by Nic Joseph
Then there was the fact that everyone at the party had been wasted. Dr. Ortiz seemed to believe that the alcohol wouldn’t have affected the ability to strike Beverly, but it would have severely limited the killer’s ability to clean up after him- or herself. There wasn’t a trace of blood in any of the units, which meant that the killer had to have been very skilled or left the building immediately after the murder was committed.
Then, there was this whole thing with Ryan Hooks. The likelihood of him actually being the person responsible seemed slim, but she couldn’t ignore it, not after seeing him so clearly on the video. She’d called him but hadn’t yet heard back.
And there was Chris, the artist.
Or better yet, Paula.
None of it was adding up.
As she stood in the stairwell, her phone rang, and Claire pulled it out of her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number and frowned as she answered and put the phone up to her ear.
“Detective Puhl.”
There was a moment of silence, and then a man spoke.
“Hi, uh, Detective Puhl, this is Reg Bolton from 218 West Oak Street. Um, down the block from where Emma Bentley lives.”
Puhl’s frown deepened, but she gripped the phone tighter and began to slowly walk down the stairs. “How can I help you, Mr. Bolton?”
“Well, I’m at my apartment now, and Emma is here. She asked me to call you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “She’s in my bedroom right now, and she told me to step out and ask you to send someone to my apartment right away. She said to tell you it’s about Chris.”
Claire blinked and then began to jog down the stairs more quickly. “I’m on my way.”
• • •
She raced out of the apartment and ran down the block, her gaze scanning the apartment buildings as she walked by. She saw that 218 W. Oak was on the other side of a small dog park. When she got there, she looked for Bolton’s name and pressed the buzzer. It sounded almost immediately, and Claire ran into the building.
As she walked out of the elevator on the second floor, Claire scanned the closed doors. She’d only taken a couple of steps when one flew open, and there was an older man with bright-white hair standing there.
“I think…they’re in there,” he said, stepping back to let Claire enter. His entire body was shaking, and he held a small puppy in his arms. His expression was a mixture of fear and confusion. “I don’t know why, but they shut the door…”
With her hand on her weapon, Claire moved past him and walked toward the closed bedroom door. She swung it open and frowned as she surveyed the scene.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, looking at the two women standing in front of her and dropping her hand from her holster.
It was Emma Bentley and Paula Wileson.
They’d obviously been in a fight of some kind. But they’d stopped and were standing at least two feet apart from each other, staring at something between their feet.
A laptop.
Shattered in half, keys scattered everywhere on the floor.
Claire heard Bolton gasp behind her, and he rushed forward.
“My computer!” he said.
The two women standing over it looked up at Claire, and then they began speaking at once.
“She smashed it!” Emma yelled, moving quickly toward the door. “She was hiding in the closet with it when we came in, and I asked Mr. Bolton to leave the room because I knew she was crazy. But not this crazy.”
“What are you talking about?” Paula said, taking a step forward, anger covering her face.
Claire moved forward and stood between them, glaring at them both.
Paula kept speaking. “She smashed it! I was trying to save the video on it.”
“What are you talking about?” Emma asked. “She was trying to delete it because she said there were videos from other nights that might incriminate him. She’s been following me around because she thought that would help her get closer to him—when I don’t even know him!”
“She broke into my apartment,” Bolton said from the doorway, the shaking man from a moment ago gone and anger in his voice. “And she broke my computer!”
“I didn’t break it!” Paula yelled.
“Enough!” Claire said.
“Mrs. Wileson, I’m going to have to charge you with trespassing.”
“That’s the least of it!” Bolton said.
Claire watched as the woman looked back and forth between her and Emma, protests on her lips. Finally, she nodded and began walking slowly toward the door.
“Everyone, please leave the room. I’ll get someone here to get the laptop.”
“You have to fix it,” Paula said, looking up at Claire, and behind her crazed, frantic expression, there was something else there that Claire couldn’t ignore.
Desperation.
“Yes, please,” Emma said as they all walked out into the kitchen. “You have to find someone who can fix it. She’s trying to delete evidence that proves she’s the one who killed Bev.”
Chapter 32
Paula
Four days after
Detective Puhl let us go and told both of us to come to the station in the morning.
“Be there at eight o’clock on the dot.”
She said it sternly, her gaze trained on me, and there was almost a challenge there.
I dare you not to show up.
“I’ll be there,” I muttered.
I walked into the house and stopped abruptly when I saw Keith sitting on the couch. He looked up sharply as I stepped inside. He was holding his phone in his hands, and his face was covered in a mix of concern and anger.
“Where the hell have you been?” he asked with more anger than anything. “I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
I blinked rapidly, knowing I should answer his question, but the only thing that came to mind was another question. “What are you doing back?”
He stared at me for a moment with his mouth open, and then he shook his head and leaned back against the couch.
“What am I doing back?” he asked incredulously. “One of the coaches who drove separately came back early to bring me home because there was a break-in at my house and my wife was attacked! You’d know that if you’d picked up your phone. I was seconds away from calling the police! And all you have to say is ‘What are you doing back’?”
“I…” I started, reviewing my list of excuses, but then I stopped and just stood there.
I’d been lying so much, so easily. I’d lied to Keith, to the cops, to Emma, to Vanessa. Whether by omission or outright, it had become second nature. And I needed it to stop.
No more lies.
“Paula?” I heard Keith say, and I blinked. “Are you okay?”
I was trying so hard to think of the right thing to say, and it hit me that I just needed to get started, to tell him something that would prevent me from lying again, to force myself to tell him the truth.
“I have to go to the police station tomorrow to give a statement,” I blurted out. “I did something really, really bad.”
He blinked but didn’t say anything for a few moments. I finally walked over to the couch and sat down beside him.
And then, I began to talk.
We sat there for two hours. There were parts where the words seemed so absurd, I almost didn’t believe they were true. I tiptoed around the word blackmail for as long as I could, but I finally said it, and once the details began to flow, I couldn’t stop talking. I wanted him to understand why I’d done what I’d done.
I’d done it for him.
For us.
“You don’t have to fix me,” he said, and there was anger there that I knew I deserved. “I know it’s been hard on you too, Paula, but this is
my reality. Our reality.”
I tried to cut in, but he kept talking.
“And a surgery is not going to ‘fix’ things. It never was going to. I’ve changed and you’ve changed, and I need you to understand that we can never go back.”
I started to speak again, but he held up a hand.
“We can go forward, though.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, and I nodded.
“I know that,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
I started talking again. I got through the rest of my story uninterrupted, and he watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. He only flinched when I told him that it was Hooks who’d broken into the apartment, presumably to take the money back.
He stared at me, his entire body rigid, the idea that his new client and idol could’ve been responsible for the break-in seeming to jolt him out of the daze he’d been in for the last few hours.
“Are you okay?” I asked this time, and he shook his head.
“Hooks?” he said, looking around the room. He continued shaking his head and then lowered his gaze to his hands, which were nervously tapping on both thighs.
“Keith?”
He shook his head faster and then finally stopped and looked up at me. “Stop talking,” he said. “My turn.”
Chapter 33
Claire
Five days after
PART 1 OF RECORDED INTERVIEW:
EMMA BENTLEY
Interview duration: 24 minutes
Location: 18th District Police Department, City of Chicago
Interview conducted by:
Detective Claire Puhl, Detective Greg Kuchi
PUHL: This interview is being recorded. I’m Detective Claire Puhl. Also in the room with me is Detective Greg Kuchi. This interview is being conducted in relation to the investigation of the death of Mrs. Beverly Brighton, 115 West Oak Street in Chicago, Illinois, which took place on Saturday, August 8. Today is August 13. Can you please state your name?
BENTLEY: Um, Emma Bentley.
PUHL: And where do you live?
BENTLEY: 115 West Oak Street.
PUHL: You own the building, correct?
BENTLEY: Yes.
PUHL: Now, Ms. Bentley, I know we’ve already talked about this, but can you tell us how well you knew the victim, Beverly Brighton? She was one of your tenants, yes?
BENTLEY: Yes, she was. She lived upstairs with her husband, Andrew. I knew Bev very well. She’s a close friend of mine. I mean, she was… (inaudible)
PUHL: Okay. Do you know this woman? Please let the record indicate that I am showing Ms. Bentley a picture of Mrs. Paula Christine Wileson.
BENTLEY: Yes. I only know her as Chris, though. We met about a week ago.
PUHL: Where did you meet?
BENTLEY: At a dog park near my apartment. She came there because she was looking for someplace to take her dog. I should have known something was wrong with her that day.
PUHL: What do you mean?
BENTLEY: She just seemed a little bit off, you know? Like she was there for a purpose and was trying to hide it. She didn’t have her dog with her that day, which seemed a little weird. And she kept looking at me the whole time like she knew me.
PUHL: Did you ask her why she was looking at you that way?
BENTLEY: No, of course not.
PUHL: Did you interact with her?
BENTLEY: Just a little. She was talking to one of my neighbors about the park. Then she started talking about Ryan Hooks, and then she was gone.
PUHL: What did she say about Hooks?
BENTLEY: That she’d just gotten tickets to go to his concert the next day.
PUHL: When did you see her again?
BENTLEY: Um, I guess it would’ve been in the park again, two days later. I go out there almost every day, and she showed up. With her dog this time.
PUHL: Did you tell her that you would be there?
BENTLEY: No, I didn’t, but I later found out that my sister did.
PUHL: When you arrived at the park the second time, did she approach you, or did you approach her?
BENTLEY: She came up to me. I was just sitting there, and she walked over and asked if I remembered her. She seemed to remember a lot about me, but I didn’t really think too much about it. She told me that she was an artist and that she was looking for work. Said she was going through a really rough time because of medical bills for her husband, and she asked if I had any friends who might be looking for some artwork. She kept making comments about how she needed more clients “like me” and in my “world”—I wasn’t really sure what that meant. Anyway, I’m actually looking for an artist to do some work for my company’s fashion show, and after she showed me a few samples, I decided to give her a chance.
PUHL: Why? I mean, if she seemed a bit “off” to you, as you said earlier.
BENTLEY: I don’t know. Believe me, I’m regretting it. My sister says I’m too trusting, and I think maybe I should start listening.
PUHL: Greg, we should… (inaudible) Okay, Ms. Bentley, so you invite Paula, or Chris as you know her, to your home. How did this happen, exactly? Did you give her your address?
BENTLEY: Well, yeah, and we were sitting just a few buildings down, so I was able to point it out. Weird thing is, I gave her my phone number and asked her to text me hers, but like I told you before, she never did. I thought it was just an oversight. I was a little surprised when she actually showed up for the dinner, but I’m not one to make a scene.
PUHL: What happened when she arrived?
BENTLEY: Everything was okay at first. You can ask anyone there. I mean, she was at dinner with a bunch of people she didn’t know, so she was a little quiet. I thought it was just that. But then she started to drink. A lot. We all were: me, Meggie, Bev, Andrew, Patrick, and Joshua, and we were all having a good time, but Chris—she was going down fast. At some point, I remember wanting to ask her to leave, but you know, I didn’t want to make her feel bad.
Then she pulled me aside and started asking me all these questions about Beverly. If I knew if she was seeing anyone else, had I seen anyone around here that looked like Ryan Hooks. Thing is, I knew Bev was seeing him. I’d seen him around the building whenever he was in town. Bev all but told me that it was more than just a professional relationship without ever using the words.
But I wasn’t going to tell Chris that, so I just kind of ignored her. Then she sat down on the couch and started dozing off. I went out to the deck where everyone was smoking to try to get a few people to help me get her outside and down the block, but when we came back, she was gone.
PUHL: But you don’t think she was gone, was she?
(Silence)
PUHL: Ms. Bentley?
BENTLEY: No. After talking to some of my neighbors over the last couple of days, I realize that nobody actually saw her leave. And that she may have been in my apartment still when I went to sleep. After Patrick and Meggie left, I knocked out. I don’t know. I was really out of it. I guess in a way (inaudible) it was my fault.
PUHL: How so?
BENTLEY: Because I let a stranger into my home, and then I was so drunk, I didn’t recognize that she was still there when I went to bed. That’s what the video showed. That’s what she’s trying to erase. It showed that she left my apartment much later than she originally said. After Bev was killed, not before.
(Tape stopped)
(Tape resumed)
PUHL: One more question. In your honest opinion, what do you think happened that night, Ms. Bentley?
BENTLEY: Chris, or Paula, or whatever her name is, left my apartment that night, was wasted, got into some kind of altercation with Bev, and killed her. Thing is, it’s not just what I think. She admitted it to me at Reg Bolton’s house.
• • •
PART 2 OF RECORDED
INTERVIEW: PAULA CHRISTINE WILESON
Interview duration: 39 minutes
Location: 18th District Police Department, City of Chicago
Interview conducted by:
Detective Claire Puhl, Detective Greg Kuchi
PUHL: This interview is being recorded. I’m Detective Claire Puhl. Also in the room with me is Detective Greg Kuchi. This interview is being conducted in relation to the investigation of the death of Mrs. Beverly Brighton, 115 West Oak Street in Chicago, Illinois, which took place on Saturday, August 8. Today is August 13.
Can you please state your name?
WILESON: Paula Wileson.
PUHL: And where do you live?
WILESON: 404 Parvis Road.
PUHL: Why are we here, Paula?
WILESON: Excuse me?
PUHL: When you last came in here to tell us your…theory…about Ryan Hooks, you said you’d never been back to the apartment on Oak Street. But that wasn’t true, was it?
WILESON: (Inaudible)
PUHL: I need you to speak up, please.
WILESON: No, it wasn’t true.
PUHL: Okay, from here on out, I need you to tell me the truth, the whole truth, not just bits and pieces. Can you do that for me?
WILESON: Yes.
PUHL: Okay. So, when did you first go back?
WILESON: To the apartment? The night of the party—
PUHL: Not just inside. Outside, around, down the block. Anywhere nearby. And I want you to be careful here, because I already know a lot.
WILESON: Oh, okay. Well, yeah, I went back a few days later, because I went to a dog park nearby.
PUHL: Why did you go there?
WILESON: Because I saw Emma Bentley.
PUHL: The woman who you saw in the window on Saturday, August 1.
WILESON: Yes. I was just driving by, and I saw her, and I stopped. I promise you, I can’t really explain why. I just wanted to learn more about her. So I pulled over, and we got to talking.
PUHL: Then you went back to the park a couple days later.
WILESON: I did. She wasn’t there when I arrived, but when she got there, she came right over, and we started talking.