minutes.”
His call had left her edgy. She thought about phoning Marie to tell her what had happened, but she was furious with her. Marie’s friendship with Paval had made it easy for him track her movements. He must have seen the gun rack in Wesley’s truck when Wes had visited Jasmine. Paval could have asked Jasmine about Wesley’s interest in firearms. When he decided to kill Jasmine, he probably broke into Wesley’s apartment.
Now she understood why Jasmine had kept those two photos in her locker. She’d probably found them while searching the Gallenskis’ place for her missing jewelry. It would have been like Jasmine to confront Paval about the photos, or accuse Ursula of stealing. No wonder she’d planned to move away and hadn’t been that upset when Stan suspended her.
Paval could have seen Jasmine leave to pick Jeremy up from preschool. She might have gone to the church early that day to avoid spending more time at home than necessary. Still, Paval looked after little kids weekdays, so how had he pulled it off? Noel’s van was stolen at 3:00 AM. Had Ursula driven him there, or had he gone himself and left his car within walking distance of Noel’s house? Noel had been to Jasmine’s apartment many times, so maybe he knew what Paval drove. If he did, he could ask his neighbors if they’d seen the vehicle. It was a long shot, but worth a try.
Casey drove past Rhonda’s big old house on the corner and made a right turn into the lane behind the house. She pulled into her parking spot and, turning off the engine, studied the house. As expected, the lights on the main floor and in her third-floor suite were out. The two studio suites on the second floor were also in darkness. The tenants’ cars weren’t parked at their usual spots, but they were rarely home these days. She didn’t blame them for wanting to stay away. The students had come home when the police and paramedics were here yesterday, and she had to tell them about Winifred. Both girls were understandably nervous about being here until the assailant was caught.
Casey looked at the dying cedar hedge separating Rhonda’s property from the sidewalk on Violet. Scanning the yard, she hurried out of her car, up the steps, and into the kitchen, locking the door behind her. She flipped on the light and listened to the silent house.
She peered into the refrigerator’s freezer to make sure the double chocolate fudge was there. Having access to a fridge here on the ground floor and another in her apartment had proven handy when it came to keeping the fattening food out of easy reach.
Casey marched down the dark hallway and upstairs. Normally, the creaking stairs didn’t bother her, but with all that had happened lately, the noise unnerved her. When she entered her apartment, the guinea pigs began their usual chorus of whistling.
“How about a treat guys? You might as well celebrate too.”
Casey flung her coat onto the sofa, and then fed the animals fresh veggies. When she was done, she retrieved Noel’s phone number. Seconds later, she heard his voice and background chatter.
“Have I called at a bad time?” she asked.
“No, we’re just playing poker. Hold on a sec.”
Casey heard the voices fade. She sat in her rocking chair and waited until Noel said, “I was hoping you’d call. Marie told me about Gabrielle’s murder. It’s bloody awful.”
“I know, and I’m pretty sure Paval Gallenski did it.”
“What?” Noel paused. “You’re joking, right?”
“He’s been identified as the guy who took a shot at me the other night.”
“Oh, my god.”
“Corporal Lundy confirmed that Gabrielle’s silver Jetta was in the church parking lot when Jasmine was shot. I think she might have tried to blackmail him.”
Noel let out a whistle.
“Gabrielle met Paval three days earlier when she came to see Jasmine,” Casey added. “She must have recognized him at the church, and there’s something else.” Casey told Noel about the Gallenskis’ bathroom; how the photo of Jeremy had likely been taken there.
“Shit, I can’t believe this. Paval looked after Jeremy for over a year and the little guy always seemed happy around him. If Jasmine had heard even a whisper about abuse she would have moved out right away.”
“Maybe taking a photo was all Paval did. From what I’ve read about aberrant behavior, people don’t just wake up one morning and decide to become sexual predators. The urge develops over a period of time.”
“I can’t wrap my head around this,” Noel said. “I mean, Jasmine really liked him. And why didn’t she tell me about Paval and those photos?”
“She was about to give your ring back, so maybe she thought you’d be too angry to take much interest in her problems. I just wish she’d taken the photos to the police.”
“Yeah well, given that her abuser got away with his crime, I know how useless she thought cops were.”
“That photo would have made her mad enough to threaten Paval with the police and want to move,” Casey said. “Do you know what kind of car he drives?”
“An old Honda Civic. White and a bit rusty, I think.”
“If Paval had acted alone when he stole your van, he would have had to leave his car near your place, but could he have driven a specialized van?”
“It didn’t take Marie long to learn. He could have test driven one.”
“Marie said the van was found at a park near your house?”
“Actually, it was on the other side of Como Lake.”
The lake wasn’t large. Anyone walking from the other side could be at Noel’s place in five minutes. “Would he have parked his car in that area, too?”
“Possibly.”
“We need to find some neighbors who might remember seeing a rusty white Honda Civic on the morning of September twenty-eighth.”
“This whole area had a lot of break-ins last year, so there’s a Neighborhood Watch program on both sides of the lake. I’ll find out who’s in charge.”
“What are the odds of someone remembering the car more than three weeks after her death?”
“Who knows? An unfamiliar car would only have been reported if a crime had been committed. I gather some of the volunteers are pretty zealous about writing down models and license plate numbers of cars they don’t know.”
Casey thought she heard the stairs creak. She held her breath until she remembered that Lou would be joining her. “Did you tell Neighborhood Watch about your van?”
“I was going to, but Jasmine’s death pushed it out of my mind, and then there were the police at my door, meetings with the lawyer, and work deadlines.”
“Even if people knew about the van, they wouldn’t have made the connection with it and the appearance of a white Honda Civic.”
“Someone around here might know something. I’ll call the Coquitlam detachment to see if Neighborhood Watch reported any suspicious vehicles around the twenty-seventh or eighth of September.”
There was a knock on the door. Lou had a key, but he didn’t use it if he knew she was here.
Casey rose. “Call me if you find anything.”
“I will, and take care, okay?”
“You, too.” She shoved her phone in her jeans pocket and headed for the door. “Lou?”
No answer. Fear swept over her. “Lou?”
“It’s Paval Gallenski. I need to talk to you.”
THIRTY-THREE
OH GOD, HOW HAD THE murdering maniac gotten in the house? Casey bolted for her bedroom.
“I want to talk now,” Paval called through the closed door. “You need to hear the truth.”
Casey grabbed her cell phone and called 911. “A man’s trying to break into my apartment! I’m in the top floor suite of a house.” She rattled off her name and address.
