A View to a Kill

Home > Other > A View to a Kill > Page 31
A View to a Kill Page 31

by Cheryl Bradshaw


  He looked at Sandra. “Who’s your friend?”

  Sandra whipped around, glared at Alexandra. “You need to go. I don’t have time for this.”

  “I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Sandra glanced at a clock on the wall, tensed. “You have to go, Ben. Now.”

  “Already?” he asked. “Feels like I just got here, baby. Can I see you again?”

  “Maybe. I’ll call you.”

  “What about tomorrow? I can come over after work. Five thirty be okay?”

  “I said I’d call you.”

  The man hung his head, returned to the bedroom. Alexandra assumed, and hoped, it was to get his clothes and be on his way. Seconds later, the doorbell rang.

  A different man, this time a bit closer to Sandra in age, entered the house. “It’s Roger,” he hollered into the house. “The door’s open. I’m coming in.”

  Sandra flicked the cigarette into an ashtray and marched over to him. “You’re early, Roger. Fifteen minutes early. We talked about this. I give you a time. You stick to it, or there won’t be a next time. Understand?”

  Roger produced a handful of red roses, offered them to Sandra. She smacked them away. “No, no, no. Roger. I told you. It isn’t like that. Now leave.”

  “But what about—”

  “Come back in fifteen minutes.”

  Sandra slammed the door, yelled, “Ben, I told you to get out!”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he yelled back.

  He shuffled down the hall, leaned toward Sandra on his way out like he wanted to give her a kiss. She jerked her face in the opposite direction, and his kiss landed on her hair.

  Once he’d left, Alexandra said, “What the hell is going on here? Why are men coming in and out of your house today?”

  Sandra shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “Does it look like your business? Because it isn’t.”

  “I have a few questions about Elias,” Alexandra said. “Answer them and I’ll leave you to get back to whatever the ‘nothing’ is you have going here.”

  “I’m not interested in talking about Elias. It’s been almost three years. I don’t think about it anymore. Are we done?”

  “Are you aware Elias was just granted another stay of execution?”

  “Do you think I care? Do I look like I care? I don’t keep up on any of it anymore. Not since the trial ended.”

  “Your parents are dead because of him. That doesn’t matter to you?”

  “He got what he deserved. I’ve moved on. Everyone else should too.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Still, must have been hard after what he did to you.”

  Sandra turned, coughed. “What he did ... it doesn’t ... I’m not ... I’m fine.”

  “I talked to your neighbor.”

  “So?”

  “The one who called the police the night Elias broke in. She saw you come home that night. Knew the exact time too.”

  “Your point?”

  “When she heard the gunshot, the one after you arrived home, the one that hit you, it was at least ten minutes before police arrived. A lot of time, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “You do though, don’t you, Sandra? You know exactly what I mean. He could have left if he wanted to. He didn’t. He stayed. And the only reason I can think of is that he stayed for you.”

  Sandra shrugged. “So.”

  “The first officer on the scene said that when he walked into the house Elias was cradling you, saying, ‘It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right now. I’m not going to leave you.’ Interesting choice of words, don’t you think?”

  “The guy’s a freaking weirdo. Why does it matter what he said?”

  “When Paula Page was on the stand during Elias’s trial, she kept looking at you. Do you have any idea why?”

  “I don’t know her. Who knows?” Sandra pointed to the door. “You need to leave.”

  Alexandra walked to the door, turning back before she stepped outside. “There’s a reason Elias saved you. I think you know why, and I won’t stop digging until I figure it all out.”

  Sandra curved her lips into a wry grin and leaned forward. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Alexandra Weston

  March 3, 1985

  5:30 p.m.

  If Alexandra couldn’t get Sandra Hamilton to talk, she knew the perfect alternative: Paula Page. Aside from the fact both women went to the same school and were the same age during Elias’s crime spree, Paula was Sandra’s opposite in every way. Reticent. Shy. The kind of girl no one noticed in school because, most of the time, no one knew she was there. She was a lurker, always in the shadows, watching from the sidelines, not one to engage.

  Less than a year after she graduated, Paula married James Keller, a pastor seven years her senior whom she’d only dated for three months. Staring at the two of them now, sitting a foot apart from each another on the couch, Alexandra couldn’t imagine a more boring, mundane couple.

  While James appeared confident in his cheap church suit and paisley tie, a dirty-blond, curly-haired Paula, in a simple, understated dress, acted anxious and uncomfortable. Hands pressed together between her legs, her breathing was abnormal, heavy, like she knew what was coming.

  “You say you’re writing a book about Elias Pratt?” James asked.

  “I am,” Alexandra responded. “And I was hoping to speak with Paula alone.”

  “You think I’m going to leave you alone with my wife?”

  “I was hoping for a few minutes with her on my own, yes.”

  He laughed. “We’re a team. What we do, we do together. The only way I’ll allow you to talk to her at all is if I’m present. I also want to look over and approve anything you want to put in the book you’re writing, pertaining to my wife. Deal?”

  Alexandra smiled the way she always did in these situations. A smile she’d perfected. A smile that said Trust me, everything’s going to be okay. Her artificial smile was accompanied by the perfect tone of voice. Low. Pleasant. Reassuring. “Of course, Mr. Keller. I completely understand. How lucky Paula is to have a caring husband like you! Truly. She’s a lucky woman.”

  Before that moment, James’s back had been arched, his head held forward and high, like an eagle protecting his nest. Now he leaned back, crossed one leg over the other. Smiled. “Thank you. You’re very observant. I can see how you would be in your line of work.”

  No, thank YOU, Alexandra thought.

  “The women who read my book will be inspired by your story, Paula.”

  Her cheeks turned bright pink in color. “You really think so?”

  “I do.” Alexandra switched gears. “I’d like to go over the statement you gave to the police, Paula, and what you said on the stand during Elias’s trial.”

  “Why? I said everything I needed to say back then. You can take my statement and use that in your book, right?”

  “I could. It’s not the same thing though. Talking to you in person allows me to get a sense of what you endured on a personal level so I can accurately express it to my readers. I want everyone to see Elias as the sinner he is, and you as the innocent victim.”

  James’s profuse nod of agreement was the approval Paula needed to respond.

  “I don’t remember much about it anymore,” she said. “I’ve blocked it out. I try not to think about that night.”

  What an interesting statement, and oddly similar to the one Sandra had given.

  “I’m sure it’s hard to talk about, even now. I’ll be brief, okay?”

  “It’s just, you’re asking me to live through it all again. I don’t think I want to—”

  James grabbed Paula’s hand. “Be brave, honey. Think about what she said. Think about the lives you’ll touch with your story, the women out there suffering through the same thing you suffered through. Look at where you
are now. You’ll give them hope.”

  She nodded like the lifeless, subservient housewife Alexandra saw her to be.

  James looked at Alexandra. “Ask your questions.”

  “I want to talk about the timeline of the night Elias broke into your parents’ house. Can you take me through it?”

  “All of it?” Paula asked.

  Alexandra nodded. “Just once. Once is all I need, and then I have just a few more questions, and we’ll be done. Sound good?”

  “I was asleep in bed,” Paula said. “I, umm, heard a noise downstairs. At first I thought it was my parents. I looked at my watch. It was almost two in the morning, and they never stayed up later than ten.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I thought if it wasn’t my parents, it might be Amanda, and maybe the noise was coming from outside, not inside.”

  “Who’s Amanda?”

  “My next-door neighbor at the time. Sometimes she snuck out late at night to see the guy she was dating. If the door to her house was locked when she got back home, she’d climb the tree in between our two houses and go through her bedroom window. I thought maybe she was outside talking to her boyfriend, but when I looked outside, no one was there.”

  “You told police you were assaulted in your room.”

  Paula nodded, her arms and hands trembling. “I was looking out the window and Elias grabbed me from behind.”

  “How can you be sure it was Elias who grabbed you?”

  “When he was arrested, the news showed photos of the mask. It was the same one I saw the night he was in our house.”

  “Did Elias say anything to you when he grabbed you?”

  “He put his hand over my mouth, a knife to my neck, and told me not to say a word.”

  “Which hand was the knife in?”

  She tilted her head, thinking. “The left.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “He wasn’t left-handed though, he was right-handed. And you said the knife was in his right hand when you were questioned as well.” Alexandra pulled a piece of paper from a folder in her briefcase. “I know it’s been a while. Would you like to look over what you originally told police?”

  “I know what I said.”

  Clearly, she didn’t. Alexandra also found it curious Paula said Elias had a knife when he’d only been known to carry a gun.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Alexandra said. “Go on. What happened next?”

  Elias pushed me down on the bed, got on top of me. And then he ... then he ...”

  “I’m sure you don’t need her to recall what transpired next,” James said. “We all know what happened.”

  “Paula,” Alexandra said. “I spoke to Sandra today, right before I came here. She had some interesting things to say. Do you know her?”

  Paula’s reddened face paled, the color draining from her skin like fabric baked by the sun for too long. “I don’t know Sandra. Not personally.”

  “She’s been visiting Elias in prison. Did you know that?”

  It was a lie of course. One Alexandra hoped she’d spun in her favor. From the unpleasant expression on Paula’s face, it was working. Now for the big finish.

  “I was also inside the courtroom the day you took the stand against Elias,” Alexandra said. “You kept looking over at Sandra while you gave your testimony. Can you tell me why?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember looking at her at all.”

  “But you did. Several times.”

  Before James had the chance to step in, Alexandra stood. “I can see talking about Elias is still too hard for you, Paula, and I have an appointment with Detective Murphy, so I need to go.”

  This was also a lie, of course, to gauge Paula’s reaction. And it worked.

  Paula’s eyes widened. “Why are you seeing him? To interview him for your book?”

  “A few things have come to light since I started my book,” Alexandra said. “Things I feel Detective Murphy deserves to know. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to tell me before I go?”

  “What are you suggesting?” James asked. “You’re acting like my wife has something to hide. She doesn’t. Whatever Elias Pratt is filling Sandra Hamilton’s head with, I’m sure it’s nothing but a pile of lies.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Still, it’s my duty to share things with the police from time to time, especially things relevant to a case like this one.”

  James turned to Paula. “There isn’t anything Elias could say that has anything to do with you. Right, honey?”

  Paula shielded her face with her hands, tears spilling out from the corners.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “You have nothing to hide. Nothing to be ashamed of. Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know. I ...”

  He clasped his hands over hers. “Paula, you don’t have to talk about this anymore, or ever again as far as I’m concerned. You’re free of all this now. It’s in the past.”

  “It’s not,” Paula sobbed.

  “Of course it is.”

  “No, I mean, it really isn’t, James.”

  “I don’t understand. Why not?”

  “Because I know what Elias told her, and it’s true. Elias never raped me, and—”

  Alexandra pointed a finger. “I knew it! I knew you were hiding something.”

  “Wait,” Paula said. “Are you saying you didn’t already know about what I just said?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But you said you were going to see Detective Murphy. You said Sandra and Elias had spoken.”

  Alexandra raised both hands in the air. “Did I? It’s called lying, honey. And now you understand why I did it. You and Sandra must have had an agreement of some kind, although I still don’t know how she roped you in or why she chose you.”

  Eyes wide, Paula turned toward her husband. “James, I’m sorry. It was a mistake, an accident. I’m a different person now.”

  James raised a hand, and Paula went silent. “Don’t say another word, Paula. And Mrs. Weston, it’s time for you to leave.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Elias Pratt

  January 13, 1986

  Elias watched as Alexandra pranced into the room, like she was having the best day of her life. She plopped onto the seat across from him, causing the button holding together her rayon suit jacket to spread open, giving Elias a visual of her blush-colored lingerie underneath and, along with it, a sizeable helping of cleavage. Alexandra glanced down, realizing the mishap, and grinned, this time seeming to welcome the attention and doing nothing to stop it.

  “I have news,” she said. “And it’s taken me three weeks to get authorization to see you again, or I would have told you sooner.”

  “What kind of news?” Elias asked.

  “The best kind. After I spoke to you last, I went to see Sandra Hamilton.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to question her about the night you killed her parents.”

  He grimaced, irritated by her careless attitude. “I don’t understand why you wanted to talk to Sandra. I’m giving you the story you want, and I’m giving you everything you need. Leave her out of it.”

  Alexandra smiled. “If you were giving me everything I need, I wouldn’t have talked to her. You’re not though, Elias, and you haven’t been. A piece of your story involves Sandra. A very big piece, considering you are where you are right now because of her. Besides, it’s too late now.”

  Listening to Alexandra flaunt her power and his helplessness sickened him, rustling the burning fire from within. She could do whatever she liked, and she wanted him to know it. There was nothing he could do to stop her. Even if he refused to speak, the book would go on with or without him. If only there was something he could do to even the score, to make her lose the upper hand she had over him.

  If only.

  “How is Sandra?” he asked.

  “Loose.”

&
nbsp; “Meaning?”

  “There were half-naked guys coming in and out of her place like she was running a one-woman brothel, which I assume is exactly what she has going on.”

  He shook his head.

  No.

  It couldn’t be true.

  He didn’t believe it.

  Alexandra was lying.

  She had to be.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said. “Sandra’s not that kind of girl. You must be mistaken.”

  “I was there. I know what I saw.”

  “What were their names?”

  “Whose names?”

  “The names of the men at her house,” he said.

  She told him.

  “Describe them to me,” he said. “What did they look like?”

  “Why does it matter so much to you, Elias?”

  “Because I asked.”

  She complied, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t know either of the men. “What did you say to Sandra?”

  “I told her who I was and what I wanted. She wasn’t interested in talking. She asked me to leave, and I did.”

  “That’s it?” he said. “That’s your news?”

  She shook her head. “After I left Sandra’s house, I went to see Paula Page. You’ll never guess what she told me.”

  Except he could guess. The only question now was what all she’d divulged.

  Alexandra cocked her head to the side. “Paula told me she wasn’t raped the night you broke into her parents’ house. Why would she perjure herself in court?”

  He shrugged. Alexandra continued.

  “She aligned herself with Sandra Hamilton, and although it doesn’t make sense to me why Paula allowed herself to be manipulated, or why Sandra wanted her to say she was raped in the first place, Paula still did Sandra’s bidding.”

  “You don’t know if anything you’re saying is true. You’re just guessing.”

  “Paula’s a religious woman now. A preacher’s wife.” Alexandra laughed. “Maybe the fear of God got into her after what she did, and so she decided marrying a servant of God might make up for it.”

  Elias knew what had gotten into Paula. The woman sitting right in front of him.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Alexandra said, “but she should have thought of the consequences before she lied. And while we’re on the subject, why did she do it? Why lie in the first place? And why would you take responsibility for it?”

 

‹ Prev