by Karen Rose
‘Then you went back to a place you hated to give them the news about their son.’
‘That pretty well sums it up.’
‘Not entirely,’ he said and she frowned.
‘What else do you want to know?’
He cast a sideways glance. ‘After your fiancé died, was there anyone else?’
Lucy looked away, too tired to even go there. ‘We’re almost in town.’
‘I guess that means you don’t want to answer my question.’
‘You tell me about your buddies and I’ll tell you about mine.’
He made an annoyed sound. ‘How many “buddies” did you have?’
The Welcome to Anderson Ferry sign approached, then disappeared behind her. ‘After Heath, two. You met one of them yesterday morning, slumped over a chess table. Where did you want to go first? Sheriff, Mr Bennett, or newspaper?’
‘Sheriff’s office,’ he said, much more calmly.
She pointed ahead, the bracelet dangling. ‘Then turn right at this intersection.’
‘All right. Do me a favor, change the bracelet to your right arm.’
‘Because I’ll shake Sonny’s hand with my right,’ she said, bracing herself to see him again. And to see her parents again. Deep down, she’d known she’d have to.
Tuesday, May 4, 1.30 P.M.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa in his living room, Clay was slowly bringing his fury under control. No longer boiling, he felt ice cold inside. Nicki. Stabbed, gutted, throat slit. Left to rot.
‘Evan was here in Baltimore last week and as recently as last night,’ he said.
‘In Nicki’s apartment,’ Alyssa murmured. He’d brought Alyssa here, not wanting to risk leaving her alone at the office. Not until he’d found Evan. ‘I’m sorry. I know you were close.’
‘She was my first partner in DCPD. We rode patrol together. She was smart, and good at her job. I don’t understand how Evan caught her sleeping like that.’
Alyssa hesitated, then drew a sheet of paper from her purse. It was a photograph printed on a computer and Clay sighed. It was Evan, sleeping in a bed. Clay recognized the coffee mug on Nicki’s nightstand – he’d given it to her himself. ‘Goddammit,’ he said wearily. ‘When did you find this?’
‘While you were resting. I was reviewing the files on the laptop you took from her safe. She sent it to herself two months ago.’
‘Two months?’ Clay felt sick. ‘Dammit.’
‘I thought you’d want to know,’ Alyssa said tentatively.
Clay rubbed his eyes again. ‘This explains a lot, especially the missed clues. She didn’t want to see them. So we know how he got into her place. Why that night?’
‘Maybe she started to suspect him. That he’d lied to her.’
‘Maybe. How could she have been so fucking stupid?’
‘Because he’s a good liar,’ Alyssa said softly. ‘Even you believed his story about not being able to go to the cops. That the woman who was stalking him had a powerful daddy on the force.’ She bit her lip, hesitating, then shrugged. ‘He could have picked you and Nicki because he thought you’d be sympathetic to his situation.’
Clay nodded, unable to speak. She was right. He closed his eyes, bile rising to burn his throat. God help me. ‘I let my own bias blind me. Now three people are dead.’
He stood, began to pace. ‘We know he was in Newport News a week ago. That’s when he killed the cop and the pole dancer because they got greedy. Then he came back and . . .’ He drew a breath, pushed the image of Nicki from his mind, focusing instead on the man who’d slept in her bed before he’d killed her. ‘We know he was at the Orion Hotel last night.’
‘He could be at his Ted Gamble apartment.’
‘He never claimed his key, but that doesn’t mean he’s not there.’ Clay stopped to stare out the window. Why is he doing this? Why the scam? ‘He wanted the identity.’
‘A new start,’ Alyssa murmured.
‘He’s here in the city for a reason. I doubt he’d stick around a whole week after killing Nicki for softshell crabs,’ Clay said. ‘He didn’t go to his Gamble apartment. That’s over an hour’s drive. He’s here, somewhere.’
‘Why? Why not take the new identity and run?’
‘Maybe Nicki knew why.’ He turned to find Alyssa’s eyes trained on him. ‘Evan could be anywhere in the city. Without a reason for him staying, we’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Let’s find where Nicki went in the days before he killed her.’
Chapter Eighteen
Tuesday, May 4, 1.50 P.M.
Stevie and Dr Berman were waiting for them in front of the sheriff’s office. The older man shielded his eyes as JD and Lucy approached, she with the duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She’d put her purse inside it to consolidate what she carried, but had refused to leave it in the car, afraid it would get tied up in another crime scene. JD couldn’t blame her.
‘So this is Dr Trask. I’ve heard much about you,’ Berman said with a smile.
‘It’s nice to meet you. I’m sure Stevie passed on what Detective Fitzpatrick told her in the car. What do you think?’
‘I think you are our key, my dear. I think your brother and his friends knew or did something for which they are being hunted. You could merely be a substitute for your brother or you could be involved, albeit unwittingly.’ Berman brought her hand close to his face and examined the bracelet’s charm. ‘Was your brother the type to give you gifts?’
Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at JD. ‘You don’t think this was supposed to be mine.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Berman averred.
‘But you think it and so does Detective Fitzpatrick.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I guess we’ll find out.’
Stevie tapped JD’s shoulder as Lucy and Berman started up the stairs to the police station. ‘We have other problems.’
JD looked down at her, forcing his focus away from Lucy. ‘Like what?’
‘Like Tory Reading just called me. She’s in Ryan Agar’s room, but he’s not.’
‘Shit. Where was she doing her surveillance?’
‘Outside in her car like she was told to do. She said one of the waiters remembered Agar. He met with another man for breakfast, but didn’t look well. The other man helped him to the elevators. In the Peabody those elevators can go up to the rooms or down to the parking garage.’
‘Shit,’ JD snapped again. ‘We never should have let him out of our sight.’
‘In hindsight, you’re right. At the time, he wasn’t a suspect. We couldn’t hold him.’
‘So what’s Tory doing now?’
‘Checking the security tapes to see if any of them show Ryan. She’ll get back to us.’ Stevie pointed to Berman and Lucy, who were just climbing the last stair. ‘Let’s meet Sheriff Westcott and hope he grew out of his asshole-ishness.’
JD snorted. ‘Having met his mama, I don’t think you’ll get your wish.’ He took the stairs in a jog and opened the heavy door for Lucy and Berman. Lucy gave him a look that was both thanks and a plea. ‘It’ll be fine,’ he murmured. JD hoped he hadn’t lied.
Behind the counter was an older woman whose nameplate said Gladys Strough, Clerk. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I hope so,’ JD said. ‘I’m Detective Fitzpatrick, Baltimore Homicide. This is my partner, Detective Mazzetti. Is Sheriff Westcott in?’
‘Oh, you’re here about the Bennett boy. Tragic,’ Strough said. ‘The sheriff is in. I’ll tell him you’re here and see if he’s got time to see you.’
A few moments later a wide-shouldered, barrel-chested man in a uniform emerged from a back office. He looked older than his thirty-nine years, his face jowly and his hair thinning. He scanned their faces, lingering longest on Lucy’s, his eyes narrowing.
JD watched placidly, although he seethed on the inside. From the corner of his eye he saw Berman cover the hand with which Lucy gripped his arm. Now no one could see Lucy’s white knuckles nor the bracelet around her wrist. Good for Lennie B.
‘I heard you’d come back,’ Westcott said to Lucy a little too softly, then turned to JD with a brusque nod. ‘I understand you’ve had a murder in the city. Russ Bennett.’
JD nodded, still placidly. ‘Yes. Malcolm Edwards is dead too.’
‘We heard about that weeks ago. Old news, Detective. Edwards was lost at sea.’
‘About midnight we found another body, left much like Dr Bennett’s had been,’ JD said evenly. ‘This morning we identified the remains as belonging to Janet Gordon.’
Gladys Strough sucked in a startled breath. ‘Dear Lord.’
Westcott frowned down at her. ‘Who?’
‘Janet Agar,’ she whispered. ‘Dan Gordon was her third husband.’
There had been a moment, right after Strough had said Agar’s name, that Westcott stiffened. But his reaction only lasted a split second and he went back to the guarded nonchalance with which he’d greeted them. ‘Why?’ he asked.
‘We’re not sure,’ Stevie said. ‘We think one of the reasons was to lure her son from his home in Colorado. Ryan arrived in Baltimore this morning.’
JD could see the wheels turning in Westcott’s eyes. ‘How did he know?’ Westcott asked. ‘If you didn’t ID her until this morning, how did Ryan know to come?’
‘We believe Janet’s killer called him,’ JD said. ‘And now Ryan is missing too.’
Lucy’s head swung so that she stared at him wide-eyed, but she said nothing.
Westcott paled, but didn’t flinch. ‘Maybe he made the ID and went home. Ryan and his mama didn’t get along.’ He glanced at Lucy. ‘You know how that is, Dr Trask.’
‘I do indeed,’ she murmured. ‘Times two. I don’t get along with my mama or yours.’
‘Some of us just aren’t sociable,’ Westcott said, making JD want to hit him. Or wish Lucy would. That would be entertaining. Westcott turned back to JD. ‘I’m sorry for your rash of murders, son, but they’re out of my jurisdiction. As you are out of yours.’
‘This is a courtesy call,’ JD said. ‘We’re going to be talking to various folks around town and we wanted you to know we were here.’ He caught Lucy’s eye and gave her a tiny nod.
Like a pro, she smiled and extended her hand to Westcott. ‘It’s been a pleasure to see you again, Sonny.’ Westcott took her hand and she shook firmly, making the bracelet jangle. ‘I guess sometimes you can go home again,’ she added softly.
Westcott stiffened, his eyes dropping to her wrist. He looked back up, his cheeks a dark, unattractive red. ‘Do you have an alibi for Bennett’s murder, Lucy?’
‘I do,’ she said, not breaking eye contact with him. ‘Do you?’
Westcott’s jaw tightened and he carefully dropped her hand before taking a step back. ‘I have business to attend to, if you’ll excuse me.’
‘Not yet,’ Lucy said quietly. ‘Something happened here, in this town, Sonny. Something that involved Bennett, Edwards, Agar, quite possibly you, quite possibly my brother, and somehow, most definitely, me. What happened?’
Westcott’s eyes glittered with undisguised malice. ‘I could sue you for slander.’
‘I have a good lawyer,’ she said. ‘Go right ahead. But first answer my question.’
‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ he said and headed to his office.
‘I’d be careful, were I you, Sheriff Westcott,’ she called softly after him. ‘Or you might end up on my table too.’
He shot her one last very threatening look, then slammed his office door.
Lucy led them out, not exhaling until she was at the foot of the stairs. The look she shot JD was miserable and now that it was over, she was trembling. ‘I hate this place,’ she whispered fiercely.
He took her hands in his, unsurprised to find them freezing cold. ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘But you did great, Lucy. Really, really great.’
‘Indeed,’ Berman said, puffing a little from the stairs. ‘Well played, my dear. We got a reaction. He definitely knows something.’
‘But he’s not going to say. Yet anyway,’ Stevie said. ‘What next, Lucy?’
She straightened her spine. ‘We talk to the old sheriff. Come with me.’
Tuesday, May 4, 2.20 P.M.
They followed Lucy down Main Street. Quickly buildings became farther apart, revealing the Bay. With Stevie, Berman and JD behind her, Lucy turned into a marina with a dozen docks. The smallest boat was at the end of the boardwalk. A man stood on the deck, hands on his hips. Watching them.
A very bad feeling skittered down JD’s spine. A glance at Berman and Stevie showed that they too felt the tension in the air.
No, JD thought. Just . . . no. Don’t let it be what I think this is.
JD followed her until she stopped, halfway down the dock. She slid the duffle bag to the dock and waited, her hands at her sides. The man stared at her for a very long minute before mounting the steps from his boat to the dock which rumbled under his feet as he approached.
He was a big man, with broad shoulders and ice-blue eyes that could have drilled through steel. He said nothing as he and Lucy locked gazes and then JD knew for sure.
Oh, Lucy. Honey.
‘These people are from the city,’ she said to the man, bypassing any greeting. ‘They want to talk to you. They are Detectives Fitzpatrick and Mazzetti and Dr Berman, their profiler.’ Her tone became lightly mocking. ‘Everyone, meet Anderson Ferry’s retired sheriff, Ron Trask.’
JD thought of the story she’d told him. Mrs Westcott had called the police. And my father gave me a stern talking-to. Her father was the police. JD felt the fury surge and shoved it away. She didn’t need his anger. She had plenty of her own. It was coming off her in palpable waves.
‘Your father,’ JD murmured. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
But Lucy said nothing, keeping her gaze fixed on her father’s face.
‘Why are you here?’ Trask asked harshly.
‘We’re investigating a homicide,’ Stevie said. ‘We’d like your cooperation.’
Ron Trask didn’t look away from Lucy. ‘Russ Bennett?’ he asked.
Lucy nodded.
Trask’s jaw hardened. ‘Are you involved?’
She nodded again and said not a word in her own defense.
JD stepped to her side, put his hand lightly at the small of her back. ‘Bennett is dead along with Malcolm Edwards. Ryan Agar has been abducted.’
Something flickered in Trask’s cold eyes, but it was quickly extinguished. ‘Of course I knew Bennett and I remember Edwards and Agar. They played ball with my son.’ He said my son in an exclusionary way that pissed JD off.
‘Whoever’s doing the killing is leaving the bodies for your daughter to find,’ JD said. ‘He’s killed two other people that we know of.’
Trask’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his daughter. ‘What have you done now?’
JD’s vision went red around the edges. ‘She has done nothing,’ he snapped. ‘What do you know, sir? And I’m not taking “I don’t know” for a goddamned answer.’
‘Then you’ll get no answer at all,’ Trask snapped back. ‘This has nothing to do with me.’ He started to walk away when Lucy surprised them all by springing forward and grabbing handfuls of her father’s shirt.
‘Tell me,’ she growled. ‘Tell me what happened or I swear I will make you pay.’
Stunned, Trask’s hands came up to push Lucy away, but she held firm. ‘I don’t know,’ he gritted. ‘Let go of me or I’ll throw your ass in jail where it belongs.’
Lucy gripped his shirt, lifting herself on her toes. ‘An innocent young man was murdered last night. His throat was slit ear to ear. He did nothing wrong. He was working a job, that’s all, when some asshole with a vendetta slit . . . his . . . throat.’ A sob barreled out of her. ‘Buck’s friends are dying. So tell me now. What. Did. Buck. Do?’
Trask ripped Lucy’s hands from his shirt, holding her by her wrists. ‘Nothing. Your brother did nothing. You were the bad kid, always the one in trouble. Alway
s the embarrassment.’ His hands tightened, his thumbs digging into her wrists as he forced her arms backward. With a flinch and a gasp of pain she rose higher on her toes and from the look in her eyes, JD knew this wasn’t the first time her father had hurt her.
JD’s fury erupted and he’d twisted a handful of Trask’s collar in his fist, digging his knuckles into her father’s throat before he even knew he’d planned to do so. ‘Let her go,’ he said deliberately and quietly. ‘Now.’
He had the satisfaction of seeing Trask’s eyes flash in fear before he let go. JD shoved Trask away so hard that the man stumbled. From the corner of his eye he saw Lucy rub her arms with a grimace of pain and JD’s fury bubbled over again.
He followed Trask step for step, invading his space, satisfied that even though they were the same height Lucy’s father had to look up because he was cowering. ‘Touch her again,’ JD whispered, ‘and I’ll see your ass in jail where it belongs.’
Trask flashed his daughter a look of hate before stomping away, sending the dock shaking under his feet. He climbed aboard his boat and disappeared below deck.
The dock stopped shaking, but Lucy didn’t. JD pulled her against him and to his surprise she didn’t fight him. Instead she turned into him, pressing her clenched fists into his chest. Meeting Stevie’s sad eyes over Lucy’s head, JD wrapped her in his arms and let her tremble. And cry. ‘Did he hurt you?’ he murmured.
‘No. Nothing my mother couldn’t patch up anyway,’ she said, then stiffened when JD went rigid, his fury bubbling up all over again. She cleared her throat roughly. ‘But you meant just now, didn’t you? No, he didn’t hurt me.’
‘You should have told me,’ he whispered.
Berman slipped a handkerchief into her clenched fist, reminding them that they were not alone. ‘Your father didn’t notice your bracelet or he didn’t think anything about it if he did. When you’re ready, I suggest we go to a place that will delight in spreading gossip our way.’