Dead Ringers

by Camilla Chafer

  Dropping my phone, I took advantage of Daisy and Mike in the pool to enjoy the bathroom all to myself. The shower was hot and steamy, and the complimentary toiletries imbued it with a luxurious extravagance I wouldn't normally have afforded myself. By the time I dressed and was towel-drying my hair, a knock came from the front door. I padded over barefoot to answer it, finding a very tall, very broad, bald man in a suit standing there.

  "I'm here for Ms. Costa," he said, holding out a thick hand. His suit jacket shifted slightly, revealing a bulge at his hip. He was armed. "I'm Tomas Waite, the bodyguard. Here's the paperwork and my ID. She's expecting me but we haven't been introduced." He handed me a laminated card and an envelope.

  "Do you mind waiting in the lobby while I verify this with Ms. Costa?" I asked. I returned his ID and he tucked it into a pocket.

  "No problem. You can call me on this number when she's ready and she can call my boss too if she wishes. Everything is in the email the studio should have sent her," he said as he handed me a card before striding away.

  I watched him, contemplating whether to leave Daisy to enjoy herself, or do the right thing, which was to ensure she now had her bodyguard. The latter won my internal argument and I pulled on my sneakers, walking over to the pool.

  When Daisy and Mike saw me approaching, they swam over to the side of the pool.

  "Where's your suit?" asked Mike, flicking water at me. I was tempted to flick some back but thought better of it since I'd probably end up in the water.

  "I wish," I said, waving the business card so Daisy could reach out. "Your bodyguard is waiting in the lobby."

  "Looks like vacation is over," said Mike, nudging her.

  "Maybe not. I've already decided to stay a few more days. I don't feel comfortable going home and there are a lot of things to be done before I will."

  "I can help you get the locks changed," I offered. "I can call someone and stay while they do the work before you go back there."

  "The building management will do that. I'll ask my assistant to arrange for cleaning my clothing after I pick up a few items I need for work. I can't believe I left my scripts behind. There are a few more things I'll want while staying here."

  "You can come and stay with me," I told her. "You can have my room and I'll get an airbed fixed up in the living room."

  Daisy squeezed my hand. "I am so lucky to have friends like you guys but I won't hear of putting you out another night. You've already done enough to make me feel safe by staying overnight with me."

  "Yeah," snorted Mike as he treaded water. "This really was awful."

  "Would you like me to come and help you collect your things?" I offered.

  Daisy shook her head. "I'll be okay with Tomas. The studio already sent me his photo and all his details. Besides, who do I need to fear with that wall of muscle to protect me?"

  "He is pretty huge," I agreed.

  "It would be nice if you guys came by later." Daisy paused and pushed back her thick braid. "You know what really weirds me out?"

  "What?" asked Mike and I at the same time.

  "I can't work out how someone got in. Security is normally super tight. I've lived there for years without any problem. It's not like anyone can stroll in through the front door and just take the elevator to my apartment. I asked the supervisor to look into it. I won't feel safe there until they tell me how someone got in before making sure it never happens again."

  "I can cancel my gig tonight if you need company," said Mike.

  "I have a better idea," said Daisy as she pushed another wet strand from her face. "Why don't I come to your gig?"

  "Because I want people to look at me, not you." Mike stuck his tongue out at her. "I'm kidding! Come along. I'll put you both on the guest list. You in, Shayne?"

  "Of course. I'll put up with your singing for Daisy," I teased. Mike responded with a big splash of water and I had to jump back.

  "You'll have to put Tomas on the guest list too," Daisy said, reminding us that this was not a typical night out for her.

  "The more the merrier," chirped Mike.

  "And Jenna because she won't want to miss out," I added.

  "Done! What about Ashleigh?"

  "Still chasing bad guys."

  "You'd think she'd have caught them all by now. They're not Pokémon," said Mike.

  Daisy pulled herself out of the pool with a launch and a twist before perching on the edge, her legs still partially submerged. "I better go and introduce myself to Tomas and get my stuff. Shall we meet back here later, after work?" she asked. "We could have dinner again?"

  "I have to go directly to the gig. Why I don't I text you guys the details and I'll meet you there?" suggested Mike.

  "Sure," agreed Daisy. "Shayne, you're welcome to enjoy the facilities here as long as you want to."

  "I should really do some work too," I decided. Daisy's offer was tempting but I felt weird about enjoying myself on her dime, especially after her scare last night. "If you need anymore help or moral support for the day, just call me and I'll be there."

  "I'm sure I'll be fine. The bodyguard is huge, right? No one is going to get past him!"

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I called Martha and told her I wouldn't be in the office all day. I justified my absence easily: being there wasn't totally necessary and I could work just as well remotely. However, I only said the last part to Martha. Then, as I counted my yawns while Mike drove us home from the hotel, I realized I was very tired from the late night. A day at home would actually be a good thing. Not to mention, I could also avoid Ben who was currently monopolizing my thoughts. With a sad sigh, I realized I didn't want to break up. I liked being with Ben. I enjoyed spending time with him; he was fun, interesting and he made my heart thump. Until our last date, I thought we had a promising relationship, maybe even a solid future. Grabbing my story, Gabi’s interference, and subsequently avoiding me put all of that into question, but by avoiding him now, was I merely prolonging the inevitable? At some point, I would have to grow a pair of ovaries and actually talk to him. Until then, I was hiding.

  When we got home, we went different directions. Mike had to check on a problem one of the tenants raised, and I went to my apartment. I opened my laptop, which was better than wallowing in my insecure thoughts. There were a couple of emails from Martha with dictated suggestions for obituaries of recently deceased but only slightly notable persons; however nothing appeared so urgent or exciting that I wanted to write any of them immediately. There were a couple of interesting tips from contacts I was cultivating for my entertainment column. I flagged some as interesting enough to add and I responded to a couple of other emails. By the time I finished, my mind returned to the story I was currently flunking. Yet I couldn't shake it.

  Hayden suggested I look through my notes again. Perhaps I needed to start from the beginning? I spent too much time chasing false leads. First, Coral Nichols and then Ryan Ellison. Perhaps I needed to redirect my inquiries entirely. If Daisy were the lynch pin to all of this — and I couldn't shake the unmistakable physical similarities between her and the victims — my investigation should center on her. There had to be something amongst her bags of crazy hate mail that would steer me towards the killer unless he was too smart for that? I sat heavily on my couch and sighed. Of course, he was too smart. He wouldn't risk leaving a trail to his obsession. That was how he managed to get away with it for so long, by being completely untraceable.

  Only, he wasn't. He was connected to Danika, Anna, Bonnie, April, and Sammy somehow. My mind spun with all the possibilities and stuck on one: Ashleigh's suspect. She feared she had to let him go. What if I could help her pin him to at least one of the girls?

  I called Ashleigh, left a message, and a few minutes later, she returned my call. Immediately, I knew she didn't have good news.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "I was just going to call you. We let him go. It's not him."

  "You're sure?"

  "As sure as ca
n be. This hasn't hit the news yet but Sammy Turturro was found. I just got to the crime scene."

  "What?!" I yelled, leaping to my feet. "Is she…"

  "Dead," said Ashleigh. "The ME just declared it. It looks like she was dumped only a few hours ago. A couple of mountain bikers found her."

  My heart sank. We were too late. I was too late. I spent my night comforting Daisy while Sammy went through hell. I took my eye off the case and now it was too late to save her. "I really hoped we could find her in time," I choked out the words, now utterly appalled.

  "Me too."

  "Is that why you let your suspect go?"

  "I had no choice. As soon as his lawyer got the tipoff, she argued that we couldn't hold him. She was right. He couldn't have done it since he was in our custody."

  "But a partner could have done it to ensure his freedom," I said.

  "Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can charge him for Sammy’s murder. We didn't have a choice. He walked."

  "Was it the same as the others?" I asked without needing to specify exactly what I meant.

  "Yeah. I haven't gotten a good look at the body yet, but it looks vicious… Shayne, hold on…" Ashleigh went quiet but I could hear shouts and then muffled speech as if Ashleigh were talking to someone close by. "I gotta go," she said when she returned to the line. "The EMTs were just moving Sammy and they heard her murmur. She's still alive."

  "How can she be dead then alive?!" My heart raced. Did I hear Ashleigh correctly? What if it were an error?

  "Her pulse is so weak, it's barely there. The ME screwed up in announcing the TOD. We have to race to the hospital and I'm not sure she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. I'll call you later. And Shayne?"

  "Not a word," I finished for her.

  "I'll call you later," she said again, her voice already distant before she was gone.

  My heart thudded. Sammy wasn't dead! The killer clearly thought she was and dumped her since a dead woman was no use to him. Of course, my hopes remained small given the danger of the situation. There was no guarantee Sammy could survive the trip to the hospital and even if she did, could she make it through surgery? Her recovery could be long and uncertain. She might be able to identify her attacker or offer some clues but my hope remained low. If she died, how long would it be before he took another victim? Months? Weeks? Days?

  And what happened when he realized Sammy wasn't dead? Would he try a second time to kill her? Or would he resort to even more drastic measures to ensure her silence?

  I was sure Ashleigh had already thought of those questions and I didn't want to disturb her again at such a critical moment, so instead, I got to my feet. I had work to do. First, I added all the new information and questions to my murder board, marking large question marks against Ashleigh's prior unnamed suspect. I thought about everything Ashleigh told me: how the kidnappings were becoming more frequent and the violence in the murders was escalating. From what I knew, Bonnie was found before April went missing. April was found not long after Sammy went missing. Did their attacker keep April and Sammy together before realizing he needed to get rid of one? Had the killer already found his next victim? Is that why he dumped his previous captive?

  There was no way I could ask around without sparking absolute panic. Plus, if the killer had already taken his next victim, I was too late to prevent it. Unless Sammy regained consciousness long enough to provide Ashleigh with a name or at least a description, how could I ever find them? Maybe I could still find the connection.

  I had to think. I must have been missing something.

  The photos in Hayden's studio swam back into my head. In all my worry of yesterday, I forgot about it. A couple of the models resembled Anna and April. Neither photo was one I'd seen before since they weren't taken by either model nor their social media nor part of a campaign. Could Hayden confirm it was them? There were several other people in the photos. If Hayden couldn't recall the details, perhaps he knew one of the others who could identify the women for certain? Maybe one of them remembered who was on the crew that day. If I had more names, new names, I could conceivably identify a new suspect. Just like when I found Coral, I needed to broaden my search.

  I tried calling Hayden but it went straight to his messaging service. I figured he was probably on a shoot somewhere or maybe even keeping up with his own work. Since he didn't live too far away from me, I decided to drop by his studio and check to see if he were there working, probably with his phone off. If it were another wild goose chase, I would know soon enough.

  Less than half an hour later, I parked outside Hayden's house. I couldn't see his car on the driveway but that wasn't a firm indicator he wasn't home. I took the path around his house, skirting the patio furniture, and knocked on the studio door. When I knocked a second time and still got no answer, I peeked through the windows. There was no indication anyone had been inside today. No half drunk cups of coffee, no half eaten snacks. The camera equipment was all tidied up and the props were all put away. I could also see that the darkroom door was closed but Hayden said he always left it that way.

  Digging out my phone, I called him again. This time, he answered.

  "Hey, Shayne. How's it going?"

  "Good! I just dropped by your studio in case you were home. I wanted your help with something."

  "Is it about redoing the shoot? I took another look through the photos yesterday and they were fine. Plenty of usable shots and a couple of humorous ones with your eyes half closed and slightly gurning if you want those too. I think you should keep them but I'm happy to reshoot you at the end of the week, if that works? I thought we could try something more natural? Maybe at the park or the beach?"

  "That's great. The first part, anyway. I don't think I need to see the second part, and yes to the reshoot. Whatever you think will work, but I'm actually calling about something else."

  "I'm out right now, running errands and later meeting a client so I won't be home until some time this afternoon. Can it wait until then?"

  I checked my watch. It was already mid-afternoon. "I guess so."

  "You sound tense. Is your friend okay?”

  “Yes, she is. Her bodyguard arrived this morning so I feel a lot better now.”

  “I’m happy to hear that. Is everything else okay?"

  "All's fine. Actually, everything is great. I expect to get a break in the story I'm investigating very soon."

  "That's great news! How come? Did you get that talent agent to confess? Or was it the producer?"

  I frowned, wondering what he was talking about until I remembered the half-story I pitched to him to avoid telling him the truth. But what did it hurt? Hayden wouldn’t try to steal my story. "It's actually connected to the young woman that was found in the canyon. Only she wasn't the first victim and today, another body turned up, dumped just like the others. Only, get this. She isn't dead," I told him.

  "No way! That sounds like a huge story."

  "I know, right? The killer really screwed up."

  "Wow! And the victim is awake? Talking?"

  "Not yet but I'm sure it's only a matter of time."

  "That's terrific news, Shayne. You're going to get one hell of a headline out of that. Listen, I have to run but why don't you come by later? Say at around six? I can help you with whatever you need then and you can fill me in on the story."

  "You're the best! Thanks, Hayden."

  "Anything for a pal."

  We disconnected and I turned away from the studio, walking back to my car. On the way, I dialed Daisy to check if she was okay. I hoped the police were useful and watched the footage from the security cameras in the area or even interviewed the other residents. I didn't like the idea of Daisy feeling unsafe in her own home but at least she had the huge bodyguard, Tomas, to keep her safe. I wondered if he provided twenty-four-hour service. Daisy didn't answer so I disconnected and texted her a short message to let her know I was checking in and hoped she was okay. After a glance at my watch, I was pretty sure she was s
till on set so she might not see my message for hours.

  I got a message from Mike asking if I'd heard from Daisy so I texted him no and then decided to call Ashleigh for an update. When I didn't get through, I figured the next best thing was to try and find her at the hospital.

  ~

  The hospital was a sprawling maze and it took a long time to locate Ashleigh. When she saw me approach in the corridor, she left the two uniformed officers she spoke with and walked towards me. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "I was in the neighborhood."

  Ashleigh narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

  "I was in LA. Close enough. How is Sammy doing?"

  "She's in surgery now. She survived the ride here obviously, but she lost a lot of blood and some of the knife wounds caused severe damage. She has a collapsed lung and broken ribs among other internal injuries."

  I gasped. "Is she going to make it?"

  "They can't even give her odds."

  "That poor woman."

  "She did manage to speak a few words in the ambulance. I couldn't make much sense of it." Ashleigh hesitated and I waited. "Perhaps you can?"

  I nodded, pleased that she was willing to ask. "I'll try."

  "She said something like 'toe graph' and then, when I asked her to repeat it she said it again."