine. I had Jeremy with me, so I showed him to her. She barely looked at the boy. It was the coldest thing I ever saw.”
“Where does this half sister live?” Casey asked.
“Also in Parksville.”
“It’s a three- to four-hour trip from Parksville to here, and ferries aren’t cheap,” Casey said. “The lady must have a good reason for coming to see Jasmine.”
“Bull,” Marie blurted. “She said she was Hannah’s real daughter, and that Jasmine had better stay out of Hannah’s life, if she knew what was good for her. Jasmine told her to go to hell.”
“There’s no way Jasmine would have backed down,” Paval remarked. “After her adopted parents died, she started looking for her birth mother, and found her in July. She was so excited, I think she told everyone she met that day. It’s too bad they never got a chance to meet face to face.” Paval shook his head. “The poor woman had a stroke one week after Jasmine made contact with her.”
For a landlord, the guy sure knew a lot about Jasmine’s personal life. Had they been friends, or was he into gossip?
“I heard that Jasmine had been stressed lately,” Casey said, turning to Marie. “Was Gabrielle the reason?” “I don’t know. She called me from work Tuesday and told me about that horrible shift you two had. She said she’d tell me something else later.” Tears filled Marie’s eyes. “That was the last time we talked.”
Casey remembered that call. She was tempted to ask who Jasmine had plans with that night when Ursula reappeared, carrying an oversized coffee mug, a cigarette, and an ashtray.
She stared at Marie. “You’re Jasmine’s friend.”
“Uh-huh.”
Casey noticed Marie’s tightening jaw, the way her lips pursed when something, or someone, displeased her.
“This is Casey,” Paval said to Ursula. “She works with Marie and Jasmine.”
Ursula plunked onto the sofa, put her things down, and then tied her blond streaks back into a ponytail. “Working with Jasmine couldn’t have been easy.”
“Ursula,” Paval murmured.
“What? All I’m saying is that she could be quite the snob and smart mouth, which really put some people off.”
Had Ursula experienced Jasmine’s vicious side? Casey noticed the way Marie glared at Ursula, who was too busy lighting her cigarette to notice.
“Uh, darling?” Paval said, glancing at the smoke. “Remember what the doctor said.”
“Just one this morning, one this afternoon, and one tonight, okay?” Ursula replied. “I’m trying, Pav.”
“I know it’s hard.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but turned to Casey instead. “We’re expecting a baby in four months.”
“Congratulations,” Casey said.
When the toddlers began fighting over a stuffed koala bear, Casey headed for the door, hoping Marie would take the hint and leave.
“If you need to hear something nice about Jasmine,” Ursula said, “she was a good dancer. Always had willing partners at the Silver Groove.”
“What’s the Silver Groove?” Casey asked.
“A funky new retro club that plays disco,” she replied. “Dancing’s the only kind of exercise I like.” She watched Paval referee the feuding toddlers. “Paval’s favorite is housework and babysitting.” The doorbell rang. “And chatting with losers.”
Paval winked at his wife as he went to answer it.
“Jasmine collected business cards from her one-night stands,” Ursula continued. “I saw them when we were feeding her animals. Probably repeat customers.”
“Jasmine’s dead, for god’s sake,” Marie said. “Show some respect.”
“Who are you to tell me how to act in my own home?” Ursula took a long drag on her cigarette.
Paval shut the door. “Idiot.” He waved a check at Ursula. “It’s only half. Says he’ll pay the rest next week.”
“Kick him out if he doesn’t.”
“Do you personally know any of these alleged one-night stands?” Marie asked Ursula. “One of them could be a killer.”
“Or not.” Above Ursula’s head, the smoke ring looked like a dissolving halo.
“We should get going.” Casey picked up the cages. “Marie has a ton of things to do.”
Marie opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Belle followed. Paval grabbed the leash hanging on the back of the door and attached it to the spaniel’s collar.