As he did, he went gray. As he did, his hands began to shake. “This isn’t possible.”
“Somewhere in you, you know it is. Your wife knew it was, and even in her horror and grief, she tried to protect Rayleen. So Rayleen did this to her, to protect herself, to throw suspicion on Allika, to focus you, your time, your attention, on her.”
“No.”
“There were other entries, Oliver. Details of how she killed both Foster and Williams. And a mention of a woman named Versy at the Kinley House.”
“No. No. You’re out of your mind.” He swayed like a man would when the world tipped sharply on its axis. “I’m going out of mine.”
Push, Eve ordered herself. No choice but to push. “What isn’t in there, as the diary only goes back seven months, is how she killed your son.”
Even the gray leached out of his face. “That’s insane.”
“You both knew Rayleen had been up some time before she came in to wake you.”
“She—”
“You decided it was an accident—what parent wouldn’t? That he’d tripped and she’d gone into shock and denial. You put all the pieces of him out of sight because she got upset if she saw them. More, if she saw either you or her mother looking at them.”
“For God’s sake, for God’s sake. She was seven. You can’t believe—”
“I can. Look at your wife, Oliver. Does she deserve what was done to her? Take out the picture of your son again. Did he? She took these lives without a quibble. I have a rock-solid case, which includes her buying a go-cup with Craig’s name engraved on it.”
“What? What?” He fisted both hands in his hair, all but tore at it.
“I have a wit,” Eve continued, relentlessly. “The clerk who waited on Rayleen, and who’s already identified her photo. Cora verifies they stopped in to that particular store on that particular day at Rayleen’s request.
“I have a statement from her great-aunt, Quella Harmon, verifying she had interest in and knowledge of how ricin was made. Don’t even think of saying circumstantial to me,” she snapped.
Kick him and keep kicking him while he’s down, she thought. It’s the only way.
“In her own words, Oliver.” She leaned over to pick up the pages he’d dropped. “In her own words she writes how she decided to kill her mother, how she left Allika to die while she herself went to make a snack, to listen to music. She did this without a single twinge of regret.”
“I can’t…You can’t expect me to believe.”
“You already believe, in that place inside you. That’s what’s making you sick. But you’re going to have to suck it in, because I’m going to tell you what’s going to be done. And…look at me, Oliver. Look at me.”
His eyes were glazed over with shock and unspeakable pain when they met hers. “She wrote it down,” he said dully. “She wrote it down while Allika was…”
“That’s right. Allika was a barrier, like Trevor was.” Use their names, Eve thought. “Allika and Trev stood in the way of something she wanted, so she removed them.”
“She’s my daughter, she’s my child. She’s…”
“I’m going to make you a deal right here. You and me. If I don’t prove to you that everything I’ve told you is true, I won’t fight any attempt to try her as a minor instead of an adult.”
“She’s ten years old. She’s only ten.”
“Multiple premeditated murders. She gets legal adult status, unless I pull it out of the mix. That’s the deal. I prove to you that she put your wife—that she put Allika in that hospital bed, with a machine breathing for her, I prove she pushed Trevor down the stairs on fucking Christmas morning, that she did Foster and Williams and some sick old lady in a nursing home. All of it. Without a shadow of a doubt. If I don’t, you’ll have ammo to break down my case. That’s the deal. Take it, or I take her down now.”
Rayleen was in the CCU family room, drawing. When Eve stepped in, she stopped, let her eyes swim with shining tears. “My mommy—”
Eve closed the doors behind her. “I know the doctor who’s been working on her. She thinks your mother’s going to pull through this.”
She wandered over to the counter. Hospital coffee was nearly as lethal as cop coffee. But it would make a nice prop. Eve poured a cup, turned. “Not such good news for you, Ray.”
“What?”
“Just you and me, Ray. Door’s shut.” Eve pulled off her jacket, turned. I’m not wearing a wire. Here’s my recorder.” She unpinned it, set it down. “Turned off. Haven’t read you your rights. Your father’s a lawyer, and you’re smart, so you know I can’t use anything you say to me.”