by Mary Burton
‘Any ideas about motivation?’
‘Lots of theories but no facts.’
Silent, Cole cut his French toast and took a bite. Then he asked, ‘Did the women have any family?’
‘None that I can find. One was an only child and her parents have passed. The other’s identity hasn’t been released yet.’ Thinking about the murdered women dampened her mood. ‘Enough with murders. Tell me about you. You’d said you were from out West?’
He was careful to keep his answers simple. Otherwise he could trip up. ‘Denver mostly. A little time in Alaska.’
‘And insurance brought you to Richmond?’
He heard the questioning note in her voice. ‘My own agency. I decided to strike out on my own.’
‘But why so far away?’
He picked up his fork. Keep it simple. ‘I just finished up with a nasty divorce,’ he said. ‘I wanted a clean start.’
‘Any children?’
‘No, thank God. Be a shame to drag them through something like that. My folks live in Boulder. And I have a younger sister. Have you ever been out to Denver?’
‘Went through the airport a couple of years ago. My flight was delayed and I spent a few hours there. But that was it.’
Cole could tell Kendall was trying to sum him up. Always the reporter. But he knew he was a hard man to read. He was accustomed to hiding his thoughts.
‘You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?’ she asked.
He grinned. ‘It’s not that. I’m just boring. Thirty-five. Divorced. Insurance. Boring.’
She shook her head. ‘I suspect you are far from boring.’
He cut into his French toast again and stabbed a section with his fork. ‘I’d rather talk about you.’
‘University of Virginia graduate, did some modeling, and then got into reporting,’ she recited like a standard resume.
‘I heard someone mention that you cracked a big story last year.’
She shifted as if the question made her uncomfortable. ‘Yeah, but I’d just as soon not talk about it over breakfast.’
‘Oh, yeah, sure.’ She was friendly to a point, and then a wall thicker than a glacier dropped down.
Cole asked Kendall a few more questions. She answered them. After an hour of idle chatter he walked her home. All pleasant, all nice, just as he’d wanted it to be. He wanted her to think he was a nice guy. He didn’t want her to look too close and figure out that the pieces in his own story didn’t add up.
Jacob spent the better part of an hour jumping rope. He stayed away from the punching bag, instead opting for ab crunches and an upper-body workout with weights. He showered, staying under the spray until the tightness in his muscles eased. He dressed, snapped up his gym bag, and headed out.
As he crossed by the ring in the center of the facility, two young boxers sparred. He paused to watch. The shorter of the two boxers held up his gloves, signaling the other fighter to take a break. Jacob had seen the shorter boxer fight before. Had a good left jab but let his right hand drop too often. His name was Lenny something. He recalled a few scant details. Foster care kid. Hard worker. Ambitious.
Lenny spit out his mouthpiece and moved to the ropes. Sweat drenched his T-shirt and dripped from under his headgear into ice-blue eyes. ‘Hey, you’re Jacob, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You took a hell of a pounding a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Not too bad.’
The kid sniffed. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen. ‘You ever thought about sparring with me? I could use the practice.’
In the last couple of days Jacob had just started to feel human after the last bout. He’d be a fool to take on another match with the healing fractures in his hand. It was a no-brainer. Still, ego and frustration over Kendall had him considering it. ‘You training for a fight?’
‘Yeah. It’s a big one.’
Jacob set his bag down and walked to the ropes. ‘Don’t you have a trainer?’
‘Can’t afford one. I get tips here and there. I watch other fighters. I’ve watched you in the ring.’ He crossed gloved hands over the ropes and leaned forward. ‘I’ve seen you fight, even seen some of your old fights on tape. You’ve got instinct, old man. I need to get me some of your instinct.’
The kid was a big puppy and didn’t mean ‘old man’ in a bad way. Still, it stung. ‘Call me old man again and I’ll show you some instinct.’
Lenny grinned. ‘So you’ll go a round or two with me?’
‘Let’s start with me showing you a few moves, and then see how it goes from there.’
‘Cool. When?’
The kid was hungry. Jacob respected that. ‘Got a case right now. I’ll call when it’s settled.’
Lenny nodded. ‘I’m here every day.’
‘Right.’ Jacob picked up his bag. ‘In the meantime, keep your right hand up. It drops too much.’
The kid grinned. ‘Will do.’
Jacob headed to the corner bagel shop and ordered an egg sandwich and an extra large coffee. The food tasted good and he actually felt human.
He arrived at the office by noon and read the Teletype left by the FBI. As Zack had said, the report detailed the strangulation of two women who shared physical features of the women killed here.
Jacob checked his watch. Noon here meant eight there. He dialed the number supplied, hoping to reach the officer listed in the report. The phone rang three times before he heard a gruff, ‘Alaska State Trooper’s Office.’
Jacob identified himself and waited as the operator transferred him to the trooper. After introductions and a few pleasantries, he brought Trooper Mike Payne up to speed on the local murders. ‘What can you tell me?’
Payne’s chair squeaked and Jacob imagined him leaning back in it. ‘I pulled the file last night when I got word there’d been a hit. Tragic cases. Hit the family hard.’
‘Family? Not families?’
‘The women were sisters. Their names were Maria and Anita Gonzales, ages thirty and twenty-eight. Maria was the first killed. She’d just gotten in her car after her waitress shift. The killer apparently approached her seconds later. Her keys were in the ignition and partially turned as if she’d been interrupted. Her attacker must have yanked her out of the car. We found her body two months later. She’d been dead only a few days.’
‘He’d held her?’
‘Yeah. And there’d been no sign of sexual assault.’
Frowning, Jacob wrote the women’s names on a legal pad. ‘And the sister?’
‘She vanished three weeks after her sister’s body was found. She’d returned to work at a local gift shop. Her killer nabbed her from the back storeroom. We found drops of her blood and tire tracks behind the store. We think he hit her, maybe knocked her out, and then put her in a waiting vehicle.’
‘Where was her body found?’
A shuffle of papers crackled through the phone. ‘She wasn’t found for two weeks. And by the condition of the body, we estimated that she’d not been killed for at least ten days.’
‘Sexual assault?’
‘None.’
‘And these women weren’t wearing charm necklaces?’
‘No.’
Jacob drew circles around the word sisters. ‘Forensic evidence?’
‘Pink rug fibers.’
Jacob expelled a breath. ‘Just like my victims.’
‘Yeah.’
His heart pounded. ‘Got any theories on this one?’
‘We had lots in the beginning. Interviewed ex-boyfriends, coworkers, and neighbors. You name ’em, we talked to ’em. But nothing came up that led us anywhere. It was big news up here for a while.’
‘And no other murders in the area?’
‘None like these.’
‘We have two victims, each with pink fibers. Each appears to have been held for several days before they were killed. Both strangled, except our victims weren’t sisters and they were wearing charms.’
‘They were
n’t sisters?’ the trooper challenged.
‘They look alike but we checked into their family background. One’s a foster kid and the other grew up in a respected family. Both had dark eyes and dark hair.’
The trooper sighed. ‘I’d say our guy killed the first victim here on impulse. He put more thought into the second killing. And now his planning appears to be even more detailed.’
‘Can you overnight me a copy of your file?’
‘Sure. You’ll have it tomorrow if the snow lets up and the planes can fly. Blizzard just hit.’
‘Thanks, Trooper Payne.’
‘Call me if you catch this guy.’
‘I will.’ Jacob hung up the phone.
He stared at his notes. ‘What the hell was setting this guy off?’
Kendall was a bundle of nerves when she stepped into Dr Erica Christopher’s office. She’d never done therapy and didn’t relish the thought. But something had to give.
The fifty-something woman rose from her desk, smiled, and extended her hand. ‘You must be Kendall Shaw.’
Kendall pulled off her dark glasses and accepted her hand. ‘Yes. Dr Christopher?’
‘Yes. Won’t you have a seat?’
‘Thanks.’ She sat on the edge of the couch, ready to spring to her feet if need be.
‘Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?’
Kendall gave her the highlights. Dreams. Adoption worries. All of it. ‘I want the dreams to stop.’
‘You never had anything like this before?’
‘No.’
‘And the dreams started when?’
‘Last summer. They were just flashes at first. Nothing too startling. It’s only been in the last couple of weeks that they’ve gotten to be overwhelming. I have pain meds from last summer when I had my shoulder surgery. They make me sleep but I’m so groggy all day. And I don’t want to cover the problem. I want to get rid of it.’
Dr Christopher pulled off her glasses and studied Kendall. ‘Would you be interested in trying hypnosis?’
‘I’ll try anything at this point.’
‘How about now?’
‘Sure.’
The doctor rose, turned on a small side lamp, and then turned off the overhead light. The room took on a cozy, more intimate feel. Kendall straightened her back and tried to look relaxed.
Dr Christopher scooted her chair to within inches of Kendall. ‘What do you know about hypnosis?’
‘A little. I’m going to feel relaxed. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to?’
‘That’s right. You will be in a totally relaxed state and your mind is going to open. What we are going to try to do is get you back to that closet and see what else we can discover about it.’
Kendall’s stomach churned. Everything in her told her not to go back to that place. ‘Okay.’
The doctor smiled. ‘Close your eyes. Relax your hands. Take a deep breath and release it.’ In a deep, soothing voice, she took Kendall through the process of hypnosis.
Soon the tension seeped from her body and the millions of details that always filtered through her mind faded. She lost track of time and was only aware of feeling warm and relaxed.
‘Now, Kendall,’ Dr Christopher said. ‘Let’s go back to your dream. When you are in the closet. For now there is only silence, as if you’ve put the world on mute. Tell me what you smell and what you feel with your fingertips. Is it hot or cold?’
For a moment, Kendall’s mind was blank. And then her senses kicked in. ‘I feel the scratchy shag carpet under my legs. My left knee sock has fallen to my ankle. The air is chilly and I smell something sweet.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Have you been in the closet before?’
Eyes closed, Kendall smiled. ‘It’s my favorite place to play. I can be alone here.’
Dr Christopher laid her hand over Kendall’s. ‘Now, I want you to turn the volume back up. I want you to let the sounds grow gradually louder.’
Kendall imagined turning the volume up on a TV. At first there was nothing, only silence. And then in the distance, the screams began. It sounded like someone was running toward her and yelling.
Her heart racing, Kendall put down her crayon and stood up. She peeked through the keyhole but couldn’t see anything. And still the screams grew louder. For several long seconds there was only the terrifying noise.
And then the door to the bedroom outside the closet burst open and she saw a woman. Her face was frantic and her eyes were crazed. In her arms she held a small bundle. The woman raced to the door and jerked it open.
Kendall darted back, certain she was in trouble. The woman pushed Kendall into the back of the closet.
‘Sit down,’ she ordered. ‘Sit down and be quiet.’
‘But why?’
The woman laid the bundle at Kendall’s feet. It was a baby. Pink and small, its arms and legs punched and kicked at the air as if to convey displeasure.
‘Stay here. Keep the baby quiet. For the love of God be quiet.’
And then the woman slammed the closet door and locked it. Kendall was left in the darkness with the baby, who was starting to fuss.
She jumped to her feet and pounded on the door. ‘Mommy, don’t leave me!’
‘Kendall.’ Dr Christopher’s voice was stern. ‘Kendall, I want you to wake up now. Kendall, do you hear me?’
Eyes fluttered open and focused on the doctor’s face. Kendall’s fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were white. Slowly, she uncurled them.
Sweat dampened her back and her heart pounded in her chest. ‘The woman in the dream was my birth mother.’
The doctor patted her on the hand. ‘What do you remember about her?’
She searched her mind for details that might reveal what the woman looked like. ‘The image is out of focus.’ She concentrated harder. ‘Dark hair. She smelled like apples.’
‘Do you know why she was screaming?’ The doctor’s voice was calm and soothing.
Kendall drew in a ragged sigh. ‘I think someone was trying to kill her. I think she was trying to protect me and … my sister.’
Amanda awoke to the sharp smell of ammonia. Her head jerked back and she coughed as her eyes popped open. Her vision was blurred, but she could see that there was a man sitting in a chair directly across from her. They were so close, their knees touched.
‘Good, you are awake. I was beginning to worry.’ His smile was warm and welcoming.
‘Where am I?’
‘Don’t you know?’
Amanda’s head ached and her fingers felt numb as fear coiled around her chest. Her vision cleared and she looked around the room. Pink. Gaudy splashes of pink that covered the bed, the walls, and the curtains. It was a wretched shade.
She turned her gaze back to the man’s face. She stared at him a long moment. She’d never seen him before and yet she knew him.
Her blouse was askew and her bra had been unsnapped. She also realized her panties were gone and she was sore inside. Disgust and shame knotted in her stomach. ‘What did you do to me?’
Color warmed his cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you like that, but I wanted you so much. Forgive me.’
She never thought she could hate so much. Whatever was going on here wasn’t just about rape. Ice coated her words. ‘What do you want?’
He met her gaze. ‘You know who I am, don’t you?’
She stared into the man’s eyes. Her memory rushed back in a blinding flash. This was the man who’d forced his way into her apartment. She moistened dry lips and glanced down at her wrists. ‘You broke into my apartment.’
‘Yes. But think back. You know me from before.’
Before. Initially, she didn’t understand. And then, as if a curtain had been lifted, she knew who he was. ‘Allen,’ she said softly.
Smiling, he nodded. ‘Yes.’
Memories she’d long buried deep in her mind clawed their way to the front of her mind. Time had changed him. He’d fille
d out and grown stronger. If she’d not been looking directly into his eyes she’d never have recognized him. ‘You disgust me.’
He winced. ‘Forgive me.’
‘No.’ It was the one thing he wanted from her and it would be the last thing she would give him. ‘You’ve taken so much from me.’
His eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘I’ve not come to take any more. I’ve come to bring you home, Rachel.’
‘Rachel.’ She’d not heard the name in so long. ‘Don’t call me that.’
‘It’s your name.’
‘It was my name. You stole it from me.’ Years of anger welled inside her. She had no desire to beg or plead with the man she hated so much. ‘And home. How can you take me home when you destroyed my home?’ She twisted her bound wrists, wishing she could pummel him with her fists.
He laid his hand on her knee. ‘That’s my fault and I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t touch me.’ Bitterness twisted her heart. Long ago, he had ripped her life apart. ‘I hate you.’
Allen flinched as if she’d struck him. ‘You don’t mean that. We’re family.’
‘Family. You sick bastard, you have no idea what family means.’ Provoking him was foolish and dangerous. But she didn’t seem to care, as if the demons that had stalked her for so long drove her actions now.
Allen rose to his feet, his fists clenched. ‘Rachel, you just don’t understand.’
She craned her neck as he walked behind her. She saw him pull something from his pocket. It sparkled in the light. When he moved close behind her she flinched. She braced for an attack. Instead, he laid a gold necklace and charm around her neck. The metal felt cold against her skin.
‘Do you like it?’
Unexpected relief washed over her. She’d tried to provoke him but was now grateful he’d not attacked her. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to show him any kindness. ‘No.’
He leaned forward until his lips were close to her ear. His hot breath brushed her skin and sent terror rocketing through her body. ‘You haven’t even looked at it, Rachel.’
‘My name is Amanda.’
‘It’s Rachel.’
She kept her gaze ahead, shoving back the fear that tightened her skin and made her heart race. For years she’d wished she could go back to the life she’d known as Rachel. Now, she hated the sound of the name. ‘Asshole.’
