The Devil Died at Midnight

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “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.”

  “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?”

  “I didn’t take responsibility for it.”

  “You confessed.”

  “To the murders, not th
e rape.”

  “You didn’t dispute the rape in court. You may as well have taken responsibility. You do understand that, right? By refusing to talk, you look guilty.”

  “If you reveal what Paula did, she could face jail time. Or do you even care?”

  “I’d be lying if I said my book doesn’t matter to me. I care about every book I write. You may be a murderer, but you were wrongly accused of a rape you didn’t commit. The public deserves to know. And they will.”

  “You’ll ruin her,” Elias said. “People will never look at her in the same way.”

  Alexandra leaned back in the chair, studied Elias’s face for a moment. “I don’t understand. Why would you defend Paula? What reason would you possibly have for protecting her right now?”

  “My fate was sealed with the murders. Coming out against Paula may add a dash of spice to the story, but it won’t change anything. Just ... think about it before you ruin her life for no reason.”

  Alexandra crossed one leg over the other, looked at Elias the same way she had during their last visit, when she thought she saw the humanity in him. “You surprise me every time I’m here, Elias.”

  “Why, because you think I’m a decent human being? I’m not.”

  She leaned forward. “See, I didn’t think so at first, but you are. Despite what you’ve done, I believe you’re a good person at heart.”

  He bowed his head and closed his eyes, making sure to appear humble. “Maybe now. Maybe prison has changed me.”

  “You know something? I like you. And I’ve never said that to anyone I’ve interviewed before.”

  “If you like me so much, leave what you learned about Paula out of the book.” He lifted his head, stared in her eyes. “Please, Alexandra. I’m begging you.”

  She leaned forward, smiled. “If I do, what could you possibly offer me in exchange?”

  “What do you want?”

  “For starters, I want the whole story between the two of you, all of it.” She stood. “For now, I’ll go. Leave you to think about it. Let me know what you decide.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Elias Pratt

  January 24, 1986

  The move Elias was about to make was a risky one. He was about to give Alexandra a sliver of truth, hoping she’d keep her word, even though he didn’t believe she would. Additional measures needed to be in place. A plan.

  His execution had been stayed again.

  He had time.

  He also had the perfect plan.

  Alexandra’s book wouldn’t be published until after he was dead. She’d said to do so any earlier would be like telling a story and leaving out the ending. Unsure of how long the process would take, she’d met with subjects for other projects in the interim.

  “Why leave the truth about Paula out of the book?” Alexandra asked. “Why is it so important to you?”

  “Paula was my girlfriend,” Elias replied.

  Alexandra’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? When? For how long?”

  “We started seeing each other about six months before I was arrested.”

  “Why hasn’t anyone mentioned this before? Who else knows?”

  “No one else knows except Paula, her parents, and now you.”

  “Why not? Why hide it?”

  “Paula’s father didn’t approve of our relationship. He thought I was too old for her. I guess the four years’ difference seems bigger when you’re young. He found out, demanded I stop seeing her.”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course not. You think I’d let some ignorant ass keep me from what I want?”

  “So you snuck around.”

  “For a while,” he said.

  “And then?”

  “He caught us one night in her bed.” Elias laughed, winked at Alexandra. “Guess we weren’t being as quiet as we thought we were. You know how it goes.”

  “What did her father do?”

  “The man was mad as hell. I thought he was going to drive a knife right through me. He tossed my clothes at my face, told me to get out, and said if I ever saw his daughter again, he’d have me arrested for sex with a minor.”

  “Did you end it then?”

  “Are you kidding? That girl was like a juicy slice of forbidden fruit. The more her father tried to keep me away, the more I wanted her.”

  Elias smiled as he watched Alexandra writhe in her seat, crossing one leg over the other, uncrossing them, and then crossing them back on the other side. It was awkward tension. Sexual tension. He lived life by his own rules, according to what suited him, and Alexandra, with her tight clothes and defiant nature, breathed it in like a window being cracked open in a stuffy room that hadn’t been open in ages.

  “Did Paula know about your criminal activity?”

  He shook his head. “She’s a sweet girl. I didn’t want to trouble her with such things. She wouldn’t have understood my need for ... well, a more exciting life.”

  “When did you stop seeing her?”

  “A couple months before I was arrested, her father found a note I’d left Paula in her room. He knew then we’d never stopped seeing each other, and he decided to try a different approach.”

  “Which was?”

  “He invited me over for dinner, told Paula he may have misjudged me, and wanted to give me another chance.”

  “You must have been thrilled.”

  “At first. The family dinners, the ‘welcoming me with open arms’ attitude, it worked for Paula. It just didn’t work for me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Once I was accepted by her parents, the relationship lost its shine. It wasn’t risky and forbidden anymore. I became bored, and Paula’s father got his daughter back, which I expect is what he’d hoped would happen all along. I broke it off, and she hated me for it.”

  “You’re saying she hated you so much she decided to tell the police you raped her?”

  He nodded. “I figured it was her way of getting back at me for breaking her heart. Not long after I was incarcerated, she wrote me a letter, apologizing. She offered to confess what she’d done, make things right.”

  “Why didn’t she?”

  “I told her not to. I didn’t need her to do that for me. It wouldn’t change anything.”

  Alexandra leaned in. “I appreciate you trusting me with this story, but we’re just getting started.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Present Day

  The next morning, my cell phone buzzed. The number was local. I leaned over, tried to grab the phone, but my fine motor skills hadn’t kicked in yet. The phone slid off the nightstand onto the floor. I bent over the bed, reached down, tried again. “Hello?”

  Porter Wells’s voice boomed through the phone. “Have you seen Chelsea? Is she with you?”

  “Of course not,” I replied. “It’s seven in the morning. Why would she be here?”

  “You’re not lying to me to protect her, right?”

  “I’m hanging up now,” I said.

  “Wait.”

  “Why? I’m obviously a liar. She’s been here all night. We had a slumber party.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just ... I can’t find her. She’s not here. She’s not picking up. I’m worried.”

  I wasn’t. I knew she had an officer assigned to watch her. Still, why did my stomach feel queasy? “The last time I saw her was yesterday at Alexandra’s funeral. Why did you think she was with me?”

  “I overheard her last night on the phone, talking to her fiancé. She said she was going to call you. She needed to talk to you about something.”

  “Did she say what she wanted to tell me?”

  “No.”

  Now who was lying?

  “We got into another argument last night,” he continued. “It was bad. Worse than the others.”

  “What was the fight over?”

  “She said she didn’t want to be part of my life anymore. I was angry. I left, went to a hotel. I returned to the house this morning. She was gone, and the house was d
estroyed.”

  “When you say destroyed—”

  “I mean the place has been torn apart. Drawers pulled out, dumped over, shelves emptied. Chelsea’s been pissed at me for weeks, but this ... this is ridiculous. To desecrate her mother’s house just because she’s angry, or grieving, or whatever the hell she’s going through right now is—”

  “How do you know it was Chelsea who trashed the house?” I asked.

  “Who else could have done it?”

  “Porter, I’m going to give Murphy a call. I’ll call you back.”

  I hung up the phone and dialed Murphy. He answered on the second ring.

  “The officer you assigned to Chelsea,” I started. “When did you hear from him last?”

  “I’m not sure,” Murphy said. “I’m headed into work now. Why? What’s happened?”

  I relayed my conversation with Porter.

  When I finished, he said, “Huh, hang on a second. I’ll get an answer for you.” I waited for him to return to the line. “You’re sure you haven’t seen Chelsea?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” I said. “Why?”

  “Open your door.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it, Miss Jax.”

  I walked to the door, opened it, and found Chelsea standing on the other side dressed in jeans and a puffy pink coat. Her fist was clenched like she was about to knock. In her hand she held a thin, black planner. Standing next to her was her fiancé and the officer assigned to keep an eye on her. The officer held a phone to his ear.

  I looked at Chelsea. “Your father just called me. He’s really worried about you.”

  “He doesn’t need to worry. I can take care of myself.” She thumbed to her left. “Plus, I have this guy.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  She paused. “We need to talk. Can I come in?”

  CHAPTER 33

  Chelsea’s fiancé held his hand out to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Joss. I’m Bradley. Chelsea has told me so much about you.”

  It seemed strange for a boy of his age to show this kind of respect, given the loose, relaxed nature of most millennials his age. But everything about Bradley was different, from his perfectly combed hair to his tight, white slacks and fitted, gray wool jacket. He oozed money and good breeding.