“One set of prints leading down to the water,” Ben mused. “Makes you wonder if she got into a boat with someone.”
Anna frowned as she stared at the footprints. “Why would she do that? Unless she was forced…”
Ben shook his head. “Doesn’t look that way. Only one set of prints, no other tire tracks, no sign of a struggle. She even took the time to take her keys and lock her car. I’d say it’s more likely she drove down here to meet someone.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. When she left the garage, she said she was headed straight for San Antonio.”
“Maybe she had a change of plans. Someone could have called her on her cell phone and asked her to meet them here.”
“Or lured her here. Think about it, Ben. Emily is determined to prove Katherine was murdered. What if someone called her yesterday and told her they had the proof she’s been looking for? I think it’s pretty likely she would have gone off with them, especially if it was someone she trusted.”
Ben took out his cell phone. “We can speculate about this all day, but, like it or not, we’d better get Mendoza out here.”
As Ben made the call, Anna turned to study the river. A dark premonition descended over her. Even if Emily had left with someone of her own free will, Anna had a bad feeling she wouldn’t be returning in the same way.
A LITTLE WHILE LATER, Ben dropped Anna in front of the hotel. “Try to get some rest, okay? I’ll call if I hear anything.”
“You have my cell phone number?” Anna asked.
He patted his shirt pocket. “Right here.”
She nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll just wait to hear from you then.”
He took her hand before she could slide out of the Jeep, and Anna turned. As their gazes met, a deep awareness settled around her. That strange, disconcerting sensation of having known him before, intimately.
He said nothing, and after a moment, he released her hand, and Anna climbed from the Jeep and hurried into the hotel.
Chapter Eleven
When Anna awakened, she could tell by the shadows in her room that it was late in the day. She’d fallen asleep sometime after Ben dropped her off at the hotel, and had napped for hours, her body demanding the rest it had been deprived of the night before.
Still groggy from such a deep sleep, she dragged herself out of bed and padded across the floor to open the French doors and step out onto the balcony. The sun was just setting over the river, tinting the water with a warm, burnished glow. Anna’s gaze went automatically to the ruins of the old mission, and she watched for a moment, thinking she might see again whoever had been in there her first evening at the hotel.
But nothing stirred. Even the mild breeze she’d noticed earlier seemed to have died away, creating an uncanny calm before the approaching twilight.
Anna turned to go back inside, but a sound caught her attention, and she remained motionless for a moment, listening. Someone was playing the piano downstairs.
Even in such breathless tranquility, the faint tinkle of the piano keys was barely discernible. But Anna knew the tune that was being played.
Heart and Soul.
The hair on the back of her neck lifted as she stood listening to the music. Then rushing back inside, she hurried across the room to the hallway.
She paused outside her door to glance up and down the corridor. No one was about. Emily was still missing and Dwight Gump, the long-term resident of the hotel, was still presumably out of town. That only left Anna and the new guest, Mr. Carter, in Room 203.
As she approached the stairs, she could see that the door to his room was closed, but whether he was inside or not, she had no idea. She had no idea what he looked like, either, or if there even really was a Mr. Carter.
Now you’re sounding paranoid, a tiny voice taunted her.
But paranoid or not, there was something strange about Margarete and Acacia Cortina. There was something strange about this hotel, and Anna now had a hard time believing she’d once thought it quaint.
She had a sudden image of Margarete, butcher knife in hand, chasing the hapless felines through the halls of the hotel. And then of Acacia, vampire-like, luring them to their demise.
You really are losing it, Anna told herself as she hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, she bypassed the dining room where the tables were already starting to fill up with the dinner crowd and crept down the hallway that, according to Emily, led to the Cortinas’ private quarters. Anna didn’t feel comfortable trespassing so brazenly, but she wanted to make sure it really was one of Acacia’s students who was playing the piano.
The sound grew louder as she moved down the hallway, but as she neared the door at the end, the playing stopped. Anna pushed open the door, not certain what excuse she would give to Acacia for bursting in on her lesson.
But the room was empty.
Anna stood gazing around. Where had the music come from if not from this room?
The space must once have been a library. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined three walls, but most of the books were gone. Only a few scattered volumes remained, and Anna wondered if perhaps Margarete had done away with the books when she’d gotten rid of the cats.
A shiver ran up Anna’s spine as she entered the room. She experienced a deep uneasiness, but it wasn’t the same feeling she’d had in the mission or standing outside Emily’s door. On those occasions, she’d been certain she was standing in the presence of evil, or where evil had been. This was more subtle. More…cunning somehow.
An old baby grand piano sat in front of a row of French doors that looked out on the back lawn and the river beyond. One of the doors stood slightly ajar, as if someone had just slipped away. Suppressing another shudder, Anna walked across the room and stepped out onto a stone patio. Her room was directly above the music room which would explain how she’d been able to hear the piano.
But…if Acacia had been giving a lesson only moments earlier, where was she now? Where was her student? Why had they left so suddenly?
As Anna glanced toward the river, she saw a silhouette at the top of the steps that led down to the dock. Just a glimpse, nothing more, but for a moment, she thought it might be Emily.
Leaving the patio, Anna hurried across the lawn to stand at the top of the steps. She couldn’t see anyone. Not on the dock or along the bank. Whoever had been there a moment ago had vanished.
The sun had dipped below the horizon by now, and though it was still daylight, the cypress trees that lined the bank cast deep shadows across the water. Fruit bats darted low through the woods, and Anna shivered in the warm twilight. Without the sun, an eerie quality descended over the river. A dark, waiting stillness.
A boat tied up at the dock stirred in the sluggish current, reminding Anna of Ben’s speculation earlier that Emily had left her car and gone off willingly in a boat. Had she come back to the hotel in a boat?
A twig snapped behind her, and Anna whirled, startled, then she let out a breath of relief. A middle-aged couple nodded politely and smiled. “Nice evening for a walk,” the man murmured as they moved past her to the steps.
Anna waited until they were almost to the bottom, then she followed them down. They turned left along the river and were soon lost to her sight. Anna walked over to the dock and strode to the end where the boat was tied up.
It was a small, fiberglass fishing boat, hardly more than a dinghy, with planks on the inside for seating and a small outboard motor. As Anna peered over the railing, she saw dark stains across the side and in the bottom.
She knelt on the dock, trying to get a better look. With one hand holding on to the railing for support, she leaned as far down as she possibly could.
Blood was smeared over the sides and in the bottom where something—or someone—had been dragged inside.
Anna recoiled in horror. Her first thought was to run to a phone and call Ben. But before she could get to her feet, she heard the wooden planks of the dock creak behind her.
Still kneeling an
d leaning over the water, she was completely vulnerable to the presence that had crept up behind her.
BEN CLOSED THE FOLDER he’d been reading and rubbed the bridge of his nose. One of his H.P.D. contacts had faxed him the crime scene and lab reports in the Michael English case, and he’d been going over the file all afternoon.
So far, nothing he’d read even remotely tied English’s murder to Scorpio. For one thing, Scorpio’s other victims—the ones who’d been found, at least—had all been female caucasians. Like those victims, English had been shot in the head, but the slug didn’t match any of the bullets taken from the young women. Nor had a scorpion, the killer’s signature, been left at the crime scene. The only similarity was the mutilation to the chest cavity. The killer had attempted to cut out the doctor’s heart.
But even there, the inconsistencies were glaring. In Scorpio’s early kills, the incisions had been crude and brutal, but in the later victims, the mutilation had been accomplished much more cleanly and efficiently.
So why had Michel English’s murderer left before the mission was complete? Why leave the heart?
It was possible the killer had run out of time. The murder had taken place in daylight. The killer might well have been frightened off by a barking dog or a passing car.
It was also possible that this was the killer’s first attempt at mutilation. A new killer—one less accomplished than Scorpio—could be on the prowl in Houston.
For a moment, Ben considered calling Doug Jamison, the FBI profiler who’d worked on Operation Exterminate, and getting his take on the case. But it was too early for that.
For now, all Ben could do was wait.
And while he waited, the killer could already be stalking the next victim.
Rising from his desk, Ben stretched, then paced to the window to stare out. It was still light out, but the shadows crawling across the shrubbery and topiaries gave the grounds the look of a necropolis.
Restless, Ben decided to take a walk. He strode out of the room and down the hallway, and when he passed Gabby’s room, he considered for a moment asking her to join him. But she was probably on her computer and wouldn’t want to be interrupted. Besides, Ben really needed to be alone. He needed time to think, to sort through the case.
But a few minutes later, when he found himself on the trail along the river, he knew—had known all along—what his final destination would be.
He was going to see Anna.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop wanting her. In the short time she’d been in San Miguel, she’d gotten under his skin in a big way, and Ben didn’t know what in the hell to do about it. Why didn’t she just go back to Houston and leave him in peace?
But if she went back to Houston, Ben wondered if he would be far behind her. Ever since he’d heard about the English case, he’d been thinking that it might be time for him to return to the city. Maybe he was wrong about San Miguel. Maybe his prey was still in Houston.
Gabby could go with him if she wanted to. He’d find a way to appease Gwen. They could find a condo or townhouse near a good school. Money was no object, thanks to Katherine.
But the thought of spending her money left a bad taste in Ben’s mouth. Besides, he had his pension and a pretty nice nest egg from the book. And he wasn’t exactly without prospects.
One of his old partners was now part owner in a private investigation firm in Houston. Ted McElroy had been trying to get Ben to come to work at BMI for years now. The last time Ben had been in Houston—the day Michael English had been murdered—he’d dropped by the BMI offices and Ted had extended the offer again. Ben had never considered it seriously before because deep down he’d harbored the hope that somehow, some way he could get back on the force.
But that was never going to happen. Maybe it was time he accepted the fact that his cops days were over and began to seriously consider Ted’s offer.
Someone hurried along the trail toward him, and Ben moved over to allow her to pass. When she drew near, he saw that it was Gwen. The blue jean cutoffs and bikini top she wore were soaking, as was her hair.
“What happened to you?” he asked. “Fall in the river?”
Her eyes glinted with amusement as she stared up at him. “I’ve just come from a swim. The water’s great this time of day.”
He frowned. “You shouldn’t go swimming alone. The currents look slow but they can be tricky if you aren’t careful.”
She gave a low laugh as she wrung out her hair. “That’s what makes it so much fun.”
Ben stared at her for a moment. What she’d just said…the way she said it…
She’d never reminded him more of Katherine.
She gave her wet hair a shake. “What’s the matter, Ben? You look as if you just saw a ghost.”
“Maybe I did,” he muttered. “For a moment there—”
“What?”
He paused. “You sounded just like Katherine.”
Something flashed in her eyes, an emotion he couldn’t quite define. She shook her head again. “I may sound like my sister, but I’m not her. I’m younger than she was, in case you haven’t noticed. And stronger. Some might even say prettier.”
When Ben said nothing, she smiled coyly. “What’s the matter, Ben? Cat got your tongue? Oh, but that’s not possible around here, is it? Not since Margarete did away with all the little kitties.”
Ben frowned at her tone.
Gwen saw his reaction and laughed. “You know what I think? I think those cats never left the hotel. They’re all buried on the grounds somewhere. I wonder if Margarete hears them crying at night?”
“That’s a pretty gruesome theory,” Ben said.
Gwen laughed again, enjoying herself. “Or maybe it was Acacia. She’s always been a little bloodthirsty, and besides, she’s told that reincarnated Mayan princess story so many times, I think she’s starting to believe it. Maybe she sacrificed the cats.”
“I thought the Mayans were peaceful,” Ben said.
“A common misconception,” Gwen said. “They used human sacrifices, too. Cut the hearts out and offered them to the gods just like the Aztecs did. They just didn’t enjoy it as much.” Her eyes gleamed in the twilight.
“How do you know so much about the Mayans?”
“Katherine told me. She was fascinated by primitive cultures. Where do you think Acacia got the idea that she was a reincarnated Mayan princess? She believed every word Katherine told her, but then…” Gwen paused. “Katherine could make people believe a lot of things, couldn’t she, Ben?”
WATER LAPPED against Anna’s face, a bracing chill that brought her instantly awake. She was in a boat. She could feel it rocking gently back and forth.
She strained to remember what had happened. Had she fallen off the dock into the boat?
Still slightly dazed, she glanced around, noticing that the seats had been removed. She was lying flat on her back in the bottom of the boat in several inches of water. And then, when she tried to sit up, she discovered that her wrists and ankles were bound with cord and strapped to the oar hooks.
A cold, mind-numbing panic seized her, and Anna began to tug furiously at the bindings. But the harder she pulled, the tighter the knots became until the pain in her wrists and ankles grew agonizing.
Every time she moved, water splashed in her nose and mouth, causing her to sputter, and frantically she lifted her head as high as she could. The water level in the boat was continuing to rise. In another few moments, it would be completely submerged.
Struggling to keep her face above water, Anna cast about frantically for help, but she could barely see over the side of the boat. She called out, hoping, praying that someone from the hotel would hear her.
But as her eyes became accustomed to the deepening twilight, she realized the boat was no longer moored at the dock but anchored half a mile downstream. She could see the ruins of Mission San Miguel rising eerily from the shadows on the bank.
That she had been brought here to this p
recise spot was no accident. Anna was certain of that. Whoever had done this to her knew the river well. They’d picked the deepest point to send her to her death.
Send her to her death…
Who wanted to kill her? And why?
The same person who’d killed Katherine? Emily?
The questions raged inside Anna’s mind, but were gone in an instant, replaced by the more pressing terror of trying to keep her head out of the rising water.
She had to get out of that boat, Anna thought desperately. There were houses along the river. Maybe someone would see her.
But the hope flitted away almost immediately. From the bank, the boat would appear empty. Even if someone took the time to investigate, it would be too late. The craft was already listing badly to one side.
And then, as the water gushed over the edge, the boat flipped, leaving the bottom momentarily exposed on the surface while Anna was trapped underneath.
The cold river water took her breath away, but for a moment, the weightlessness of her body made her feel as if she were free. Then the boat began to sink, carrying her with it, and Anna redoubled her efforts to free herself, straining and tugging at her bindings until one hand finally came loose.
She tore at the other cord, knowing there was precious little time. Once the boat settled on the bottom, she would be trapped forever. No one would ever know what happened to her…
Her lungs were screaming for air, but miraculously, the bindings on her wrist suddenly slipped away. Anna saw a dark figure in front of her and realized that someone was in the water with her. Her ankles came free next, and then she was being pulled from beneath the sinking boat.
As soon as her head broke the surface of the water, Anna drew in long gulps of air. Sputtering and coughing, she tried to tread water, but her legs and arms were too weak. She was sinking again.
Then suddenly, Ben was beside her, wrapping a strong arm around her, instructing her in a calm, authoritative voice to relax and not to struggle.
Confessions of the Heart Page 13
