paralysis?”
“After.”
Casey glanced at the front door. She could reach it in six or seven quick strides. “Here’s the thing.” She crossed her arms. “I just saw a black jacket, royal blue ball cap, and sunglasses in your closet. It’s pretty much what Jasmine’s killer wore.”
He almost looked relieved. “That’s what’s bothering you?”
“Uh-huh. Why didn’t the police take these things away?”
Noel swept his hand over his head. “They weren’t here.” He cringed, as if expecting a sharp response. “Marie was washing the jacket at her place.”
“That sounds bad, Noel.”
“I know, but my van had been stolen and Sam was out of food, so Marie offered to drop some off on her way to work. It was the morning Jasmine was killed.”
“Oh.”
“She saw the jacket and ball cap on the floor by the closet and wanted to know why they smelled like wine. I told her I spilled some. The truth was that Jasmine had thrown a glass at me during the fight. Marie offered to get the stain out of the cap, so she took everything.”
Ursula had said Noel reeked of wine when she and Paval bumped into him that night. “Would anyone from Mainland have seen you in those clothes?”
“Sure, Jasmine, Marie, and I went to the pub with MPT staff a few times.”
“Did you ever meet Mainland’s VP, David Eisler?”
“No, but Marie pointed him out once.” Noel rubbed his chin. “I caught him staring at me in the parking lot last month when I was picking Jasmine up.”
“I heard that he phoned Jasmine the night before she died. Were you there when he called?”
Noel blinked a couple of times. “Now that you mention it, we were arguing when the phone rang. She answered it, so I went to the bathroom. By the time I came back she was off the phone and looking furious. I assumed it was because of me.”
“She never said who she’d been talking to?”
“No, and I didn’t ask. Too caught up in the fight.”
Convenient. “People say Eisler was hot for Jasmine and that he doesn’t have an alibi. Also, the landlord’s wife said she met him at their apartment building a few days before her death. It seems he wanted to see Jasmine.”
“I wouldn’t put much stock in what Ursula says. She and Jasmine didn’t get along. What I would pay attention to, though, is something I should have mentioned before; something you won’t want to hear.”
“Go on.”
Noel hesitated. “While Jasmine and I were fighting, she blurted out that she was in love with Roberto and that he had a key to her apartment.”
Oh, crap. “And you didn’t you tell me before because . . .”
“It’s not cool to accuse people without proof, and it would make me look bad. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some wine?”
“Not yet, thanks.”
“Mind if I start?”
“Not at all.” She watched Noel roll for the table and pour himself a glass of what looked like rose. “I was thinking about the photos you mentioned, and I wonder if Roberto took them.”
“He said he didn’t.” Although he could have lied. “Did the issue with the key tick you off?”
Noel swished the wine in his glass. “I was willing to build a life with Jasmine. He wasn’t.”
He made it sound as if he’d been doing her a favor. “Didn’t you find it strange that she took your ring while she was in love with Roberto and dating other guys?”
“I didn’t realize how deeply she felt about him until she gave the ring back,” he answered. “Anyway, Marie says there’s a new suspect; some girlfriend of Birch’s.”
“Maybe, but no one knows who she is yet. Did Jasmine ever talk about moving?”
“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d decided to, since she really wanted to get away from Birch.” He sipped the wine. “What if the girlfriend shot Jasmine to give Birch a solid alibi? Birch saw me in the ball cap and jacket a couple of times.”
“With sunglasses and her hair pushed up under a ball cap, a woman could be mistaken for a guy from a distance,” Casey said. “Speaking of female suspects, your sister asked me to check out Gabrielle O’Reilly’s alibi, and I have her phone number, but I don’t want to call her, so can I give it to you?”
“Sure.” Noel tapped the rim of his glass. “It’s more than a little freaky that the killer knows enough about me and Wesley’s guns to set us up. The killer has to be someone we’ve both had contact with a few times, which rules out Gabrielle and Birch’s girlfriend, unless the girlfriend works at Mainland.”
“Possibly.” Although she still hadn’t completely ruled out Noel. Should she sit back and wait in fear, or help nail the suspect before the freak shot Summer? Was there a way to establish Noel’s innocence once and for all?
“Maybe it’s time I stopped acting like a doormat and did more to save my ass, like taking a closer look at Gabrielle and MPT staff,” he said. “After all, I don’t have to work with them.”
“True.” But what would he find?
NINETEEN
“SORRY, CASEY, BUT YOU’RE BACK supervising the kids with Marie,” Stan said. “We’re too short-staffed.”
Casey slumped in her chair and watched him straighten his tan tie with the pink triangles. She kept her gaze on that god-awful tie so she wouldn’t have to look at Marie sitting next to her. She was being unusually quiet. Casey had argued that this was Marie’s case, not hers, and that Marie could easily handle what would probably be a subdued bunch of kids after that last fight, but Stan disagreed.
“Look, it’s not my fault that the parents threatened to complain loudly and publicly about Mainland if we didn’t pick up their kids again,” Stan said. “Eisler promised parents two security staff for a couple of days. Anyhow, it took some effort, but I got him to agree that your presence would send a strong reminder to those boys about fighting.”
“Fine.” She just hoped Marie wouldn’t whine about her brother’s situation all through their shift, or beg for more help.
“How’s the goose egg, anyway?” he asked.
“It’s still tender, but there’ve been no more headaches.” She sat forward. “Did anyone address the real problem between these kids, which is that the white kid, Scott, is smitten with a girl from the other group and that the girl might feel the same?”
“I was told that all concerned parties had a meeting, but I wasn’t given details.” Stan’s phone rang. When Marie stood he said, “Wait here a minute. There’s something else you both need to know.”
Marie strolled to the window, keeping her back to Casey. Casey yawned, wishing she could have slept in. After her lunch with Noel, the rest of the weekend had been a marathon of errands, housework, cage cleaning, and essay writing. Never far from her thoughts, though, was Friday night’s ominous warning. Troubling as well was her turmoil over Rhonda and Summer.
Casey had hoped that Friday’s phone message to Rhonda would prompt a quick response, but it hadn’t. She’d called again yesterday and learned that Rhonda was still in the infirmary. When she explained the situation to Summer, the poor kid tried to sound optimistic. Casey knew what Summer was thinking: that Rhonda was avoiding them.
Stan hung up and leaned back in his chair. Casey tried to stifle another yawn.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yeah, busy weekend, stressful week.”
“If things go well today and tomorrow, you can skip the rest of the week.”
