She hoped that Joanna wouldn’t feel left out, and that in fact she’d benefit from being around people who behaved like a family should.
They had barely sat down when Joanna got a call.
“I’m so sorry. I have to take that.”
She only stepped aside for a couple of minutes, and when she joined them again, her expression signaled both pensive and relieved.
“Tonight’s appointment is off,” she said. “I guess we have a little more time after all.”
Rue hoped the reason was a good one. If the governor thought there was no hurry, what exactly did that mean?
* * * *
They stayed for dinner. The officer had conferred with Theo and, after declining the invitation to join them, went home. A relaxed evening with family. Nothing would have revealed the various trials all of them had been through to a casual observer, and that was just fine for Rue. She’d been ready to leave her life behind for Joanna, and she didn’t regret her decision—but she was happy to be here.
Despite her anger at Theo for uprooting their lives once again, for the first time, Rue wondered if there was an option for them that didn’t mean hiding from the world. She could almost make herself believe that this was normal, just her bringing home a date to meet her parents.
“Let’s have some dessert,” her father declared and got up to go to the kitchen, her mother following him. For the first time since their visit to Lawrence Mitchell’s, they were alone for a moment, one that Rue used to blur out everything that was on her mind.
“I’m so sorry for earlier with your dad. I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s okay.” Joanna smiled softly. “It’s kind of nice to have someone in my corner. And I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“I hope it’s not too much. You know there’s going to be a nightcap after dessert.”
“It’s all good. I swear.”
“Whatever the reason, he had no right to keep this information from you all those years. You had a right to know.”
“Yes, but…” Joanna shrugged. “That’s who he is. Frankly this wasn’t even a big surprise.” Her body language said otherwise. Rue acknowledged that they’d have to come back to this subject later.
“What did Theo say?”
Before Joanna said anything, Rue realized that this was another painful subject not suitable for pleasant small talk.
“The governor couldn’t make the time. And…There’s been another murder.”
Rue felt a shiver slither down her spine, a touch of cold cutting through the warm comfort of her surroundings. So much for wanting to stay in the city. But Liam Preston had found them anyway.
“I hate them,” she said. It might sound childish, but it was still true.
“They can’t do this forever. They’ll make mistakes.”
Her parents returned with coffee and cake, so Rue couldn’t ask Joanna what made her so confident.
* * * *
Perhaps it was just as well that they weren’t able to see the governor tonight, Joanna reflected when she sat at the table in the small sitting area of their hotel room while Rue was in the bathroom. She weighed the envelope in her hand.
Part of her couldn’t wait to open it. The fact that she hadn’t yet was a sign of her growing apprehension as much as the tension that had gripped her tightly.
All of these years, and it could have been this easy? Of course, nothing was ever easy with Lawrence. He had told her not to contact him unless she wasn’t gay anymore. She’d gone to see him that other time because of Rue, and today, because it might be the last chance. One might think that having been viciously attacked would make a difference, not that she’d had much hope. She shook her head. Even knowing him, his attitude was unbelievable. Gay people in the closet, women in “their place.” She could easily picture him in some dystopian secret society trying to bring back the “good old times.”
But this wasn’t about Lawrence, or her relationship with him. This was about the woman who had left them when Joanna was ten years old, never looking back, or perhaps she had if she accepted help from her former husband. What kind of help? Money to jumpstart her career?
“Why did you leave me there?” she mumbled. She’d had no warning. Mary Mitchell, in her memory, was always kind, warm and soft-spoken. And then she was gone.
She hadn’t noticed Rue coming back into the room. She leaned down to gently embrace Joanna.
“You want to open it?”
Wiping a hand over her eyes, Joanna tossed the envelope on the table.
“I can’t do this now. Let’s deal with Theo and the governor first, and we’ll go from there.”
She didn’t have nightmares that night. Instead, the treacherous dream she’d had often in the weeks after Mary’s departure: Her mother holding her, stroking her hair.
Gone.
She woke with the same feeling of being bereft, crying quietly so she wouldn’t wake Rue.
Maybe they should have run.
* * * *
“How can you take this much time off anyway?”
Vanessa was unfazed by the grumpy greeting she received as she came to get Rue, to go out for breakfast, shopping, Joanna wasn’t sure. She did appreciate the concept—there was nothing much to do for Rue at the police station, and Joanna didn’t want her to look at crime scene photos.
Rue and Vanessa left. Joanna headed to the station where Allison and Theo were pouring over the kind of pictures she didn’t want on Rue’s mind. Some came from a security camera, the images slightly grainy. A man and a woman in non-descript clothes leaving the hotel. The medical examiner’s photos of the latest victim were a lot more graphic.
Peter Flint, a young bank teller, single, was reported missing by his employer when he hadn’t come in to work for several days.
“The motel room where they found him was a mess,” Theo said. “Someone tried to clean up, but it looks like they gave up halfway through.”
“Maybe we get lucky,” Joanna surmised. Neither Theo nor Allison questioned her use of “we,” which was both strange and comforting. She needed comfort in all the places she could get it.
“The evidence is still being processed,” Allison said. “But it’s a motel.”
“We got in before housekeeping.” Theo remained stubbornly optimistic.
“Grace can’t be happy about all this. She likes seduction, and precision when it comes to the murders. The markers, the cuts, everything had meaning, more than for Short even. Remember what Rue said.” She didn’t want to remember that Rue had once been in the slasher’s captivity and what she endured there. She didn’t want to talk about Grace like there was any redeeming quality to the woman, because there wasn’t. But they, too, had to be precise, and some things had definitely changed.
“What he does to the bodies, it’s different. More brutal, less…refined for a lack of a better word.”
Both Theo and Allison looked a little sick at that. It wasn’t like she was telling them anything new. They had been at the scene.
“She’ll rebel at some point, and that will either help us, or it will get her killed.”
“Can’t say I feel sorry for her,” Allison muttered.
“Neither do I, but we have to take those things into consideration.”
“We will,” Theo promised.
“Any relation between the victims?”
“Age, relationship status, and the bank where Flint worked, is on the same block as Simmons’ workplace. It’s possible that they ran into each other, though we don’t have evidence they knew each other.”
Joanna got up to look at the map on the cork board where the block Theo had indicated was circled in red. Stalking was Grace’s thing. To her, it looked like the man by her side simply liked brutal killings, without much preparation or afterthought. She shuddered, all of a sudden wondering if they’d overlooked something. Those hookups Oliver had described…Were they still alive? Did one of them live or work on this same block?
“I need to talk to Denise,” she said. “Perhaps the trip to the island wasn’t just about me.”
“You think he killed someone there?”
“Not necessarily. But he might have stolen someone’s information.”
“That would be a huge coincidence, don’t you think? If he found future victims in the same place?”
“He and Grace might feel differently about the killing method, but sex is a prelude for both of them. Find out more about Maggie and Peter’s dating habits, and what options they had close to work and home. See if there are any travels, and I’ll get you those names to check from Denise.”
There was a flash of irritation on Allison’s face, but she nodded. “Let’s get on that right away.”
* * * *
Even though time was of the essence, Theo felt like he had to make up for some—okay, a lot of things. He let Joanna make her call and instructed an officer to help her with running names if necessary, and gather that information until he and Allison returned.
His partner was annoyed with him, and rightfully so. He decided to take a few minutes to try and explain what the past few years had been like, for this department, and for Joanna.
He wasn’t proud of himself knowing everything Joanna had accused him of was true. They needed her to be helpful. If she was, they had a much better case to make to Governor O’Neal, who was somewhat on the fence, but open to ideas. She couldn’t condone vigilante justice, but it was within her discretion to acknowledge someone who had turned her life around.
“This isn’t good, Theo,” Allison told him as soon as they’d sat down in the coffee shop. “She knows her stuff, I’ll give you that. If this helps us catch them sooner, great, I’m all for it. But if this goes sideways, it’s your career and mine on the line.”
“It won’t. I promise. I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s just this one case. After that…”
“Your guilty conscience will let you be?” She shook her head. “I know I’ve come across as bitchy and jealous in the past few days, but that’s not it. Well, perhaps I’m a bit jealous, because it seems to come so easily to her…regardless, I’m afraid you are both trying to re-negotiate the past.”
“Lester and Preston are killing people in this city right now.”
“Yes, and perhaps we need even more detectives on this case. Joanna Mitchell isn’t one.”
“The governor could probably help her if she had something to show for, like assisting us with our case. O’Neal and I are working on a solution.”
“Working on a solution, you and the governor?” Allison repeated incredulously.
This was the first time he had shared the full extent of the possibilities with anyone. Allison’s reaction was pretty much what he’d expected.
“That means what exactly? She’s going to get her shield back? Come on. Everyone in the department knows what she did, clean slate or not.”
“We all know that first conviction was iffy.”
“You say that now, but it seemed that back then, everyone was convinced it was an execution. Joanna didn’t get convicted because people felt sorry for a dead serial killer. As you know, there was a whole lot more at stake. Again, I don’t want to be the woman bashing another woman on the job, but we’re all dealing with the same reality. We all dream of killing those sons of—see, even every swear word that comes to mind is an insult to women. My point is she knew what she was doing.”
“I don’t think she wants to come back, even if she could. Just this case, I need you to bear with me.”
“I guess I have no choice. But thanks for the muffin. I really needed that.”
“I knew it would help.” He grinned, sobering quickly when his cell phone rang.
“Theo,” Joanna said on the other end, “I think we have a hit.”
* * * *
“No, absolutely not.” In spite of what she had promised, Allison Kato wasn’t going to have Joanna be present when questioning a possible witness. “In fact, you can go back to your hotel. We’re really grateful for your help.” She could acknowledge that much. “But this will take a while. I promise we’ll let you know if we need you.”
She cast a questioning look at Theo who gave her a half-smile. Good enough.
Joanna looked a tad disappointed, but she didn’t protest.
“Sure. No problem. You know where to find me. I can walk.”
“Thank you. See you tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty
Joanna hadn’t missed the increasing tension between Theo and Allison. She was aware that her presence caused said tension—not that she had much of a choice under the circumstances. They still had to reschedule the meeting with the governor. The fact that the woman wanted to see her in the first place, and that no one thought of arresting her, were good signs.
This might be a breakthrough, and she could focus on her own life again…Still, it was a bit anti-climactic to leave at this moment.
Of the names Denise had given her, one person lived within the red circle: Laura Kingston. Her dates on the island overlapped with Preston’s, and she had a bank account with the same bank Peter Flint had worked for.
She might help them get closer to Preston. Joanna fervently hoped that it would be the case, because this kind of unpaid detective work was cruel punishment. She didn’t want to think about her old job, didn’t want to want it back when there was so much else going on.
At some point, she wouldn’t be able to avoid opening that envelope, discover more lies. Of Lawrence, or Mary, she wasn’t sure.
Rue remained the only real constant in her life.
“Excuse me? Joanna Mitchell?” a female voice asked, and the next moment, Joanna felt a distinct pressure against her back. That was when she recognized the voice, a reminder of a nightmarish past she was still trying to outrun. It turned out she hadn’t been fast enough.
* * * *
Joanna’s brief hope that the timid, tearful new mother she remembered might not have thought this through, vanished quickly.
Anya Decker had a car ready only a few feet away.
“Move,” she directed. “Get in there, and no tricks, or I’ll shoot you.”
In this context, it didn’t matter if she was a good or a bad shooter. It was all bad. Joanna obliged, her hands on the wheel. Anya trained the gun on her, though not close enough for Joanna to take it from her without risking both their lives.
“I never imagined you wanted to talk to me.” Joanna had thought that with her conviction and prison sentence, Anya had everything she needed. It had been a mistake to forget about her.
“I do now. Drive. And don’t try to get anyone’s attention,” Anya warned. “I’ll shoot you, and I’ll shoot them.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Joanna tried to reason, but she followed the instructions Decker’s widow gave her. Her mind was racing. All this time she’d thought she might be in danger from Grace, or the authorities. It had never occurred to her that Anya Decker thought they had unfinished business. She’d had her say in court that day. “Think of your kid. He needs you.”
“His foster parents think otherwise,” Anya said bitterly. “Now shut up. I’ll tell you where to go.”
Her son was in foster care? That was news to Joanna, but of course she hadn’t been able to follow the woman’s story from prison. Not that she’d wanted to think of a woman who was crying for her dead husband, the serial killer. It made her angry even now.
“I served time.” She kept her tone neutral. Despite her emotions for Mrs. Decker, Joanna wasn’t suicidal. She had to find a way to talk herself out of this. No one would get hurt today. She couldn’t risk Anya getting hurt.
“Not enough. You killed him in cold blood.”
And I lost everything over it! Joanna didn’t yell at her like she wanted for a brief moment. There was no point in provoking her. Besides, it might help if that’s what Anya thought of her—an ice cold killer.
“Where are we going?”
“
You’ll know when I tell you,” Anya snapped.
* * * *
“Yes, I met this guy on vacation,” Laura Kingston confirmed when Theo showed her the photo. “We spent a couple of days together before he had to leave. That’s not a crime, is it?” She changed gears when she realized her visitors didn’t find her question funny. “Why are you looking for him?”
“Have you ever seen this woman?” Allison asked. “Her name is Grace Lester, but she may have used an alias.”
“No, I’ve never seen her. But you haven’t answered my question.”
“Do the names Peter Flint or Maggie Simmons mean anything to you?”
“What is this, twenty questions? What’s the deal with Liam?”
“Haven’t you seen the news?” Theo asked, perplexed. “He’s a suspect in three murders and an assault.”
“That is…terrible.” Her expression was guarded now. “I mean, wow. Between my jobs and school, I don’t really have time to follow the news much. Are you sure? We just had a really good time on the island. Maybe you have the wrong guy.”
Something sprang to mind. Theo thought of a moment when Joanna had reminded him that victims sometimes withheld information for the fear of judgment, like Christina Danvers had at first. But Kingston wasn’t a victim—or had she told the whole truth?
“There was nothing about him that struck you as odd or worrisome?”
She shrugged. “I had a few days off from everything. Lots of sun and alcohol, and a sexy guy was showing interest—it was perfect. No, I didn’t think there was something odd about it. Just a vacation flirt.”
“Did you make any plans to meet afterwards—since you live in the same city?”
Her answer came with a delay that made Theo curious.
“Um, no, not really. I didn’t know that. I assume he has already moved on. Why do you think it’s him?”
“The victim of the assault could describe him.”
“A woman? Was she raped?”
“No. He walked into a man’s office and beat him up.”
Laura Kingston listened, shaking her head in disbelief. “I still think you are looking for the wrong guy. Maybe that man was mistaken. It happens, right?”
Exit Strategy Page 13
