e…”
Laura glanced at Nate, who gave her a slight nod. Scott was staring at the images in front of him, until Laura whipped them away from his reach and back into the folder. She stood up smartly, Nate following her.
“We’ll be back to talk to you again later,” Laura said. “In the meantime, Scott, you might want to consider what you’re going to tell us. If you make a full confession, the judge may be persuaded to go easy on you. There’s no death penalty in the state of Washington anymore, so you might just get the chance to live as a free man again before you die.”
“Wait – I didn’t have anything to do with this!” Scott shouted, calling desperately after them as they opened the door to step outside. “I swear, I didn’t do it!”
Laura closed the door, shutting out the sound in both directions with the heavy construction. “Well?” she said, looking at Nate as they both began to stroll towards the elevator that would take them back to their makeshift office.
“Oh, he definitely did it,” Nate said, flashing her a grin. “We can hold him overnight, see if he cracks.”
“Agreed,” Laura said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he lawyers up, but we can handle that.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, distracted her. She grabbed it out, Nate turning to look for the source of the noise.
“New lead?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Laura said. “I just got a message from Caleb Rowntree – the guy whose door we broke down. He wants to meet me. Maybe he has new information about the case.”
“Maybe,” Nate said, though Laura could have sworn he was smirking as he turned away. “You go. I’ll stay here, organize the evidence we do have and start thinking about what else we need to gather. I’ll go through Scott’s phone records, for a start. Maybe we can find some threats against Lucile as well.”
“Good idea,” Laura said, turning and heading back in the direction of the exit.
Whatever Caleb Rowntree had to tell her, she hoped it was good – the kind of good that could get this case closed without having to wait for a confession, so they could get this signed off and finished before the day was up.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Gypsy Sparks was tying her shoelaces, tightening her sneakers to make sure they were secure. It was late, dark out, and all the streetlights were on. Perfect for going for a walk. She couldn’t wait to get out there, to feel the stretch, to breathe fresher air now the bulk of the traffic had gone down.
Gypsy enjoyed walking at night, especially since she had moved to this neighborhood. It was good to get some air, to get away from people. If she saw anyone, it would be a neighbor wishing her a good night. Maybe walking their dog. It meant she could get out every night and clear her mind before she needed to go to sleep.
Today, she had a lot on her mind that needed clearing away. Gypsy buttoned up her jacket and opened the front door, stepping outside. It was brisker now that the sun had gone down, but still warm enough. The early Fall was a great time in Seattle. Mild weather, warmth and sunshine, not yet the bitterness of winter. It was good. She liked it a lot. She’d found it much more comfortable since moving here.
Gypsy set off down the street, pushing her hands inside her jacket pockets and moving at a good pace. She liked to start fast and then gradually slow down, getting a bit of exercise as well as clueing her body in that it was time to wind things down for bed. The air pumping into her lungs made her feel better, and if there was any ache in her legs by the time she got home, it was the satisfying feeling of exercise done well that helped her to drop off.
She noticed someone up ahead, and felt tension go through her body. As much as this was a safe neighborhood, you could never be too careful. It looked like a man from here, but he was just standing in the middle of the street, looking up. He was out of the line of the bright lights overhead, and she couldn’t make out his features. Only his shape, his head tilted up. What was he looking at? Why was he studying the house?
Gypsy swallowed, her attention swept off the things she had been thinking about and focused on him. Was he a robber, casing the place for later? She hoped not. What was she supposed to do? Call the neighborhood watch? And hadn’t she just heard on the last radio news bulletin on the drive home that there had been a couple of women killed in Seattle over the last couple of days?
Her keys were in her pocket. Her hand curled around them, gripping them tight. If she had to fight to fend him off, then…
“Oh, Gypsy!” he said, and she recognized his voice before she got out of the glare of the lights to see his face. “Come and take a look at this – do you think our new blinds are on straight?”
Gypsy pitched up beside the man, who had turned into her neighbor, Jerry. He was an older man in perhaps his seventies or eighties, originally from the Caribbean and now somewhat shriveled and shrunk with age. He still had so much energy, and Gypsy often saw him on her walks.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Have you got a spirit level?”
“Good idea,” he said, thoughtfully. He squinted at the house a little longer before turning to her with a shake of the head. “Anyway. What’s going on with you?”
“Oh, just work stuff,” Gypsy sighed, shaking her head. “Trying to get my head empty before bed.”
“Well, come on child, pour it all into my head instead,” he said. “Walk with an old man and tell him your troubles, and you’ll have none when you reach home.”
Gypsy laughed, taking the arm that he offered for her. Hooked together, they began a stroll around the block. She had no qualms about Jerry being able to keep up – sometimes, with his retirement and his freedom to exercise any time of the day, she though he was fitter than her. “It’s just staff problems,” she said. Jerry already knew all about her job at the bookstore in town, how she’d risen to be manager there a couple of years ago. “I don’t know what to do with this young girl. Honestly, she’s got no work ethic. She’s on her last warning. But when I pulled her up about it, she started begging me not to fire her. She says she really needs the job.”
“Yes, but you really need a worker,” Jerry said. “Go on.”
“I don’t know. It’s so much harder now. Being a manager, I mean,” Gypsy sighed. “When I was just one of them, we used to look out for each other. I would cover for someone if they needed me to. But now…”