Fatal Identity

by Joanne Fluke

  “He’s there?!”

  “Of course, he’s here. He’s my husband. Look, Sam . . . I’ve had enough of . . .”

  “Please believe me, Marcie. I’m trying to save your life!”

  Marcie frowned. Sam seemed sincere, but he was terribly mistaken. “Look, Sam . . . you’re wrong about Brad. I’d stake my life on it!”

  “That’s exactly what you’re doing.” Sam sounded very definite. “Stall Brad somehow, and I’ll call the police. And whatever you do, don’t wear red!”

  “But I’m about to put on . . . Sam? Are you there?” The phone crackled with static, and then there was nothing but a dial tone. They’d lost contact. Marcie frowned and put the receiver back in its cradle. There was no doubt in her mind that Sam was wrong, but Brad had acted very strange tonight.

  Marcie glanced down at the red negligee in her hand, and shuddered. She realized that Sam was being totally ridiculous, but it wouldn’t hurt to wear the lovely white lace peignoir set that Rosa had given her for a wedding present. She’d tell Brad that the red negligee hadn’t fit. He might be disappointed, but he would understand. After all, he’d almost given her a blue one, instead.

  He was locked in a deadly struggle for the life of the woman he loved. The gods had given him a second chance to save her, and this time he was determined to triumph. At any moment she would appear, and she would be wearing the red negligee. He must not react to the evil red. It was a snare the husband had set for him. He would change the color in his mind, and thus avoid the trap.

  He could feel the husband grow stronger as her footsteps approached. He fought to hang on to his small share of consciousness, and he succeeded. Another trap avoided. Another strategy rendered useless. The husband had planned to shut him out until the precise time had come to destroy her, but he was too strong to recede. He would remain here, fully cognizant, for all that transpired. He would not let the husband shock him into action, as he had done in the past.

  The husband smiled at her as she opened the door. But then, as their eyes saw her, the husband made their face fall into lines of disappointment. “Marcie, I thought you were going to wear the red negligee.”

  He exulted in her perceptiveness. She had aided him in saving her life. But he was not dominant, and their face looked angry.

  “I’m sorry, darling. I hope you’re not too upset, but it’s the wrong size. Can we exchange it tomorrow?”

  “No! Put it on anyway! I want to see it!”

  Her face turned white. She realized that the husband was very angry, and she hurried to placate him. He could have told her that it would be a losing battle. The husband was never placated.

  “But . . . if I wear it, we can’t exchange it.”

  “I don’t care!” The husband made their face glower fiercely. Since frightened prey avoided the web, he made their face smile an embarrassed, sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just that I’ve been imagining you in that negligee all day, and I’m terribly disappointed. Won’t you please wear it for me, even if it’s the wrong size?”

  He wanted to tell her to refuse, to make up another excuse, but the husband was too dominant to let him speak. He watched with dismay as her beautiful face reflected her emotions. Love. Fear. Suspicion. But love won out, as she smiled and nodded. “Whatever you want, darling. I’ll put it on right now.”

  She turned and went back to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. He listened, but he did not hear the lock snap in place. Love had made her foolish, as it was wont to do. She trusted the husband, when she should have put her trust solely in him.

  The husband was not observant. He poured himself a glass of champagne and drank it down in one gulp. There was a smile on their face; he saw the reflection in the mirror hanging over the fireplace. It was the smile of a predator.

  But the alcohol had dulled the husband’s perceptions, and he failed to hear the slight clicking sound as she locked the bedroom door. She had sensed the danger, and she was acting accordingly. But the husband was strong, and the lock on the bedroom door could be easily broken. If his love delayed too long, the husband would not be denied. He would smash through the door and dress her in the red negligee himself.

  Marcie’s hands were trembling as she took off the white peignoir set. Could Sam be right? The expression on Brad’s face had been frightening. Of course, he’d said all the right things to reassure her, but something was terribly wrong. She had to delay as long as possible. Sam had said he’d call the police, and they could be here any minute.

  “Marcie? Are you almost ready?”

  Marcie jumped as she heard Brad’s voice. He sounded anxious, and there was an undercurrent of something else in his voice, something that made her shiver. Did the voice belong to Brad James? Or James Bradley?

  “I’ll be there in just a minute.” Marcie did her best to sound eager and loving. It was difficult when she was so frightened.

  Suddenly, she thought of the phone and she picked it up. Thank God there was a dial tone! She punched out 9-1-1, and shivered as she waited for someone to answer. If he heard her, he might crash through the door and rip the phone out of the wall.

  A woman’s voice answered, but before Marcie could say a word, the line went dead. She was sure Brad had done something to disconnect it. Marcie glanced frantically around the room. She knew the lock on the bedroom door wouldn’t stop him for long, and there was nowhere for her to run except . . .

  Quickly, Marcie pulled on her jeans and a sweatshirt. Then she inched open the balcony door. Perhaps there was some way to climb down to a lower floor. She tiptoed out and glanced over the rail. No handholds. No footholds. It was a sheer drop, straight down to the golf course below.

  The rail moved slightly as she brushed it with her hand, and Marcie frowned as she looked at it closely. She’d seen this type of construction before. Her parents had owned a lake cottage with a balcony just like this one. Six holes were drilled in the wood, and six long metal pins held the railing in place. But the pins were missing on this railing. There was nothing to keep it from falling!

  Marcie shuddered. If she’d leaned against the railing to look over, as most people did, she would have fallen nine floors to the ground!

  Suddenly, Marcie understood. Brad had insisted they have wine with dinner. He’d even ordered a second bottle. And when they’d come back to the condo, he’d opened champagne. He would have claimed she was drunk, just like he’d done with Mercedes, and her death would have been listed as a terrible accident.

  But when had Brad removed the pins? Marcie thought back to the morning, when she’d awakened very early and found Brad standing on the balcony. He’d told her he’d been admiring the view, but now she knew he’d been lying. That was when he’d removed the pins. And this was to be her fate. He planned to push her over the balcony, and then play the part of the grief-stricken husband again.

  “Marcie? Let me in!”

  Marcie shuddered. The dangerous undercurrent in Brad’s voice had grown. Now he sounded very ominous. She tiptoed back in and rushed into the bathroom, calling out to him. “Just a second, darling. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  There was another lock on the bathroom door. Marcie clicked it shut, and leaned against the door, trembling with fear. The walls were thin, and she could hear him pacing the floor, like a caged animal, outside the bedroom door. How long would he wait, before he broke down the doors to kill her?!

  CHAPTER 30

  “Okay, okay. Calm down.” Captain Ted Oukalani rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “I believe you. You think your friend’s in danger, but you can’t give me any proof. And your buddy thinks she’s in danger, too. He’s called three times from his car phone. I’m sorry, Mr. Williams, but we can’t just send out a . . .”

  “Captain?” A policewoman knocked on the open door. “Somebody just called in an emergency from that new time-share condo complex on Ocean Boulevard.”

  George jumped to his feet. “Whic
h unit?”

  “Nine-seventeen. But they hung up before our operator could ask any questions.”

  “That’s Marcie! I told you she was in nine-seventeen. Are you going to roll now, or would you rather wait until you’ve got a murder on your hands?”

  Captain Oukalani turned to the policewoman and began barking out orders. Then he turned to George with an apologetic expression on his face. “Sorry I didn’t believe you before, Detective Williams. Your description of Mr. James sounded crazy.”

  “That’s because he is crazy. But he’s smart, too. He’s already killed two women we know of.”

  Captain Oukalani got up from his desk. “Come on, Detective Williams. You can ride with me.”

  As they hurried out to the captain’s cruiser, George realized that the captain had spent the previous half hour calling him mister, but now he was addressing him as Detective Williams. Normally, this show of respect would have delighted George, but he was too worried about Marcie to even smile.

  Marcie tried to scream as the bathroom door clicked open, but she was too terrified to utter a sound. Her startled mind registered the small piece of metal he held in his hand. An Allen wrench, the proper tool for opening a door when someone had locked himself in the bathroom by mistake. And then he was bending over her, lifting her to her feet from her huddled position near the shower.

  “You lied, darling. You never intended to take a shower. You were hiding from me.”

  The expression on his face was chilling. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or even annoyed. Instead, he was smiling at her dispassionately. It was the kind of smile one would give to someone else’s recalcitrant child. She opened her mouth about to say something, anything, to try to stall him. The police would be here any moment. “No, Brad. I . . . I wasn’t . . .”

  But opening her mouth was a terrible mistake. Before she could say another word, he had shoved a washcloth into her mouth, gagging her so she couldn’t talk, or scream, or beg him to let her go. And then he was carrying her to the bed, and placing her gently on the mattress.

  “Now, where is that lovely red negligee I gave you?” He smiled his chilling smile again, as he gazed into her terrified eyes. “I know you’d like me to take off that gag, so you could tell me, but it’s really not necessary. I’ll find it.”

  In some small corner of her terrified mind, Marcie blessed her mother’s training. She’d never been allowed to leave clothing draped on chairs or scattered in piles on the floor. Her mother had believed that there was a place for everything, and everything should be in its place. It was a lesson Marcie had remembered to this day. When she’d taken off the red negligee, she’d folded it carefully and put it back in its box. And that box was now sitting on the top shelf in the closet.

  “Of course.” Brad smiled at her again. “Mercedes was the same way, you know. She always put everything away. But if I leave you to look for it, you’ll run away again, won’t you, darling?”

  Marcie tried to shake her head. Here was her chance! But Brad gave an amused chuckle.

  “Of course, you will. You have a very strong survival instinct. So you see, I have absolutely no choice in the matter.”

  Marcie watched in terror as he picked up the heavy glass vase from the night table. Her mind screamed out for Sam to hurry, to save her from the monster who was her husband. She’d been so wrong, so terribly wrong. And now he was going to kill her, just like he’d killed Mercedes!

  But she could still move. He hadn’t tied her hands and feet. Marcie kicked, and scratched, and twisted. But Brad was too strong, and he subdued her quickly. He gave an amused chuckle as he held her with one arm, and raised the vase with the other.

  And then his arm swung in a wide arc, and came down toward her with horrendous force. She had time for only one short prayer for Sam to hurry, before everything went black.

  The speedometer on Sam’s rental car hovered at eighty as he barreled down the road, passing everything in sight. He saw flashing red lights behind him, but instead of slowing, he tromped harder on the accelerator. If the police stopped him for speeding, he’d convince them to escort him to the time-share condo. A speeding ticket didn’t matter when Marcie’s life was at stake.

  But the police cruiser didn’t stop. It just passed him and kept on going. There was a second cruiser behind it. And then a third and a fourth. George must have convinced them down at headquarters. Sam held the accelerator to the floor, and fell into line behind them.

  A road sign flickered by at an incredible speed. One mile to go to the turnoff. Sam moved behind the fourth cruiser. There was no need for signaling. There was absolutely no traffic behind them. They’d passed every car on the road.

  And then they were turning. And speeding down a city street. Sirens blared deafeningly in the quiet night. Other cars swerved quickly to the curb, to give them access. And the few lone pedestrians who were out this time of night stared as they screeched to a halt in front of the entrance to the condo.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Two men jumped out of the lead cruiser and confronted Sam angrily.

  But Sam was prepared. Before he’d left Los Angeles, Keith Lucas had given him his badge, to use in an emergency like this. “Keith Lucas, L.A.P.D. Let’s go! I know Brad James, and they sent me to help you talk him down.”

  The officers didn’t bother to examine Sam’s badge. They were in too much of a hurry. They just motioned him to follow as they rushed for the entrance.

  He used every ounce of his will, but he could not control the husband. The husband’s power had grown strong with the act of violence, and he used their hands to dress her in the red negligee. Then he stepped back and waited.

  He knew the husband expected him to explode with rage at the sight of the evil red. He had done it before. But with the small awareness he had left, he fought the husband’s plan.

  Mind over matter. He stared at the evil red and altered it in his mind. It was blue. As blue as a summer sky on a perfect day, as blue as the calm waters of a lake, as blue as Jerry’s startled eyes, when they’d shot him with the bullet that should have killed the husband. Their hands did not reach out to grab her. Their arms did not lift her and carry her to the balcony. Their eyes saw the blue, instead of the red, and nothing happened. Nothing at all.

  The husband used their throat to give a frenzied cry of frustration. And then the struggle began. It was a classic struggle of right versus wrong, of good against evil. And he, Jimmy, could feel his power ebb.

  Too strong. The husband was too strong to control, and he took the upper hand. Greed made him pick her up in their arms, and evil made their feet step closer and closer to the balcony door. Out into the night air the husband carried her, to the very edge of the balcony. And then they both heard a sound, one that filled the husband with despair and Jimmy with hope. The police were breaking in the door.

  Sam rushed in and stopped as he saw the open balcony door. Brad had her in his arms, and he was about to throw her over the balcony. He shouted. Brad turned. And then he called out the name. “Jimmy! Stop him, Jimmy! If you love her, stop him!”

  That was the boost he needed the extra push to give him enough control. She was his love, and the strength of that love made their feet pause. And stumble. And their arms tremble with the effort of carrying her. Their knees buckled, and his love dropped heavily to the floor. Evil would not triumph this time.

  And then he found the courage to do what he should have done long ago, when the husband had first appeared. He would drive out the demon, even if it meant his own death. He had written that last line in the husband’s note, and it was true. He loved her more than life itself. And now his love was safe. The lawyer would take good care of her.

  He made their body turn, and leap, and crash through the rail. There was an instant of euphoria as he fell. The deed was done. The battle was won. Good had truly triumphed over evil. The ground rushed up with a mighty force, and he met it with an exultant cry.

  EPILOGUE


  She opened her eyes to the blinding whiteness. At first she didn’t understand; her mind was floating from place to place, and it was difficult to think. Then she remembered, and she felt a chill creep over her body. She must be dead, and in the center of the white light everyone talked of when they’d had a near-death experience. She’d always thought those stories were ridiculous, but now it appeared that they were true, after all.

  There was a haze in front of her eyes that she couldn’t blink away. Everything shimmered and swam in a white sea. Brad had killed her, pushed her over the balcony, just as he’d planned. But this time he wouldn’t get away with it. Sam knew. And George knew. All they had to do was prove it to the police, and Brad would get the punishment he deserved.

  She felt tears gather in her eyes as she thought of Sam. Poor, dear Sam. How guilty he must feel that he hadn’t gotten there in time to save her. He’d been right all along, and she’d ridiculed him and told him he was crazy. She wished she could tell him how sorry she was. She should have put her trust in Sam instead of Brad.

  Too little, too late. The cliché rushed through her mind with startling clarity. She’d put too little faith in the one man she should have trusted. And now it was too late. How happy she’d been the night she’d stayed at his town house, watching glimpses of his family, and admiring the closeness that had surrounded him as a child. If she’d only known then what she knew now.

  Sam had asked her to marry him. How different things would have been, if she’d agreed to be his wife. She’d fought that closeness, that love she’d felt for Sam, and she’d chosen Brad instead. She knew now that she’d made a terrible mistake. Sam would have loved the twins as his own. And Trish and Rick had already loved Sam.

  Trish and Rick. What would happen to them, now that she was gone? There was Rosa, of course. Rosa would love them and care for them. But was Rosa’s love enough? They’d been so brave, but now they had to endure another tragedy. Their whole family had been wiped out by one man, one monster. The twins had warned her. From the mouths of babes. And she hadn’t listened to them.