“I look forward to the challenge.”
Gwen smiled as she picked up her coffee. “So do I.” She turned to scan the street before refocusing on Addie. She had something on her mind. That much was obvious. Addie thought about the two agents sent to watch her house last night and Ethan’s speculation that Gwen Holloway’s interest in their investigation might be motivated by something darker than ego.
Addie had seen photographs of James Merrick. Ethan bore a slight resemblance to his father, but not so much that alarm bells had gone off when she’d first met him or even after she’d fallen in love with him. The truth of his identity had hit her like a sledgehammer blow. But the shock of that revelation was all in the past. Now when she conjured an image of James Merrick, Gwen Holloway was at his side, perhaps plotting his demise. Addie imagined the profiler’s growing disenchantment with his protégée, and her rage that everything she’d worked for could so easily be tossed aside. In some ways, Addie sympathized. Times hadn’t changed in that regard. Women in law enforcement were still held to a higher standard. They still had to work twice as hard to prove themselves to their male superiors, and second chances came few and far between.
But Addie doubted that Gwen Holloway would appreciate her empathy.
“It’s nice to have this chance to chat,” Gwen said. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together for the next few weeks. It’s always good to break the ice.”
“How did you know where to find me?” Addie asked.
“I dropped by Ethan’s hotel to see him. I saw the two of you drive up.”
“So you followed me here?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“It’s not a problem. I don’t mind breaking the ice,” Addie said. “We can chat for as long as you like. But I don’t think that’s the real reason you’re here.”
Gwen’s eyes glittered with an emotion Addie couldn’t define and didn’t trust. “You’re both perceptive and blunt. I like that.”
Addie said nothing.
“Since we both favor the direct approach, I won’t beat about the bush. I’m concerned about Ethan’s presence here in Charleston. I’m even more worried about his frame of mind.”
Addie was immediately on guard. “Why?”
Gwen cradled her cup in both hands as she leaned in. “I know all about your past with Ethan. I know what he did to you. You’re more aware than anyone how obsessed he is with clearing his father’s name. The evidence against James remains damning, and yet Ethan has convinced himself of his father’s innocence. He dragged you into his delusion once before, and it didn’t end well for either of you.”
Addie took a moment before responding. “With all due respect, how is any of that your concern?”
“I’m concerned for a multitude of reasons.”
“Why? As I understand it, Ethan is here on his own time. He’s not utilizing FBI resources or manpower to further a personal investigation. He’s working alone with a little help from me. But even if that wasn’t the case, you don’t work for the Bureau. Why do you care what he does?”
Annoyance flashed across Gwen’s features before she shrugged it away. “I don’t know how much Ethan has told you about our background, but we go way back. I knew him when he was just a little boy.”
“Yes, I know. His father was your mentor,” Addie said. “I’ve read all your books. I found them fascinating, and I don’t say that to suck up.”
“That’s not your style, is it, Detective Kinsella? You’re fiercely independent. You don’t like giving or receiving favors, and as I noted earlier, you’re blunt. I appreciate that. So let me be straight with you. Unless you cut Ethan Barrow off at the knees, that man will be your downfall. I know what I’m talking about.”
Addie frowned. “What do you think he’ll do to me?”
“The same thing he did before, only worse. The same thing his father tried to do to me.”
“Which was...?”
Gwen glanced around, automatically scoping out their surroundings. “It may surprise you to know that I’ve remained good friends with Ethan’s mother and stepfather over the years. And with Ethan when he would allow it. I’ve watched his career successes—and his failures—with great interest. I’ve always known he had something special—intelligence, talent, dedication, but also that indefinable quality that sets certain agents apart from the pack. He’s like his father in that respect. He has James’s insight and instincts. His single-mindedness. He could truly be one of the greats. The powers-that-be want him in the BAU, but Ethan is nothing if not stubborn. His resistance hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
“What does that have to do with my downfall?” Addie asked.
“If he’s so careless with his own career, I can’t imagine that he’ll have much regard for yours. He’s a man on a mission, Detective Kinsella, and he won’t stop until he takes you down with him. He reminds me more and more of James with each passing day.”
“From what I’ve read, a lot of factors contributed to James Merrick’s breakdown. Ethan may be driven, but there is nothing wrong with his head.”
An unpleasant smile flitted. “Are you sure about that? When I first knew James, I would have sworn he was as steady as you or I. There were aspects of his personality and behavior that troubled me, but I told myself he was just unconventional, as so many brilliant people are. I tried to convince myself of his eccentricity right up until the moment your mother was murdered because James Merrick could no longer distinguish between fantasy and reality. He became Orson Lee Finch that night, the killer he had hunted so intently for months. Looking back, I saw the signs. I’ve always wondered, if I’d spoken up earlier, could I have stopped him? Maybe your mother would still be alive.”
Oh, she was good, Addie thought. So good that she could almost make Addie believe she had her best interests at heart. Gwen Holloway spoke as if they were confidantes. A sage imparting her wisdom. Listen to me. Learn from my mistakes with Ethan’s father.
Addie knew exactly what the woman was doing. She recognized Gwen’s cunning and manipulation, and yet a part of her couldn’t help asking, “What signs?”
“I don’t know if I can explain it so that you’ll understand, but James became someone else when he worked a case. He was obsessed, yes. We all were. But it was more than that. He lived and breathed the kills until he became the shadow of whatever monster we hunted. He had instincts and insight like no one I’ve ever seen before or since, although Ethan comes close. When James lost himself in the hunt, nothing else mattered to him. Not rules, not protocol, not even his family. Does that sound like anyone else you know?”
Addie’s hackles rose in defense. “It sounds nothing like Ethan.”
“Then you’re lying to yourself just as I did all those years ago.”
“You underestimate me.” Addie scooted back her chair and stood. “My eyes are wide-open. I know exactly what I’m getting into. I’ll help Ethan for as long and as much as I want and then I’ll walk away.”
“Easier said than done, Detective.”
“Maybe. But here’s where you and I differ. I don’t expect anything in return. I certainly would never want anyone to leave a wife and child for me.”
Fire flashed in Gwen Holloway’s eyes, a quick, violent flare that took Addie’s breath away. Then just like that, the blaze went out and the woman stared up at Addie with cool resolve. “You’re out of line, Detective.”
“Then I apologize. But you’re the one who followed me in here. You’re the one who started this conversation. You said you appreciate my candor, so here it is. My relationship with Ethan is none of your business. What we do on our own time is none of your business. I realize that speaking my mind will likely jeopardize my standing in your program, but I won’t be manipulated. And I won’t be used as a weapon against Ethan.” Addie started to walk away and then turned back to the table. “Oh. And tell those two
agents you sent to watch my house last night to knock it off. All you’re doing is making me wonder why you’re so desperate to stop Ethan’s investigation.”
Gwen rose. “You don’t want me for an enemy.”
“No, I don’t,” Addie agreed. “But if you start a war, you’ll find I’m no pushover. Unless I get word that I’ve been dismissed from your program, I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning.”
She walked outside and put on her sunglasses. Ethan was just crossing the street. She strode over to him. His gaze went past her to the coffee shop, and he muttered something under his breath.
“What happened in there?”
Addie shrugged. “You were right about her. She’s manipulative and vindictive. And unless I miss my guess, she’s hiding something.”
“What did she say to you? Or maybe I should ask what you said to her.”
Addie shrugged again. “Suffice to say, she’s not my biggest fan.”
Ethan grinned. “That’s okay. I am.”
Chapter Thirteen
Addie parked near Waterfront Park, and they walked down the Battery to the farthest point of the peninsula. Crossing East Bay, they lingered in the gardens while she recounted her conversation with Gwen Holloway and the insinuation that Ethan might be following in his father’s tragic footsteps. He didn’t seem at all surprised. “That sounds like her,” he said with a shrug and then wondered aloud about the best way of approaching Vivian DuPriest. In the end he agreed that showing up at her house was their only recourse. Addie wasn’t surprised by the leap. Changing the subject kept them both from dwelling on Gwen’s insidious implications.
“Remember, we’ve got history and name recognition on our side,” she said. “Vivian was a reporter assigned to the Twilight Killer investigation, and she planned to write a book about the case. She may be a recluse now, but I don’t think she’ll be able to resist seeing us.”
They walked through the park, past the cannons and gazebo to Meeting Street, and then cut over to Tradd. The houses here were centuries old with hidden courtyards tucked away behind wrought iron gates and layers of shady piazzas overlooking lavish gardens. For the longest time, they strolled in silence, watching their step on the cracked sidewalks. The morning was quiet and peaceful. A breeze stirred luscious perfumes from behind brick walls. A horse-drawn carriage clopped by on the street.
Addie told herself not to be lulled. Even in paradise, danger lurked. The historic district had been Orson Lee Finch’s hunting ground. Most of his victims had come from South of Broad, though Addie’s mother had grown up north of Calhoun. Ethan’s grandparents had lived only a few blocks away. It seemed strange to think that their paths may have crossed when they were children.
“What’s the house number?” Ethan asked. “We must be getting close.”
“Yes, this is it.” She pointed across the street to a three-story dark brick home with hunter green shutters.
Ethan whistled. “Ida McFall wasn’t kidding about old money.”
“The DuPriests go back a long way in this city,” Addie said. “My grandmother knew the family slightly, though they hardly moved in the same circles. And of course, she became one of Vivian’s most avid readers.” They crossed the street, and Addie tried the gate. It swung inward with barely a squeak. “Must be a sign. Maybe she’ll see us, after all.”
The scent of jasmine trailed them to a side door, which was the main entrance on many of the old homes. Ethan rang the bell, and after a moment, a twentysomething man in khakis and a blue knit shirt the exact shade of his eyes answered. Their appearance seemed to confuse him. He glanced past them to the street as if he had been expecting someone else.
“Can I help y’all?” he drawled.
“We’d like to see Vivian DuPriest,” Addie said.
“Honey, you and a few dozen other people.” He gave them a reproving once-over. “I handle her schedule, so I know she’s not expecting anyone. If y’all are here to get a book signed or you want an interview, I’m afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree. She doesn’t do speaking engagements, either, nor is she interested in joining your book club. If you have other business, then I suggest you make an appointment.”
Ethan took out his credentials. “I’m Special Agent Ethan Barrow with the FBI, and this is Detective Adaline Kinsella with the Charleston PD. We’re here on a matter of some urgency.”
The man scanned their IDs and then glanced up with a puzzled frown. “I don’t understand. Is this about her niece’s accident? She’s already spoken to the police.”
Ethan put away his credentials. “Tell her James Merrick’s son would like to speak with her.”
“And Sandra Kinsella’s daughter,” Addie said. “Please make sure you get those names right. Trust me, she’ll want to see us.”
The young man looked simultaneously annoyed and intrigued by their insistence. “Wait here.”
He closed the door in their faces, and Addie exchanged a glance with Ethan. “He’ll be back.”
“We’ll see.”
The man returned a few minutes later and motioned them into a spacious foyer with paneled walls and marble floors. From there he led them down a wide hallway lined with gilt mirrors and family portraits. The house was beautifully appointed but dark and oppressive. Addie was glad when they were ushered into a garden room, where sunlight poured in through skylights. The effect was almost blinding after the dim hallway, and it took a moment to adjust to the brilliance. A wall of French doors looked out on a tropical wonderland of hibiscus, ginger and hummingbird trees.
Vivian DuPriest looked anything but traditional. Little wonder she had gravitated to the most dazzling room in the house, Addie thought. Her vivid red hair and turquoise kimono rivaled the showiness of her garden. She looked to be in her early sixties, petite but hardly fragile. She watched with avid curiosity as they came into the room, but she didn’t rise to greet them.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Addie said.
The woman looked her up and down. “So you’re Sandra Kinsella’s daughter.” She turned her attention to Ethan. “And you’re James Merrick’s son. You were children the last time I saw you. And look at you now. A police detective and an FBI agent. How interesting that you’ve both chosen careers in law enforcement. How intriguing that you’ve come here together. Would you like tea?”
Addie exchanged another glance with Ethan. “We’re fine, thank you.”
Vivian waved to a pair of wicker chairs with high backs and curved arms. “At least sit. I don’t like lurkers.”
They sat across from the sofa where she perched.
She picked up a floral teacup and sipped delicately as her gaze vectored back in on Ethan. “You look like James. I can see his kindness in your smile and his drive in your eyes. I sense something darker there, too, I think.” She took another sip of her tea. “Your father was a very brilliant man.”
“Did you know him well?” Ethan asked.
“Well enough, I suppose. I had the distinction of being the only reporter ever allowed to interview the great James Merrick. We got along well. I respected his boundaries, and he appreciated my discretion. And we both enjoyed a good scotch. I rarely leave my home these days, but when I still had a license, I would drive to the state capital to visit him now and then.” She smiled as she regarded Ethan thoughtfully. “I see that surprises you.”
“It does,” he admitted. “Until recently, I was under the impression that I was my father’s only visitor.”
“Oh, I’m sure a great many people have gone to see James over the years. He is still a source of endless fascination. Whether he received any of those visitors is another question.”
“But he agreed to see you,” Ethan said.
“Yes. As I said, we always got on. I even tried to smuggle in a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue once, but it was confiscated at the desk, more’s the pity.”<
br />
“Was he responsive when you saw him?”
“I suppose that depends on your definition.”
Addie turned to glance at Ethan’s profile. His arms rested on the curve of the chair, and he leaned forward slightly as if he were hanging on Vivian DuPriest’s every word. She would appreciate that, but he wasn’t faking interest to flatter her. He was hungry to hear about his father.
Something in his voice, the barest hint of hope, made Addie want to reach out to him. Not for the first time, she wondered what it must have been like for him as a child and then as an adolescent, living in the shadow of his father’s guilt and desperately wanting to believe in his innocence. Addie’s own childhood had been tragic. Losing her mother so violently had been devastating, and it had changed her in ways she would never fully understand. But Ethan’s loss might have been harder to accept. Harder to live with, too.
Her gaze shifted to Vivian DuPriest. The woman was something of an enigma. On the surface, she seemed like an aging, eccentric Southern belle, but Addie suspected that was only one of her many personae. Beneath the rouged cheeks and ruby lips, the hardness of a once crack reporter still glimmered through.
Idly, she stirred her tea as she continued to ponder Ethan’s question. “James never spoke to me when we visited. I did all the talking. He spent most of our time together looking out the window. He didn’t have much of a view, but he seemed captivated by it nonetheless. I used to wonder what he was thinking. His eyes even then were so expressive. Was he responsive?” she mused to herself. “No, not in the way you mean. But I always had the sense that he knew who I was. And I think there was a part of him, some small corner of his consciousness, that remained fully engaged in my chitchat.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Ethan asked.
“Oh, it’s been years. I can’t even remember the last time. So many things have happened...” She trailed away on a wistful note. “It may sound strange considering his situation, but I wouldn’t want him to see me as I am now. I was always so strong and resourceful. He admired that about me.”
Criminal Behavior--A Thrilling FBI Romance Page 17
