“And you opened it? You opened my mail.”
“I had to know.”
Cliff banged his forehead on the table. When he looked up at Street, he had a faraway look in his eye. “She was a tease, flirting and coming on to me and my friends at the brewery. When she came upon me fishing, I waved, and she waved back, and we started talking again. She was still flirty, but she didn’t mean it. One thing led to another and before I knew it, it happened, and when I realized what I’d done, I panicked. She was crying and I … I knew I had messed up big time. I had to shut her up. If anyone found out about my career…my hopes of following in my father’s …my grandfather’s footsteps were over. That’s when I picked up the rock and hit her on the head. She screamed and I hit her again and again until she stopped. The rest was a blur.”
“Did you ever consider the fact that Heather Randall is a very friendly person? Everyone who was interviewed who knew her described her that way. Do you know the difference between being friendly and being flirty?” Agent Street asked.
“I-I guess I don’t.” Cliff hung his head for a moment then he looked back up. “Even that reporter came on to me the other morning.”
“You were being played, Cliff, she was trying to get information out of you,” Delacorte said. “Not every woman who bats her eyes at you is interested.”
Quinn swallowed.She never imagined he’d come clean after he was so adamant that he didn’t do it. And when he did, he tried to blame it on the victim. Hell, he even tried to blame her for their encounter the other morning at the diner.
She pulled out her phone and called Heather Randall’s parents’ phone number. She wanted to let them know immediately their daughter’s killer had been caught. It rang several times before it was finally answered.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Randall, I’m Quinlan Moynahan withThe Altoona Observer, how are you today?”
“Okay, I guess. Feeling numb still. They found Heather’s body.”
“I know. And that’s why I’m calling. They have her killer in custody in Altoona. I’m sure you’ll be getting a call soon from FBI agent Keaton Street. He’s still in interrogation with him. But the guy just confessed. I wanted you to know right away.”
“That’s good news,” she said. “I’ll have to tell my husband you were right.”
“You don’t have to do that, Mrs. Randall. And I wasn’t calling for that reason at all. I just wanted you to know that justice is being done on Heather’s behalf.”
“I appreciate that. I do. I need to go. I’m very tired,” she said. “Thank you for calling me.”
“You’re welcome. Take care.”
She hung up and smiled at Grimm. “I think she was on medication. She was too mellow.”
“Her daughter was murdered, I’m sure her doctor has prescribed her something to deal with it,” Grimm said.
Quinn nodded.
Detective Phillips turned off the volume to the interrogation room. “I have the results of your cat’s necropsy if you are interested?”
“What was Bathsheba given?”
“It’s funny you should say that. The ME was expecting the cat to have been injected with something lethal, but instead, she’d ingested catnip laced with rat poison. He believes that the smell of the catnip covered the smell of the poison, so she didn’t notice.”
“Did she suffer?” Quinn asked.
“He believes it happened quickly. That the catnip made her go to sleep and the poison did the rest.”
“Vile woman,” she muttered. “There is no reason for her to have done that to my cat.”
“I know there is nothing we can say or do to take the hurt away, but when it all comes down to it, you got off far luckier than anyone else,” Detective Phillips said.
“It isn’t that I’m not grateful for that fact,” Quinn said. “I still would like to scratch her eyes out.”
“How very catty of you,” Grimm said, pulling her to him.
“Thank you for allowing us to view the interrogation again today. I know this won’t happen again,” Quinn said. “And I just hope we won’t find ourselves in another situation like this any time soon.”
“Don’t we all,” Detective Phillips said, walking them toward the door. “Let me know if you have any follow-up information that you need.”
