The Death Dealer

“But he’ll get out, won’t he?” Genevieve said.

 

 

“As soon as we get back, I’m going to talk to him and try to get him to trip himself up. And if I don’t, I’m going to write up all the circumstantial evidence we have, which hopefully will be enough for the D.A.’s office to get a search warrant for his place and maybe even hold him.” Joe looked around the table. “They found out that one of the Bigelows, using Jared’s credit card, rented a Poe costume in Richmond and again in New York.”

 

Genevieve let out her breath softly. “So Jared did do it. Oh, God. He dressed up like Poe and met Lori Star, and then…”

 

She wondered if she looked as sick as she felt. Probably.

 

Their waitress arrived with their food. They ate quickly, then returned to the car and hit the road.

 

Adam promised that as soon as they got back he would get on the computer and start trying to place the Bigelows in Baltimore when Bradley Hicks had met his untimely demise, and also find out if Bigelow’s credit card had been used to rent a Poe costume there, too.

 

When they reached the station and Joe got out, he paused and held Gen’s eyes for a long moment. “Genevieve—”

 

“I know,” she interrupted softly. “I’ll be careful.”

 

He nodded. “I have my cell,” he said. “Call if you need me. For anything.”

 

“I can’t believe this might really be over,” Genevieve breathed as Brent got behind the wheel and swung the car out into traffic.

 

“Maybe. We’ll have to see,” Brent said. He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Want to come back to Adam’s place with us?”

 

She smiled. “Thank you, but no. I want to get home. Call my mom and talk for a bit. And no one has to babysit me, not tonight, anyway. Jared Bigelow is in jail.”

 

Adam frowned. “We think we’re on to the right man. We don’t know it yet. Genevieve—”

 

“I know,” she said firmly. “I’m just going to go home, talk to my mother and…reconcile myself, I guess.”

 

“To?” Nikki asked.

 

“Life—and death,” Genevieve told her.

 

Brent got the doorman to watch the car and carried her bag up, then went into the apartment with her, looked around to be sure it was safe, then smiled. “You going to be okay? I know it’s got to be tough, getting used to seeing a different world.”

 

“I’m going to be fine. But you and Nikki aren’t leaving right away, are you?”

 

“No. We’ll stay a few days.” He sobered. “We still have to make sure the case against Jared will stand up in court.”

 

“Right.”

 

He kissed her cheek. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”

 

“I’ll do that.”

 

A few minutes later, alone in her apartment, Genevieve made a cup of tea and then called Eileen. She didn’t tell her mother that she had started seeing ghosts. She simply told her that they might have found some solid evidence against Jared Bigelow.

 

“Jared!” Eileen said. Genevieve could imagine her mother’s stricken expression.

 

“Mom, you can’t say it’s a terrible shock, that he’s such a nice guy.”

 

“No, I suppose not. Does that mean I can go out with the other Ravens now? Maybe get a drink at O’Malley’s?” Eileen asked.

 

Genevieve hesitated. “Mom, they may not be able to keep Jared in jail past tonight.”

 

“All the more reason to head out now, then. Darling, I’m going stir-crazy.”

 

“Oh, Mom, I don’t know….”

 

“I’ll call for a car and have Henry walk me straight to it, and I’ll have it drop me off right at the door to O’Malley’s. I’ll even have it wait until I’m ready to go home, and get someone to walk me back to it, and I’ll call Henry and have him meet me when I come back. How’s that?”

 

“I suppose that will be all right.”

 

“Why don’t you join us?” Eileen asked.

 

“I don’t know. I think I’ll probably just hang out here.”

 

“All right. But you’re welcome to come if you change your mind.”

 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Genevieve promised.

 

They bade each other good-night, and Genevieve hung up the phone and started unpacking. When the phone rang a few minutes later, she hurried to answer it, hoping it was Joe.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Genevieve?” It was a woman’s voice, but not one she recognized.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You wretched bitch!”

 

Stunned, she stared at the receiver, then hurriedly put the phone down. When it rang again, she didn’t answer it, just let her machine click on and waited.

 

“You stupid wretched bitch! You were jealous of me, and I know it. You made that friend of yours come after Jared.”

 

She realized that the caller had been drinking.

 

She also realized it was Mary Vincenzo.

 

Heather Graham's books