SUMMER HAVEN POLICE DEPARTMENT
FRIDAY, 3:55 PM
Silas and Becca looked at Spenser Blakely through the two-way mirror on the other side of the interrogation room. The overweight, balding man, oblivious to their presence, looked an absolute mess. His clothes and hair were disheveled. His face was smeared with blood and dirt. His white shirt was torn at the sleeves and ripped down his torso.
He sat in his chair, shifting every so often in an attempt to get comfortable, but could never seem to find the right position. Sweat glistened down his forehead as his eyes darted back and forth in the room.
“He looks a bit nervous, don’t you think?” Silas asked.
“Wouldn’t you?” Becca turned to Sergeant Tanner. “The blood? Did he resist arrest?”
Jeremy shook his head. “No. He was like that when we found him. When we showed up, he practically jumped in my patrol car begging me to take him to the station.”
Silas glanced down at the officer’s arms. They were clasped in front of him as he stood at attention in front of his superior, those infernal long sleeves blocking any view of the tattoos that graced his skin.
“And where exactly did you find him?” Silas asked, turning his attention back to the suspect. “At his house?”
“Sort of,” the sergeant said. “He was hiding in an old treehouse in back of his property. The thing was built back when the Parsons used to own the place.” He chuckled. “If Larry hadn’t heard something shuffling around up there, we might never have found him.”
“I’ll have to remember to compliment him on a job well done,” Becca said. “Has Blakely said anything?”
Jeremy shook his head again.
“What about the lab work on the knives…the one found in Andrea’s body and the ones we found in her house and Blakely’s collection? Are they back yet?”
The sergeant handed her a file folder. “Yep. And found DNA that matched his on the dagger found in Alvarez’s travel chest too.”
Becca offered a conservative nod, but Silas could tell she was pleased at the news.
“Lawyered up?”
“Nope. Says he wants to talk to you as soon as possible. Alone.”
Silas’ eyes narrowed. “Well now, that’s rather unexpected,” he said.
“Not about wanting to see me alone,” she replied with a half-smile. “You have a certain way of making people not want to be around you. But I am rather surprised he wants to talk at all. He’s shown nothing but arrogance toward me and my father for years. If I was a betting woman, I would have laid odds on him asking for a lawyer straight away.”
“Me?” He brought his hand to chest, aghast. “I’m the picture of charismatic charm.”
“Yeah, right.” Becca turned toward the door. “Well, let’s not keep the good man waiting.”
Silas began to follow, but she stopped him with her hand. “Not this time, Dr. Doom. It’s too important. I don’t want to spook him. That means you’ll be sitting this one out.”
“But…”
She gave him a look, then turned to Jeremy. “Keep an eye on him, will ya?”
The sergeant nodded, grinning. “Will do, Chief.”
With that said, she exited the observation room and made her way to interrogate the suspect.
Silas watched as Becca opened the door to the interrogation room and took her usual seat at the bolted-down table. An expression of instant relief washed over Blakely’s face at the sight of her.
“Chief, thank God you’re finally here,” he said. He tried to raise his hands as he spoke but was limited by the handcuffs chaining him to the table.
“Really? Then why were you hiding from me all this time?”
“I wasn’t!” His response was instant. “Not from you. I wasn’t hiding from you.”
“She is rather brilliant at interrogation, isn’t she?” Silas said to Jeremy, who hovered just behind him at the window, but the police officer said nothing in response.
“If you weren’t hiding from me, then who?” Becca said, bringing Silas back to the interview.
“I can’t tell you that. Not now anyway. Not here.” Blakely’s eyes drifted around the room as if half-expecting a specter to lunge from the shadows to murder him right there on the spot.
Then again, maybe he is expecting a specter of sorts, Silas thought, casting a backwards glance at the taciturn police sergeant.
“I’m not buying it, Mr. Blakely,” Becca continued, waving her hand up and down in front of his face to garner his undivided attention. “All this. This act you’ve got going. We’ve seen your sanctum. We’ve found your stash of bilongo dolls in your print shop. This scared little innocent act isn’t going to work on me.”
“No, no. You don’t understand. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Blakely said. “But I need something in return.”
Becca’s brow wrinkled. “You need something from me?”
The newspaper man nodded. “Yes. Yes. I need to get away from here. As soon as possible. Prison is fine. I’d just rather not be anywhere near here while I’m incarcerated.”
Becca opened her mouth to speak, then closed it before looking back at the two-way glass. She was clearly as stumped by this turn of events as Silas. It was, for a lack of a better term, unexpected to say the least.
She returned her attention back to the suspect. “Okay, fine,” she said. “So, tell me. Why did you kill Andrea Alvarez?”
“I didn’t.”
“Mr. Blakely, you just told me you were going to tell me everything and you start off with a lie?”
“I swear! I didn’t kill her.”
“Look, we know about the Ebo knife you switched out from your collection to Andrea’s. Your DNA is all over it.” She opened the ever-present file in front of her and thumbed through a handful of pages. “We found the chicken blood you used to pour on her at the beach. And even the candles in your sanctum were the same brand as those found at the scene.”
“Yes, I stabbed her. I moved her to the beach and simulated a ritualistic sacrifice,” he said. “But she was already dead when I did it. You have to believe me.”
“Why do criminals always say that?” She closed the folder. “Actually, Mr. Blakely, I don’t have to believe you. That’s part of my job description. What I do have to believe is the evidence and right now, it all points to you.”
“Ask him about Elaine Shepherd,” Silas shouted, knowing full well she couldn’t hear him. He growled in frustration. Not being part of the interrogation that he’d worked so hard for was maddening. “Ask him about the working he put on Andrea!”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t kill her,” Blakely protested. “I had no reason to.”
“What about Elaine Shepherd?”
“That’s my girl,” Silas chuckled.
Spenser Blakely’s eyes widened at the mention of Andrea’s co-worker friend. “What about her?”
“You don’t know?” Becca was smiling. “We have her in custody right now. Conspiracy to commit murder.”
“Conspiracy? Whose murder?”
“Andrea Alvarez. She went to Jacinto Garcia and asked him to kill her with a death curse. When he refused, she came to you. Isn’t that right?”
“S-she told you?”
“No.” Becca leaned back in her seat. She gave him a victorious look. “But it wasn’t hard to figure out when we learned she’d secretly come by your work in the early morning hours. You might be a killer, but the one thing no one would mistake you for is a lady’s man. You two weren’t having an affair, so the only other thing it could be was that she asked you to perform the death curse on Andrea yourself.” Shaking her head, she chuckled. “And you pretty much just confirmed my theory with your answer.”
Blakely sat up straight. “Look, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“You mean, she didn’t ask you to perform a working on your girlfriend?”
“I, uh…”
“What’s the matter, Blakely? I thought you wanted out of this town…even if you went to prison.”
“I do!” he shouted, his eyes once more darting around the room. It was as if his outburst might have attracted the attention of some unseen thing. “I’m sorry,” he said, more calmly. “I do, yes. But I also figured you wanted the truth and not just what you assume to be true.”
“Okay. Then, start being straight with me. Did Elaine Shepherd reach out to you about putting a death curse on Andrea Alvarez?”
He hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes. She did. Andrea had apparently told her about me. Told her we’d met during our worship meetings. When Omo Sango had refused to do the curse, she came to the only person she knew who might be able to do it.”
“Why would she come to you? I mean, you were dating Andrea. What would make her think you would do something like that?”
Blakely hung his head. “Because,” he said with a sigh, “we had broken up.”