Obsession

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Obsession Page 18

by Traci Hunter Abramson


  “You are pretty good at those.” Kendra smiled, and Charlie’s mind immediately flashed back to the first time he’d met her and insisted on carrying her over the snow. She stared at him for a moment and then nodded at the hall. “I think I’ll go change into some workout clothes and put your efforts to good use.”

  Charlie watched her disappear down the hall and then turned to face Ray. “You said you had an update for me?”

  Ray nodded. “Jed Burgess’s story checks out as far as we can tell. He did attend award shows repeatedly over the past five years.”

  “And the award shows correspond with the murders?”

  “Five of them, but the O’Riley murder was committed in December, and there weren’t any events of significance around that one, at least nothing we could identify,” he told Charlie. “I guess it would have been too easy to finally figure out what events were triggering the murders.”

  “I think we still have to consider that as a possible trigger though,” Charlie said. “When were the five murders committed in relation to the award shows?”

  “The time of death is a little sketchy on the first two murders because the bodies weren’t found right away, but from the coroner reports, all of them looked like they happened within a day or two of the shows. For three of them, the time of death was within twenty-four hours after the award shows ended,” Ray said. “Including Joslyn Korden. We were able to verify that she did attend the Grammys.”

  “That’s too big a coincidence to ignore,” Charlie insisted, considering. “You know, maybe it isn’t the award shows that are the trigger. It could be that they are just a way for our guy to find women who are easy prey, at least for those first four.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it,” Charlie said, his mind whirring. “All the victims were dressed in formal attire. He might be preying on women who attended the award shows because they gave him easy access to the kind of woman he has built his fantasies around.”

  “Besides Joslyn, there was one other victim who was an attendee of the Grammys right before she disappeared, but nothing like that popped up in the other women’s files.”

  “But the others could have been seat fillers just like Jed Burgess. It’s possible that that information was overlooked or wasn’t considered important when the local police did the initial investigations,” Charlie said, realizing that he was making a stretch, especially when he added, “The one that doesn’t fit could be a case of a woman being dressed up for another event but was unlucky enough to catch our killer’s attention.”

  “The timing doesn’t work for Kendra either. There aren’t any shows coming up anytime soon,” Ray told him. “The next one is still a couple of months away.”

  “I wonder if that explosion backstage at Kendra’s concert really was related to all of this,” Charlie said. “Could someone else have been the target?”

  “The LA office said they’re still considering all possibilities, but the MO is the same as the one that occurred before Joslyn Korden’s murder.”

  “What’s the status on DeFoe?”

  “Nothing yet, but the LA office does have him under surveillance now.” Ray thought for a moment. “You know, if your theory is right, we might be looking for a limo or taxi driver. They would have easy access to these women.”

  “But how would he get into their houses unchallenged?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe show up claiming that they left something in his limo or cab?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Ray glanced down at his watch. “I’d better get going. I have a few things to take care of before I come back tonight.”

  Charlie nodded. “Thanks again.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.”

  Charlie walked him out and then locked the door before heading back into the office. He sat down as Kendra’s footsteps sounded in the front hall. He could hear her turn on the television, and a few seconds later, he heard the distinctive hum of the treadmill. Satisfied that Kendra was safely occupied, he logged onto the internet and debated where to start researching next.

  There were so many possibilities, both for potential victims and possible suspects. Considering the reality that Kendra might be the primary target of the Malibu Stalker, he pulled a notepad out of his briefcase and sectioned off three columns: one with the dates of the murders, one for the dates of the awards shows, and the other for where Kendra was at each of those times.

  The first two columns filled in quickly. Charlie then went to Google and typed in Kendra’s name. His eyes widened when the results popped up over one hundred seventy million hits. “That’s insane,” Charlie muttered to himself as he narrowed the search.

  He checked out her official website, noting the photos of Kendra at the most recent country music awards. She looked stunning in a streamlined pale blue gown, the scoop neckline and cap sleeves setting her apart from the few other women in the background with their more worldly formal attire.

  A sense of unease pricked at him when he noted the date of the photo and realized that it was taken at the awards show just before Joslyn Korden’s murder. He then opened up another tab and began searching various magazine and celebrity websites that showed the red carpet photos.

  Photos of Kendra were easy to locate since she was always included in the various sites’ slideshows. He read one of the captions, smiling to himself when Kendra’s blue gown was described as elegant and timeless. At another site, she was called classically modest in her Cinderella-style dress.

  “What are you doing?” Kendra asked when she walked into the room an hour later.

  “Research,” Charlie said as he glanced up. He noted that she must have just gotten out of the shower since her hair was a little damp. She had also changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “You’re researching me?” she asked flatly, skirting around the desk so she could look over his shoulder at the computer screen.

  Charlie nodded absently as he clicked on the next image. “Do you always wear blue?”

  “Yeah.” Kendra’s shoulders lifted. “My mother picked ice blue as my signature color, and I just never cared about that kind of stuff enough to argue with her about it. Personally, I’m about ready for a change.”

  His blood ran cold, and his eyes lifted to meet hers. The sudden clarity of thought pulsed through him. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, Kendra wasn’t an image, an illusion of the stalker’s obsession. She really was the obsession. He also realized that the formal wear could be the key rather than the events the women might have attended.

  “What’s your favorite kind of flower?”

  “My favorite flower?” She looked at him quizzically. “Officially or unofficially?”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Actually, yes. According to the public image my parents helped create, I like red roses, but I actually prefer lilies.”

  Charlie’s lips pressed into a hard line, and his mind raced with possibilities. After a moment of silence he asked, “Do you have your dresses custom made?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded her head. “Henrico Aldaves has been designing dresses for me and my family for as long as I can remember.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  She shifted so she was standing beside him instead of looking over his shoulder. Confusion was evident on her face, but she answered him without question. “He’s been married a few times, a couple of kids, one from each of his first two marriages.” Her shoulders lifted slightly. “My mom was friends with his third wife, Brandi, but when that marriage ended, my mom decided she liked Henrico’s designs more than she needed Brandi’s friendship, so she kept his phone number on speed dial instead of hers.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Mid to late forties.” She shrugged. “Of course, in Hollywood you can never really be sure.”

  Charlie jotted down the dates of the six murders and then shoved the pad of paper and a pen toward her. “I need y
ou to write down where you were on all of these dates. If you can tell me what you were doing in the few days or even weeks before them, too, that would be great.”

  “Some of these were years ago.”

  “I know.” Charlie looked up at her, a little ripple of panic finding its way into his voice. “But it’s important.”

  Kendra’s eyebrows drew together. “Charlie, what’s wrong?”

  “I just want to check something,” Charlie said, trying to keep his voice casual. “Just give me as much information as you can.”

  “Okay.” Kendra picked up the pen. “But I may need to look on the internet.”

  Charlie motioned at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Pull up a chair, and we’ll work on this.” He looked up at her, his eyes dark. “Together.”

  Chapter 27

  He leaned back on the couch and watched the television camera zoom in on Kendra as she started down the red carpet. Even though he had watched this recording dozens of times, his heartbeat always quickened when she moved so gracefully toward where he had been waiting and watching.

  Her smile was vibrant as she approached the camera, her sister in step beside her. He hit the pause button when Kendra turned to the crowd and waved. She had waved to him.

  The mass of screaming fans had kept him hidden from the cameras, but that was okay with him. He hadn’t cared about being seen on television. He only cared about being seen by Kendra.

  And she had seen him. After all, why else would she have waved? She knew that she was meant for him. She was just waiting to get to know him, the real him, even if she didn’t understand that yet.

  He stood up and moved closer to the big-screen TV. He pressed a hand to the image of her cheek and let out a sigh. He was tired of waiting. Her next appearance was only a few hours away, and he would be there. He would be ready to take her away.

  * * *

  Kendra picked at her dinner, bits of conversations replaying in her head. She forced herself to eat a bite and realized that Charlie hadn’t said a word since the blessing was offered on the food. His silence spoke volumes, confirming her deepest fears, a reality beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

  “My father was right, wasn’t he?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My dad has been convinced for years that I’ve needed protection, that something would happen to me if I had my way and got rid of my bodyguards.” Kendra’s voice was surprisingly steady. She waited for Charlie to look up at her before continuing. “I’m the one the Malibu Stalker is really after, aren’t I?”

  “There’s no way to be sure,” Charlie said unconvincingly.

  Kendra nodded, and her lips pressed together as she fought back her emotions. “But it’s what you believe.”

  “Yes, it’s what I believe.” Charlie let out a sigh. Then he reached across the table and took her hand in his. “The FBI has been trying to find a common link among these murders for years. I think you’re it.”

  “So someone is out there killing women and imagining that he’s killing me?” She shook her head, wanting desperately to believe that Charlie’s suspicions weren’t true. Why would anyone want to kill her? There had to be some other explanation. “This could all be a coincidence. I’m sure there are other blondes at those same events, probably some who were at every one of them.”

  “You’re right. You socialize in a very distinctive crowd, and we’ll certainly check that out.”

  “So you might just be overreacting.”

  “I hope so,” he said, but she could see in his expression that he didn’t think so.

  She sighed. “Why are you so sure it’s me?”

  “The explosion backstage at your concert was the first red flag.”

  She sensed he was holding something back. She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “And?”

  “The victims are always blonde and are always found wearing a blue evening gown,” Charlie said gently. “And there is always a red rose beside each of the bodies.”

  “What?” Kendra swallowed hard, and her face paled.

  “I’m certainly no expert on psychological profiling, but it does make sense. The stalker sees you at the various awards shows or formal events. He fantasizes about you but can’t get close—at least the way he wants to. Then he finds a substitute, someone he can pretend is you.”

  “That’s sick.”

  “Yes, it is.” Charlie let go of her hand and pressed his fingers against his forehead to ebb the headache building there. Then he glanced back at her with a look of concern and helplessness. “You have to understand that whoever this guy is, he probably looks and acts normal. You probably even know him, at least peripherally.”

  Now a new sense of panic skated through her. “You think I know the stalker?”

  Charlie nodded. “He might be a cameraman or a reporter. He could be someone who works with the company that caters these events or even a limo driver.” Charlie hesitated and seemed to gather his thoughts. “Whoever he is, he knows that you have adequate security, and now he’s trying to unravel you enough that he can slip past it.”

  “And if you hadn’t found me in Pinewood, he might have.”

  “Possibly.” Charlie shrugged. “Or you might have picked the one place where he didn’t know to look for you.”

  She fell silent for several long minutes as she tried to sort out the jumble of information she had absorbed over the past few hours. Then she drew a deep breath. “One thing I don’t understand though. You said there was an explosion at Joslyn’s photo shoot shortly before she was killed. Why are we the only two that had that happen?”

  “I think Joslyn was the test run.” Charlie’s voice was gentle, but he couldn’t manage to take away the edge of his words. “Joslyn was the only victim who had a bodyguard. She was also the most recent murder.”

  An ugly sickness started in her stomach and spread quickly. “So she’s dead because of me.”

  “No,” Charlie started as Kendra pushed away from the table. Before she could escape to her room, he stood and blocked her path. He grabbed both her arms, waiting for her to look up at him before continuing. “Joslyn and the others are dead because there’s a sick man out there who killed them. You didn’t do anything to cause this.”

  “I’m just the woman who wore the blue evening gowns.”

  “Pretty much.” Charlie let out a helpless sigh. Then he pulled her closer, and she let herself be drawn into the warmth of his embrace.

  They stood there in silence for several minutes. Then Kendra shifted and looked up at him. “Is this ever going to end? Is the Malibu Stalker going to keep killing people?” She swallowed hard. “And is there any way this can end without me ending up like those other girls?”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Charlie said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

  She stared up at him as a turmoil of emotions bubbled inside her. The fear was still there, the overwhelming terror that the Malibu Stalker would find her and end her life in a horrifying fashion. Humming alongside that fear was the desire to believe Charlie, to let herself trust him to keep her safe.

  Warmth spread through her as she remembered the blessing Charlie had given her when they were in Pinewood. She didn’t doubt that Charlie was one of the people the Lord had put in her life to help her overcome the challenges she was facing. Now, if she could only figure out how to have faith that everything was going to be okay.

  Charlie stepped back, gently easing out of the embrace. “I know you feel stifled when you have a lot of security around, but you have to understand that you can’t be alone—ever—until we catch this guy.”

  “Who’s to say the stalker won’t be able to get past my security?” Kendra asked, her doubts still lingering. “He got past Joslyn’s bodyguard. He even got past Dustin at my concert, and that’s not an easy thing to do.”

  “Dustin?”

  “Dustin Brady, my personal bodyguard,” Kendra elaborated. “Apparently
someone hit him from behind while I was on stage.”

  “Even the best bodyguards can have an off day.”

  “Not Dustin. He’s a former marine. Special forces. He isn’t one to ever get caught off guard.” Kendra shook her head. “If he hadn’t been one of the best, my father never would have let me go down to only one bodyguard.”

  “But if the person who knocked him out was allowed to be backstage, Dustin might not have recognized the threat,” Charlie pointed out. Something sparked in his eyes, an awareness that hadn’t been there moments before. “How tight is security at your concerts?”

  “Tight,” Kendra said, cluing into his thought process. “Everyone has to have a backstage pass, and those are usually logged as they’re given out.”

  “I’m sure the LAPD is already tracking down those leads then.”

  “There is one downside. The passes don’t have photo IDs on them or anything. They can be handed off from one person to another without the log being altered.”

  “Yeah, but the police will verify everyone who had a pass and figure out who didn’t use theirs and if they gave them away,” Charlie stated with certainty.

  “Part of me wishes I could just hide out here indefinitely, that I didn’t have to show my face again in public.” Kendra moved over to the couch and plopped down. “Of course, I’m sure I would go stir crazy within a week. It’s only been a couple of days, but I’m already edgy.”

  Charlie moved to sit beside her. “You know, you can always change your mind about the month deadline you gave us. We can try to arrange protection for longer.”

  “I can’t do that. I’m supposed to be attending a benefit for St. Jude’s Research Hospital, and I’m one of the headliners.”

  “You could cancel.”

  She shook her head. “I feel bad enough that I won’t be at the Red Cross fundraiser tomorrow night. As tempting as it is, I can’t stop living my life indefinitely.”

  Charlie tensed briefly, but then he nodded. “I need to go make a quick phone call, but what do you say we watch a movie together tonight? I saw some DVDs on the shelf by the TV.”

 

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