Page 109 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

But Marla was right. Elyse did plan to double-cross her. Did want the police to blame all the murders on her. Why not? It was Marla’s relationship with her relatives that created the motive. Nobody knew Elyse was involved. They thought Mary Smith was Marla.

Elyse couldn’t take it anymore, so when Marla ordered her to get the kid to stop crying, she hustled him upstairs again.

“Go home!” he sobbed. “Me go home!”

“We’re going to my place.”

“No-o-o!”

“Shhhh!”

It was dark now. The ground was wet, but the rain had ceased for the moment as Elyse hauled a whimpering B.J. back to her car. She strapped him into the damn car seat. Couldn’t risk getting pulled over for not having him properly buckled in. Jesus, the rules they had these days.

Why did anyone ever have a child?

Across the way she saw someone peeking through the blinds of the old biddy’s house, the lady with the cat. The bitch was watching her! Infuriated, Elyse jumped behind the wheel.

“Shut up,” she warned B.J., who gazed at her with big eyes.

“Bad word,” he said.

Yeah, well, he was just lucky she hadn’t said the phrase that leapt to her tongue.

Damn! She could see the old bitch now as she’d pulled the blinds up and was watching Elyse like a hawk, her pointy face aimed in Elyse’s direction.

Had she seen the kid?

Carefully, Elyse backed out of her driveway, resisting the urge to flip the old crone the bird. She had things to do. Family business to take care of.

And nobody was going to get in her way.

Cissy watched dully from the apartment parking lot as CSI techs did their work and the detectives canvassed the area, searching for witnesses, information. Jack was with her, his arms pulling her close. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out her fear.

Everyone kept urging her to go home, get some food, get some sleep, take care of herself, but Cissy couldn’t leave. Jack was one of the few people who understood. He stayed by her side as the afternoon wore into evening and evening into night.

It was only when a weary Detective Paterno made the effort to bring them up to date that both Cissy and Jack knew there was nothing left for them here.

“We’ve canvassed the area,” Paterno told them. “Checked with the neighbors. People around the area.”

“Did they see B.J.?” Cissy asked urgently.

“Several of them remember seeing a woman carrying a boy about B.J.’s age from her car. The description fits Miss Watson and your son.”

“And?” Cissy gazed at him.

“She carried him into her apartment.”

“Did they see anything else?” Jack asked.

“Not really. One of them reported seeing a silver car, but she wasn’t specific about the make and model.”

“A silver car,” Jack repeated. “Like the one used by Mary Smith.”

Paterno nodded. “A lot of silver cars out there,” he reminded.

“The neighbor, Corinne Glenn, heard a ‘pop.’ Maybe the gunshot,” Jack said. “Anybody else?”

Paterno shook his head. “We’re still checking with people. But the crime scene’s off-limits. There’s no reason for you to stay.”

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