Dead Ringer

by Mary Burton

  Kendall grinned. ‘I know.’

  Nicole laughed. ‘And you’re humble, too.’

  She lifted a neatly plucked brow. ‘I don’t have a humble, down-to-earth bone in my entire body and you know it.’ She wasn’t ashamed to admit she liked nice things.

  ‘That’s one of the things I like about you, Kendall. You know what you want and aren’t afraid to go after it. When I grow up, I hope to be just like you.’

  Kendall grabbed a large black Coach bag from the counter. The bag held everything from makeup, snacks, and notebooks to a laptop, a digital tape recorder, and a spare Fendi scarf. It was her survival bag. ‘Life’s too short for indecision.’

  Nicole’s mood suddenly shifted to pensive as if her thoughts had turned back to the baby. ‘Right.’

  Kendall felt as if she’d kicked a puppy. Her straightforward manner made her a great reporter but a difficult friend. ‘So what are you doing today?’ She injected as much enthusiasm as she could.

  ‘I’m developing pictures.’ Nicole smiled, trying to shake off her mood. ‘I did a huge photo shoot of a family who lives on River Road. Five grown kids and the parents. They all have busy schedules. Logistical nightmare. But in the end I got some good stuff. They’ll be pleased.’

  ‘Are you using those pictures in a show?’

  ‘This work is strictly for the money. I’ve had so many paying gigs I’ve had to put the artistic stuff on the back burner.’

  ‘That’s a good thing?’

  Nicole shrugged. ‘Yes and no.’

  ‘So what’s your next assignment?’

  She looked pleased with herself. ‘A portrait for an office lobby and publicity shots for Dana Miller next Thursday. She won the contract to sell Adam Alderson’s River Bend Estates.’

  Kendall knew the woman by reputation. ‘Charge her top dollar. She’s high profile and she’s got deep pockets.’

  ‘It’s going to be a generous paycheck.’ Nicole pressed her hand to her stomach.

  Kendall frowned. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Fine. She’s just moving a lot lately. Must be the Mexican food I had a few days ago.’

  A rush of panic niggled her. ‘You will tell me if you go into labor? I don’t want to be delivering a baby on my kitchen floor.’

  ‘That would be bad especially if the Italian marble has been laid.’

  Kendall frowned. ‘I’m not kidding. I want that baby born in a hospital, where you both will be properly taken care of.’

  The microwave dinged and Nicole pulled out her brewed cup of tea. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not that close to delivery. The doctor said at least three weeks, maybe even a month before she makes her appearance.’

  Kendall had promised herself not to push Nicole one way or the other when it came to the adoption. But try as she might, she could no longer dance around the subject of the baby. ‘So have you followed up with the adoption agency again?’

  Nicole sipped her tea. ‘No.’

  That worried Kendall. ‘Nicole, you can’t keep putting this off. That baby is coming no matter what. Three weeks isn’t that far off.’

  ‘I know.’

  Kendall softened her voice. ‘You owe it to yourself and the kid to figure out what you are going to do.’

  Nicole dropped her gaze, her cheeks flushed with emotion. ‘I know.’

  Kendall sighed. ‘Hey, I know I can be overly direct. Even a bitch. But I like you. And I just don’t want to see you get hurt. And I think the more you plan the easier it will be for you.’

  Nicole lifted her eyes. Tears glistened. ‘God, I wish I had cut-and-dry answers. The baby deserves to be happy and to have the best. I just don’t know if I’m the person to do it for her. And still I can’t discuss making an adoption plan.’

  Kendall thought about her own complicated relationship with her late mother, who had adopted Kendall when she was three. There’d been lots of love in the house. But Kendall had learned early on that her mother didn’t like to discuss the adoption. Even to this day, loyalty to her mother mingled with fear of the unknown and kept her silent about her adoption. ‘Few things in life are. We just do the best we can.’

  Nicole tipped her head back so the tears wouldn’t spill. ‘I know. You’re right.’

  ‘So you’ll at least talk to the agency and make sure you’ve covered all your options.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll follow up.’ This time tears spilled down her cheeks. ‘I will.’

  Kendall laid a manicured hand on Nicole’s shoulder. ‘Don’t cry, Nicole. I don’t want to start my day knowing I made a pregnant woman cry. It’s got to be really, really bad Karma.’

  Shaky laughter rumbled from Nicole as she swiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘No more tears.’

  ‘Good. Don’t worry, we’ll take this one step at a time.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Nicole swallowed, sniffed. ‘So what were you doing up late last night?’

  Kendall tensed. She’d not spoken to anyone about the dreams and she didn’t want to. Verbalizing validated them somehow. ‘You heard me?’

  ‘I pee on the hour, remember?’

  ‘Right.’ She dug her fingers through her long dark brown hair. ‘It was nothing. I just couldn’t sleep.’

  Nicole sipped her tea. ‘Normally you sleep like the dead.’

  When she was a kid, her mother said she could run nonstop all day. But at night when her head hit the pillow, she collapsed and slept like the dead. That pattern hadn’t changed until last summer. ‘I know.’

  ‘What kept you up?’

  ‘Problems at work. The negotiations for the new talk show have me a little stressed. It’s just a fluke, I’m sure. I just need to cut back on the caffeine.’

  ‘Everything else is going really well at the station?’

  ‘Great. I love the job.’ That was the truth, pretty much. But it did lack the excitement of live reporting.

  ‘No more dangerous stories?’

  Kendall had taken terrible chances last summer chasing the Guardian serial killer story. Then she’d craved the attention of the big networks, wanted to land a new job and leave Richmond. However, after the Guardian shot her, the urge to flee the past vanished. In fact, the opposite became true. She started thinking about her past more and more, and when the anchor slot became available she jumped at it.

  ‘I did do a remote from the women’s show last week,’ she teased. ‘Got a little hairy in the waxing booth.’

  Nicole wasn’t thrown off by the humor this time. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes. No hard news reporting these days.’ She checked her watch, refusing to fret anymore. The dream was just a dream. ‘I need to get to the station and start prepping for the evening broadcast.’

  Nicole seemed to sense she’d hit a touchy subject but let it go. ‘Sure. Have a great day.’

  ‘Call me if you need me.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Kendall tossed a wave at Nicole and headed out the back door. Her high heels crunched against the road salt that she’d spread on the back porch after the snowstorm. She tiptoed down the steps, over the slick walkway to the garage door, and slid behind the wheel of her black BMW, parked next to Nicole’s beat-up Toyota. She fired up the engine, noting the thermostat barely had tipped twenty.

  She pressed OPEN and the garage door swung open and she shoved the car’s gearshift into reverse. She backed into the gravel one-lane alley that separated the row houses on her street from the ones on the street parallel to hers.

  Absently, she glanced at the vacant house that stood directly behind hers and the FOR SALE sign that hung on the fence. She shifted to first gear, then accelerated down the narrow alley and toward the side street.

  Within ten minutes she was at the station and pushing through the front doors of the Channel 10 station. She waved to the receptionist. ‘Hey, Sally. How goes it on the front lines?’

  The young blond girl, a recent journalism grad, grinned. ‘Never better.’

  ‘Good.’ She moved down the
hallway past the huge head shots of her and the other anchors at the station to her office.

  Kendall dropped her purse onto her neatly organized desk. She’d hired a painter after she’d gotten the job and had had them paint the walls a soft mauve. She’d brought in artwork, a few plants, and an Oriental rug. Instead of using the fluorescent light above, she relied on the two floor lamps and a desk lamp. The office had gone from sterile to cozy.

  Her news director, Brett Newington, appeared in her doorway. ‘What brings you in so early?’

  Chiseled features, thick blond hair, and a toned body gave him a boyish charm, which had been what had caught her eye a couple of years ago. They’d started dating and they’d been incredible at first. They seemed to fit so well together. Then her mother had gotten sick with cancer. Kendall had given up her apartment and moved into her mother’s house to care for her. Brett had resented the time she’d devoted to her mother and Kendall had suddenly discovered chiseled features and nicely tailored shirts weren’t enough.

  She’d broken it off with him. At first, he’d seemed relieved and had even gone on to date other women. Lately, however, he’d been making noises about getting back together. She’d been doing her best to ignore them.

  ‘Tying up loose ends.’

  He looked suspicious. ‘Then you didn’t hear.’

  ‘About?’ She took off her coat.

  ‘There’s a report of a murder in the east end. Body found at Alderson Development’s River Bend Estates’ site.’

  ‘Who was killed?’

  ‘So you really haven’t heard?’

  Brett thought she’d gotten wind of the story and had arrived early so she could cover it. Smart man. If she had heard, she’d have done just that. ‘Who was murdered?’

  ‘I don’t know. Some woman.’

  Some woman. Some woman who had a name and a life that was now over.

  Nearly dying last summer had changed the way she approached stories. They were more personal now. She felt for the people involved more. ‘She must have a name.’

  Brett shuffled through the papers in his hands as if searching for an answer. ‘Not yet. Unidentified at this hour.’

  She could have been some woman last summer. ‘I want to cover this,’ she said.

  ‘No. I need you here behind the desk. I’m going to send Ted.’

  Hearing no made her want this story more. ‘I’ve not been in the field for weeks and even you said research shows viewers like it when I go on location. Besides, I can do a better job on this than Ted.’

  Brett scratched his head. ‘Viewers like seeing you at powder puff events like the tree-lighting downtown. They don’t want to see you slogging it out at a murder scene.’

  ‘Let’s face it, they’ll all tune in when they know I’m covering the story.’ She hated to admit what she said next. ‘I’ve not covered anything hard since last summer and they’ll all want to know how I’ll react. Think of the ratings.’

  Ratings. It was the magic word. ‘Why this story?’

  She couldn’t explain what she didn’t understand herself. ‘I’m really good at this, Brett. You and I both know this.’

  He studied her. ‘It’s hard to say no to you.’

  ‘Oh, please. We both know you would if you thought it wasn’t a good idea. And it’s a great idea.’

  He grinned. ‘Okay. Take the story.’

  Kendall ignored the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She moved to a small closet and removed a pair of worn hiking boots she kept on hand for rough terrain. The land around River Bend was raw and covered with snow. ‘Call Mike and have him warm up the van. I’ll be out front in five minutes.’

  Allen watched her move through the cold, her head tucked low against the wind. She shoved slim hands in the pockets of her large dark overcoat. Her snow boots were damp and muddy and the scarf wrapped around her neck was soiled at its edges.

  It saddened him to think she had to work so hard to get through life. She struggled so much.

  So bravely.

  He also knew she was lonely and afraid. He’d seen her crying by her bedroom window the other night. His heart ached for her. She was adrift in the world. She needed her family.

  She deserved more, just as Ruth had deserved more. And he intended to give her all that was owed to her.

  Soon she would not be alone. She would be a part of his Family. Soon she would be with those who loved her so very much.

  His fingers tingled with excitement. He was anxious for her to join Ruth. So anxious in fact that it was a struggle to keep his distance.

  The house was so quiet since he’d sent Ruth away. So lonely. He found himself wandering from room to room, hating the silence and the way the wind made the shutters creak.

  The house just wasn’t the same without Ruth. She’d brought life to the house.

  God but he hated the loneliness.

  He swallowed a lump in his throat.

  The loneliness would end soon.

  Chapter Three

  Tuesday, January 8, 12:10 P.M.

  The overcast sky added an extra bite to the ice-cold wind that cut through Jacob’s leather jacket. He stamped his feet, hoping the extra blood circulation would warm his body and restore some feeling to his toes.

  The survey crew seemed to accept the cold as a matter of course. They’d remained idle all morning, standing on the sidelines watching the police work as if it were a location set for a television crime drama. Fifteen minutes ago they’d broken out their lunches. It was a regular party.

  As much as he wanted to leave, neither he nor Zack considered it. They wanted to wait until Tess had finished taking her photographs, sketching out the scene, and had released the body to the state medical examiner’s office.

  Tess had searched the victim’s pockets, finding wadded tissue and a grocery store receipt, but nothing that would identify her. She also searched the entire area around the body for evidence but so far had found nothing out of the ordinary. The wind wasn’t helping matters either and could easily have blown evidence farther afield. Jacob had expanded the search perimeter. He had ordered the uniformed officers to fan out and search the area.

  Tess hoped to preserve as much evidence that still might remain on the body. She had ordered the woman’s body moved away from the water and wrapped in a clean white sheet. Once it was transported to the medical examiner’s office, she would go over it again and search for hair and fiber samples on the body.

  Tess trudged up the hill, her expression grim. Her cheeks were pink and her lips chapped. Wisps of dark hair peeked out from the skullcap on her head.

  Jacob raised the yellow tape for her.

  Tess ducked under the tape and arched her back, trying to work the knots formed after hours of stooping. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Zack moved away from the uniforms toward her. ‘You need a strong cup of coffee.’

  ‘I intend to have one as soon as I arrive at the medical examiner’s office. When I’ve warmed up, I’ll go over the body again.’

  Zack looked like he wanted to argue with his kid sister, but he knew she didn’t like babying. ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’ve called the body removal team,’ she added. ‘They’ll be here in a few minutes.’

  ‘Did you find anything?’ Jacob asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Not yet. And it’s so damn cold our killer likely didn’t break a sweat when he dumped our victim.’

  Sweat mixed with the body’s oils to create fingerprints. Without sweat, fingerprints weren’t always produced. ‘Do the best you can.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Zack braced against the wind. ‘What can you tell us, Tess?’

  She shoved out a breath. ‘The medical examiner will have to confirm all this but I think whoever held her also injected her with something.’

  ‘What makes you think the killer did it?’ Jacob asked. ‘People from all walks of life have hidden addictions.’

  Tess sniffed. ‘The needle marks on
her arms are fresh. And there are no signs of older marks that would suggest she was a habitual user.’

  ‘They could be behind her knee,’ Jacob said. That had been a favorite spot of his mother’s.

  Tess shrugged. ‘We’ll see. But I don’t think she’s an addict. Doesn’t have the look.’

  Many didn’t have the look if it was a new habit. ‘Why do you think the killer injected her? Maybe she did it herself. Went on a binge.’

  Tess’s face tightened with annoyance. ‘Like I said, I don’t think so. Her teeth are healthy and her fingernails don’t appear splintered – both would be signs of chronic drug use. I think whoever took her, tied her up, likely to a chair, kept her for several days and shot her full of drugs. And then strangled her.’

  The image of the woman’s face flashed in his mind and again he thought about Kendall Shaw. He savagely pushed the thought away, refusing to think of the body as anything more than evidence. ‘Any signs of sexual assault?’

  ‘Couldn’t hazard a guess at that one. Her clothes are perfectly intact, but you know that doesn’t mean anything.’

  The hearse arrived and made its way down the rough construction road. It stopped a hundred yards from them. The driver kept the motor running as he and another man emerged. Both men were tall with broad, muscled shoulders.

  They removed the gurney from the back of the hearse casually and headed toward Tess. She led them to the body, which she had bagged in a black body bag. The bag had been sealed with a lock that wouldn’t be removed until it reached the medical examiner’s office. The attendants hoisted the body on the gurney, carried it up the embankment, and loaded it in the hearse without conversation.

  Zack and Jacob followed Tess to the forensics van. They waited as she fired up the engine and turned the heat on full blast. She closed the door but cracked the window.

  Tess held out her hands toward the heater. ‘I’m never going to be warm again.’

  ‘When does your shift end?’ Zack ducked his head so he could make eye contact.

  ‘Four. Hopefully, I’ll be done with our Jane Doe. I promised Mom I’d help pack up the Christmas decorations.’