Killer Instinct

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Killer Instinct Page 10

by Barbara Winkes


  Lost in thought, she never noticed the man coming up behind her until she sensed a presence, and a moment later, the pressure of cold steel against her back.

  “Don’t scream, or I swear I’ll pull the trigger.”

  In a heartbeat, everything you owned could be taken away. She followed every command mechanically, her only relief that he was dragging her away from the door. Maddie and Jill, the babysitter, would be safe. That was all that mattered.

  * * * *

  Joanna was aware she might have overreacted. Learning that Rue worked for Lawrence had knocked the wind out of her, and she couldn’t bring herself to get over that first impulse and do something, call Rue, apologize.

  She had been somewhat honest at least, admitting she was working for someone whose convictions were contrary to her own, and that it weighed on her. The rest was unfortunate. She couldn’t have known how bad Joanna’s history with her father, or both her parents, was.

  Maybe it was the occasion Joanna had been waiting for, the way out before someone got hurt. The problem was, she wasn’t feeling any better, on the contrary.

  At three in the morning, three nights in a row, she was sitting up over those printouts, crying, drinking, feeling like a complete failure—again. This wasn’t doing anything for Mila, or Christina. Why couldn’t she make that connection?

  Why couldn’t she let herself be happy?

  Rue called several times, but after the third day, the calls stopped. “You know where to find me,” she said in the last message. “I feel like a stalker. If you’d like to talk to me, please call.”

  Joanna didn’t call her back, ignoring all hope and intuition. She hadn’t managed to maintain a long-term relationship in years. It was ridiculous to think that under the current circumstances, she could do better.

  There was no one she could bother with her problems. Her friends had families, lives. Unlike her, they had put the past behind them.

  She woke up like many other mornings, alone, hung over, feeling sorry for herself. Joanna spent considerable time in a long hot shower, missing a call from Kira who’d left a message, saying it was urgent.

  When Joanna called her back, Kira picked up on the first ring. At first, Joanna had trouble making sense of her words.

  “Something terrible happened!”

  Kira didn’t freak out for nothing. Joanna had an instant bad feeling about this, even before Kira said tearfully, “Tracey is missing. The police called me because they found my name in her day planner, and…”

  “What? Kira, calm down. Tell me everything you know.”

  Joanna realized the phone in her hand was shaking. This couldn’t happen. Tracey, like herself, wasn’t the slasher’s type. He always went for younger women, then again…Tracey had gone back to school and graduated recently. What if he and Grace were changing their MO?

  “She didn’t come home from work. People saw her leave there, and…that’s all I know. Joanna, what are we gonna do?”

  The question chilled Joanna to her bones. It implied that Kira was thinking of, fearing the same thing.

  “I’ll go over there before work, see if I can find out something. I’ll call you if I find anything, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Joanna found out half an hour later that she wasn’t familiar with the cops at Tracey’s house, and they had no intention of letting her in. She called Theo and got his partner Allison Kato instead.

  “Can I talk to him? It’s urgent.”

  “Joanna.” Theo sounded resigned, and that was enough to set off alarm bells.

  “You found her? Is she okay?”

  “What are you talking about?” Now, resignation was creeping into his tone.

  “Tracey Miller. She’s missing, and she’s a friend of mine. What makes you think it’s not related?”

  “What makes you think it is? There’s an investigation, but as far as I know, Miller didn’t hook up with couples after work. There’s no reason to assume—”

  “Please. You can’t rule it out, okay? You know that this has become personal a while ago. I’m on their radar.”

  “I’m afraid that’s true, so I’d appreciate it if you let me do my job. I’m sorry about your friend, but everyone is doing the best they can. Later, Joanna.”

  Another night, another nightmare, only the stakes had risen. She had never felt so useless.

  How could he and Grace know, unless they had been following her every step right from the start?

  Joanna printed out a map, marking the places where Christina and Tracey lived, where Christina had been held, where Felicity was murdered. It was all random. They worked with opportunity, an abandoned house, a noisy motel. Still no word on their means of transportation.

  She didn’t know what to do, other than drown once more in the memories.

  * * * *

  In the morning, Kato called her. It wasn’t much of a surprise to Joanna when she said,

  “An officer let me know you were at Tracey Miller’s apartment, asking about her.”

  “Don’t tell me I should step away. This is my friend we’re talking about.” Joanna had a guilty moment acknowledging that she wouldn’t have met Tracey again if it wasn’t for Kira’s party. Probably, she wouldn’t have made the effort.

  It didn’t matter now.

  Detective Kato sighed. “Slow down for a moment, okay? It’s not him who took her.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because we found her.”

  “What? Where? I need to—”

  “Joanna, breathe. She’ll be okay, but she doesn’t want to see anyone at the moment, and I hope you respect that. It was her ex—he waited for her at the front door, pulled a gun on her and made her come with him.”

  “Oh God.”

  “He slapped her, and yelled at her for leaving him.” Allison’s tone revealed her disgust clearly. She sounded more resigned when she continued. “She feels ashamed. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “I’d call it sad. What about Maddie? Is she okay?”

  “The babysitter stayed with her until Tracey’s mom could take her. It won’t be long before Tracey can go home. As for the guy, we put him away. We found drugs and unregistered weapons in the apartment, so he won’t bother her in the near future.”

  Joanna bit her lip. She knew Tracey didn’t have the best of relationships with her mother, but at least she had shown up.

  “All right. Thank you.”

  “No problem. She needs some space right now. She’ll call you when she’s ready.”

  “Okay.”

  Joanna remained standing in the same spot for a moment, then gave in to a lesser impulse and punched the wall, her knuckles stinging instantly. He won’t bother her in the near future. What about a few years down the line? She feels ashamed. Why was it that women kept carrying that burden when they had done nothing to bring this kind of situation upon them?

  * * * *

  Joanna felt ashamed, too, for her life slipping out of her control bit by bit. She did her work shifts mechanically, coming home to drink and obsess, on the case, the world in general, the chance she might have had with Rue, and blown. Too little too late to blame any of it on her absent parents.

  She fell asleep on the couch before midnight, woken again by the phone.

  “Leave me alone,” she mumbled to no one, but picked up anyway, too late. The answering machine had already picked up.

  “Hey, I’m Jeff.”

  “Good for you. Wrong number.” She was about to delete the message, when the next words made her reconsider.

  “I’m the bartender at The Copper Door. You asked to tell me if that certain lady came around. Well, she did.”

  For long moments, she just sat and listened to the message, twice, three times. She should have done something, get up and go talk to him, call Theo and inform him about a possible lead, but Joanna lacked the energy to do any of it. The confrontation with the past, again and again in recent days, had drained her. She wa
nted to keep hiding, from the world, her failures, but of course that wasn’t an option. It never had been.

  She pushed herself off from the couch and put on her coat to walk to The Copper Door. It was probably closed for cleaning at this time, but Jeff had said she could find him there until three a.m. It was four minutes to three when she arrived, shivering because as usual, she hadn’t bothered with a scarf or gloves. The place was dark, just a couple of cars in the lot, the street empty at this time of night. Joanna wondered briefly if this was a trap, and “Jeff” was actually in on the plan. It wasn’t like she’d ever learned the bartender’s name in the first place. Somebody might have overheard her talking to him or…

  “Hey. Joanna it is, right?”

  Apparently, he was more observant than she had been.

  “Jeff. You said you had news about the girl?”

  “Yeah, she stopped by earlier. Changed her hair too, she’s a redhead now. She mentioned that she’d like to see you again.”

  “What did you tell her?” Joanna asked, alarmed.

  “Nothing. She brought it up, said you’d forgotten to exchange phone numbers.” His tone was devoid of judgment. He had probably seen it all.

  “Do you know where I can find her?”

  “She said she’s staying with a friend, but if you come around every once in a while, she’d try to catch up with you.”

  “Think. This is important. Did she mention the friend’s name, or any hint as to where she is now?”

  “Wow, you’re eager to find her. I’m sorry, no. You said to call in case she showed up.”

  “Yeah, thank you for that.” Joanna pulled her coat tighter around her. “When exactly was she here? Did you see if she had a car? Went with someone?”

  “Hey, slow down. I work here, remember? I listen to the stories people tell me, but where they’re going afterwards is none of my business. She was here around midnight. I called you when I had a moment. I can’t tell you anything else. If you’ll excuse me now?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Thanks again.”

  He unlocked one of the cars with his key, climbed inside and drove away. Joanna stood in the same place, cursing herself and the world in general. Three hours. Grace could be anywhere by now. She had no doubt that everything she’d told Jeff was some sort of message. If she wanted to see Joanna again, it certainly wasn’t for socializing. She was playing a game. It was dangerous for her and her partner to stay in town, yet she couldn’t seem to stay away. If part of that temptation had to do with Joanna, so be it. The longer they hung around, the more likely it was for the police to catch them. After all, Theo didn’t inform Joanna about every new development. She had to let him know, in any case—and then go back to her cold, lonely world. Or maybe not in that order.

  She could have called Rue…That probably wasn’t a good idea, considering the time of night, and Grace’s message. Once this mess was cleared up, maybe there would be a chance to talk to her again. Joanna wasn’t so sure.

  Back home, she left a message for Theo, then went back to the printouts still spread out all over the place. California. Grace. Jeff. The slasher. She wished she’d still had the resources that were available to her in her old job. As it was, she had become a wannabe, an amateur trying to make do. That went for her professional life in particular, but also for the rest of it. She couldn’t seem to win.

  Joanna finished the bottle of vodka with resentful thoughts of her father and Decker who had made such a mess of what had once seemed a promising path, and finally fell asleep past five a.m, when the phone rang.

  “Hey, friend,” Theo said, his tone unusually cheery. “Thank you. I want you to know I love you.”

  “What the—” Her head hurt. “Are you drunk?”

  That should have been his question.

  “I’m elated. Get up and get your ass over here. I have something to show you.”

  “Tone it down, please. What’s going on?”

  “We’ve done pretty good work if I may say so, but your tips were the icing on the cake. It’s almost over. We found Grace Lester.”

  “What?” Joanna sat up abruptly, holding her head the next moment. “What about the guy?”

  “Not yet, but she’ll soon realize that giving him up is her only chance. I want you here. You might be able to help us.”

  “Me? How?”

  “She likes you. I know you can be very convincing, and with your history…” For the first time, his tone was a bit more sober, almost apologetic. “It’s worth a shot. She might go for it.”

  “What are you saying, that she and I have something in common?”

  “It’s not what I was saying, but she might see it that way. I want you here in no more than fifteen minutes.”

  “Sheesh, relax, I’m not getting paid for this anymore.”

  “Yet, you can’t stay away.”

  “I guess that’s true. I’ll see you in a few.”

  Joanna disconnected the call, almost managing a smile, but only until she went to the bathroom and saw her face in the mirror. The past days of binging and feeling sorry for herself showed in the most unattractive ways. She took a deep breath. Maybe Grace would be a little more open if she thought Joanna had missed her badly. Funny how she had gone from the department’s biggest disappointment, persona non grata, to someone whose help they could use. Joanna was careful to think her luck could have changed. Every time, she’d ended up in a space worse then before. It was better not to hope altogether.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rue felt like living on the edge. All her life, playing it safe, avoiding conflicts at all costs, had it really served her?

  Joanna was ignoring her calls. Rue still had no idea what exactly had gone wrong. She had kept one little detail from Joanna, true. She’d thought it didn’t matter all that much when Mitchell never talked about his daughter—or his family, for that matter.

  She had learned via the company gossip that he was dating a younger woman, a conservative political consultant she’d seen at the office a few times. Rue had a hard time understanding why he felt so entitled to mess with other people’s families when his own was hardly a model, but in the years she’d worked for him, she had learned to smile and keep her thoughts to herself.

  She wasn’t sure she could do this any longer. The need for change and atonement had haunted her even before she’d met Joanna in the dingy bar, but it was now stronger than ever. Rue had a couple of job interviews lined up. There was a chance for her to leave quietly, without stirring up things that were better left untouched.

  She wanted answers though, to understand what happened between her and Joanna. Rue had contemplated the conversation a few times in her head, sure she’d never go all the way, because that would be…crazy.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” It was long after hours, and she and Mitchell were the only ones left at the office. She had made coffee for both of them, a task that still fell on her and always would.

  Lawrence Mitchell looked up from his impressive teak desk. There were no personal photos on it, just folders, balances and the occasional file of an employee. While making record profits, the company had a high employee turnover.

  “Since I’m obviously ruining your holidays, I think one personal question is fair,” he said, smiling good-naturedly. “Sit.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She was likely to commit career suicide. Even with the upcoming interviews, she’d take a pay cut. Rue had been waiting so long, she was afraid that if she didn’t take that step soon, she’d work for Mitchell’s until retirement. Even so, it was a gamble. “I met your daughter recently.”

  Mitchell gave no indication how this affected him, if at all. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. I was just wondering…”

  “Curious,” he substituted.

  “That too. I imagine it must have been difficult for you.”

  For the first time since she had brought up the subject, Mitchell showed a flicker of emotion.

  “Difficult? My de
ar Rue, you have no idea. How do you think a father reacts in that situation? She probably told you a very different version of the story, but no matter what she is saying these days, I always tried to help her. She rejected all of it, refused to come to her senses. I did the only thing I could do.”

  “I saw some of the articles. I can’t even begin to think…”

  To her surprise, he laughed, shaking his head. Rue detected a hint of bitterness.

  “What? No, I didn’t care what they wrote. Decker was one deranged individual. I’m fine with the fact that she blew that bastard away. Problem is, before and after prison, she refused to give up her immoral lifestyle. I only had her best interests in mind, but she never wanted to listen, and look at her now, hauling around crates at a warehouse, no husband, no children.”

  Rue tried not to cringe too hard—after all, she had no husband or children to present either, and she found Mitchell’s attitude disgusting…but she still had to hold out for a few days.

  “Well, not every woman wants children. Maybe she actually is happy.”

  If Joanna wasn’t, it had little to do with her sexual orientation.

  “Happy? She might delude herself into thinking that, but it’s sick. She’ll wake up one day and realize that, but then it’ll be too late.”

  “So you think I’m sick too?”

  For a few seconds, there was a silent standoff. Rue held her breath, thinking it was no secret any longer how exactly she’d met Joanna. In a heartbeat, she had confirmed all of Mitchell’s stereotypes—and he could actually fire her for it, if he wanted to. Who was she kidding? He had cut off his own daughter.

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Frankly, I don’t want to know, about you, or Joanna. Why don’t you call it a night and come back tomorrow with a fresh perspective, and never ask me about her again?”

  There was a clear warning to his words. Rue ignored all the red flags.

  “You never went to see her in prison because she’s a lesbian? That’s cold. Why would you do that to her…to yourself, choose ideology over your own blood?”

  “That’s enough!” Lawrence Mitchell raised his voice just enough to make her flinch. “This is none of your darn business, lady. Stay out of it, I’m warning you. You could be out on the street today, and I could make it very difficult for you to even get a job interview in this town. I think it’s best you go home and calm down.”

 

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