She couldn’t finish. Couldn’t go on for another minute, then said, “They were fighting. Brandi thought they needed to make it look as if she’d been violated ...” Another crack in her voice. “That’s when Ginny started having second thoughts. But Brandi had the gun. Ginny’s gun. She turned it on Kayla, and I thought—I thought Ginny would stop her. This was her daughter. Kill her own child? For a man? How could I raise—?”

She shook her head and took another deep breath. “I thought she’d do something, but when Brandi pointed that gun at Kayla’s head, Ginny stopped arguing and closed her eyes. Just closed her eyes. I screamed. I ran forward and there was a shot. It went past me. I hit Brandi. She fell and I jumped on her to get the gun and we were struggling and I saw Ginny standing there over us.

“I got hold of the gun, but Brandi wouldn’t let go. It fired. I don’t know who pulled the trigger. I yanked the gun away and I got up, and Brandi was lying there, dead, blood pumping out. I heard this sound and I thought it was Kaylawaking up and I turned and there was Ginny, bent over, hands to her chest, blood running through her fingers. The bullet had gone right through Brandi and into her.

“Ginny was still alive. I told her I was going to get help, that she’d be okay, but she started crying, saying she was sorry, it was Brandi’s idea, she begged me not to leave her. I tried to calm her down so I could get help, but she kept crying and then ...” Paula looked away and brushed a hand over her eyes. “And then she was gone.”

“So you called the only person you thought you could count on. Ginny’s father.”

She looked up sharply.

“Phone records,” I said. “One of the girls at the house saw him coming in late that night. He’d gotten a call on his cell from you.”

“Alastair’s a smart man,” she said. “I thought he’d know what to do. He knew Ginny was his daughter—he’d already figured it out and we’d agreed to keep it a secret. But for this ...”

“He owed you.”