How lucky was I, with only Cosmo to answer to.
Chapter 28
Harper and Reina ushered us into their apartment. “If we’re needed downstairs, Pilar will call us,” Harper said.
Reina lit sage scented candles as we sat in a circle.
“What’s the verdict, oh wise witch of Willowmere?” Ange asked me.
“Here’s what we know. The killer picked Candice on purpose to serve as a scapegoat, and he piled up a lot of evidence against her. To do that, he had to be aware of her relationship to the victim, the ‘candid’ photos, and also of the facts that she’d bought the chest Tim was found in and that she’d handled the letter opener.”
“Not necessarily,” Ange pointed out. “The chest would have come in handy anyway, to hide the body in, no matter who bought it or where it was delivered. The same goes for the letter opener.”
“I agree with Bex. It all fits together too well,” Reina said. She shuddered. “No wonder the policehaven’t looked elsewhere.”
“I think the killer will find that he was overdoing it a little bit.” I showed the picture of the murder weapon around. “It’s likely that his prints are still on it.”
“But you said there were smudges from gloves,” Ange said.
“He wore gloves when he murdered Tim, but I think it’s more likely that he didn’t wear them when he stole the letter opener.”
“Why not wipe them all?” Harper asked.
I smiled grimly. “That’s what I was wondering until I realized he left them on purpose, because they pointed so clearly at Candice. If he’d have wiped off his prints, he’d have destroyed hers too.”
“What about if he wore gloves for the theft?” Reina wondered.
“He might have, but most of the customers at the fair didn’t. It would have been more conspicuous, even if he’d planned to steal a possible weapon. I believe he noticed Candice holding the letter opener and used his chance to add one more thing to frame her.”
Ange nodded. “That makes sense. You say ‘he’. Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty certain. What’s more likely, that Tim would show private images of his girlfriends to other women or that he’d use them to brag to men?”
“Heck, yes.” Harper snorted.
“That means we’re looking for a man who met with Tim at the motel, who was at the fair at the same time as Candice, and who was in a position to be blackmailed,” Reina concluded.
“That’s the gist of it. Sam has confirmed that the soil sample he tested contained enough nasty stuff to make people sick after prolonged exposure. He suspects an old dumping site that’s been dug up. Apparently, lots of things are harmless enough when they’re buried in the soil and remain untouched, but move them around and get them airborne, and hey presto, you’re looking at a real health hazard.” I silently thanked Sam for his concise, unscientific explanation.
“What I don’t understand is how Tim could know if a site is contaminated. It’s not as if you can see micro particles, and if people were already getting sick, it would have been in the news,” Reina said.
“That struck me too until I remembered what Skye had said about Tim’s dad who used to do clean-ups on such sites. I think it’s likely that Tim knew exactly where the metaphorical skeletons were buried and he used that to put the thumb screws on his victim. Only he chose the wrong guy. Instead of becoming rich he ended up dead.”
“Very clever.” Harper smiled. “How about we all write down who we suspect and then we’ll see if we’ve been able to follow your deductions.”
Reina rose to fetch a notepad and three pens. She folded and tore a sheet of paper into three equal pieces and handed them out.
She, Harper, and Ange shielded their writing from each other, folded the paper strips and put them down.
I opened them one by one and read them out. They all contained the same name. Charles Martin Pratt, aka Champ.
“He’s our man,” I confirmed.
“Hooray. That is, if you’re willing to hand the case over to the police,” Harper said.
I nodded. “I can’t wait to dump all the evidence in Trey Stone’s lap.”
“You’re not going to the Cannon Hill police?” Ange asked.
