to Parksville. Jasmine also wrote that both Gallenskis had stepped over the line.”
“Why did the mother want you to read the letters?”
“Because I know some of the people Jasmine wrote about.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to it than that?”
How could she explain that Hannah put more faith in her interpretation of clues than she did in the RCMP’s investigation? “Hannah wanted me to see if there was a clue to the killer among them. The only incriminating stuff was about the Gallenskis.”
“Do you still have the letters?”
“Only the last seven. I didn’t have time to read all of them over there, so she let me take copies home.”
“Are the letters with you now?”
“In my purse.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“My shift starts in a few minutes; otherwise I’d bring them now.”
Lundy muttered something she couldn’t quite hear. “I want them here first thing in the morning.”
If he needed them that badly, he’d offer to meet her at the M6 bus, or call Stan to arrange a later shift start. “I have a class up at SFU that finishes at noon. I could bring them after that.”
“Our detachment’s about fifteen minutes from there. I’ll expect you by twelve-thirty and, as I said, stay away from that building.”
“No problem.” There wasn’t a reason to go back. “Did you know that Jasmine was sexually abused by her grandfather when she was six years old? She mentions it in the letters. Any hint of inappropriate behavior with her child, like taking a photo of him naked, might have enraged her enough to threaten one or both Gallenskis with the police.”
“I had a call from the Vancouver police about an assault in your house.”
Why was he changing topics? “I asked them to phone you. Thought you should know.”
“When was the last time you spoke with the victim?”
“We talked before I left for Parksville, and it didn’t go well. Winifred and I weren’t getting along, and since Summer’s staying with my boyfriend’s mother, I asked Winifred to move out, but she doesn’t like being told what to do.”
“I see.”
“You should also know that Gabrielle O’Reilly’s on the mainland. We rode the same ferry over, which is when I learned that she drives a silver Jetta. I have the plate number.” Casey recited the number she’d memorized. “Oh, and another thing.”
“Just one?”
Cute. “Ursula admitted that she knew about Gabrielle and Birch’s affair before today, but she didn’t tell anyone, including her husband.”
“Which sounds like another reason to stay away from the Gallenskis and their tenants, Miss Holland. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
“That was never the plan, Corporal.”
Casey tossed her phone on the seat. She should have said no to Marie’s plea for help from the beginning; the same for Hannah O’Reilly. Instead, she’d tried to do the right thing. So, why did she feel so bad about everything? And why did she feel the worst was yet to come?
TWENTY-NINE
CASEY WALKED INTO MAINLAND’S LUNCHROOM and spotted Roberto talking to an eighteen-year-old clerk by the coffee urn. When Roberto noticed Casey he waved, but kept yakking while the girl smiled at him with adoring eyes.
“Good, you haven’t gone to class yet,” Stan said as he caught up to her. “Amy said you’d be grabbing a coffee before you left.”
“The rockhound didn’t show up last night,” Casey answered.
“I know, I read your report. Did the undercover guy ride with you?”
“Yep.”
Stan had told her that the New Westminster police would only let Casey on the M6 if an officer was present and she wore a Kevlar vest. It had taken time to convince authorities that the rockhound and shooter were two different people, but they’d finally agreed to let her do her job, despite concerns that the shooter would try again, a worry Casey shared.
“Amy just took a message for you.” Stan handed her a slip of paper. “She said the caller sounded upset.”
Casey scanned the message. “Oh lord, it’s from Gabrielle O’Reilly. She wants to meet me at Birch’s trailer to talk about Jasmine.” The last thing she needed was another confrontation. Gabrielle hadn’t left a phone number.
“Shouldn’t she be calling the cops?” he asked.
“Not if she’s the killer.” Casey poured milk in her coffee, aware that Roberto was moving closer to her.
“Is that possible?”
“She’s one of my top three suspects. Even if Gabrielle’s innocent, she’s afraid her affair with Birch will get back to her mother.”
“Sorry to butt in,” Roberto said, looking at Casey. “Did I hear you say that Jasmine’s half sister wants to meet you?”
“This is a private conversation.” Stan stared at him. “Shouldn’t you be changing oil or something?”
“I’m on a break.” Roberto rubbed his hand on his coveralls and turned to Casey. “You said the sister’s having an affair with Birch?”
Since she owed no loyalty to Gabrielle or Birch, Casey brought him up to speed.
Roberto gave a low whistle. “If Jasmine knew her ex was mixed up with Gabrielle, she would’ve gone nuts.”
“As far as I know, she never mentioned Birch’s love life to anyone, so maybe she hadn’t a clue.” Casey placed a lid on her coffee. “On the other hand, something had been bugging Jasmine those last couple of days. Maybe that was it, or at least part of the problem.”
“You want some company to Birch’s place?” Roberto asked. “I could take a late lunch.”
“I’m not sure I’ll even go.” If little Jeremy was there, though, she’d sure like to see if he was okay.
“If you do, call me. I want to help.”
Was this Roberto’s way of telling her that he’d forgiven her for questioning his alibi, and for all the suspicion and misunderstanding she and Marie had caused? Or was he bored and looking for a little excitement? Roberto would love boasting about confronting a female desperado. Regardless of his motive, though, she could use the backup.
“If the half sister’s trouble, don’t go,” Stan said.
“Don’t you want to hear what the woman has to say?” Roberto asked her.
“I’m curious,” Casey replied, “but Gabrielle has serious anger issues. Besides, I have Birch’s address and could cross-check it for a phone number.” Phoning Gabrielle instead of talking in person, though, would mean not seeing Jeremy.
“If you give me the address, I could meet you at Birch’s place,” Roberto said. “I’ve calmed many a she-beast in my time.”
He didn’t know about Winifred, didn’t realize how violent things had become. “Thanks, I’ll think about it.”
First, she’d need to check out Gabrielle’s alibi. If Gabrielle’s employers confirmed she was at work that day, then maybe she’d see her.
Lou joined them as Stan said, “Casey, I know you can handle yourself, but this is different, okay?”
“What’s going on?” Lou asked.
“Gabrielle.” She handed him the slip of paper.
