Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“That was quite the camouflage you wore,” I said, remembering his slumped-over posture and thicker body.
He chuckled, sounding delighted with himself. “Yeah. No shit.”
Nonna gasped. He didn’t apologize for the crude language, but why would he, considering he had a gun pointed at us?
“It was pretty easy. When I worked on the cruise ship, I often helped with some of the shows and learned makeup and how to camouflage. But boy, wearing three sweaters at a time sure got hot in that interrogation room,” he chuckled.
“What about the height?” I said. “You’re under six feet tall.”
“It’s the boots,” he said. “You thought they were part of the outfit. They make me a hell of a lot taller.”
I shook my head. “Why did you go through with all this?”
“I needed those pictures,” he said. “If I had only robbed the antique store, everyone would look more closely at what was taken from there. Nobody thought twice about certain objects since I robbed so many places.”
I thought about the picture of him with Richard Basanelli, and it hit me. “It’s the knife, isn’t it? The knife was in your hand.”
“Yeah. That was Nick Basanelli’s knife. His dad used it often, and I had it in my hand when we caught those fish and were photographed. I had to get that picture.”
Lisa had sent me the photo.
As if reading my thoughts, he said, “Don’t worry. My next stop will be to see Lisa Robinson. She won’t survive the next sundown.” Which meant neither would we.
“What about the getup?” Nonna asked, looking back at him. “The whole silly Cupid thing?”
He shrugged. “It kept you from recognizing me, and it was kind of fun. Plus, I didn’t need all the crap. I just needed to keep enough to retain the pictures.”
I slowed down on the outskirts of Timber City, wishing I could head straight into town. “Your brother was in on this the whole time?”
“Of course. He’s my brother. We figured we’d be out of town by now, but I started to worry about that picture I remembered. We saw it when we scouted the area.”
“You could have just taken it off the wall instead of doing all this,” I protested.
He shook his head. “What fun would that have been? This is the best time we’ve had our whole lives.”
The man really was crazy. Cousin Wanda had been right. This wasn’t just about robbing and giving it away. He was completely into his role.
“You killed Richard and Imogen?” I asked.
“I couldn’t believe that bitch wanted to leave me.” He shook his head. “Have you seen my body? I was even more ripped back then, and I was a good husband to her. A very good one. I followed them to the Pig Tavern that night, and nobody knew I was there waiting in the parking lot.”
I shook my head. “Why did you bury them in the Marsh Mansion?”
He chuckled, the sound much more like him now that the voice distorter had been removed from his mouth. “Imogen headed out to our cabin to get the rest of her stuff. The two of them did. Can you believe that? And then they decided to stay the night there, thinking I was in Silverville.” He shook his head. “They didn’t know what was coming.”
“You stabbed them both to death?”
“Yes,” he chuckled. “Basanelli had his kid’s knife on him. Tried to defend himself. I took it, and well, they regretted it. It was the middle of summer and about four a.m. when I finished. I needed to put them somewhere. Dawn was coming, and I knew about that basement room in the Marsh Mansion. We all did. We used to party there. So I dumped both their bodies and then caused the cave-in so nobody would find them.”
This was unthinkable. “A couple of weeks ago, you heard the rumors about the two bodies being found before any of us knew who they were?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Rumors went far and wide about those bodies, and I did know who they were, which is why we had to get on this. We headed into town and just happened to see that picture at the antique store.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I went to check out Lisa Robinson to see what she knew about the bodies and spotted the picture. But it was one of those days when she was busy with a tour bus from Spokane, so I couldn’t just take it. Plus, I didn’t know how much she knew about the photos.”
He’d wanted to make a big production of the situation. “So, you came up with this elaborate stupid-Cupid plan?”
“I needed the money, too,” he said. “Things haven’t been great, and there was a chance we’d have to make a run for it. If you ask me, I’m a mastermind.”