Page 88 of Wicked Games

“And land,” Seth says suddenly, his eyes widening in realization. “At the last minute her attorney said she wanted some land I bought in southern Minnesota. I had no fucking clue why she wanted it, but she didn’t want it for herself. Vale told her to ask for it.”

“Could be,” Detective LaSalle murmurs, adding, Death=Money+Land. “It all sounds good, but proving it is another matter. We can corner him into a confession, but that’s nothing without evidence. All he’d say is that he was pushed into it, and a guy that good-looking, mourning his dead, murdered, wife, a jury would let him off with no problem.”

“You have the gun, and I’ll testify,” I say. Seth lets go of Violet’s hand and rounds the table. He nudges me to my feet and wraps his arms around me.

“We have the gun, but Miss Crandall is just another rogue piece of the puzzle.” He scribbles CC-former employee under the Misc heading in the corner of the paper. “She was passed out when we found her, and after she sobered up, she couldn’t tell us anything. She was in the wrong place at the right time, and we let her go. Plus, there’s nothing right now linking your attack to Vale. Unless we find something that ties all this together, it’s conjecture.”

“But it’s possible,” Seth says, his voice rumbling under my ear.

“It’s more than possible,” Detective LaSalle agrees, “but proving it will be something else.”

“And if you can’t?” Bill asks. “They were already after Avery once. She won’t be able to hide forever.”

“No, she won’t, and obviously, we don’t want him to get off scot-free either. We don’t know why Mrs. Maitland was killed. It could be that the kidnappers killed her on their own because they were afraid she’d go to the police, or Vale paid them to do it because he was already doing damage control and didn’t want her pointing fingers when he got Mrs. Vale out of the way. We may never know for sure, and I’m truly sorry for that, Mr. Maitland.”

Bill blows out a breath and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “I didn’t want her involved in Theo’s kidnapping.”

“Maybe she did it because she considered Mrs. Vale a friend, or maybe she went along because she knew Mrs. Vale wouldn’t back down and she really did want to make sure that little boy was safe through the whole thing. But, I’d say, just try to move on. We aren’t going to know her true intentions.”

“Then I have no choice.”

“Will you be at Brooke’s funeral tomorrow?” Seth asks.

Detective LaSalle presses the wrapping paper against the edge of the table and rips off the section he wants to keep. “I’ll be there. Don’t approach Vale or think you’ll get him to confess. All you’ll do is tell him we’re on to him and any evidence that might still be out there will disappear. Seeing Mrs. McKay alive, maybe not well, but not at the bottom of a lake, might make him slip up, and that’s the best we can hope for right now.”

Seth stiffens and I know we’re going to talk about me going to the funeral, but I think Detective LaSalle could be right. Seeing me will put him on the defensive and he could make a mistake trying to cover up what he’s done.

“I’ll touch base with you tomorrow after the funeral. Thank you for including me,” he says sarcastically, heading toward the door. “If you come up with anything else, I’d appreciate it if you let me know.”

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Seth holds out his hand to shake, and the detective does so, reluctantly. There’s no reason for him to be bitter. We didn’t do any more work than he did—we just managed to put the pieces together. Whether they create the right picture or not remains to be seen.

“Goodnight,” the detective says, stepping into the hallway and closing the door.

“I’m going to take off too,” Bill says, patting me on the back. “Thanks for letting me know you’d be here.”

“Yeah, of course. Are you going to Brooke’s funeral?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t know her well, and at this point, being seen with you might do more harm than good. I’ll send flowers and take it from there.”

“I appreciate that. It was good to meet you,” Seth says, shaking Bill’s hand. “I’m sorry about Hattie. Even if she was mixed up in what Brooke was doing, she didn’t deserve to die. You have my condolences, you really do.”

“Thanks. You have mine too. I don’t know what kind of person Brooke was, but in my opinion, you leveled up. Be good to her,” Bill says, jerking his chin at me.

Seth wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Count on it.”

Violet shakes Bill’s hand in goodbye and she follows me into the kitchen. Silently, she helps me wash the coffee cups and the plates we used for dinner.

“Are you taking off?” Seth asks her, rolling up the wrapping paper that was lying on the floor.

“Yeah. I’ll catch Walker up on what we found out, and we’ll meet you at the church. There’s going to be a burial at the cemetery afterward that we should probably go to. I’ll have Duane drop a suit off for you.”

“Thanks. That should be all I need. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Seth and I walk with her through the living room, and glancing quickly at me, she swipes a kiss over Seth’s cheek and hurries out the door.

After having so many people in the apartment for the past few hours, the silence sounds strange, and we’re back to that place in the evening when it’s too early to go to bed but too late to do much of anything else.

“Do you have your laptop? You can do some work, if you feel like it, or if you want something to read, I have quite a few books in the bedroom I use for an office.” I drop down on the couch.