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"Forgive me, Missus Griffith, but I need to ask," Armen said. "Was your daughter involved romanti-cally with Edmund Sheridan?"
Rhiannon shook her head vehemently. "Absolutely not! She considered Edmund immature. The boy has had a crush on her since . . .well since forever, but she's never reciprocated. I know my daughter."
Rhiannon's last a.s.sertion seemed to beg the ques-tion. Bonnie had talked to hundreds, maybe thousands of parents in her career, and whenever she heard one claiming to definitively know their child, just the op-posite often proved to be the case.
Tears welled in Rhiannon's eyes.
She's scared to death she maybe doesn't know Ali at all. Bonnie laid a hand on Rhiannon's knee. "I be-lieve you, and what's more I believe Ali told the truth about the break-in." Bonnie laid a hand on Rhiannon's knee. "I be-lieve you, and what's more I believe Ali told the truth about the break-in."
Rhiannon covered Bonnie's hand with her own. Her dark eyes were full of grat.i.tude. "Just when I think you might be the biggest queen a.s.shole in the known universe, you go and say something like that."
"I'll take that as a compliment." She patted Rhian-non's hand. "You're not such a royal sphincter yourself."
Rhiannon chuckled and wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. "I think part of the reason I got so mad at you is because Ali chose her uncle over me."
"That makes perfect sense. No point getting mad at Warlock Winston when I'm available."
Rhiannon's smile faded. "I've got to tell you. I'm more than a little scared." She gave Bonnie an up-from- under glance.
"I know." Bonnie patted her hand again.
No one spoke as they made their way through Colo-rado Springs. Eventually, Armen turned Alice onto the street which fronted Jade Hill. The large concrete and pale brick edifice sprawled the entire block and towered four stories above them. "We're here, boys and girls."
A FEMALE OFFICER CRADLED A PHONE ON FRANKLIN'S desk as Bonnie, Armen, and Rhiannon approached. Jesse Poole sat with his back to the trio, but turned at their footfalls. In his left hand he held a glazed donut, in his right a cup of coffee. He stood.
The female officer-her nametag ID'd her as Zettlemoyer-came around the desk. "Are either of you Missus Griffith?"
Rhiannon raised a hand.
"Would you come with me, ma'am?" Zettlemoyer walked off without waiting to see if Rhiannon was in her wake.
Rhiannon followed.
Bonnie leaned her crutches against the desk and plopped into a seat next to Jesse. "You don't look any worse for wear. How are you holding up?"
The boy shrugged a things-could-be-worse shrug. "Those cops, Valsecci and Keene, asked me a lot of ques-tions, mostly about where I was last night. They also wanted to know what time you guys came by. I kept telling them I had no idea how or why Edmund ended up under my trailer. I think they believe me now." He sighed and took a monster bite from the donut.
I'm starting to believe you myself.
Armen pulled up a chair and sat to the other side of Jesse. "Of course they did. You've got one of those believable faces, or maybe it's just the bald head."
Jesse hooked his thumb at Armen. "Is he giving me sh . . . a hard time?"
It was Bonnie's turn to shrug. "I'm not always sure. Are you giving him a shahard time?"
"Absolutely not. Do I look like a shahard time-giver?"
Bonnie waggled her hand. "Around the eyes."
She slapped Jesse's knee. "You ready to go, or will you be having another donut?"
Jesse shoved the last bit into his mouth and licked his fingers. "This was the last one in the box, but we can't go yet. Valsecci wants to talk with you."
He does, does he?
She leaned past Jesse to peer at Armen. "We can spare Franklin a smidgen of our precious time, can't we?"
Armen leaned back in his chair. "I have no desires but to await upon your pleasure."
"I suspected as much."
Smiling, Jesse looked from Armen back to Bonnie. "Are you guys-"
"Don't ask, young man." Bonnie nodded past the desk in the direction Rhiannon had gone. "Did you see Ali Griffith in your travels?"
"I know she's here somewhere. Valsecci told me. I think he wanted to see my reaction."
"And what was your reaction?"
"I was surprised. Ali wouldn't hurt anyone. One of Wicca's first rules is that you never do harm."
There was something in the way Jesse said Ali's name that made Bonnie regard the boy for a long mo-ment. She tried to get a handle on the boy who had fooled her all this time into thinking he was a throw-back to a prehistoric ancestor. Evidently, he knew a thing or two about witchcraft.
"Rhiannon tells me she's spotted you once or twice hanging around her place."
"I didn't do anything wrong." Jesse stared down at his shoes, his arms folded tight across his chest.
Not if you don't count trespa.s.sing. "No one's say-ing you did. I'm thinking you could have just told Ali or Rhiannon you were interested in their beliefs." "No one's say-ing you did. I'm thinking you could have just told Ali or Rhiannon you were interested in their beliefs."
"Who says I am?"
Why does everything have to be so hard? Another time she might have bandied words with Jesse, perhaps cajoled him into admitting his interest, but right now she was too tired to play games. Another time she might have bandied words with Jesse, perhaps cajoled him into admitting his interest, but right now she was too tired to play games.
"Have it your way."
Bonnie looked up at the sound of approaching foot-falls. Appearing decidedly less dapper than he had last night or even this morning, Franklin sat heavily at his desk. His tie was loosened, his collar open. Even the normally perfect thinning red hair was mussed.
"When do you sleep, youngster?"
As if he felt her staring at his hair, he ran a freckled hand through it. "I'll sleep when these cases are in the bag." He peered momentarily at Armen and nodded by way of greeting.
"Officer," Armen shot back.
Good G.o.d. I can't go through this testosterone nonsense again. "You wanted to see us?" "You wanted to see us?"
Franklin hoisted himself to his feet, fixing his gaze on Jesse. "Jess, I need to speak to these two privately. We won't be long."
Armen mugged at Bonnie as if to say, "Look who's being included."
Bonnie gathered her crutches. "Lead on, Sergeant Valsecci."
She and Armen followed Franklin into a gla.s.sed-in office.
Once in, Franklin shut the door behind them. He offered them a pair of seats, but stood himself. A yellow legal pad sat on a gray vinyl desk. Franklin flipped past the first page then extracted a pen from a s.h.i.+rt pocket. "What time did you visit Jesse Poole last night?"
Bonnie glanced at Armen, and he silently replied with a your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine look.
"About eight, make it eight-thirty," she said.
"You don't sound too sure."
She frowned at her former student. "Let's just say before nine."
Franklin wrote on the legal pad. "And what time did you get back to the trailer park after going to the morgue?"
Before she could answer, Armen spoke. "Some time after one in the morning."
Bonnie shot him a questioning look, and he said, "I remember because when I took the ca.s.serole out of the fridge I saw the clock on the stove. In fact, now that I think of it, it was exactly one-twelve."
A half smile made a brief appearance on Franklin's face as he wrote again on the pad. "Very precise. Did either of you, by chance, catch a glimpse of Jesse's trailer when you got back?"
Bonnie and Armen both shook their heads. The ramifications of Franklin's question sent a chill up Bonnie's spine. While she was luxuriating in Armen's canopied bed, there was a good chance, not five hun-dred feet away, someone was cramming Edmund Sheridan's lifeless body into the crawls.p.a.ce beneath the Poole trailer.
"Do you know what time Edmund died?" she asked.
Franklin blinked, looking like a man who desper-ately needed a few hours sleep. "Our lab has placed the time of death around eight o'clock Sat.u.r.day night."
Bonnie gave Armen a quick glance. So much for the theory Edmund died the same night as Stephanie and Peyton. So much for the theory Edmund died the same night as Stephanie and Peyton. She sorted through the hours of the previ-ous evening realizing as Edmund breathed his last she was dancing to Van Morrison. She sorted through the hours of the previ-ous evening realizing as Edmund breathed his last she was dancing to Van Morrison.
"Do you have any idea how long Edmund lay be-neath Jesse's trailer?"
Franklin shook his head. "Not really. Jesse says he went to bed around midnight. If he's to be believed, then the body was probably hidden after that."
If he's to be believed? "Youngster, you don't re-ally think Jesse killed Edmund then did that incredibly sloppy job of hiding the body . . . under his own trailer, no less?" "Youngster, you don't re-ally think Jesse killed Edmund then did that incredibly sloppy job of hiding the body . . . under his own trailer, no less?"
Franklin stared at her and shook his head again. "Truth be told, I have my doubts, and not just because of the body's placement."
His eyes went soft as a yawn stretched his face. "When Poole eventually murders someone, he'll prob-ably beat them to death with his bare hands."
Bonnie studied Franklin's face, wondering if he re-ally believed, as she once did, that Jesse was a loose cannon just waiting to explode. "That boy'll surprise you someday, youngster. Do you know he wants to be a fireman?"
"I knew his father was one. I met him a few times at the Service Olympics. Good man."
"Do you know how the father died?" Armen leaned forward.
Franklin fixed Armen with a blank gaze then nodded. "About a year and half ago, around Christ-mas, remember that big fire at the Salvation Army? A ten-year old girl in a wheel chair was trapped in the building. Todd Poole and another fireman went back in after her. The roof collapsed. All three died."
Bonnie sat quietly wondering, not for the first time, how much grief a young man was supposed to endure. How would I have turned out if both my parents were taken from me while I was still in high school? How would I have turned out if both my parents were taken from me while I was still in high school? She reaffirmed her decision to move heaven and earth to help the boy. She reaffirmed her decision to move heaven and earth to help the boy.
Armen raised a tentative hand like a child who might or might not want to voice a question.
"You implied you didn't think Jesse killed Edmund because Jesse would have beaten him to death. Are we to a.s.sume that Edmund wasn't beaten to death?"
Franklin looked uncomfortable at this new ques-tion. "No, Edmund wasn't beaten to death."
He crammed his hands in his pockets and walked to the window, his back to the rest of the room. "Missus P, do you remember remarking on that snarl contort-ing Edmund Sheridan's face."
The image came clear in Bonnie's mind. "How can I forget?"
"Well, the coroner thought that significant as well, and confirmed what I suspected-poison. Edmund Sheridan ingested a significant amount of a.r.s.enic."
CHAPTER 16.
BONNIE STRUGGLED FROM THE SUBARU, the stained-gla.s.s windows of Geraldine's Cafe s.h.i.+mmering and beckoning like a long hoped for oasis. G.o.d, I'm so hungry I could eat vegan road kill. G.o.d, I'm so hungry I could eat vegan road kill.
Winston's white-on-white caddy slipped into an adjacent parking spot. Rhiannon powered down the window and called, "I trust this place ain't as hoity-toity as it looks, Pinkwater." Her smiling face belied the mock hostility in her voice.
"Give it a rest, Mother." Ali Griffith emerged from the Cadillac looking like someone who'd been pulled through a strainer and stretched out to dry. Dark circles outlined the girl's eyes. She let Winston take her arm as she dragged her feet across the parking lot. "Let's just eat lunch in peace."
Rhiannon hurried to catch up with her daughter. "Sure thing, baby."
A moment of regret captured Bonnie's thoughts. Was it really a good idea to invite the Griffiths to lunch? I definitely don't need this drama. Was it really a good idea to invite the Griffiths to lunch? I definitely don't need this drama. The tim-ing had seemed so right. Ali had been released from questioning almost to the minute that Franklin finished with Bonnie and Armen. Now Bonnie wasn't so sure. She tried to dispel the negative thought, telling herself it had been a long morning for everyone, especially Ali and Rhiannon. Some good food would set everything to rights. The tim-ing had seemed so right. Ali had been released from questioning almost to the minute that Franklin finished with Bonnie and Armen. Now Bonnie wasn't so sure. She tried to dispel the negative thought, telling herself it had been a long morning for everyone, especially Ali and Rhiannon. Some good food would set everything to rights.
Armen and Jesse caught up with Bonnie, and Armen laid a hand on the small of her back. Funny how such a small gesture could feel so right. She wished she didn't have to contend with these d.a.m.n crutches so she could take his hand in hers.
As they approached Geraldine's, the double oak and stained-gla.s.s doors swung open toward them. Molly Sheridan in her wheelchair sat squarely in the doorway. Awkward second piled upon awkward second as the girl glared first at Ali then at Bonnie. Rue and Jack Sheridan, Molly's short and solidly built parents, stood behind the chair trapped in the restaurant's foyer.
Ali had often gone toe-to-toe with goat-ropers who made the mistake of criticizing her beliefs, but right now she seemed to shrivel under Molly's hard gaze. "I'm sorry about your brother, Molly."
"I'll bet you are, witch girl, but you're going to be a whole lot sorrier." Molly spit the words out as though they tasted sour in her mouth. She grabbed the rims of her wheels and without a look at anyone else, spun past Bonnie, jumping the curb into the parking lot.
Rue Sheridan, clinging tight to her husband's arm, nodded and followed her daughter.
Bonnie turned to Armen. "Go on in, I'll be along in a second."
"Are you sure about this?"
"You kidding? I haven't been sure about anything since I woke up this morning." She rubbed his arm. "Find us a seat. I won't be long. I promise"
Armen held the door, and one by one Jesse, Ali, and Winston disappeared from view.