Chapters (46)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
“There’s been a major development in the investigation,” I said. “I wanted you to be the first to hear it. As you know, the gun used to kill Ginny and Brandi was never found.”
“Has it been?”
“No, but it’s been identified as a gun that was stolen from the police station’s evidence locker a few years ago.”
Paula glanced at me and I kept my eyes as wide as possible, giving no sign I was bullshitting her. I was good at that.
I continued, “That’s when you worked at the station. Do you remember it?”
“Vaguely,” she said. “It wasn’t in the evidence locker, though. Just in the office. Confiscated from Bill Martin—a local no-good. They figured he’d broken in and gotten his gun back.”
“Maybe, but that’s not what they think now. In fact, Chief Bruyn swears he knew who took it, he’s just not telling me.”
Paula swallowed.
“Of course, whoever took the gun isn’t necessarily Ginny’s killer,” I said.
Paula nodded.
“But the person who did take it should come forward before Bruyn comes knocking. I’m sure whoever took it had a good reason. But then, when it went missing, she couldn’t exactly report it, since it was stolen goods in the first place.” I caught and held Paula’s gaze. “That gun must have been taken by someone who had access at night. Someone like the cleaner.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t me. It ...” She hesitated, then said, “It was Ginny. She came to see me one night. Brought me coffee. I knew something was up, but I thought she just wanted money. Then, a week later, when Bill came back for his gun and it was gone, I knew what Ginny had come for. Everyone in town knew the gun was in that office. I confronted her and she admitted it. Said she’d run into some trouble with a dealer and she needed it to scare him off. She wouldn’t let me give it back, so I bought her a lockbox and made her keep it in that, away from Kayla.”
“And it never occurred to you she might use it on Kayla?”
She should have jumped at that, shocked. But she only shook her head, her gaze once again fixed on the girl outside the window.
“No,” she said, barely over a whisper. “It never did.”
“But that changed at 12:38 on November 18 last year, didn’t it?”
Now she glanced over sharply. “What?”
“November 18. The night Ginny and Brandi died. You got a call at 12:38 from Carol Degas.”
“Did I?” She shrugged. “I suppose I might have. Carol would sober up at all hours of the night and call me, suddenly concerned about where Brandi was.”