“The psycho likes to stalk and taunt. Whenever I saw him by Jasmine’s balcony, I called the cops, but he always took off before they got there.” Anger darkened Paval’s face. “Maybe he’s playing games with Marie because she didn’t want to give Jeremy back.”
“I take it you were good friends with Jasmine?”
“I am with most of the parents in our building. We’ve only had one tenant leave since we took over a year ago. When you offer people respect and friendship, they stay loyal. Jasmine was a great gal.”
Casey focused on her plate so Paval wouldn’t see her guilt. She hadn’t shed many tears at the service, and she felt as out of place now as she had last week in the lunchroom. The peace and closure she’d hoped for hadn’t happened.
“Do you know how the investigation’s coming along?” Paval asked.
“No, the police have asked staff so many questions that no one wants to talk about it anymore.”
“Birch should be their main suspect.”
Better him than Mainland staff, Casey thought. After Roberto and Wesley were interviewed twice, employees started wondering if those who’d been closest to Jasmine were under suspicion. People had begun taking sides. In eight days, the laid-back, chatty work environment she’d enjoyed was now filled with suspicion and silence. Friendly expressions had grown furtive; greetings were reduced to half-hearted murmurs. She glared at Birch as he checked out the women while stuffing his face with cocktail sausages.
“Some people think Birch paid a coworker with his height and build to do his mail route the day Jasmine was shot,” Paval said.
Casey had heard this as well, and didn’t buy it. “Wouldn’t someone at work or on his route have noticed the difference?”
“Maybe Birch bought their silence. What if he stole Noel’s van the night before, hid it somewhere on his route, and then used it to kill Jasmine the next morning?”
“How would he know she’d arrive early to pick up Jeremy?”
“He could have been stalking her again; waiting for an opportunity.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Marie charged toward Birch.
“Trying to figure out which one of you killed my wife.”
Casey and Paval exchanged pensive glances. Conversations stopped.
“As far as I’m concerned, you did, you abusive freak,” Marie said.
Casey cringed. Why couldn’t she just ask him to leave and be done with it?
“I’ve got witnesses who’ll prove I didn’t shoot her,” Birch said. “If I had something to hide, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Get out!” Marie shouted.
Birch threw his half-filled plate onto the hardwood floor and started for the door.
“I know you did it,” she called out.
“Marie, stop,” a deep, unfamiliar voice called from behind a group of people.
Marie moved closer to Birch. Casey held her breath. The woman was far too emotional to think clearly. Casey put her plate on the table and headed for Marie. Stan and Roberto got there first. Each man reached for her arms.
“He’s not worth it,” Roberto said to Marie.
“Jasmine told me your delivery route’s only a five-minute drive from her parish.” Marie glowered at Birch. “You knew when and where she took Jeremy to preschool.”
“Keep this up and you’ll regret it, bitch.” He flung the door open.
“You were stalking Jasmine!” She turned to her guests. “Jasmine saw him outside Noel’s house one night.”
Birch charged outside, and Marie slammed the door. “I know he shot her, I just don’t know how he pulled it off.”
A few people nodded, but Casey noticed that most of them looked uncomfortable. When would Marie learn to think before she opened her mouth? Declaring war on this guy wasn’t smart.
“Marie?” Stan said. “Let’s talk a sec.”
Casey spotted Wesley Axelson near the staircase opposite the front door. She’d worked with Wesley twice on the rockhound assignment since Jasmine’s death, but he’d barely spoken to her. His glum, hairy face stared at the floor. She’d never seen him look so sad.
Casey worked her way toward him. “How are you doing, Wes?” When he didn’t look up she said, “You wouldn’t be interested in owning one of Jasmine’s pets, would you? I’m trying to find homes for her gerbils, hamsters, and guinea pigs.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Thanks.” This was a surprise. He didn’t seem like the pet type. “Hearing the priest talk about Jasmine made me realize how little I knew her. I did know that she liked to dance. Did you guys go to clubs?”
“Wrestling matches. She liked wrestling.” He looked up. “She had her future all worked out. Was mature for her age, ya know?”
“Well, she had a lot of responsibilities.” Given what happened the day they worked together, “mature” was the last word Casey would have used to describe her.
“Somebody has to pay.” Wesley’s eyes zeroed in on someone behind her.
Casey turned and saw Roberto. Wesley’s scowl was burrowing into Roberto’s back, but why? Surely he didn’t believe Roberto had something to do with Jasmine’s death, or was it the way he was flirting with Mainland’s newest receptionist? With his hair trimmed, Roberto looked far more distinguished in his black suit than he did in grimy coveralls.
Wesley moved away from Casey, past three of Mainland’s female drivers talking to the gorgeous, wheelchair-bound guy with the large blue eyes and dark blond hair hanging just below his jaw line. Even before he’d removed his suit jacket and revealed bulging biceps beneath his shirt, the women had been circling him. Casey first noticed him in the church parking lot when Marie assisted the man out of her SUV. Based on the way he and Marie communicated, and had held hands in the church, she figured he was Marie’s brother. She now understood Marie’s remark at Paval’s the other day, about the killer probably renting a van to practise driving. Vans designed for paraplegics would have hand controls. Most thieves couldn’t just jump in and take off. Noel turned and caught Casey watching him. She grinned, feeling like an idiot for staring.
“My brother’s pretty cute, eh?” Marie said as she approached. “I’ll introduce you.”
Although her face was still flushed from her confrontation with Birch, Marie’s tone was friendly enough. Still, there was an edge about her, as if one wrong word could set her off.
“Casey, this is my brother, Noel Merryweather.”
“It’s good to finally meet.” He shook her hand. “I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you.”
“Really?” Taken aback, she turned to Marie.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll leave you two to chat.” Marie hurried off.
“Marie says you’re one of Mainland’s best security officers.”
“She does?”
Noel started to say something until his gaze drifted past her and his mouth clamped shut. Casey turned and spotted a man at Marie’s door. Casey recognized him from the Integrated Homicide Investigative Team. A couple of days ago, he’d asked her about Jasmine’s relationship with various colleagues. It was an awkward conversation. As the officer moved farther into the room, Casey saw Corporal Lundy follow him inside.
“What brings you two here?” Marie asked.
“We’d like to speak with Mr. Merryweather,” the officer replied.
“Forget it, this day’s about Jasmine.”
“I’m sorry, but we wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
“Give me a bloody break.”
“It’s just a few questions, ma’am.” The officer gave her a cold stare.
Casey doubted anyone could make them leave until they’d done what they came to do. As the officers headed toward Noel, guests cleared a path for them.