Dead Ringer

by Mary Burton

Brett grinned. ‘I should have known.’ He rose and moved around the desk until he stood just inches from her. ‘I knew it was a smart idea to hire you.’

  Impatience nipped at her and she feared where this conversation was going. ‘It was one of your best.’ She turned to leave and he caught her arm in his hand. The hold was gentle, yet insistent. Emotion darkened his eyes. ‘I miss you, Kendall.’

  Since she’d taken the anchor job there’d thankfully been no conversations with Brett about their past relationship. ‘Where’s this coming from?’

  He glanced down to the hand holding her arm. ‘It’s been chewing on me for a while.’

  She did not want to have this conversation. They were done. Period. Gently, she pulled out of his grasp. ‘This isn’t the time.’

  His features stiffened. ‘We need to make the time to talk about us.’

  ‘There is no us anymore, Brett. That ended last year. And as I remember, you were glad it ended.’

  He brushed an imaginary hair from her shoulder. ‘Breaking up was a mistake.’

  At the time she thought it might have been a mistake, but no longer. ‘It was the best move for us.’ She realized now that Brett only wanted what came easily. He wanted a relationship filled with happy moments. The hard, sloppy times sent him running.

  ‘I don’t buy that.’

  Anger kindled inside her. There was a time when she’d really needed his support and he’d refused her pleas of help. ‘You need to accept it. We’re done.’

  ‘Are you seeing someone else?’ Accusation peppered his words.

  She didn’t like his tone of voice. ‘That really is none of your business.’

  He shoved out a breath. ‘It’s a simple yes or no answer.’

  ‘There’s nothing simple about that question.’

  Brett looked frustrated. ‘Why do you have to be so stubborn?’

  She lifted a brow. ‘I’ve got a story to cover and don’t have time for this.’

  For a moment he looked as if he would block her exit, but then he moved aside.

  Kendall exited the office. She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath or that tension had coiled around her spine until she was headed away from him. Brett’s attitude was a bit unnerving and it was something she’d not seen before.

  Her high heels clicked quickly as she hurried down the hallway toward the back exit. She pushed open the back double doors and found the white news van. Mike was in the front seat; the engine was running and the heater humming.

  Her career was heading in the direction she wanted. Her house was coming together. And now Brett was trying to dig up the past. The past. Every time she turned around the past stalked her.

  She climbed into the front seat and handed Mike a sticky note with an address. ‘Let’s head here first.’

  Mike glanced at the address and put the van in gear. He knew the metro area like the back of his hand and rarely needed a map. ‘So who’s there?’

  ‘That woman found by the river on Tuesday. We have her name. This is where her husband lives.’

  ‘Cool.’

  For some reason the casual word irritated her. ‘Cool. We’re covering a woman’s murder.’

  He glanced at her as he drove through the parking lot. ‘What’s got your panties in a twist? She’s a story, Kendall. Just like all the other stories we’ve covered.’

  Indignation burned. ‘She was a person.’

  He pulled out onto Broad Street. ‘Why’s this chick so different?’

  Kendall tightened her jaw. She didn’t have an answer for him. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, figure it out. The last thing I need is for you to go all soupy on me.’

  He’d thrown down a glove, knowing nothing sharpened her focus more than a direct challenge. ‘I’m not soupy – ever.’

  ‘That so?’

  Mentally, she dug in her heels. ‘Watch and learn.’

  Jacob parked the car in front of Phil White’s town house. The air had turned warmer and temps were expected to top forty today. The ice from the storm had melted and almost all signs of the weekend snow were gone. Good. One step closer to spring.

  Jacob tucked his keys in his pocket. He surveyed the town house trying to absorb details. Well maintained. Neat. It looked normal enough.

  But Jacob’s own mother had taught him early on that the walls of a house could hide a multitude of sins.

  ‘You want to do the talking?’ Zack asked.

  ‘Yes.’ He’d not been able to get this victim out of his mind. She’d lived a by-the-book life. No drugs. Hardworking. No dabbling in risky behavior. And yet someone had murdered her. All the signs pointed to a domestic situation.

  Jacob and Zack strode up to the simple front door. Jacob knocked.

  At first there was no sound from inside the town house. Jacob then pounded the door. This time they received a gruff, ‘Just a minute.’

  ‘You’re messing with his beauty sleep,’ Zack said.

  Jacob flexed his right hand. ‘I’m going to do more than that.’

  Footsteps thudded. The door snapped open.

  Standing in the threshold was a midsize guy wearing a gray college T-shirt, sweatpants, and a couple days’ growth of beard. His thick dark hair was brushed back, emphasizing rounded cheeks and bushy eyebrows over dark eyes.

  The man sniffed. ‘What do you want?’

  Jacob pulled out his badge. ‘We’re looking for Phil White.’

  ‘That’s me.’ White frowned. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Can we come in?’ Jacob asked.

  White shook his head. ‘If you’ve got something to say you can say it out here.’

  Jacob didn’t want to do this on a doorstep. ‘Can we come in?’ he asked again.

  ‘No.’

  So be it. Jacob lowered his voice. ‘The body of Jackie White was found on Sunday.’

  White’s jaw dropped. ‘What? Jackie White? My wife is dead?’

  Jacob nodded. ‘Yes.’

  The color drained from the guy’s face and he stepped to the side. ‘Come in.’

  The place was sparse, typical bachelor. La-Z-Boy recliner, wide-screen TV, pizza boxes on the kitchen counter. Jacob would bet the freezer only saw frozen meals and the fridge beer and leftovers. There was a fireplace but it looked as if it had never been used.

  White looked up at Jacob. Tears glistened in his eyes. ‘Are you sure?’

  Jacob nodded. ‘Yes.’

  White dragged a trembling hand through his hair. ‘How?’

  Jacob ignored the question. ‘You two were separated?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Eighteen months.’

  ‘You two fought at Christmas?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  White swallowed. ‘That’s personal.’

  ‘We need to know.’

  ‘She refused to give me a divorce.’

  Neither Jacob nor Zack spoke.

  White filled the silence. ‘I tried to work it out with her. I really tried. But she hated sex. Refused to touch me. Was I supposed to live the rest of my life like a monk?’ He tipped back his head to stop the flow of tears. ‘Why are you asking these questions? How did she die?’ he asked. ‘Was it some kind of accident?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t an accident.’ Clearing his throat, Jacob said in a deliberately softer tone, ‘Do you know of anyone who would want to kill Jackie?’

  White shook his head. ‘She was a saint. She donated her time to every cause out there. Everyone liked her.’

  ‘Did she have any boyfriends?’ Zack asked.

  White barked out a half laugh. ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah. That’s one of the things we fought about in December. I told her she needed a man. She said she didn’t need a man. She was married to me.’ He dropped his head into his hands and started to weep. ‘God, I shouldn’t have yelled at her.’

  Zack cleared his throat. ‘Is there anyon
e we can call to come stay with you?’

  ‘No.’ He swiped tears from his cheeks. ‘No. I’ve got it under control.’

  Jacob glanced around the apartment looking for any signs of pink carpeting. There was nothing. But then if White had killed her it made sense that he wouldn’t do it here.

  White brushed another tear from his cheek. ‘How come I haven’t seen anything on the news?’

  ‘You are her legal husband – next of kin. We are required to tell you first before we release information to the media.’

  White started to weep again. The front doorbell rang and White woodenly moved toward the door and opened it.

  Jacob swallowed an oath when he saw Kendall Shaw standing in the doorway.

  ‘Mr White, my name is Kendall Shaw. I’m with Channel Ten News.’

  Jacob strode toward the door. His gaze lingered on Kendall. For a split second his gut clenched with an unquenchable craving. ‘This is a bad time, Ms Shaw.’

  Kendall’s gaze told him she was as surprised to see him as he was her. She shook it off. ‘Mr White, my condolences to you concerning your wife.’

  White glared at Jacob. ‘I thought the press didn’t know.’

  Jacob swallowed an oath. How the hell had she found out? ‘They’re not supposed to.’

  ‘I only just found out,’ Kendall said. ‘I’d like to talk to you about your wife.’

  Before White could answer, Jacob reached for the door and closed it.

  Forty-five minutes later, Jacob and Zack left White with bloodshot, tear-filled eyes. They’d learned he’d been hunting with buddies the last few days.

  Kendall was waiting outside the apartment. The cold outside had turned her face a bright pink. She moved toward them, her stride confident. ‘I’d love to talk to you about this case, detectives. Do you have a few minutes to spare?’

  Jacob speared her with his gaze. ‘Who gave you the victim’s identity?’

  She shrugged. ‘A source.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I won’t say.’

  Jacob muttered an oath and both detectives started moving.

  Fast-clicking heels told them she had to hustle to keep up with them. ‘I’ve been on the phone for an hour with friends and neighbors of the victim. They all say she was a great person. Any ideas how she ended up dead by the river?’

  Jacob tossed her a glance. ‘Leave Phil White alone, Ms Shaw. He’s upset right now.’ He wasn’t as concerned about White as he was about Kendall mucking with his investigation. White certainly played the part of the grieving husband, but Jacob had learned long ago not to take anything at face value.

  ‘You can’t stop me from talking to him,’ she said.

  ‘No, I can’t. But the guy is a wreck. Show some humanity.’ Jacob and Zack got into Jacob’s car and Jacob fired up the engine.

  He looked up and noticed Kendall was crossing the parking lot to the news van. She started talking to the cameraman, who didn’t seem to like what he was hearing. The two got into the van.

  So she wasn’t pushing the interview today? That was a surprise. Points for her. But he knew her well enough to know she’d be back.

  ‘Damn her.’

  Zack shrugged. ‘She can be a pain, but you’ve got to admit she’s good at what she does.’

  ‘I don’t have to admit squat.’

  Zack studied Jacob. ‘It’s not like you to get so pissed at reporters. They’ve got a job to do, like us.’

  Jacob tightened his hands on the wheel. ‘She takes it too far.’

  ‘Not today. She’s backing off.’

  ‘She’ll be back sooner than later.’

  A grin tugged the edges of Zack’s mouth. ‘She’s gotten under your skin.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  Zack laughed.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he growled.

  Amusement danced in his partner’s eyes. ‘You remind me of me when I had it so bad for Lindsay and she wouldn’t give me the time of day.’

  ‘That’s crap. This woman just annoys me.’

  Zack grinned. ‘Oh, I know.’

  Jacob shook his head and put the car in gear. ‘Shut up.’

  Zack’s phone rang at that moment and he answered it. His smile faded and he nodded grimly as he scribbled a memo in his notebook. He hung up. ‘They found Jackie White’s car off of West Broad Street. Vega’s getting a warrant and will meet us at the scene.’

  Jacob pulled into traffic. He was grateful he could push Kendall from his thoughts. Twenty minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a big-box store and he and Zack walked to the marked police car parked next to a black Jetta located in a remote corner. The sun was dipping lower and the air temp had dropped. The air cut through them like a knife.

  Jacob and Zack exchanged words with the patrolman, who said, ‘Detective Vega and forensics will be here any minute. Vega has the warrant.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jacob shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to the Jetta, Zack following him. Inside, there was a box of tissues on the front seat, white plastic grocery bags full of groceries, and a spare pair of tennis shoes on the back floorboard.

  ‘I don’t see her purse,’ Zack noted.

  ‘No.’

  Zack glanced around the parking lot. ‘What about surveillance cameras?’

  ‘I’ll ask the manager.’

  ‘She’s chosen an isolated corner.’

  ‘The woman who worked in the cubical next to Jackie’s said Jackie liked to park far from the store entrance so she could get a little extra exercise.’

  ‘I’d bet money he snatched her from the parking lot,’ Zack said.

  ‘Yeah.’ Jacob rubbed his hand over the thickening stubble on his chin. He studied the trail from the car to the store entrance.

  Zack shoved out a breath. ‘What could he have said to her so he could get close enough?’

  ‘He could have offered to carry her groceries, asked for the time, or feigned car trouble.’

  ‘Why her?’

  ‘Who the hell knows’?

  Watching Kendall Shaw on the news each night had become a ritual. The day just didn’t feel right if Allen didn’t see her.

  He leaned forward on his workbench and turned the volume up on the small TV mounted on the shelf above. Kendall grinned back at him. Her soft voice soothed his nerves even if what she had to say wasn’t always so pleasant. If not for her he’d not have bothered with the news. Most of it was hype and made-up crap slapped together by the networks to get ratings. No one cared about the truth.

  Kendall walked about the studio. Her long, lean body moved with the confidence of a queen. Her gaze turned serious when she revealed Jackie White’s identity. The camera cut away to interviews she’d done with a neighbor and a coworker. Both seemed sad over the loss of Jackie – Ruth. His throat tightened. He understood that loss. He missed her too.

  Allen was glad now he’d sent that text message to Kendall.

  He liked helping Kendall. He wanted to see her succeed. And he also felt confident that no one would find him. He’d been very careful when he’d laid Jackie on the bank. He’d not even stepped out of the flat-bottomed boat when he’d dropped her body on the shore.

  The serious glint in Kendall’s eyes told him she was frustrated by the police. She wanted more and they weren’t giving it to her. Pride burned inside him. He and Kendall had much in common. In so many ways they were kindred spirits.

  When he’d first arrived in town, he’d written Kendall a couple of e-mails, via the station’s Web site. He had told her how much he liked watching her. She’d not responded back. But he didn’t really blame her.

  This time when he’d sent her a text message, she’d gotten right back to him. Who r u? How do u know this? Satisfaction had burned as he’d stared at the words.

  Allen considered sending another text but decided now wasn’t the best time. Better to stay under the radar for now.

  Chapter Six

  Friday, January 11, 8:12 A.M.

>   Sweat dripped into Kendall’s eyes as she simultaneously pumped on the elliptical trainer and hit the rewind button on the remote. The CD in the TV mounted on the wall clicked backward. The trainer was located in her basement. The space remained unfinished, but the addition of track lighting had banished the gloom and transformed the crude space from dank to suitable. It wasn’t an optimal place to work out but practical and efficient.

  She was near the end of her sixty-minute workout and felt a measure of satisfaction as sweat rolled down her face. The pinch that always seemed to be in her shoulder had eased somewhat and she felt good. Her mind drifted to the day ahead. It was Friday and she was going to work on the White story before she had to report to the hospital for physical therapy on her shoulder. She was looking at another month of PT before the docs pronounced her totally healed from last summer’s shooting.

  Kendall rubbed the scar on her shoulder before she replayed the broadcast from last night. She watched as she interviewed neighbors and coworkers of White and could see that she was softer than she had been last summer when she’d covered the Guardian. The old Kendall would have gone for the interview with Phil White, regardless of his grief. Mike certainly hadn’t been happy when she’d announced they were backing off for the day. But she’d been adamant.

  She pumped harder on the machine.

  Ironically, the viewers had loved her work. E-mail response had been tremendous. Though there’d been nothing from her tipster. Despite a wave of unease, she’d sent him another text message asking for an interview but doubted he’d respond.

  Four minutes remained in her workout when the front doorbell rang. ‘Damn.’ Nicole hadn’t gone to work yet and Kendall hoped she’d grab the door. An obsessive-compulsive streak always kept her pushing as hard as she could until she reached exactly sixty minutes.

  She listened hoping to hear the door open. The bell rang again. ‘She’s in the shower, I bet.’

  Kendall started working faster, trying to will the clock to reach sixty minutes. She wanted to finish the workout before the visitor rang again. Three minutes and twelve seconds to go. Two more rings sounded from the upstairs hallway.

  ‘Damn.’ She hit STOP on the machine and climbed down. She shut off the TV and grabbed a towel draped over a nearby table. She climbed the steps to the first floor.