Nicole looked at her. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“It’s possible that there were two crystal-based weapons all along,” Judson said. “We don’t have all the answers yet. You said that you went to Louise’s house to ask her a question.”
“Yes.”
“What was it you wanted to ask her?” Judson asked.
“I remembered what Zander had said about Louise having the ability to adjust the camera focus. He called her a witch, but he told me that very few people had her kind of talent. It occurred to me that if Gwen was using the camera, she would need to get it refocused periodically and that maybe she knew that Louise could do that kind of magic.”
“That was very good thinking,” Gwen said. “The same thing had occurred to me. Now that Louise is dead, Judson and I are going on the theory that whoever has the camera was using Louise to tune it but then decided that she had become a liability and killed her before we could talk to her.”
“Yes, I think that is exactly what happened,” Nicole said. “When I found her body, I was terrified. Those damn chimes. I think I’ll hear them in my nightmares for the rest of my life.”
“The chimes were sounding when you got there?” Judson asked.
“Yes,” Nicole said. She unfolded her arms and massaged her temples. “It was like a ghost was causing them to make that terrible music. It seemed to be getting louder and louder. I wanted to run. But then I heard your car in the driveway. I thought maybe the two of you were working together. You had murdered Evelyn and Louise and now you were going to kill me, too. The chimes made it impossible to think clearly.” Nicole paused to take a deep breath. “But last night I realized I had been wrong about you, Gwen, and probably everything else, as well.”
“What convinced you that I wasn’t the killer?” Gwen asked.
Nicole moved one hand in a small gesture. “You and Mr. Coppersmith saved me from the fire.”
“That’s it?” Gwen frowned. “You decided we were the good guys just because we didn’t leave you behind when the house went up in flames?”
“The kind of monster Zander described to me would have left me in that house.” Nicole shook her head. “How could I have been so wrong about Zander?”
“The ability to charm those around him was part of his talent,” Gwen said. “You know that he was psychic. Well, think of him as a kind of hypnotist. He could make people believe just about anything. Evelyn and I were fooled for a while, too. So was everyone else in town.”
“I wonder if he fooled Louise,” Nicole said quietly. “That poor crazy old witch. Do you suppose she ever realized that she was aiding and abetting a serial killer?”
Thirty-four
We need some deep background on Zander Taylor,” Judson said. “And we need it fast. How much did you and Evelyn find out about him when you realized that he might be the killer?”
“Not much,” Gwen said. “All we had to go on were the forms that he filled out for Evelyn’s files when he joined the study. He claimed that his mother gave him up for adoption shortly after he was born. Evidently something terrible happened to his adoptive parents. Zander told us they were murdered in the course of a home invasion. Afterward he ended up in the foster care system. But who knows? With Zander, you could never be sure when you were getting the truth.”
Judson thought about that while he pried off the lid of his coffee cup. Gwen’s cup of tea sat untouched in the console between the two front seats. They had picked up the coffee and tea at Wilby’s lone fast-food restaurant after leaving Nicole’s shop. At Gwen’s suggestion, he had driven out along a narrow road that dead-ended on a tree-studded bluff overlooking the falls.
From where they were parked, they could see the old lodge that Evelyn had converted into a lab on the opposite side of the river. The windowless structure sat shrouded in gloom and shadow, another sad monument to the futility of pursuing paranormal research, Judson thought.
Gwen contemplated the dark lodge through the windshield. “Every dime Evelyn ever got went into that lab. I asked her once why she had wasted so much of her life trying to prove the paranormal was normal.”
“Did she give you an answer?”
“She said she had been saddled with the ability to perceive just far enough beyond the normal to know that the paranormal existed. She said that a little knowledge was always a dangerous thing because it made you want more. She yearned for answers.”
“So does my brother, Sam. He says he can’t abandon the research when the reality of the paranormal confronts him every time he looks into a mirror. And now he’s talking about doing the research for the sake of his future children.”
“I’ve met Sam, and it’s obvious that he’s fascinated with crystals and para-physics,” Gwen said. “But that’s not what compels you, is it?”
“No. Don’t get me wrong. I’m always interested in what comes out of the lab—everyone in the Coppersmith family is curious about the research—but I’m not obsessed with the latest crystal theories or the results of some new experiment.” He shrugged, drank some of the coffee and lowered the cup. “Not unless I can figure out how to use it.”
Gwen smiled her knowing smile. “In the course of one of your investigations.”
“Sam is my partner in Coppersmith Consulting because he likes the scientific and technical end of the security business—the forensics. But me, I like the hunt.”
“Yes, I know.” She picked up her tea and removed the lid. “I also get the feeling that you like to work alone.”
“I can work with Sam,” he said, feeling oddly defensive.
“Sure,” she said. “Because he’s family. You can trust him.”
He breathed deep and exhaled slowly. “I trust you, Gwen.”
She looked startled. Then she positively glowed.
“Why, thank you,” she said. “I’m honored. As it happens, I trust you, too.”
“Good. That’s good.” He shifted slightly, searching for a path into the difficult conversation he wanted to have. “There’s something else I want to say. I respect what you do with your talent.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? I’m thrilled. I have to tell you there’s just not a lot of respect out there for those of us in the psychic counseling profession.”