Chapter 21

Laurel tucked her gun at the back of her waist and drew on a jacket over her light sweater before walking through the office and down the stairway with the cancan girls seeming to dance next to her. She burst into the vestibule and then took a deep breath before stepping outside into the chilly, windy day.

Haylee stood next to one of the vehicles with Rachel Raprenzi holding out a microphone as a beefy camera guy recorded them.

"There she is," Haylee yelled, spittle flying from her mouth as she pointed at Laurel. "There she is. All of this is her fault. She's the killer. Don't you get it? Don't you get it?"

Laurel frowned. "Haylee, are you okay?"

The girl wore a torn sweatshirt and jeans with muddy tennis shoes. Her blond hair was partly up in a ponytail and partly falling wild around her face. Her eyes were wide and she hiccupped. "No, I'm not okay. You set up my fiancé for murder, and now he's out free and won't talk to me. I can't find him. I'm sure you've killed him."

Laurel cocked her head to the side. "Have you been drinking, Haylee?"

"I have to drink all the time." The young woman threw up her hands. "You've ruined my life."

Rachel pressed closer. "You said that you believe Agent Snow is a killer. Could you expand on that allegation?"

Laurel turned and faced the reporter. "Keep in mind slander laws, Ms. Raprenzi."

"This isn't slander," Haylee yelled, her face turning red. "I saw you."

"What did you see?" Rachel asked quickly.

Tears fell from Haylee's eyes, and she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I was there. I was out at the church. I saw her drive by. I did."

"What are you talking about?" Laurel asked, forgetting the camera for a moment. She'd deal with that later.

Haylee shook her head wildly. "Your hair is impossible to miss, that red. I saw you."

The cold started to seep through Laurel's clothing to her skin. "Haylee, why don't you come inside for an interview?"

"No," the girl yelled. "Don't you see? She'll just kill me, too."

This was becoming tedious.

Rachel stepped closer to Haylee as if trying to protect the woman, a small smile playing on her lips. "Now, Ms. Johnson, take a deep breath. We need to be careful about slander here. Without going into supposition, tell me what you saw and what you're talking about."

Haylee blinked. "Supposition?"

"Guessing," Rachel said instantly. "Without guessing."

"Oh, okay." Haylee's brow smoothed out. "Early Thursday morning of last week, I couldn't sleep. I've been just driving around the mountains and town trying to find Jason. He was an avid camper, and so I hoped that I would come upon one of his campsites."

"Go on," Rachel said encouragingly.

Haylee looked at Laurel and then sidled closer to the reporter. "I drove outside the city over by the church. Jason and I used to go there once in a while, and I feel a sense of comfort there. I saw Agent Snow drive by. It was the day Mrs. Bearing's body was found. It was still dark out."

Rachel looked at Laurel and then back at Haylee. "Are you positive?"

"I know her hair. I mean, look at her. It's red."

"It's not red," Laurel retorted. "My hair color is brown with an undertone of red."

"It's red," Haylee and Rachel said in unison.

Laurel looked at the cameraman. She probably should excuse herself from this situation, but she wanted more information. "You're saying you were close by when the second victim was left by the river near the church?"

Haylee faltered. "I didn't see the victim. I just saw you drive by and turn down the church driveway."

"What was I driving, allegedly?" Laurel asked.

Haylee swallowed. "A truck."

"What kind of truck?" Rachel asked.

Haylee shook her head. "It was an old battered one, like half the farmers around here own. People borrow them all the time, right?"

Rachel kept her face in noncommittal lines, but her eyes glowed. "Yes, that's true. Anybody can get a truck, and I believe Agent Snow's family owns a farm."

Haylee shrugged. "I don't know anything about that. All I know is I saw her driving down the church road when it was still dark, before the mayor's dead wife was found."

Rachel cocked her head. "Didn't Mrs. Bearing get into an altercation with Captain Huck Rivers a day or two before she died?"

"I have no comment on that," Laurel said.

Rachel stepped closer. "Aren't you and Captain Huck Rivers in a relationship? You wouldn't just go kill somebody who smacked him, would you, Laurel?"

"Of course not," Laurel said. "I would be very careful what you say right now, Ms. Raprenzi."

"Don't let her threaten you," Haylee whispered sadly. "She and her crazy sister probably kill people all the time. You know Abigail Caine experimented on Jason? He never, ever would've even thought of killing anybody if she hadn't messed with his head."

Rachel pushed the microphone closer to Haylee. "Now, Ms. Johnson, we do need to be careful because of slander. Do you have any proof of this?"

Tears welled in Haylee's eyes again. "Don't you see? They destroyed all the proof, the FBI and Abigail Caine, but I can show you his records of when he underwent treatment by Dr. Caine, how he felt before, and then how he felt after. Worse yet, she shot stuff into his veins that made him feel powerful. Jason believed he could protect himself from evil women."

Laurel pivoted toward her. "Records? Did you say that Jason Abbott kept records?"

Haylee faltered. "I'm not giving his diaries to you."

Laurel would require a subpoena to get them. His diaries might lead her to where Abbott hid right now, and they should provide important evidence for his trial. "Haylee, you've been questioned many times, but you haven't mentioned these diaries once. You know you're hindering an investigation and possibly obstructing justice."

"See," Haylee sniffed. "All she does is threaten. Believe me, you do not want to be on her bad side." She sneered, her eyes narrowing. "People who get there end up dead."

Laurel straightened. "You need to come in for a formal interview right now." She reached for the woman's arm.

"No!" Haylee yanked free and pushed Laurel.

The cameraman angled his camera to the side, trained on them.

Laurel cleared her throat. "Ms. Johnson, you have just made yourself a material witness in two separate ongoing FBI cases, both with rapidly clicking timelines. In addition, you just committed battery against an FBI agent. So either come in voluntarily right now for an interview, or I'll have no choice but to take you into custody."

Haylee swung around wildly and then stopped, straightening her shoulders. "Fine." She looked at the camera. "Make sure I come out of this, okay? She definitely wants me dead."

The smile Rachel Raprenzi flashed showed too much teeth. "We'll wait right here, Haylee. We promise."

* * *

Haylee slouched in the chair across from Laurel's desk, looking like a surly teenager.

Laurel crossed her legs, wishing Agent Norrs and Tim Kohnex had vacated the conference room. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Haylee huffed and looked over to the side wall.

Laurel rarely became impatient because it was a waste of energy and brain power. At the moment, however, she had to fight the inclination. "Haylee, you are in your twenties. Stop acting like a petulant child."

"Petulant," Haylee snapped out. "You're fucking evil."

"Let's move past the name calling and the churlishness, shall we? Tell me about the diaries."

"No."

How could the young woman still want to protect Jason Abbott? "Where are they?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Haylee," Laurel said. "You just admitted on camera that you are in possession of these diaries, and that you might be able to identify a witness to the killing near the church. On camera," she stressed. "So if you don't work with me, I can have you arrested and charged with hindering an investigation and obstruction of justice."

"Well . . . then—" Haylee started.

Laurel held up a finger. "In addition, if you lie to me, it's a crime because I'm a federal agent."

"Ha," Haylee said. "That's not true. I know I have a right not to incriminate myself."

Sometimes Laurel truly despaired about the current educational system. "Yes, but I'm not asking you about yourself. According to 18 US Code 1001, it is a crime to knowingly and willingly make any materially false statement to any branch of the government of the United States. This means you can't lie to a federal agent."

"I can lie to the cops anytime I want."

Oh, spare her. Laurel took a deep breath. "That's the local police, and actually, you should be careful there, too. I'm talking about the federal government. Lying to me can result in fines and imprisonment. Do you want to go to jail?"

"No," Haylee said.

They had reached a consensus of direction. "Good. Where are the diaries?"

"They're at my place."

So at least they remained safe for now. "I want you to turn them over."

"Get a warrant."

Laurel had already asked Sherry to draw up a request for a warrant. "Why are you trying to protect Jason Abbott? He is a cold-blooded murderer."

"Because of your sister."

All right. They were not going to get anywhere with this line of questioning. "Tell me about the woman you saw in the truck."

"It was you. I saw your hair. I saw you drive. It was you. You were the woman in the truck."

Laurel considered questions that would elicit truthful answers and could settle on only one. "Is it possible the woman you saw was Abigail Caine?"

Haylee's jaw dropped open. "Well, um, I guess."

How could she not have already thought of that? "Do you have any idea why Dr. Caine would want to murder Mrs. Bearing?"

Haylee gulped. "I don't know. I mean, I heard Mrs. Bearing was doing the nasty with Pastor John, and didn't Dr. Caine used to date him? Could that be a reason?"

Not for most people, but who knew with Abigail. "Are you currently under the influence of any alcohol or drugs?" Laurel asked abruptly.

Haylee put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Are you calling me stupid?"

Laurel had refrained from actually saying the words. "No, I'm just asking if anything is impairing your judgment."

"No," Haylee snapped.

Laurel harbored reservations about that assertion. "Tell me about the truck."

"I saw an old and battered farm truck. I don't know. Maybe like a yellowish cream. One of the millions we see around here."

"It was still dark outside. How did you see the driver's hair?"

Haylee cocked her head as if trying to remember. "From the dash lights and, plus, my headlights. I just figured you went to murder people. Are you a killer?"

"No," Laurel said.

Haylee snorted. "Maybe not, but that evil sister of yours definitely is."