Roberto gave Wesley the finger and kept walking.
Wesley started after him, but Stan moved fast and grabbed his arm. “Violence will get you fired, Wes. Eisler’s probably watching right now.”
As far as Casey knew, Stan was the only man at Mainland who could touch Rude Wesley Axelson without getting hurt, but Stan was a big guy; a former pro football player not intimidated by anyone.
“Where were you when Jasmine was shot, de Luca?” Wesley yelled.
“Ask the cops!”
Casey counted six staff members who’d stopped to listen. Worse, Marie was heading toward Roberto.
“If you have an alibi,” Marie said, “why did you tell people you were at the dentist?”
“Because it’s got nothing to do with Jasmine!”
Marie plunked her hands on her hips and gave him the same impatient look Casey had seen a million times. “We’ll find out sooner or later, so you might as well talk.”
Casey groaned. Marie couldn’t afford to make more enemies. Didn’t she care that she had to work with these people, and that the tension she created affected everyone?
Wesley yelled, “Tell her, you piece of crap!”
Stan stayed close to Wesley.
Roberto spun around. “I was with a married woman. Happy now?”
“All morning?” Marie asked. “Who is she?”
“She’s not with Mainland. That’s all you need to know.”
“And we’re supposed to believe you?” Wesley said.
“Ask the cops.”
Casey believed him. Some of Roberto’s trysts had bothered his conscience enough to confide in her. He’d been with married women before and had skipped work more than once for a hot romance.
“What about your alibi, Wes?” Roberto asked. “How many guys did you pay to say you were at the gym that morning?”
“Those jerks wouldn’t lie for me.”
Also probably true. Casey recalled the competitiveness and animosity between wrestlers.
“I’m shocked, seeing as how you’re such a nice guy,” Roberto remarked, and headed for the garage.
Wesley swore and charged toward the buses.
“It looks like Roberto and Wesley have alibis too.” Casey turned to Marie. “And let’s not forget Eisler’s job interview.”
“Do you actually think Wesley’s telling the truth?”
“Yeah, I saw him in action at the gym. Those guys aren’t friends, they’re rivals. If anyone saw a way to throw him in jail, they might just do it.”
“I talked to the janitors and they said the message wasn’t on our lockers when they were cleaning.”
Casey wasn’t going to waste time worrying about it. She wandered toward the M10, wondering where Lou was.
“Only two female drivers worked the early shift,” Marie said, keeping up with her, “and three clerical workers started at eight-thirty. I showed them a sample of the color and two of them said that Ingrid sometimes wears a dark shade like that. I think I’ve seen it on her too.”
“What can you do about it?”
“Report her for harassment and defacing company property,” Marie said. “Did you get a phone call from Hannah O’Reilly last night?”
“Yes, and why did you give her my name? What’s wrong with you?”
Lou roared into the depot and screeched to a halt.
“Sorry, but I can’t travel far from my kids. They’re upset enough about not being able to come home. At least Summer’s old enough to understand.”
Lou jogged up to them.
“Morning, Lou,” Marie said. “Casey got a call from Jasmine’s mother last night.”
Casey fumed. Would she ever stop stirring things up?
“I know.” He stopped at the entrance. “I’d like to talk to Casey privately a minute.”
Marie looked disappointed. “A minute’s about all you have or we’ll be late.”
As she boarded the M10, Casey and Lou strolled out of earshot.
“Are you going to Parksville?” he asked.
“I think so, yeah. I’m worried about Hannah. She was scared that Gabrielle would destroy the letters, which makes me wonder if there’s something nasty about her in them.”
“What about Summer?”
“She’s okay with me going.”
“I’m not sure I am.” Lou’s gaze was intense. “You’ll be on your own over there.”
“As long as you and Stan are the only people who know when I’m leaving, I’ll be fine. I’ll make sure I’m not being tailed. By the way, the ballistics test came back. The bullet in the bus came from a Glock twenty-seven; the same gun used on Marie’s house.”
“Shit.”
“Roberto has a new alibi, verified by the cops. It seems he was having fun with a married woman.”
“Come on, you two!” Marie shouted.
Lou shook his head. “Who’s doing this?”
“I don’t know. All the more reason to find out what Jasmine wrote in those letters.”
“What if you run into Gabrielle? Isn’t she a suspect too?”
“Since we’ve never met, she won’t know who I am.”
“When are you leaving?”
“After class tomorrow. Will you feed the critters while I’m gone? It will only be twenty-four hours, and I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make everything up to you, promise.”
Lou studied her a moment, then kissed her cheek. “Tell me how later.”
TWENTY-THREE
CASEY TOOK A DEEP YOGA breath, realizing too late that she’d just filled her lungs with the smell of antiseptic. She blew the air out fast and shook the tension from her shoulders before knocking on Hannah O’Reilly’s door. The door was one of a dozen lining the spacious corridor inside Grantwood Manor, although “manor” was too grand a word for this single-story structure. The immaculate lawn and vibrant rose gardens separated by footpaths were impressive, though.
Despite Stan’s and Summer’s support, Casey had had second thoughts about coming here; however, Hannah phoned again last night and tearfully begged her to come read the letters as soon as possible. It seemed Gabrielle suspected Hannah of hiding something, and Hannah was convinced that Gabrielle would soon search her room.
Casey knocked on the door, and looked up and down the hallway. If it wasn’t for the telltale hospital smell, this place could be mistaken for a hotel. Landscape paintings were strategically spaced between sconces illuminating the corridor.
“Just a minute,” a woman answered.
Once Casey had exited the ferry and begun the half-hour drive north to Parksville, misgivings about this trip had started to magnify. By the time she’d cleared Nanaimo’s long sprawl of big box stores, shopping malls, fast food joints, and other businesses, anxiety had really kicked in.
The doorknob turned slowly. When a tall, white-haired woman with Jasmine’s sapphire eyes peered at her, Casey was taken aback. She’d pictured Hannah as a stooped, feeble old lady, not this erect, confident-looking woman. The only evidence of her stroke was a slight droop on the right side of her mouth.
“Casey?”
“Yes, hi.”
“Welcome.” Hannah stepped back. “Please come in.”
Casey entered a spacious room containing bedroom furniture and a sitting area at the far end. An alcove off the sitting area contained a small sink, bar fridge, and toaster oven. French doors opened onto a large, enclosed courtyard filled with orchids, gardenias, and other tropical flowers.
“This is far nicer than I would have expected from a government facility,” Casey said.
“Actually, it’s a private care facility, which essentially means that the place is an overpriced transition house. Residents here don’t need full nursing care, but they still can’t quite manage on their own yet.”
Not cheap, Casey thought; yet Parksville was a picturesque, oceanside resort town with enough golf courses and activities to attract plenty of well-off retirees.