by Karen Rose
The mask covering her face moved and he imagined her wry smile. He’d always liked Felicity Berg, even though she was called “The Iceberg” by most of the men. He’d never seen her as cold, just… careful. There was a difference, as Daniel well knew.
“I can’t definitively identify her. She was about twenty. She had no blood alcohol, and doesn’t have any obvious diseases or defects. Cause of death was asphyxia.”
“And the blows to her face? Where they pre- or postmortem?”
“Post. As was this bruising around her mouth.” She pointed to four fingertip-sized bruises.
Daniel frowned. “Wouldn’t those bruises be from the hand that killed her?”
Her brows lifted. “That’s what he wanted you to think. Remember the fibers I pointed out in her lungs and in the lining of her cheeks?”
“Cotton,” Daniel said. “From the handkerchief he shoved in her mouth.”
“Exactly. I’m guessing he didn’t want any of his own DNA in her teeth in the event she bit him. There are bruises on her nose that were put there before she was dead, you just can’t see them because of the beating. But after she was dead, somebody’s fingers were pressed to the side of her mouth. The distance between the finger bruises indicates it was a man’s hand, small in size. He went to considerable trouble to make this happen, Daniel. He was careful when hitting her face to leave this area around her mouth untouched. It’s almost like he wanted the finger bruises to show.”
“I wonder if Alicia Tremaine had finger bruising around her mouth.”
“That’s for you to find out. I can tell you this woman’s last meal was Italian, with sausage, pasta, and some kind of hard cheese.”
“Only about a million Italian restaurants in the city,” he said glumly.
She picked up the woman’s left hand. “She has thick calluses on her fingertips.”
Daniel leaned closer to see. “She played a musical instrument. Violin maybe?”
“Or something in the string family, something with a bow, I think. The other hand is soft, no calluses, so it’s probably not a harp or a guitar.”
“Was that the good news?”
Her eyes glinted in mild amusement. “No. The good news is that even if I can’t tell you who she was, I think I can tell you where she’d been twenty-four hours before she was killed. Come here, to this side of the table.” Felicity ran a black light wand over the victim’s hand, revealing the remnants of a fluorescent stamp.
He looked up and met Felicity’s satisfied eyes. “She’d been to Fun-N-Sun,” he said. The amusement park stamped the hands of anyone leaving and planning to return the same day. “They get thousands of visitors every day, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Felicity placed the woman’s arm at her side with gentle care and respect, elevating her in Daniel’s regard. “Or maybe someone will finally miss her,” she said quietly.
“Dr. Berg?” One of her assistant’s came into the room, carrying a sheet of paper. “This woman’s urine tox came back positive for flunitrazepam, one hundred micrograms.”
Daniel frowned. “Rohypnol? He used a date-rape drug? That’s not a lethal dose, is it?”
“That’s not even enough to knock her out. It’s barely enough to show up on the test. Jackie, can you run the test again? If I get called before a grand jury, I’m going to want a verification of your results. No offense.”
Unperturbed, Jackie nodded. “None taken. I’ll do it right now.”
“He wanted us to find the drug, but he didn’t want her completely incapacitated,” Daniel mused. “He wanted her awake and aware.”
“And he knows his pharmacology. It wouldn’t have been simple to achieve that low level of flunitrazepam. Again, he went to some trouble.”
“So the presence of Rohypnol is one more thing I need to check on the murder of Alicia Tremaine. I need to get that police report.” And so far, Dutton Sheriff Frank Loomis still hadn’t called him back. So much for professional courtesy. Daniel was going to Dutton to get that report in person. “Thanks, Felicity. As always, it’s been fun.”
“Daniel.” Felicity had stepped back from the body and was pulling off her mask. “I wanted to tell you that I was sorry to hear about your parents.”
Daniel drew a breath. “Thank you.”
“I wanted to go to the funeral, but…” A self-deprecating smile bent her lips. “I got to the church, but I couldn’t go inside. Funerals make me queasy. Believe it or not.”
He smiled at her. “I believe you, Felicity. And I thank you for trying.”
She nodded briskly. “I had Malcolm request the autopsy report on Alicia Tremaine after Miss Fallon left. When we get it, I’ll let you know.”
“Again, I appreciate it.” And as he walked away, he felt her watch him go.
Atlanta , Monday, January 29, 1:15 p.m.
When Daniel got back to his office, Luke was sitting in one of his chairs, a laptop in his lap and his feet up on Daniel’s desk. He looked up, studied Daniel’s face, then shrugged. “You’re making it damn hard for me to lie to my mama, Daniel. I can tell her you’re all right all I want, but those dark circles under your eyes tell a different tale.”
Daniel hung his jacket behind his door. “Don’t you have a job?”
“Hey, I’m working.” Luke held up the laptop. “I’m running a diagnostic on the chief’s machine. It’s been running ‘buggy.’ ” He quirked the air with his fingers, a smile on his face, but Daniel heard the tension in his friend’s voice.
He sat at his desk and did some studying of his own. There were no dark circles under Luke’s eyes, but within them was a bleakness few got to see. “Bad day?”
Luke’s smile disappeared, and closing his eyes, he swallowed audibly. “Yeah.” The single word was harsh and filled with a pain few truly understood. Luke was on the GBI’s task force against Internet crime, and for the last year he’d been focused on crime involving children. Daniel thought he’d rather watch a thousand autopsies than look at the obscenities Luke was forced to view every day. Luke drew a breath and opened his eyes, control restored even if serenity was not.
Daniel wondered if any cop ever got to serenity.
“I needed a break,” Luke said simply, and Daniel nodded.
“I just came from the morgue. My Jane Doe went to Fun-N-Sun on Thursday and plays the violin.”
“Well, the violin might narrow it down some. I brought you something.” Luke pulled a thick stack of papers from his computer bag. “I ran a deeper search on Alicia Tremaine and came up with all these articles. She had a twin sister.”
“I know,” Daniel said wryly. “Too bad you didn’t tell me before she walked in here this morning and scared the ever-livin’ shit outta me.”
Luke’s dark brows shot up. “She was here? Alexandra Tremaine?”
“She calls herself Fallon now. Alex Fallon. She’s an ER nurse from Cincinnati.”
“So she lived then,” Luke said thoughtfully and Daniel frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Luke handed the stack of papers over the table. “Well, the story didn’t stop with Alicia’s murder. The day Alicia’s body was found, Kathy Tremaine, that’s their mother, shot herself in the head. She was apparently discovered by her daughter Alexandra, who then took all the pills the doctor had prescribed for the mother, who was hysterical after having to identify her daughter’s body.”
Daniel thought of Jane Doe on the table at the morgue and of a mother having to identify her child looking like that. Still, suicide was the coward’s way out… and for Alex to have discovered her that way. “My God,” he murmured.
“Kathy Tremaine’s sister had come down from Ohio because of Alicia and discovered them both. Her name was Kim Fallon.”
“Alex said she’d been adopted by her aunt and uncle, so that makes sense.”
“There’s more in the stack, obits and articles about the trial of Gary Fulmore, the man they charged with the murder. But there was no other mention of Alexandra
after the article on Fulmore’s arrest. I guess Kim Fallon took her to Ohio after that.”
Daniel leafed through the pages. “Did you see mention of a Bailey Crighton?”
“Craig Crighton, yes, but not Bailey. Craig was the man Kathy Tremaine was living with at the time of her death. Why?”
“That’s why Alex Fallon came to see me today. Her stepsister Bailey went missing Thursday night and she thought she was the Arcadia woman.”
Luke whistled softly. “Well, that had to have been a shock.”
Daniel thought of the fists she’d squeezed nearly bloodless, and the way her hand felt in his. “I imagine it was, but she held herself together well.”
“I was actually talking about it being a shock for you.” Luke swung his feet off the desk and stood up. “I’ve got to be getting back now. Break’s over.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes. “You gonna be okay?”
Luke nodded. “Sure.” But there was little conviction in his voice. “I’ll see you later.”
Daniel lifted the papers. “Thanks, Luke.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Ripples, Daniel thought as he watched him go. They changed the lives of the victims and their families. And sometimes they change us. Usually they change us. With a sigh he turned to his own computer to look up the number for Fun-N-Sun. He had a victim to identify.
Dutton, Monday, January 29, 1:00 p.m.
“Here’s all the stuff.” Alex dumped it on the sofa in her hotel room. “Play-Doh, Legos, Mr. Potato Head, more crayons, paper, and more coloring books.”
Meredith was sitting next to Hope at the little dinette table. “And the Barbie head?”
“In the bag, but they were out of Barbies. You got Princess Fiona from Shrek.”
“But she has hair we can cut? I’m thinking since Bailey was a hairdresser they might have played that way together.”
“Yep. I checked. And I got Hope some clothes. Man, kids’ clothes are expensive.”
“Get used to it, Auntie.”
“You moved her from the desk in the bedroom.”
“Had to. Wasn’t room for both of us to color in there and I needed a change in scenery.” Meredith chose a blue crayon from a pile. “Hope, I’m picking periwinkle this time. Periwinkle sounds like a happy color, like it’s winking at me.”
Meredith continued to chatter as she colored and Alex could see this had been going on for some time while she’d been gone. There was a stack of pages with ragged edges that Meredith had torn from Hope’s coloring book. All were colored with blue.
“Can we talk while you color?”
Meredith smiled. “Sure. Or you can sit down and color with us. Hope and I don’t mind, do we, Hope?”
Hope didn’t appear to even hear her. Alex dragged the chair from the bedroom desk up to the dinette and sat down, meeting Meredith’s eyes over Hope’s head. “Anything?”
“Nope,” Meredith said cheerfully. “There are no magic wands, Alex.”
Hope’s hand stopped abruptly, still clutching the red crayon in her small fist. She kept her eyes on the coloring book, but she’d gone completely still. Alex opened her mouth, but Meredith shot her a warning glance and Alex remained silent.
“At least not in that sack from the store,” Meredith went on. “I like magic wands.” Hope didn’t move a muscle. “When I was little, I used to pretend celery stalks were magic wands. My mom would get so mad when she’d go to make a salad and all the celery was gone.” Meredith chuckled and kept coloring with her periwinkle. “She’d fuss, but she’d play with me. Celery was cheap, she’d say, but playtime was precious.”
Alex swallowed hard. “My mom used to say that, too. ‘Playtime is precious.’ ”
“Probably because our moms were sisters. Did your mom say that, too, Hope?”
Slowly, Hope’s crayon began to move again, then faster, until she colored with the same focus as before. Alex wanted to sigh, but Meredith was smiling.
“Baby steps,” she murmured. “Sometimes the best therapy’s just in being there, Alex.” She tore a page from her coloring book. “Try it. It’s really very relaxing.”
Alex drew a deep breath, steadying herself. “You did that for me. Sat with me, when I first came to live with you. Every day after school and all that summer. You’d just come into my room and read a book. You never said a word.”
“I didn’t know what to say,” Meredith said. “But you were sad and you seemed happier when I sat with you. Then one day you said, ‘Hi.’ It was days later before you said any more and weeks before you were carrying on any conversation at all.”
“I think you saved my life,” Alex murmured. “You and Kim and Steve.” The Fallons had been her salvation. “I miss them.” Her aunt and uncle had died the year before when Steve’s little plane had crashed into an Ohio cornfield.
Meredith’s hand faltered and her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “I miss them, too.” She rested her cheek on Hope’s pretty curls for a brief moment. “That’s a very nice caterpillar, Hope. I’m going to use the periwinkle on the butterfly.” She chattered on for another few minutes, then casually turned the topic. “I would love to see some butterflies. Did you find a park where we can take Hope, Alex?”
“Yes, there’s a park not too far from the elementary school. I picked up one of those real estate booklets when I was out. There’s a furnished house near the park that we might rent for a while.” Until I find Bailey, she added silently.
Meredith nodded. “Got it. Oh, and you know what? When we go to the park we can play Simon Says.” Her auburn brows lifted meaningfully. “I found instructions online. You’ll find them fascinating. I left the page open on my laptop. It’s in the bedroom.”
Alex stood up, her heart tripping. “I’ll go check.” She’d called Meredith right back after Captain-Reverend Beardsley had driven away, and relayed the conversation, especially the line, “I’ll see you in hell, Simon.” Apparently Meredith had done some searching while Alex had bought out the toy section of the local Wal-Mart so that Meredith could do play therapy with Hope.
Alex clicked the page Meredith had been reading and sucked in a startled breath as her memories began to fall into place. Simon Vartanian.
Vartanian. Daniel’s name had been naggingly familiar, but she’d been too worried about Bailey to dwell on it at the time. Then, waiting to view that woman’s body… he’d held her hand and she’d felt an awareness that had heated her from the inside out. But there had been more. A closeness, a kinship, a… comfort, as if she’d known him before. Maybe she had.
Vartanian. She remembered the family now, vaguely. They’d been rich. The dad was important. He’d been a judge. She remembered Simon, also vaguely. He’d been a big, hulking, frightening boy. Simon had been in Wade’s class at school.
She sat down to read the article, immediately engrossed in a story so evil… Simon Vartanian had died just one week ago after murdering his parents and a lot of other people. Simon had been killed in Philadelphia by a detective named Vito Ciccotelli.
Simon was survived by his sister Susannah Vartanian. I remember her. She’d been a cultured girl in expensive clothes. Susannah had been her age, but had gone to the expensive private school. She was now an ADA in New York.
Alex released the breath she held in a slow hiss. Simon was also survived by his brother, Daniel Vartanian, a special agent with the GBI. Alex replayed in her mind the moment they’d met, the utter shock on Daniel’s face. He’d known about Alicia and Alex had attributed his shock to that only. But now… I’ll see you in hell, Simon.
She pressed her knuckles into her lips, staring at the picture of Simon Vartanian on Meredith’s screen. There was some small resemblance between the brothers. Both had the same body type, tall and broad, and they shared the same piercing look around the eyes. But Simon had a harsh look to him while Daniel had looked… sad. Weary and very sad. His parents had been murdered, so that explained the sadness, but what explained his shock at seeing her fac
e? What did Daniel Vartanian know?
I’ll see you in hell. What had Simon done? Alex could read what he’d done recently-and it had been inhuman. But what did he do back then?
And what had Wade done? I know what he did to me… but what did he do with Simon? What was Wade’s connection to Simon Vartanian? And what did it have to do with Bailey? And Alicia? And what about the poor woman they’d found in the ditch yesterday evening, killed just like Alicia? Could Wade have…?
Alex’s pulse began to pound in her ears and it was suddenly as if all the air were sucked from the room. Calm. Focus on the quiet. Slowly she began to breathe again, to think rationally again. Alicia’s murderer was rotting in jail, where he belonged. And Wade… no. Not murder. No. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t that.
What she did know was that she was meeting Special Agent Daniel Vartanian tonight and he would tell her what he knew. Until then, she had things to do.
Atlanta , Monday, January 29, 2:15 p.m.
Daniel looked up from his computer when Ed Randall came into his office looking generally disgusted. “Hey, Ed, what do you know?”
“That this guy was careful. We haven’t found so much as a hair so far. We took mud from around the entrance to the storm sewer and we’re checking it in the lab now. If he came down from the road by the storm sewer, maybe he dropped something.”
“What about the brown blanket?” Daniel asked.
“The labels have both been cut away,” Ed said. “We’re trying to match the fabric to manufacturers. We might get lucky and trace it to a point of purchase. Are we any closer to an ID on the victim?”
“Yeah, actually. Felicity also found a stamp on the victim’s hand from Fun-N-Sun.”
“So you get a trip to the amusement park and I get to play in the mud. No fair.”
Daniel smiled. “I don’t think I need to go down to the park. I spent most of the afternoon on the phone with their security. They were able to patch me into their network so that I could view their security tapes from my desk.”
Ed looked impressed. “Ain’t technology grand. And?”
