LITMIR.BIZ

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time,” McNally said. Finally a break in the case. “When he does, see what he knows. He set the fire and killed his partner. I want to know about the other dead bodies. I think he killed Mitch Bellotti to keep him from talking.”

      “We’ve got it covered,” the ADA said, “and we’ll find out if he knows anything about the Jezebel Brentwood case.”

      Mac doubted that Pascal would admit to killing the girl, but it was a start.

      Finally, the case was pulling together. Except for Renee Trudeau. Pascal had been in Portland on the day her Camry had been forced through the guardrail and off the cliff into the Pacific Ocean.

      But he could have an accomplice. Or, as Mac was coming to suspect, there might be a second killer.

      From inside the room, Scott’s lawyer said, “I want to talk to the DA. My client is willing to tell you everything he knows, but in consideration for his testimony—”

      “—confession,” one of the officers corrected.

      “—Mr. Pascal would like to know what he can expect.”

      “He wants a deal,” one of the officers said and looked into the glass.

      “Okay, showtime.” The ADA walked out of the observation room, and in the next few minutes, Scott, assured he’d not get the death penalty, admitted that he’d set the fire at Blue Note and also killed Mitch Bellotti.

      “I knew it. That son of a bitch,” Mac whispered, watching as Scott, sweating and holding out his hands as if anyone with half a brain would understand his reasoning, explained.

      “The restaurant was hemorrhaging money. Blue Note couldn’t be saved and Glenn, he wouldn’t believe it.”

      “Because you were cooking the books. And taking some of that money to the casino in Lincoln City. We found those records, too,” the officer said, and the wind seemed to go out of Pascal’s sails. “You’d better be straight with us, Pascal, or all deals are off.”

      “Okay, okay, so I ‘borrowed’ a little of the company funds. It wasn’t a lot. Jesus Christ, I owned the damned thing. I was the brains behind the business. Glenn with all his marital woes was useless.” He was red in the face, angry all over again.

      “So you decided to off him.”

      “No…not really. I was just going to burn the place down. I didn’t know Glenn was inside. That was a pure accident.”

      “That accident sure worked out for you,” the officer said. “No more Glenn Stafford to worry about.”

      “He shouldn’t have been there! That was his fault, not mine!”

      “Oh, brother,” Mac muttered, staring through the glass.

      “And Bellotti?”

      Scott rubbed a nervous hand over his forehead. “I feel bad about that. This thing just became an out-of-control roller coaster. First Glenn, and then Mitch started asking questions. I had no beef with him. He wasn’t so smart, but an okay guy. But Glenn had told him things and I could tell he was putting it all together. So…” To his credit, Pascal actually seemed guilt-riddled. “The body was found in the maze, we got the notes, and at first I thought I shouldn’t say I got one…but then when everybody did except Zeke it seemed fortuitous, y’know? Stupid Evangeline was trying to save him, and she just made him look guilty.”

      “But you’re the one guilty of killing four people.”

      “Four? No way!” Scott was rising from his chair, but his lawyer placed a staying hand over his forearm.

      “Mr. Pascal is telling you what he knows. About the deaths of Glenn Stafford and Mitchell Bellotti.”

      “What about Renee Trudeau and Jezebel Brentwood?”

      Scott wasn’t waiting for his lawyer. “I had nothing to do with that. I wasn’t anywhere near the coast when Renee had her accident. Jesus, I have an alibi. I was at a meeting with bankers about refinancing Blue Ocean. The meeting was in Portland at Second Community Bank. Check with Davis Sheen, he’s my banker.”

      “We will.”

      “And I didn’t kill Jessie. I hardly knew her.” He was nearly convincing as tears glistened in his eyes. “You have to believe me.” He turned his tortured gaze to his bland-faced lawyer. “It’s the truth. I didn’t kill Renee, and I didn’t kill Jessie. And I don’t know who did.”

      Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Becca gazed at the wand in her hand with its two bright pink lines that indicated, yes, she was indeed pregnant.

      “Oh, my God,” she breathed, staring at the two lines in wonder.

      I’m having a baby. Hudson’s baby!

      Again.

      She blinked against a spate of tears and told herself that all she had to do was step through the door and tell Hudson, who was waiting downstairs. He’d wished her luck as she’d hurried up the steps of her condo, pregnancy test kit tight in her hand.

      If she figured right, the baby would be born in late November or early December. A Christmas baby!

      “Stop it,” she said, not wanting to get caught up in the host of fairy-tale dreams. It was too early for that. She’d been down that rocky road once before.

      But it was time to inform Hudson that he would definitely be a father by the end of the year.

      She stood up quickly and as she did, she felt the floor start to buckle beneath her feet. The walls closed in on her. A vision…Her head felt like it was splitting in two.

      Oh, God, no! Not now!

      Her vision fogged and she felt as if she were going to faint. She grabbed on to the sink for support, dropping the test. Head throbbing, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror only to have the image fade to watery waves. The smell of the sea was thick in the air, and in the glass she spied the same teenaged girl she’d seen before. Again on a rocky out-crop, the wind teasing her hair, her eyes, so like Becca’s, wide with fear, her skin nearly translucent.

      Dark clouds spun above her, the churning sea roiling far below.

      “Jessie,” Becca whispered as the girl looked at her and placed a finger to her lips.

      But this time Jessie wasn’t alone. This time there was someone else, a dark, faceless figure looming behind her, an evil presence of which Jessie appeared unaware. Becca cried out and the demon seemed to look straight at her, his eyes hidden, his nose tilting in the air, as if to smell the breeze.

      Though she couldn’t see his features, Becca knew deep in her heart that this monster was what Jessie had feared.

      Her knees gave way, but she clung to the sink and realized there was something familiar about him, something bone deep and riddled with an evil as dark as all of Hades. “Jessie,” she tried to cry again, in warning, but her voice failed her as she slid further downward.

      Jessie was already dead. She knew that…didn’t she? But this girl…she looked so much like Jessie.

      This horrid creature, this malevolent force had already killed her. The girl on the cliff was only a spirit, a ghost of the girl who had been murdered and buried in the maze at St. Elizabeth’s. Becca knew that.

      So why was she here?

      Why had Jessie returned to haunt her?

      Not to haunt you…To warn you…

      Had that thought come from her own mind, or had Jessie mouthed the words?

      She couldn’t tell, but the ominous figure in the dark cowl came closer, nose in the air, so close that surely Jessie sensed him. She had to feel the heat of his fetid breath against the back of her neck, yet she didn’t move, not even when he raised a hand over her.

      Watch

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