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“They’re just pictures! I was never going to do anything to them!”
“Cassidy Holt,” Faith said, trying to bring the conversation back to the subject at hand. “How did you know her?”
Oliver looked like he was going to be sick. He tapped on the table and squirmed in his seat.
“You already admitted to taking pictures, Oliver,” Faith said. “The police already found the evidence. If Cassidy Holt andSamantha Reynard show up in any of those pictures, we’ll find out. All that remains to be seen is if you’ll cooperate with us or make things difficult.”
“On that note,” Michael added. “If you aren’t the murderer, then cooperating with us will make life much easier for you. Once you prove to us that you’re not a killer, we lose interest. Then your case becomes a P.D. case over a peeping Tom.”
“I thought I was innocent until proven guilty.”
“That’s the assumption the court makes when you go to trial, yes. But it’s our job to catch murderers. Right now, you look like a murderer. So we’re going to try to catch you. Jump off of this hook, Oliver, if you can.”
Oliver took a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. “Cassidy Holt visited the pharmacy. I filled her prescription and got her address that way. She was hot, man. I mean, she washothot. I’ve always liked petite girls, so I visited her home a few times and got some pictures of her coming out of the shower.”
Faith controlled her visceral reaction to that admission. She was grateful now that she had given in and allowed Hilary to get his warrant. “Did you kill her, Oliver?”
“No!”
“Maybe you tried to make a move on her?” Michael said. “She rejected you, you got upset, things got out of hand.”
“No! I never tried to make a move on her.”
“Maybe she caught you?” Faith asked. “In front of her house. Threatened to call the police. You knew what would happen if they found your collection, so you killed her to silence her.”
Oliver scoffed. “Oh yeah, I committed murder to keep her from telling the cops I take pictures.”
“Sarcasm is not your friend here, bud,” Michael advised.
Oliver began to shake. “When did they die?”
Faith lifted an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“When did theydie?I want to know if I have an alibi for their deaths so I can prove I didn’t kill them.”
Faith and Michael exchanged a look. “Fair enough,” Michael said. “Cassidy Holt died five days ago. Samantha Reynard died two days ago.”
“At night or daytime?”
“Night.”
He slumped forward, releasing his breath in a whoosh of air. “Oh, thank God. Thank God.”
Faith’s heart sank. “You have an alibi?”
“Yes.” He lifted his head. The relief on his face was palpable. “Yes, I have an alibi. I was taking video of other women both nights.”
Michael scoffed. “Oh, boy.”
“Hey, it’s better than murdering people, right?”
“What a lofty personal standard you set.”
“So those videos will prove that you couldn’t have been at the crime scenes,” Faith said, “the murder scenes, I mean.”
“Yes. Let’s see, five nights ago, I was at Georgia’s house. She had her boyfriend over, and she left her window open a crack, so I got to see them doing it.”
“Jesus Christ,” Michael exclaimed.
