“One was a long time ago, at least eighteen months. But Shonda only reported her missing a few months ago when her other friend disappeared.”
“Neither of them have been heard from since?” His mind raced. Eighteen months ago. Could the killer have been operating since then?
“The girl who went missing a few months ago—her name was Karen—was found dead. Of exposure.”
Ethan exhaled. So at least one of the missing girls wasn’t a victim. And her death fell right between two missing girls, breaking up the chain of disappearances. “And the other one?”
“Her name was Vangie Wright. She’s still missing. But the police told Shonda that she took so long to file the report she’d be hard to track down.”
“That’s true, especially if she lived on the streets. We’ll have to determine if this Vangie Wright is even related to the case.” He stared out of his car window. He knew what he was going to say next would rankle, but damn it, he had a job to do. “I’ll pass this on to Vicky. If anyone can track her down, it’ll be her.”
There was silence. “Can you let me know what she finds out?” The unspoken message was clear: Kate wasn’t about to call Vicky herself. “I told Shonda I’d get back to her.”
The implications of this slammed into his exhausted brain. “You’ve spoken to her already? I thought you’d gotten this information from Lisa MacAdam’s grandmother.” He fought to keep his voice calm. “Kate, this is a homicide investigation. We can’t have you interviewing potential witnesses. You know the best information comes from the first interview. It needs to be done by an experienced investigator.”
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry to Ethan. He knew once she got something in her sights, she was relentless about tracking it down. That had been a quality he’d admired in her. Until now. “I promised Marian MacAdam I’d talk to Shonda because she said the police weren’t doing anything about it.”
“And you believed that?” He didn’t bother to hide his anger. Too little sleep, two murders too many and too few leads weren’t helping. “You think we’d just ignore the only lead we’ve got? You think we’re a bunch of idiots, Kate?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Did Randall put you up to it?” It’d be just like the bastard to mess around in a police investigation. He’d done it before. If he knew Ethan was on this one, it’d be all the more reason for him to get in the middle of it.
“No. Of course not.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
She inhaled sharply. “You really don’t think much of me, do you?’
He couldn’t answer that. He didn’t know what he thought about her anymore. Finally, he said, “Stay out of this, Kate. There’s a psychopathic killer on the loose. Leave it to the police to handle. Stay away from Shonda.”
She could not jeopardize a homicide investigation because of personal demons. Two young women were dead. And he was scared—yes, he’d admit it, he was scared—that there’d be a third. Soon. His eyes scanned the sky. When would it turn leaden and menacing with rain?
“I can’t, I made a promise—”
Kate needed to understand just how high the stakes were. “Damn it, Kate, there are young girls’ lives at risk here—”
“I know—”
“And you are jeopardizing them!”
“No. I’m not.”
He drew in a deep, frustrated breath. “Already you’ve potentially ruined our best source of information on the case by speaking to Shonda, and now you want to call her again and share confidential information. It could affect the whole outcome of our investigation. It could cause the killer to either not be caught or, worse, be released for lack of evidence.” He knew that she would understand the implications of this.
There was a painful silence. “I was just doing what I thought was best.”
He sighed heavily. “Leave it to the police. We’re the good guys, remember?”
Chapter 23
A gleaming black truck with an enclosed bed in the back pulled into Kate’s driveway at exactly 7:00 p.m. That was a good sign. He was right on time.
She’d gotten home ten minutes before, her briefcase crammed with her neglected TransTissue research, the disastrous phone call to Ethan still running through her head. He’d been right about everything. But he couldn’t see that she’d tried to do the right thing, too. He thought she had ulterior motives. He didn’t understand that she was doing this to try to help victims, just like him.
The truck door swung open and a young guy in his twenties stepped out.
Whoa. She’d seen this guy before. Tall, blond, muscular. He strode toward the house, hips swaggering slightly. She smoothed back the corner of the living room curtain before he could spot her.
Alaska jumped excitedly at her heels. She didn’t get many visitors, so anyone showing up on her front porch was worthy of delirious excitement. It was infectious. She felt a bit excited herself. It helped smother the loneliness that had suddenly hit her.
A brisk knock announced the new dog walker’s arrival. She swung open the door, hoping that the Doggie Do dog walking service would assuage her guilt at leaving Alaska alone for so long.
“Hi,” the guy said, smiling. He had a great smile, warm and friendly. “I’m Finn Scott.”
“Hi. I’m Kate.” She opened the door wider. “Please come in.”
He walked in, his gaze taking in Kate in a slow, languorous sweep. Was that a look of appreciation in his eyes? Her cheeks grew warm, surprise mingling with a foolishly girlish glow. Being checked out was a welcome balm to her ragged ego after dealing with Ethan today.
Finn turned to Alaska. The husky wagged his tail and nosed Finn’s hand. Just his hand, fortunately. She still remembered the way he had greeted Ethan. It had been a prescient foreshadowing of every interaction she’d had with her ex-fiancé since.
“This is Alaska,” she said to Finn. She allowed herself a proud smile.
Finn knelt down and looked into the dog’s eyes, scratching him behind the ears. Then he stood, ignoring the white fur coating his faded Levi’s. Alaska leaned against his legs. “I’ll take you out in just a minute, buddy,” he said.
He turned to Kate. “I always like to take them out on their own the first time, so we get used to each other before I introduce him to all the other dogs. Where’s his leash?”
“Right here.” She passed it to him, already feeling reassured by this man. He seemed to know instinctively how to handle dogs. She’d quizzed him on the phone about his dog-handling experience and his program, feeling slightly ridiculous about how much reassurance she needed that Alaska would be in good hands.
Finn led the husky outside. The dog obediently trotted by his heel. They walked down the block, around the corner. He had a relaxed but purposeful stride. Alaska obviously had warmed to him. She had, too. Ten minutes later, he was back. She watched them come inside. How in the world had he gotten Alaska so completely under his thumb in ten minutes? “You’re going to have to show me how to do that,” she said with a rueful smile. “He pulls me like a sleigh.”
“You have to let him know who’s the lead dog,” Finn said. “It’s all in the body language. Look at my shoulders. See how relaxed I am?”
Did he realize she’d been looking at his shoulders since he’d gotten out of his car? A flush heated her chest. His shoulders were broad, solid, well developed under his white T-shirt.
Like Randall Barrett’s.
Shit. She was really losing it. There was no question. First Ethan, then Randall, and now one look at Finn and she was suffused with a desire to feel the hard body of a man.
She looked away. “Yes. I can see that.”
He removed Alaska’s leash. “Go get some water, boy.”
The husky trotted into the kitchen.
“You’ve got a very special dog there,” Finn said.
She smiled, bemused at the effect the dog walker had on Alaska. And on her.
She was being pathetic. You’re just feeling
weak and vulnerable, that’s all. The events of the past week had made her doubt everything she’d ever done that was good in her life and forced her to remember everything she regretted.
She’d never felt lonelier.
“I’m so glad you could come tonight.” Then realized how that could sound. She rushed on, “It’s really important to me that Alaska gets some company during the day. I’m at work until at least six…”
Finn responded with an easy smile. The smile prodded her memory again. She could feel it coming into focus. Wait…it was there…teasing her mind…
The funeral.
He looked like the man who’d walked in with her at the funeral. He’d tried to help her when she made her embarrassingly hurried exit, but Ethan had cut him off.
She studied him. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt but in a suit…?
“You look really familiar to me,” she said, then felt a small burn in her cheeks. She was sure he got it from all his single female clients. She didn’t want him to think she was just like all the others.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. They were blue-green. Nice eyes. “Hmmm…you look familiar, too.”
Did he mean it or was he just playing along? “Were you at Lisa MacAdam’s funeral on Saturday?”
He started. “Yeah. Were you?”
“Yes.”
“It was really awful what happened to her.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Lisa was a nice kid,” he added.
It was her turn to be surprised. “You knew her?”
“One of my clients lived on the same floor as she did. She used to come over and visit the dog. She loved dogs.” A light flush tinged his tanned face.
Kate noted it, puzzled. Then she realized why he’d reacted the way he did. It wasn’t just dogs that the fifteen-year-old girl had loved. She’d had a crush on the dog walker. It was only natural, given his rugged blond looks, his way with animals. Probably happened to Finn all the time.
“Did you spend a lot of time with her?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “We were friends. She was a nice kid underneath it all.”
“Underneath what?” She suddenly needed to know what this dead girl had been like. What had driven her to that street corner.
He seemed to understand that. “Underneath the tough skin. You know, the dyed hair, the makeup.” His eyes were haunted. “She tried so hard to be like the other girls, you know, flirting and stuff, but really she was still a kid. She had this tattoo…”
“A tattoo?” That didn’t sound very kidlike.
“It was a dog. One she’d met when she was eight, she told me. She’d loved this dog, wanted one so badly. But her mother wouldn’t let her get one.” He looked away. “It was cruel. I would have taken it for walks for free…” His gaze swung back to Kate. “She was just a kid, you know?”
“I know,” Kate said, her voice soft. A kid who never had a chance to be a kid.
Sadness settled between them, drawing them together with the unnatural intimacy of the grief stricken.
“You know what really gets me,” he said suddenly, “was seeing her grandmother put her stuffed dog in the coffin. I’ll never forget that.”
That ragged, dingy dog with one ear. Kate had tried to block the memory. The toy dog had somehow settled itself into the hollow of the dead girl’s neck. Her protector.
Kate blinked away tears. What was happening to her? She was about to fall apart in front of a man she had just met. She flashed him a quick glance. He didn’t look in such great shape himself.
She cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you, you know, for stepping out to help me at the end of the service…” She trailed off. There was no mistaking the bafflement in Finn’s eyes. “It wasn’t you?”
“No.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Kate’s mind raced. He looked so familiar. Then again, if you lived in Halifax long enough, half the faces you saw were familiar.
Finn turned to the door. The strange mood was broken. He said with forced briskness, “I’ll pick up Alaska at ten a.m. tomorrow and then again at three-thirty.”
“Great. I wish I could be home by five, but with my job…”
He smiled, a slow, reassuring smile that eased Kate’s guilt. “Don’t feel bad. The dogs enjoy the companionship.”
“Oh. I almost forgot.” She picked up a spare key that she’d left on the hall table and gave it to him. “The lock is very old, so you need to jiggle it a bit…”
“No problem.” He put the key on a ring with about ten others. Kate noticed he had a leather thong wrapped twice around his wrist. It was worn and rugged, sexy against his strong forearm. “Most of my clients live in the south end, and most have old locks. I’m used to them.” He gave Alaska one final scratch. “See you tomorrow, boy.”
“If you have any problems, here’s my work number.” She handed him her card. The embossed letters glimmered in the hall light. “And I’ll leave a check for you under the plant.” She gestured to a geranium that sat on the hall table. It was wilting and needed to be deadheaded. He must think she was incapable of caring for any living thing. And then she wondered why she cared what he thought of her.
He tucked her card in his pocket. “I doubt Alaska will give me any trouble.” He held out his hand. “It was nice meeting you.”
She shook his hand. His fingers were warm and strong around hers. Before her imagination could taunt her with any more images of a man’s hard body comforting hers, she pulled her hand away and held open the door.
She watched him walk toward his truck. He had a cute butt. He had a cute everything. And he loved dogs.
She closed the door. You are so screwed up. Wasn’t it bad enough that you almost threw yourself at your boss? That you almost let Ethan kiss you? Wasn’t that humiliating enough? Now you’re eyeing the dog walker?
But Finn was different. He wasn’t dangerous in the way that Ethan or Randall were. He didn’t threaten the fragile sutures of her lacerated heart.
She leaned against the door. It didn’t matter that Finn was too young for her. Or that she hired him to look after her dog. He had made her feel like she was a woman who was desirable. Physically and emotionally.
She hadn’t felt that way in months.
She fed Alaska and boiled an egg for herself. Half an hour later, she emptied her briefcase onto her kitchen table and got to work. It was time to do what she’d been hired to do.
At 12:08 a.m. she pushed her chair back and stood, stretching. Satisfaction spread through her as she tidied the papers littered on the table. The cases looked promising. Good enough to give TransTissue a solid defense.
Alaska watched her from his vantage point by the kitchen door. His tail thumped encouragingly. He wanted to go to bed and was waiting for her to say the word.
“Okay, boy, time for bed.” He pushed himself to his feet and lumbered down the hall.
She followed him, switching off lights. She had lived in the house for more than three months and still wasn’t used to the noises. Late at night was the worst. Long shadows cloaked the corners of the hall. As she walked toward her bedroom, floorboards creaked, their moans sounding strangely human to her ears.
Ever since the intruder had been in her garden ten days ago, the noises had bothered her. Even Alaska seemed on edge, getting up at night to prowl the house. No wonder she was always tired.
She switched on the overhead light in her room. The light didn’t break through the shadow in the corners, despite the pale blue walls and white trim. Kate had thought the blue would look fresh and modern. Now she regretted her color choice. The room was so cavernous, the cool shade made it look even colder and barren. Her bedroom furniture appeared meager and sticklike under the ten-foot ceilings. Only when she’d snuggled down under the covers did she feel warm.
It was going to be difficult to get out of it at 6:00 a.m. for her run. She had stayed up too late and tomorrow she would pay the price.
Alaska was performing his nig
htly circles on his bed when she crawled under her sheets. Within seconds, she fell asleep.
The howl cut through her dream.
Chapter 24
Tuesday, May 8, 2:00 a.m.
Her mind hovered between consciousness and sleep.
The second howl brought her straight out of bed.
“Alaska!”
She grabbed her robe and ran down the stairs, shrugging it over her pj’s.
Alaska howled again. He was in the kitchen.
Goose bumps shivered down Kate’s arms. She had only heard Alaska howl once before. That time he had been outside the kitchen door.
She ran into the kitchen. Alaska had scrambled onto the counter and frantically pawed the window. Kate followed his gaze.
Someone was in the backyard.
She could just make out the hooded form, bent over the ragged garden in the back. The intruder was digging.
Fear prickled along her neck.
Was this Lisa MacAdam’s and Krissie Burns’ killer?
She needed to call the police.
“Be quiet, Alaska,” she hissed. She wanted the intruder caught this time. So far, it seemed that he hadn’t heard Alaska’s unearthly howling.
She pulled the husky off the counter. A movement caught her eye.
Someone walked through the garden gate. It was a woman. Elderly, her back stooped, her white hair glowed in an unearthly halo around her head. She walked slowly, but purposefully, across Kate’s yard.
What was this woman doing? Couldn’t she see there was a killer fifty feet away from her?
The lady walked right by the kitchen porch.
Kate grabbed the mop and threw open the bolt on the kitchen door. She ran onto the porch, wincing as her toe struck an uneven board.
“Jesus!”
The elderly lady stopped in her tracks and shot her a shocked glance.
“Watch out!” Kate leaped down the stairs, holding the mop out in front of her. “There’s someone in my garden!” She gestured over her shoulder. “Quick! Come into the house. I’m going to call the police.”
[Kate Lange 01.0] Damaged Page 17
