Deadly Accusations (11 page)

“HERE IT IS—PULL OVER.”
Casey leaned forward as far as her seatbelt would allow and read “Cedarbrook Estates” on the sign. She stroked Cheyenne who sat between her and Lou. “Lofty name for a trailer park.”

Lou parked on the shoulder of winding, two-lane Dewdney Trunk Road. This was a quiet, residential area of Coquitlam. Casey scanned the tree-covered slope to her right. At the top of the slope, houses were built back from the road and overlooked the trailer park. A haphazard assortment of evergreens and bushes grew in front of the park. Through the foliage, Casey counted a dozen single-wides backed up against the fence.

“Interesting that Jasmine lived only a short distance away,” Lou said.

Casey turned to him. “You knew where she lived?”

“Marie's car broke down a few weeks ago and she needed a ride there.”

Irritation and jealousy was irrational. After all, Lou wasn't interested in Marie. Still, he hadn't told her, probably because he thought she'd overreact . . . Maybe she would have. Casey slung her arm over Cheyenne and got her face licked. The dog seemed to love this excursion. Cheyenne didn't go for car rides often, but tonight Casey needed her presence.

“We should have come earlier,” Lou said. “The lights are off in some trailers.”

“Summer was giving me grief.” Casey fiddled with the binocular strap.

“Which is her own fault for not starting on homework when you asked.”

Easier said than done. Summer had wanted to come along too, but Casey knew she had too much homework, so she'd called Mrs. Nally, who agreed to babysit. As Summer's whining escalated into a rant, Casey threatened to ground her for the rest of the week if she didn't get the work done. She hated resorting to threats, but Summer had been procrastinating all week. Besides, this excursion could be dangerous.

Casey focused the binoculars on the mobile homes. “I can't see any numbers on the trailers. They must be on the other end of the units.” She handed Cheyenne's leash to Lou. “Let's walk the dog, dear.”

“If Birch isn't home, you're not going to wait for him, are you? I have an early shift tomorrow.”

“I'll just take a quick peek to make sure Jeremy's okay, then leave.”

“That won't really tell you anything.”

“Maybe I can find out if he has a bed to sleep in and isn't crying. At least I'll have tried to do everything Marie asked, which should get her off my back.”

“Then let's get moving.” He opened the door.

Casey understood Lou's irritability. He was tired and had tried to talk her out of this, but when he realized it wasn't working, he'd volunteered to come along.

After her talk with Noel yesterday, Casey interviewed three retirees on Birch's mail route. Each person had spotted him shortly after 11:00
AM
, right around the time Jasmine was shot. Two seniors had even greeted him, and both were adamant this was the same man who delivered their mail every day. The information had been a little depressing, yet she still wasn't convinced of Noel's guilt.

Casey stepped out of the pickup, raised the hood on her jacket, and put on a pair of glasses. It wasn't much of a disguise, but it was dark outside and no one would see her clearly. As long as she didn't get close to Birch, she'd be safe. She tucked the binoculars under her arm and patted the dog.

“Okay, Cheyenne, act like you belong here, honey.” With any luck, no one would pay attention to a couple walking their dog.

The entrance was wide enough for one vehicle to pass through. Evergreens flanked each side of the entrance. An asphalt lane divided the trailer park into two rows, with twelve units on each side. Casey shivered in the cool October air. Thankfully, it wouldn't take long to find Birch's place.

“What number is his trailer?” Lou murmured.

“Nineteen. Marie said he drives an old brown Dodge Dart.”

Floodlights on either side of the entrance provided more light than Casey wanted. She pulled her hood farther down, then taking Lou's arm, strolled down the middle of the lane. Even in mobile home parks, trailers were not created equal. Two were double-wides. Some had tiny porches on the side. One enterprising soul had installed fancy pane windows with shutters and flower boxes. The place was quiet; no loud music anywhere.

Casey said, “Judging from the numbers, Birch's place must be near the end on the left side.”

“Then let's stick to the right.”

“There it is,” she whispered. “Single-wide three from the end.”

Light came from a small window on the side nearest them. Open blinds covered the larger window overlooking the lane.

“There's his car.” Lou nodded toward the Dart in the carport next to the side door.

“I don't see anyone . . . Whoa.” Casey stopped. “Who's that?”

A woman in a white T-shirt strolled past the large window at the end of the trailer. Casey could see her profile and dark braided hair, and then the woman moved out of view.

“She wasn't wearing anything under her shirt,” Lou whispered.

“You noticed the double D-cup, huh?”

“Hard not to.”

True. Strolling past the trailer, she glanced at the windows. All were too high to see if Jeremy was up and about. They reached the end of the lane and turned around. A gust of wind rustled Casey's open jacket. Leaves fluttered in the trees behind them. Buttoning up, she looked at the ravine on the other side of the fence.

“Let's see if I can spot Birch or his guest.” She focused the binoculars on the smaller side window. “She's back in view and Birch is with her. Oh, he's kissing her.”

Cheyenne gave a loud bark and took off down the lane.

“She's after a raccoon!” Lou started running.

Casey raced after him. “I thought you had her leash.”

“I did, loosely.”

Afraid of attracting attention by yelling the dog's name, Casey kept quiet. Cheyenne disappeared between two single-wides. They caught up with her whimpering in front of the chain-link fence bordering the ravine. Casey grabbed her leash. Movement on the other side of the fence made Cheyenne bark. Crap. Everyone in the park would know they were here.

Casey knelt beside her. “Hush, Cheyenne.”

“The raccoon must have escaped through that hole.” Lou pointed to a small opening at the base of the fence.

Casey glanced at various trailer windows and froze. “We're being watched.”

Across the lane, a man stood in front of his window. Fighting the urge to dash for Lou's pickup, Casey strolled toward the exit. If they were lucky, Cheyenne's behavior wouldn't prompt anyone to confront them. She looked down the lane and saw a face peer out of Birch's window. Oh no, had he spotted them running past his place?

After they clambered into the truck, Casey said, “I wonder if the girl's just a hot date or his girlfriend.”

“Does it matter?”

“It could. What if Birch had an accomplice shoot Jasmine? Someone who'd do anything for him.”

“You really think that Noel is innocent?”

Casey stroked Cheyenne's head. “He seems sincere, and the evidence against him is a tad too convenient.”

“Aside from sincere, what else does he seem?”

Casey hesitated. Why was he asking? “Quiet, polite, intelligent. The complete opposite of Marie.” Lou's downcast expression surprised her. Was he a bit jealous, or did he think she was being naïve?

“Marie once told me he lost the use of his legs in a motorcycle crash,” Lou said. “It seems he had a passion for Harleys and speed.”

More candid conversations with Marie. How many other personal things had she shared with him? “Did she ever mention if Noel can get around with crutches or other support?”

“No.” Lou headed east toward Vancouver.

“Marie will go ballistic when I tell her that two strangers gave Birch a solid alibi.”

“You've dealt with her emotions before.”

“That doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it.”

•  •  •

“NO FRIGGIN' WAY!”
Marie shouted over the phone. “Birch can't be innocent!”

While Marie railed, Lou put his arm around Casey. He'd told her he wanted to hear Marie's response to tonight's events. Casey had a hunch he also wanted to make sure she didn't become further involved.

“Are you sure you didn't recognize the woman with Birch?” Marie asked.

“Yes.”

Marie sighed loudly into the receiver. “I'll call Child Protection Services and tell them about the woman. Maybe she's involved in Jasmine's death. Meanwhile, could you check out the half sister's alibi?”

“I don't think—”

“Since Gabrielle O'Reilly was in Coquitlam two days before the murder, and she and Jasmine argued, her activities should be investigated. God knows I can't count on the police to do it,” Marie said. “Maybe Gabrielle brought the pistol from home and stalked Jasmine until she saw her chance. That would explain how she learned about Noel and his van.”

“I can't do this anymore, Marie, I'm sorry.”

“But you've put my brother in deeper shit than he was before, so can't you please help him out a little more?”

Casey did feel guilty about that. “What if Gabrielle has an alibi and I make things worse?”

Lou wandered toward the guinea pig cages.

The line was silent a few seconds. “It makes me sick to say this, but then we'd have to look at coworkers' alibis.”

“No way, Roberto's a friend.”

Lou turned to her.

“David Eisler isn't anyone's friend,” Marie said.

“Do you have a reason for suspecting Eisler?” She watched Lou's eyes widen.

“After I had lunch with Jan today, yeah.”

Casey had shared a few coffee breaks with Eisler's administrative assistant. She knew that Jan loathed her boss.

“The day Jasmine died,” Marie said, “Eisler didn't come to work until noon, and Jan didn't know where he'd been. Apparently, he's been disappearing a lot lately.”

“That doesn't make him a killer.”

“It doesn't rule him out either. When he showed up at your place, something was obviously bothering his conscience.”

“Then tell your brother's lawyer about it.”

“We need more than one person working on Noel's behalf. He might have to sell his house to pay legal fees as it is. We really need your help, Casey.”

“Let me think it over.”

“Fine, but while you do, also think about what's happening to the life of an innocent man.” She hung up.

Casey retreated to the window seat.

“What does she want you to do?” Lou picked up Ralphie the guinea pig.

“Check out Gabrielle O'Reilly's and David Eisler's alibis. It seems that Eisler's pulled a few disappearing acts from work lately.”

As Lou stroked Ralphie, the critter began cooing. “Are you going to do it?”

“If I do, it won't be for Marie or Noel, but for Jasmine.” She paused. “Noel told me some things about her past and, well, she deserves whatever justice we can get for her.”

“What kind of things?”

Casey took a deep breath, and then told him about Jasmine's sexual abuse and the estrangement from her adopted family.

Lou kept stroking the guinea pig. “I had no idea.”

“Maybe Noel's the only one who knew. Anyway, if I can help find her killer then maybe I should.”

“What if Marie's only interested in making sure that people look at everyone except her brother? If you prove that Gabrielle and Eisler aren't killers, who will she tell you to go after next? Wesley and Roberto?”

“What's so wrong with establishing their innocence?”

Lou rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “Casey, you've worked with Roberto and Wesley a long time. If you start checking into their alibis, you'll create bad blood.”

“Shouldn't the search for truth count for something?”

“Sure, but it's not your job to find it.”

“The police think they have their man, and Noel can't afford to hire a
PI
. Will it really matter if I ask a couple more discreet questions?”

Lou's eyes narrowed. “It will if that question freaks out a murderer. What if someone fires a bullet through Summer's window?” Lou placed Ralphie in Casey's lap.

“You're right.”

“Can I stay the night?” he asked. “I'm too beat to drive.”

“You don't need a reason, and thanks for coming with me tonight.”

He headed for the bedroom. “I'd do anything for you, you know that.”

She did know and was grateful. As Lou left the room, Ralphie nestled in her lap. Casey touched his fur and began to pat him. His soft cooing made her smile. Ralphie had never cooed for her before.

“Maybe things will work out, huh, Ralphie? Maybe I can prove Noel's and Roberto's and Wesley's innocence, and then things can get back to normal. What do ya think?”

A warm wet puddle seeped into her jeans.