by Debra Webb
He considered her question a moment, then gave her the straightforward tactic he preferred. “Identify yourself and explain that you’re here for Rebecca Brooks. They won’t give you her number, but they’ll offer to take a message or put through a call to her residence. If she doesn’t own property here, you’ll be told no one by that name is a tenant. Then we’ll know.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Shane reached for the door and held it open. She hesitated for only a moment before going inside, but that moment was long enough for him to see her hands shake as she grasped her purse more tightly.
The security desk clerk glanced up as they approached his station. “May I help you?”
Mary Jane moistened her lips. “I’m Mary Jane Brooks and I’m here for my sister, Rebecca.”
She did great until the end. Her voice warbled when she said her sister’s name.
The frown that claimed the security clerk’s expression put Shane on alert.
“Ms. Brooks, may I see some ID?”
That meant only one thing, there was definitely a connection here.
Mary Jane placed her driver’s license on the counter and waited while the man visually scrutinized the information and picture, assessing it against the woman waiting expectantly.
The clerk passed the license back to her and smiled. “Ms. Brooks, there’s a message for you. It’s been in holding for quite some time.”
Mary Jane’s heart started to pound. “A message?”
The gentleman behind the desk removed an envelope from someplace beneath the counter and passed it to her. “And this is your key and access card.” He placed both on the counter. “Fourteen-ten. You may take either elevator to the fourteenth floor.”
Her key and access card?
Mary Jane wanted to ask him what this meant, but right now she just needed to get to the condo he’d indicated and open this envelope.
She accepted the items. “Thank you.”
She felt Investigator Allen behind her as she made her way to the elevator. Speech was impossible at the moment. If she said a single word she would break down. The security guard didn’t need to witness that. He would have questions. Questions she couldn’t answer.
When the elevator doors had closed, providing much-needed privacy, she prepared to rip open the envelope.
A broad, male hand closed over hers. “Not here.”
Her eyes met his in question, and then she noticed the security camera. Of course. All public areas in a condominium high-rise this exclusive would be closely monitored.
She clutched the envelope and key to her chest and tried hard to relax. Her heart raced in spite of her best efforts, and her throat had gone furiously dry.
Why would her sister have purchased a luxury condo in her name? Rebecca made good money and had an enviable savings…but she wasn’t this well off. Was she?
How could Mary Jane not have known about this? What else about her sister did she not know?
The doors opened on the fourteenth floor, and Mary Jane took a deep breath before stepping out. The long corridor was lushly carpeted to muffle the sound of foot traffic. The walls were draped in something that resembled silk. The doors were wider than the average entry door and marked with brass numbers.
Mary Jane stopped in front of the one designated as 1410. She told herself to open the door. To go inside and to hope there would be something, a note, a recorded message—something—that would explain what this was about. But she felt paralyzed.
“Would you like me to go in first?”
She started at the sound of his voice. She’d been so lost in thought she’d completely forgotten he stood right behind her.
Before she could change her mind she thrust the key at him. “Yes. Please.”
Taking a step back, she watched as he, using his right hand, inserted the key and gave it a turn. Then, with his left he twisted the knob. The door opened and he went inside. Mary Jane stood at the threshold for a few seconds, five or ten, she couldn’t say for sure, before taking a step inside.
The front room was as grand as expected. A wall of glass overlooked the lake. Luxuriant carpet spilled across the floor of the empty space.
No, not completely empty. A small television with VCR sat on the counter of the built-in bookcases. As Investigator Allen moved through the rest of the condo, Mary Jane walked over to the television and turned it on. She couldn’t say why she did that. Maybe to fill the emptiness with noise…maybe instinct had driven her to do so. A light indicated a video cassette was in the player. She pressed the play button and stepped back to watch, her movements stiff, jerky, her fingers ice-cold and trembling. Maybe all the condos had such a setup to welcome new tenants.
The TV screen blurred, and then Rebecca’s image came into view. Mary Jane’s heart seemed to stall in her chest. Her legs gave way, forcing her to drop to her knees in the lush carpet. Tears bloomed on her lashes.
“Mary Jane.” The taped version of her sister smiled and appeared to gather her composure. “If you’re watching this tape then you’ve realized what the Park Place property card meant. I pray it’s you watching and not…” She cleared her throat and blinked repeatedly. “This place is for you. I know how hard you worked taking care of Mom and Dad and how much you gave up. So, this is my gift to you.”
Mary Jane reached out and touched the face on the screen. God, how she missed her family. She was alone. So alone. Those blasted tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Give up the lease on your apartment and sell the family home,” Rebecca’s recorded voice ordered. “Put the money in the bank and go back to school and do what you always wanted to do, get your master’s in social work. You deserve that opportunity.” Another pause as her sister visibly conquered her emotions. “If you can’t do it for you, then do it for me. Consider it my last request.”
Mary Jane’s breath caught. Her hands went to her throat. Rebecca had known that she likely wouldn’t survive. Why hadn’t she said something? Why hadn’t she let Mary Jane help?
Because their parents had needed Mary Jane. During those final months they had required constant care. Their father with his heart condition and their mother with her cancer. The two had died within weeks of each other.
“Now,” Rebecca’s message went on, “there’s one other issue.”
Mary Jane swiped the dampness from her cheeks and braced for the next revelation.
“If you’ve found this condo and this tape,” Rebecca began, “that means that you’re looking into what happened to me.” Her sister’s face tightened and all signs of vulnerability vanished. “Stop.”
Another sharp breath hissed into Mary Jane’s lungs.
“Stop this minute. If I’m dead, there is nothing, nothing, you can do to bring me back. Now, I know how you love trying to help people. Being the caretaker is your natural inclination. But this is different, MJ. Very different. Trying to solve whatever has happened could get you killed. So just stop. Let it go. Nothing you could do will matter. What’s done is done.”
Investigator Allen crouched next to Mary Jane. She couldn’t look at him, not with her face wet with tears. She was glad he kept silent, choosing to listen to what her sister had to say.
“Walk away from the past, Mary Jane,” Rebecca ordered. “Get on with your life. You’ve been taking care of everyone else your entire adult life. It’s your turn now. For goodness’ sakes, find a man and have sex! No one should die a virgin, and if you don’t do something that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
Humiliation heated Mary Jane’s cheeks. If her sister weren’t already dead, Mary Jane would definitely kill her! How could she say that? Giving her credit, Rebecca had likely expected her to be watching this alone.
The idea that this intense stranger was mere centimeters away sent the heat surging back in her cheeks.
“Have fun!” Rebecca commanded in that authoritative tone that had gotten her all the way to the top at Horizon Software. “Live every day like it’s
your last. Trust me, you’ll be sorry if you don’t.” Another pause as Rebecca struggled with her emotions. “Now, do as I say, little sister. I love you.”
The screen blurred as the recording lapsed into blank tape. Allen reached out and turned off the television. He stood and offered his hand to assist Mary Jane to her feet.
Swiping at her cheeks with the back of one hand, she reached for his with the other.
“Is there anything else I should know about?” She sniffed, and gathered her composure. He’d started exploring the condo the moment they arrived.
“Empty. Nice views. Large master suite. Cutting-edge kitchen. You’ll enjoy living here.” His lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “Your sister left you a nice gift.” He held up a set of keys. “And I’ve got a feeling these go to another gift that may be stashed in the garage.”
Dear God. Rebecca should not have done this. She must have liquidated all her assets. All her savings.
Because she had known she was going to die.
Mary Jane closed her eyes. How could she enjoy any of this, knowing how she came by it?
“I don’t think your sister would want you feeling guilty.”
Another big gulp of air. “So I’m just supposed to move on and forget about her?” Her gaze locked on those dark, dark eyes. Mary Jane shivered for the dozenth time in this man’s presence. From the roller-coaster emotion ride, she tried convincing herself once more. She shoved back the idea that her sister had announced her virginal status to anyone who might be listening. Except that she wasn’t a virgin…just a near virgin with barely enough experience to distinguish the difference.
Allen looked around the extravagant living space. “That’s up to you. But your sister was right about one thing.” His gaze settled on hers once more. “Continuing to dig around in what happened to her could get you killed. You’ve already been warned.”
The slashed tire. “That could have been some kid being stupid,” she argued.
“In that neighborhood? Maybe, but I don’t think so,” he countered.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know what I mean. It might not have anything to do with me or my sister.”
“I do understand what you mean,” he offered in a gentle voice that seemed strangely out of character for a man who rode a Harley. “But you need to understand this is not like the crime dramas on television. The good guys don’t always win. Your sister wanted to protect you. You could let her. My agency will conduct this investigation. We’ll provide you with a full report when we’re done. You have my word on that. There’s no need for you to be involved in the leg work.”
No need. Rebecca had been her sister. Of course there was a need for her involvement. To even think otherwise was absurd.
“I’m not changing my mind, Mr. Allen,” she warned. “I’m going to see this through. We had a deal. Don’t try wiggling out of it now.”
Shane knew when he’d hit the wall. The lady was determined. He could waste time continuing his attempts to dissuade her or he could get on with this investigation.
“All right.” He surveyed the view beyond the wall of glass. Lights flickered against the dark water. “Let’s take another look around here just to be sure we didn’t miss anything, and then we’ll go back to your place.”
“My place?”
The uncertainty in her voice brought his attention back to rest on her. “Is that a problem?”
She cleared her throat. “Ah…no. I suppose not.”
“I’d like to spend some time going over what you know of your sister’s movements those final weeks before her disappearance. Talking about it could jog your memory. The slightest detail might be the one that makes the difference.”
“Well…okay.”
With immediate plans out of the way, Shane took his time going over the condo. He checked every possible hiding place. Every carpet edge was secure, allowing nothing to be slipped beneath it. Each shelf and cabinet accessible and clear of obstruction. There was nothing else to find.
When he finished, Mary Jane still stood at the wall of windows, staring out at the night. “This is crazy,” she muttered as he moved up behind her. “Our lives weren’t supposed to turn out this way.”
No one’s ever was. Murder wasn’t something people factored into their future plans.
“Rebecca thought very highly of you,” he commented quietly, not wanting to stir up her emotions but needing to reaffirm what he hoped Mary Jane recognized. A person didn’t go to all this trouble for someone she didn’t care deeply about.
“I know.” Mary Jane’s sigh was long and weary. “I can’t help wondering if she knew just how much I loved and respected her.” She turned to face Shane. “We didn’t talk about it. Not since we were kids. Seems so wrong now.”
“Most people don’t,” he offered, knowing the words would be of little consequence against the walls of emotions no doubt closing in on her just then.
“If we could only know in advance that we were seeing or talking to someone for the last time, we could…”
“What?” he challenged. “Say all the things we really feel? Tidy up any loose ends? Unfortunately, nothing about life is ever that simple.” He knew from experience. Though he hadn’t lost anyone he loved, at least not through death. There were other kinds of painful loss, though. Like having the woman you loved cheat on you with your partner. The idea that she had stayed with him through his surgeries out of pity still tied his gut in knots. As soon as he had been well enough to live on his own, she had gone to her lover—his former partner.
But Shane had put that behind him ages ago. There was nothing left to debate in his personal life except visitation rights with Matt. And he would probably lose that battle. Still, he had to try. He owed the child and himself that much.
“Yes.” Mary Jane held her ground on the subject. “There were things I wanted to say to my sister. Things I should have said.”
Shane hitched a thumb in the direction of the television. “I think it’s pretty obvious she knew you loved her.”
Mary Jane closed her eyes and her posture wilted a little. She was tired. Emotionally drained. The best thing he could do for her right now was to get her home. Maybe the questions could wait until tomorrow.
“We should get out of here.” He crossed to the television. “I’m going to take this tape. I don’t think much can be gained from an analysis.” He pressed Eject, and the tape slid out of the slot. “But it may prove useful.” He pocketed the cassette and gestured to the door. “If there’s nothing else you want to take a look at here, we can be on our way.”
As they left the building, Shane noticed a different security clerk had come on duty. He called a good-evening to them as they crossed the expansive lobby.
Shane was reasonably sure he couldn’t ever get used to living like this. Close supervision. Exclusivity to the point of fear since the rich, real or make-believe, were ready targets. The address alone was motivation for thugs looking to make fast cash. With electronic gadgets a dime a dozen on the streets, lowlifes were no longer deterred by tight security. To the contrary—they saw the job as a challenge.
Just to make sure they didn’t overlook anything, he and Mary Jane visited the garage and checked out the pricey SUV Rebecca had purchased and left as a part of her gift. No notes, no recordings this time. Just a nice set of wheels that still had the showroom smell.
Outside, Shane walked all the way around Mary Jane’s sedan and found no more slashed tires or indications of foul play. Then he said, “I’ll follow you home.”
He pulled on his helmet and gloves and slung one leg over the seat of his ride. When she eased away from the curb, he fell in behind her.
The route she chose took them to the west side. Not really a bad neighborhood, just a little on the low rent side of the housing market. A far cry from the Lakeshore condo they’d visited.
She parked on the street. He had to drive past her selected parking spot to find something. She waited near h
er car for him to secure his bike and helmet.
As he approached, she pointed to her building and said, “Third floor.”
The front entrance was not secured. Anyone could walk in. She paused long enough to remove a large wad of mail from her box. Judging by the bulk of it she hadn’t checked it in a while. Seemed strange that a woman who gave off such “organized” vibes would allow her mail to pile up like that.
As if sensing his conclusion, she remarked, “I’ve been packing things up at my parents’ place. I come home so late at night that I’m usually too exhausted to care about the mail.”
Understandable. He let her set the pace as they climbed the three sets of stairs. The fatigue had long ago made its appearance in her posture.
While she dug for her keys at the door, he surveyed the frame around it for any signs of forced entry. Nothing suspicious caught his eye.
“I’ll go first, if that’s okay,” he suggested. He wasn’t taking any chances with her safety.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He flipped on a light as he entered the apartment. Small, neat. Carpet that had seen better days, well-used sofa and chair. The bookshelves were running over with books, and he didn’t see the first sign of a television. Cream-colored walls loaded with framed photos. The furnishings and decorating leaned toward earthy, which didn’t surprise him. Brown sofa, couple of green throw pillows. Curtains were a paler green and puddled on the floor at each end of the one window that looked out over downtown in the distance. He imagined in the spring and summer that the heavy coat of leaves on the trees would block the view of city lights she enjoyed in the winter.
She dumped the mail on the counter that separated the living room from the tiny kitchen. “Would you like coffee or tea?”
“Coffee would be good.” He could use the heat as well as the caffeine.
While she prepared the brew, he studied the many photos of her and her family. Lots and lots of snapshots of her and her sister as kids. Not so many as adults. He backed up to the last photo he’d scrutinized. Something about it seemed wrong. The picture was crooked. He took the frame off the wall and turned it over. Whoever had put it together had slapped it into place, leaving the assembly cockeyed.
