She peeked around the compost. Paval was at the corner of the house, to her right. Three feet from her, a gate opened onto the lane. The latch looked easy enough to release, but what if Paval heard her?
“You saw the photos, didn’t you, Casey? Jasmine must have taken them to work. I saw the look on your face when you were in my bathroom last night.”
Casey held her breath. Her shirt clung to her damp back.
“Jasmine freaked out and threatened to tell everyone I abused kids! What was I supposed to do?”
The porch light went on. A door started to open. It was all the distraction she needed. Casey bounded to the gate, lifted the latch, and took off. She scanned fences across the lane. The nearest ones were too tall to jump.
“It was just a stupid photo,” Paval shouted. “Can’t you understand that?”
“Hey!” a man yelled. “Get off my property! I’ve called the cops.”
The asphalt was cracked and dotted with potholes. Head down, Casey stayed to the right until another shot zinged past her. She darted onto a property without a fence and headed back the way she had come. When she reached the side of the house, floodlights blinked on.
“I told you to stop!” Paval shouted from the lane. “This is your last chance. I mean it!”
Casey bolted through the front yard when two police cruisers sped toward her place. Terrified that Paval was too close, she didn’t call out.
Paval yelled, “I hate people who won’t co-operate!”
He fired another shot. Casey could almost feel the bullet fly past her head. She dove behind a large rhododendron, scrambled to her feet, and dashed behind a parked SUV. Home was five houses back. Street lamps illuminated the police cruiser parked in front of it.
A bullet struck the SUV’s window. Casey’s stomach somersaulted. The cops must have heard the shot. Casey darted to the next parked vehicle closer to home. Her entire arm and shoulder were burning now; blood dripped off her fingertips. She had to make Paval keep talking; the cops needed to know where they both were.
“Paval, did you or Ursula shoot Jasmine?”
“Ursula had nothing to do with this! Don’t you ever spread stories about my wife!”
Casey stole a look through the driver’s side window. Paval was on the sidewalk, rifle raised, as he walked toward the vehicle. Why wasn’t he running away? Surely he’d seen the cruiser.
“I photographed my favorite tenants all the time.” He sounded close to tears. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“But Jasmine didn’t like the pictures you took?” She kept her voice loud.
“She never let me take her picture, and I needed one for my collection. She was so damn stubborn. The other tenants didn’t care.”
“You collect pictures of your tenants?”
“I told you before, the good ones are like family.”
What a freak. Casey spotted movement behind a hedge bordering the sidewalk. “So, you slipped into Jasmine’s bedroom and snapped a picture without her knowing?”
“She was always complaining about insomnia, so I gave her something to help her sleep.”
Casey heard desperation in his voice. “How did she find the photos, Paval?”
“By snooping through our bedroom. Jasmine had no right to call me a pedophile and Ursula a thief! She said she’d destroy both of us!”
Casey raced for the next vehicle and knelt by a tire. She gulped more air while her stomach swirled. Why weren’t the police taking him down? And where was Lou?
“What about Gabrielle?” she yelled. “Why kill her?” No response. “Was she blackmailing you?”
“She was a greedy evil bitch who wanted everything I’d saved for our baby!”
Casey scampered to a Jeep Cherokee. Behind her, a police cruiser roared closer.
“Freeze!” a cop shouted on the other side of the Cherokee.
Another shot rang out. Casey felt a hand on her shoulder and screamed.
THIRTY-FOUR
STAN’S OLD CHAIR SQUEAKED AS he leaned back and grinned at Casey. “So, you nabbed your rockhound and Jasmine’s killer on the same night. Impressive, kiddo.”
“I didn’t actually nab Paval. He came after me.”
Casey adjusted the sling supporting her injured arm. Noel sat on her left, nearest Stan’s door. Marie was on her right, uncomfortably close to the sling.
“How bad is the damage?” Noel asked, gazing at her arm.
“The bullet took a chunk of flesh, but it’s not so bad, thanks to some heavy-duty painkillers.”
“Thank god that’s all he hit,” Noel said.
Casey appreciated his concern, but didn’t want to say so in front of Marie. “Paval said he could have killed me if he wanted. I guess I should be grateful he was hell-bent on telling me how misunderstood he was.”
“Noel’s lawyer found out that he used to belong to a gun club,” Marie remarked.
“Shit, Casey, you could have been hit in the crossfire between him and the cops,” Stan said.
“There wasn’t really any crossfire. A cop shot Paval once in the shoulder, and game over.”
Except it wasn’t a game. Casey remembered the shot, and Paval falling as a cop approached her from behind. She’d screamed from pain when he’d touched her wounded arm. Casey squirmed in the hard wooden chair. The hip she’d fallen on was sore, and she wished this meeting was over. She hadn’t planned to tell Marie what happened, but Marie had barged in to say that Noel insisted on thanking her in person. She’d then had the gall to chastise Casey for not answering her phone all weekend. Casey had neither the energy nor desire to explain that she’d been too tired to talk to anyone but Lou and Summer. She’d also managed a brief chat with Hannah O’Reilly while Lou had taken Summer to see Winifred in the hospital.
“You still look pale,” Stan said. “Now that your report’s done, take a few days off.”
“Thanks.” Oh sweet heaven, back to her comfy bed.
“The reason Noel was trying to call you,” Marie said, giving her an exasperated look, “was to let you know that a guy who lives on the other side of Como Lake saw a rusty white Honda Civic parked in front of a neighbor’s house the morning Jasmine died. The cops confirmed that it was Paval’s.”
Casey turned to Noel. “How did he remember?”
“It seems he’s one of the more fanatical members of Neighborhood Watch. When he was getting ready for work the morning of the twenty-eighth, he noticed the Honda parked in front of a neighbor, who’s a senior. Apparently, the neighbor never has visitors at 5:00 AM, so he wrote down the plate number. The car was gone by the time he came home from work later that afternoon.”
“He didn’t report the vehicle to the police?” Casey asked.
“There was no reason to,” Noel answered. “He checked on the neighbor and she was fine. No crimes happened in his area that week, and he didn’t know about my van.”
“Did Ursula know what Paval had done?” Casey asked.
“She claims she didn’t,” Marie replied. “The lawyer said Ursula totally lost it when she heard why Paval was arrested, although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was an act. And she told the cops that Paval was the one who stole from tenants.”
“Paval also confessed to killing Gabrielle,” Noel said. “Worse, he admitted having two babies in the van when he shot Jasmine.”
Casey flinched. “He brought kids to a murder?”
“Ursula was at work.” Noel’s face was grim. “He said he couldn’t leave them alone.”
“I think Gabrielle wanted to tell you about Paval,” Marie said to Casey.
“Why wouldn’t she have told the cops?” Stan asked.
“She wouldn’t want her mother finding out that she saw Jasmine’s killer and said nothing.” Casey rubbed her forehead. Rehashing events was giving her a headache. “I told Hannah about Paval’s arrest.”