Mirror Me

by Stephanie Tyler

  “Not the time, Diane,” he warned.

  “It’s exactly the time. She’s a killer.” Diane’s eyes blazed judgment that branded Kayla’s skin as effectively as a hot poker. “Penny’s dead because of her.”

  “She’s going to kill you,” Kayla told Diane steadily.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  Kayla couldn’t help it—she laughed at the absurdity of it. “You’ll know when I am. Right now, I’m trying to save your life.”

  “Mara said that’s what you’d say.” Diane looked strangely satisfied, then she pointed at Kayla while staring hard at Teige. “You’ve been fucking a killer.”

  Teige took a step toward Diane, took her shoulders and shook her a little. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “I want Kayla arrested. There’s proof she killed Penny!” Diane screamed at him.

  “Circumstantial at best,” Jacoby said firmly. “She’ll be under surveillance. As will you.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Diane,” Teige warned her.

  “Don’t worry—I don’t fuck killers.”

  Teige stared at her, then told her, “Yeah, you have, babe. For a long time now.”

  Diane just stared at him, her mouth opened in a silent O.

  “Not another fucking word,” he continued for good measure, his tone vicious. Even though Diane had put herself in major danger, at the moment, she wasn’t his main concern. At that point, Teige told Kayla, “Stay here.” And then he picked Diane up and carried her out to the porch.

  Diane fought him tooth and nail. “Put me down, dammit.” And when he complied, still holding her wrist so she couldn’t go back in and talk to Kayla, she said, “You need to believe me.”

  “Then tell me the exact conversation.”

  Diane spoke rapidly. “She told me all about Kayla—how she’s Claire. She made me go to the computer and Google the case. She waited. She let me ask questions. At the time I didn’t know she had Penny. And then I told Mara that I believed her…that Claire had attacked me. And then Mara explained that she’d told Penny everything Kayla did. That Penny said she didn’t know anything, that she didn’t believe.” She swallowed hard. “She asked me if I believed her and I told her I did. That’s when I heard Penny screaming and then it was so quiet. She said she let me listen because I believed. That I could stay alive because I understood. And then she told me to go confront Claire.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Because Diane hated Kayla, her life might end up being spared. A vicious irony, at best. “Did you give Mara Kayla’s address?”

  Diane shook her head. “No. She didn’t ask. I was pretty damned freaked out so I wasn’t speaking much.”

  Teige wanted to believe her, but in the end it didn’t matter much either way. Mara knew where Kayla lived—she could’ve easily shown up there instead of simply mailing a letter. But before Teige could question Diane further, Jacoby came out onto the back porch, his eyes directed toward Diane. “Want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing bringing a cop here?”

  “Because Kayla’s a killer. Because I heard Penny being killed.” Diane wrung her hands together. Her eyes were swollen and she wore a wild, scared look he’d never seen before on her face.

  “You heard Penny being killed by Kayla?”

  “By Mara. Penny’s dead. I know she is.”

  “It’d be convenient if she told you where to find the body,” Jacoby commented in a completely serious tone. Diane moved to slap him, her patented move, but Jacoby was faster, grabbing her wrist, obviously used to women trying to slap him. “I want you to calm the fuck down and give me a statement. Every goddamned thing you remember.” He glanced at the officer. “Tape this.”

  “There’s a message on machine too,” she said dully.

  “Keys,” he said, and Diane handed him the ring she’d been holding. He pointed to a plainclothes who’d just walked into the house. “Get me the machine.”

  The plainclothes nodded, caught the keys Jacoby threw at him and left without question.

  *

  “Kayla, don’t listen to Diane,” Abby was telling her.

  Kayla shrugged. “She’s just saying what everyone feels.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “Do you think the news will find out soon?”

  “Jacoby will find out who Diane told. We’ll control the press since it’s an active investigation. That means Diane goes into protection and the cops shut their mouths,” Abby promised, just as the doctor she’d brought along came in with a shot.

  “It’s for your voice,” he said. “It won’t knock you out.”

  Kayla allowed the shot, since she’d nearly screamed her voice away. When she tried to speak, it was scratchy, raw and painful-sounding. She’d screamed so loudly he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d damaged her voice permanently. The doctor had confirmed as much when she’d asked him earlier, but it was the least of her worries.

  And then one of the police detectives came in, that bloody picture bagged and in his hands. Before he could say anything, Abby asked her, “Kayla, are you sure this isn’t you in the picture?”

  Kayla shook her head hard. “It’s not me. I know it’s hard for everyone to understand, but even though we might look identical, I can separate me and Mara in pictures.”

  Abby blew out a hard breath then showed her badge to the detective. “That’s her statement. I’m the marshal in charge of her case. Kayla was in my care during the time of the murder. She didn’t leave the state.”

  “The picture shows otherwise,” the detective pointed out.

  Kayla couldn’t help but think that she had left the state…that she’d been away from Abby and Teige for long enough to commit a murder. And depending on where Penny’s body was discovered, Abby had just perjured herself for Kayla. But all Kayla said in a hollow tone was, “The fingerprints on the envelope won’t match mine. The fingerprints at the crime scene won’t match mine. They never do.”

  It was always her only out. But Mara was getting better and better.

  “Still, we have to ask questions.” The detective put down a plastic bag in front of her. Inside were pieces of a picture—it was of Penny, ripped up, her eyes blacked out by a pen. “We found this inside your house in your desk—we were given permission to search it by Agent Daniels.”

  Abby nodded, but clenched her fists at the look of devastation on Kayla’s face.

  “I didn’t mean…I was angry. Not at her—she was my first friend here. I called you and you yelled at me and…” She stared at Abby for a second then put her face into her palms. When she spoke again, it was muffled. “You can’t believe I did this. I wasn’t here.”

  “She was driving in the opposite direction,” Abby confirmed. “There was no way she could’ve committed the murder.”

  “But she could’ve asked her sister to do it for her. Isn’t that what you’re accused of, Kayla?”

  “Never proven. Because it’s not true,” she protested, allowing the fire to come back into her. Anything was better than feeling defeated, which she refused to be. She was innocent and Abby and Teige believed her.

  “She’s under my protection.”

  “This is an open investigation…”

  “Her protected status trumps that,” Abby said evenly. “I’ll make sure she’s available for questioning by the FBI since this is their case.”

  The detective scowled. “This is my town. I won’t be cut off from this investigation,” he warned, but he did leave the room, taking the evidence with him.

  “Please hand the evidence to my colleague on your way out,” Abby called. She turned back to Kayla, handed her some tissues and forced her to sit. She had her drink some more of the honeyed tea, then asked point-blank, “Was Hoss in love with you?”

  “No more beating around the bush, Marshal Daniels?”

  “No,” Abby agreed.

  “I think so. Yes. We were close, at first. He didn’t try anything but if I’d made a move…”

  “He w
ould’ve welcomed it,” Abby finished.

  “At first, yes. But I wasn’t ready. And when I was, well, he seemed disinterested by that point. I thought it was odd but…” Kayla’s eyes went wide. “Mara. Do you think Mara…”

  “It’s the only way I can think of. Either Mara pretended to be you that last night…or she somehow convinced him of her innocence.”

  “And my guilt,” Kayla muttered. “You think they were talking? That they planned to meet?”

  “I think she killed Hoss to send you the message that she can get to you at every turn.”

  “So why didn’t she? Get to me, I mean,” Kayla clarified. “I’m still breathing. She could’ve come right to me. She could’ve been waiting when I found Hoss. It would’ve been over in seconds. Unless it’s true, what Jacoby said, that Mara gets more pleasure from me being alive and ‘paying’ for my supposed crimes than she ever would killing me. Either way, how does she keep finding me? Tracking me? Is she having an affair with you?”

  Abby smiled a little. “Not my thing. And I’m not sure she could fool me. But maybe we should have some kind of code when we see each other. That way, if I do run across Mara, I’ll know the difference.”

  Kayla nodded. “It’s the eyes, Abby. The eyes will give Mara away every single time.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Abby touched her shoulder. “What else can I do for you now?”

  “I just feel helpless. Will I ever not feel that way?” Kayla practically demanded.

  “It takes work. And you’ll never let it go completely, but you’ll have hours, and then days where you don’t think about it at all,” Abby told her firmly.

  Kayla nodded. “You’ve been through hell. I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t be. This is my job—I chose it. No one forced it on me.”

  “Teige said you felt it was your destiny.”

  “It’s as close as I could get to monsters without drowning in them.” Abby brushed some hair from Kayla’s face, then brought the mug up to her lips. When Kayla went to protest that she could do it herself, she realized just how badly her hands shook.

  She’d heard Abby refuse the pain meds on her behalf, probably because Teige told her how much she hated them. “Thanks,” and then, “I’m sorry about your father.”

  “It was a horrible way to die,” Abby said hoarsely. “It was also horrible the way my father lived. Hunting monsters. Getting in their heads. How do you not become one.”

  “Was he?” Kayla asked.

  “In the end, I think so. He was breaking down. Drinking. He didn’t abuse us—not consciously, anyway. But he talked about that case with us.”

  “My God, Abby.”

  “He thought we should’ve been able to handle it. We were sixteen and seventeen when he told us everything about this guy. I think he was trying to keep us safe, like he knew he’d come after us.”

  And he had. She and Abby and Teige had so much more in common than she ever could’ve thought.

  *

  For several long moments, Teige and Jacoby stood there side by side, staring into the mess of woods behind the house.

  Finally, Jacoby narrowed his eyes and turned to Teige. “Tell me about Diane.”

  “What about her?”

  “The nature of your relationship.”

  “Fucking,” Teige offered bluntly.

  “On your end or hers?”

  Teige sighed. “Both. She’s possessive, but she doesn’t want a relationship. Just doesn’t want me with anyone else.”

  “Classic,” Jacoby muttered. “She jealous enough to frame Kayla?”

  “Yes,” Teige said firmly but then added, “Is she smart enough? Yes. But this kind of thing? Not her speed at all.”

  “They got into a physical fight,” Jacoby reminded him.

  “Kayla punched her first,” Teige pointed out. “Listen, Diane isn’t going to murder someone to frame Kayla. Why Diane’s return address was on the envelope, I have no idea.”

  “Her prints were on it too,” Jacoby told him. Teige just shook his head. “Do you think Diane really spoke with Mara?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Because you can tell when she’s lying?”

  “With Diane, almost every time she opens her mouth, she’s lying,” Teige said bluntly.

  “Fucking shouldn’t be that complicated.”

  “You haven’t been laid in a long time or what?”

  Jacoby snorted. “Touché, man.” After a pause, he added, “No sign of Penny. Boyfriend’s flipped out.”

  Teige winced. John was a good guy—a good soldier. He’d heard that name bandied around as a candidate for Delta Force. If he went in after this incident, Teige had no doubt he’d be a machine. And he didn’t know if that was good or bad…for John and for the teams. Anger, channeled correctly, could be an amazing tool or a detriment. “What about Kayla?”

  “She stays here.” Jacoby checked his phone. “Diane’s already back home. It’s being searched, phone lines checked and tapped. She’s not leaving the premises. We don’t need her shooting her mouth off about a killing.”

  Teige agreed. Mara was getting closer. If they wanted Mara to come into town, they couldn’t make it more difficult for her. “So who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m a US Marshal,” Jacoby answered calmly.

  Teige didn’t bother to push it. He got undercover. Stealth. But still, “Don’t fuck my sister over, because then we’ll have a problem.”

  Jacoby nodded. In silent agreement, they went inside to find the FBI had escaped the confines of the kitchen and were milling around the hallway, with two of them in deep discussion. When they saw Jacoby and Teige, one of them said, “The FBI will stay on point with the marshals for Kayla. Plainclothes will patrol the surrounding streets.”

  Jacoby shook his head. “You’ll stick out like sore thumbs. Trust me, there’s no good way to have any of you here.”

  The agent glared, but Teige noticed he didn’t argue. Jacoby definitely had some power. Either he was older than he appeared or he was some kind of wunderkind.

  The harder Teige looked, the more haunted Jacoby seemed.

  Haunted and hunting killers went hand in hand. He wanted to tell Jacoby to get out now, before it got worse, to walk away from all this and never look back.

  But then Abby and Kayla would be left hanging and that’s why Jacoby stayed. That’s why Teige’s dad had stayed, because there was always someone to save. And Teige was sure they both promised themselves this is the last time…every single time.

  “We can handle this,” Jacoby said.

  Teige didn’t ask who the we was.

  “I want to tell her to come to me.” Kayla’s words, spoken from where she stood in the back room’s doorway. She’d snuck up on both of them, which wasn’t easy to do.

  “Forget it,” Teige told her. Kayla ignored him, probably seeing the look of possibility on Jacoby’s face. Teige narrowed his eyes as she approached them.

  “Jacoby, you and I and Teige all know it’s the best way. The only way.”

  “The best way to get yourself killed,” Teige broke in. “I won’t allow it.”

  “Won’t allow it?” Kayla repeated with a fire in her eyes that made Teige hot in so many ways. “I need to do this. Otherwise, I’ll never be free.”

  Teige hadn’t asked her how she’d feel if he killed Mara…because that was his plan. “You’ll kill her, Kayla? Because that’s exactly what you’d need to do before she gets the upper hand. No hesitating. And I know how much guilt you feel.”

  She tensed at Teige’s words.

  Teige got closer. “You’re not ready. I never want you to have to be ready for that.”

  “But I can defend myself. You said I need to know self-defense,” she practically whispered.

  “That’s so different, babe. A whole different world.”

  Jacoby broke in. “Kayla, I’ll let you do whatever you feel you need to. But Teige’s right. Self-defense is nothing like lying in wait, kn
owing you’re going to kill. It’s what separates you from her. I hope you find that comforting.”

  “She’s the only family I have. The only link to my memories,” Kayla told him. “Do you know how sick it makes me feel to say that? To think, I hope she doesn’t die so I can see her again? Crazy, right?”

  Jacoby gave a quick shake of his head. “Not really. She wants the same exact thing. Doesn’t mean she won’t make it hurt like hell, though.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jacoby paged through a small notebook. “There are now ten murders attached to Mara, including her adoptive parents, that we know of. And if we find Penny…” He shook his head.

  “Right.” For every murder you see, there are two more you don’t—that was her father’s theory. It didn’t always pan out, mainly because there were always undiscovered bodies, and most serial killers either over-bragged and overestimated themselves or they played it close to the vest so they’d continue having people interested in them. That’s what serial killers wanted—attention. Lots of it. If they couldn’t keep killing, then they’d find a way to relive their kills. And they weren’t about to be either humble or gracious. “I can’t imagine…to have your own family wanting to do you harm. It’s one thing if it’s a total stranger, but family’s so much harder…”

  “You won’t get an argument from me,” Jacoby agreed, but didn’t offer any more. Neither did she. Most agents—and marshals—had fucked up pasts. It was why she’d fit in, felt comfortable despite what she’d been through. Despite her limitations.

  But the one thing she did know was that Jacoby might be new to her, but he wasn’t new to any of this. However unassuming and understated he acted, he knew the score. And he knew this case like the back of his hand. And he knew about Abby’s past as well as Kayla’s.

  And we’re both haunted by the ghosts of our pasts…

  The only problem was, Mara wasn’t a ghost. And Abby had to stop putting herself in Kayla’s place. She needed to rebrand herself as a protector. Because she’d fought like hell for this job, convinced her sup that she could do it. And dammit, she would.

  For Hoss. Because her father had mentored Hoss, despite their difference in agencies and positions. Hoss was her father’s go-to guy when he had witnesses who needed protection from the monsters, and Hoss always came though. It became the link in the chain that held Abby, who wanted a career in law enforcement and her father, FBI legend Ryan Daniels, together with Hoss.