Smoke in Mirrors

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Relief poured through him. He summoned up the magic smile, the one that said trust me, and went into the hall to open the door.

  “I cancelled your appointment for this evening,” the killer said.

  “This doesn’t look so good,” Thomas said. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

  He had called Rhodes’s number on his cell phone a few minutes ago, checking to be sure that he was still out for the evening. There had been no answer.

  Now they stood in the woods at the edge of the little clearing and studied the back of the small house. So much for the big plan to get inside and grab whatever was on Rhodes’s hard drive.

  From where he stood, Thomas could just make out the weak, pulsing glow of firelight behind the crack of a curtain. No other lights were on inside as far as he could see.

  “Wonder if he’s busy seducing a client in there?” Deke said.

  “Where’s the client’s car? Hell, where’s his SUV, for that matter?”

  “Beats me. Hidden in the trees? Maybe the client is married and he doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here.”

  “What now? Go away and come back another night?”

  Thomas did not move. “You know, I’d really like to find out if he’s with someone and who that someone is.”

  “How do you plan to do that?”

  “How about if I just walk up to the front door and knock?”

  Deke looked at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Why not?”

  “This may be the SOB who nearly ran you off the road tonight.”

  “So? He’s not going to try anything on his own front step. An accident on Cliff Drive is one thing. A body on the front porch is a little harder to explain.”

  “Even harder to explain two bodies,” Deke said flatly. “I’m coming with you.”

  They moved out of the trees. Thomas felt exposed in the small clearing. Deke must have had the same sensation. Without discussion, they both headed for the deeper shadows beneath the eaves of the house.

  There was no light coming from behind the curtains that covered the kitchen window, but when they passed it Thomas heard sounds of activity inside. Someone was opening and closing cupboard doors with furious abandon.

  Thomas wondered if Rhodes had lost electrical power and was hunting for a flashlight. Guy like that probably didn’t keep his emergency equipment in a convenient location.

  He climbed the shadowed steps with Deke.

  The front door stood ajar. The pulsing firelight flickering inside the opening reminded Thomas of a human heart beating.

  A chill went through him. Something was very wrong.

  “Oh, shit,” Deke whispered. “I don’t like this.”

  “Rhodes!” Thomas shouted through the partially open door. “You in there?”

  There was an instant of frozen silence. And then the sound of footsteps running heavily toward the rear of the house. Thomas heard the muffled sound of the back door opening.

  Thomas took two long strides to the edge of the porch and looked around the corner of the house. He was just in time to see a dark figure silhouetted at the edge of the clearing.

  The figure paused, raised one arm.

  Thomas pulled back quickly, out of the line of fire. The shot crashed beneath the eaves of the house. Wood splintered in a porch post.

  And then there was only silence.

  “He’s gone,” Thomas said. “So much for finding out who Rhodes was entertaining tonight.”

  “Thomas?”

  The odd note in Deke’s voice made him turn swiftly.

  “What is it?”

  Deke gazed intently through the crack in the doorway. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Thomas walked back to the door and pushed it open wider. From the threshold he could see through the small front hall into the firelit living room.

  A figure dressed head-to-toe in black lay crumpled on the cushions in front of the low table.

  Thomas slowly led the way inside and came to a halt beside the body. Blood soaked the braided rug behind Rhodes’s head. There was more blood on the front of the black silk shirt.

  “Dead,” Deke said.

  The antique looking glass was uncovered. Thomas could see the reflections of a hundred miniature fires blazing in the multitude of tiny convex and concave mirrors on its surface.

  Small glimpses of hell.

  The room was a scene of chaos and destruction. Cushions had been ripped, exposing the innards. Drawers and cupboards stood open, the contents scattered on the floor.

  Thomas reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

  “Whoever did this was searching the place and we interrupted him,” Deke said.

  “They always tell you not to do that.” Thomas punched the emergency number on his cell phone.

  “Now we know why. Good way to get killed.”

  In the distance a heavy engine roared to life.

  The 911 operator came on the line. Thomas filled her in on the facts.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, losing his patience with the endless litany of questions. “We’ll stick around until Stovall gets here. Not like we’ve got anything better to do. Tell him to watch for a small truck or an SUV on his way here. The guy who did this is driving something big.”

  He ended the call.

  The rising wind howled in the trees.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The drive in front of the little rental house was illuminated by the glaring lights of three police vehicles and Wing Cove’s two ambulances. The crowd included medical personnel from the hospital, Ed Stovall together with all of the members of his small force, the mayor and a reporter from the Wing Cove Star.

  Murder was big news in a small town.

  “Been keeping a close eye on Rhodes for quite a while,” Ed Stovall said. “Had a hunch he was dealing. He’s got a background in chemistry and this S and M stuff is definitely something that got cooked up in a lab.”

  He stood ramrod stiff next to the gleaming front fender of his white SUV. Thomas figured it was mechanically impossible for Stovall to lounge casually against anything, even his own vehicle. The robotic construction of his compact frame probably did not allow for those options.

  “Elissa volunteered to go undercover for me,” Ed said. “A very brave woman. Insisted on doing her duty as a citizen. She got me a sample of some of that nutritional supplement Rhodes sold. I had it tested. Turned out to be flavored sugar crystals and cornstarch. Couldn’t arrest him for peddling snake oil. But I was still sure there was something else going on with him. You ever notice those weird eyes?”

  “Tinted contacts,” Thomas said.

  “I know. Creepy, if you ask me.”

  “I think Rhodes was trying to project a dramatic image,” Thomas said.

  “I would have nailed him eventually. Unfortunately, someone else got to him first.”

  Thomas watched two men load the gurney bearing Alex Rhodes’s body into the back of an aid car.

  Deke scowled. “You really think this was a drug deal gone bad, Ed?”

  He was furious and he was making little effort to conceal that fact. Thomas did not blame him. The conversation was not going well. As usual, Ed was not interested in their theories. He had already jumped to his own conclusions regarding the murder.

  “It all fits,” Ed said, stubborn as ever.

  “Okay,” Thomas said evenly, “say he was dealing drugs. Even if that was the case, what makes you so sure Rhodes got removed by his competition?”

  Ed squared his cap. “Drug trade’s a rough business. Folks involved in it get killed pretty regularly.”

  “Any idea why the killer would take the time to tear the place apart after shooting Rhodes?”

  “Sure. He was looking for Rhodes’s supply and maybe some cash or valuables. Those bastards are all opportunists. Scavenger sharks.” Ed shook his head. “Only good news is that whoever did this is probably halfway back to Seattle. With any luck he’s someone else’s problem now.”<
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  Deke made a disgusted sound. “Think so?”

  Ed exhaled heavily. “I’m going to need written statements from both of you in the morning. Want my advice?”

  “Not particularly,” Deke said.

  Ed ignored him. “Stick to the facts tomorrow. Don’t drag your personal conspiracy theories concerning Mrs. Walker’s death into this thing.”

  “Why not?” Deke squinted against the glare of the SUV’s lights. “Because it might raise some awkward questions about your investigation?”

  “No,” Ed said quietly. “Because it will raise some awkward questions about the state of your mental health.”

  “You think I give a shit about your opinion of my mental health, Stovall?”

  Thomas winced. “Take it easy, Deke.”

  Ed swung around abruptly to face both of them. “You two want to hear a really awkward question? Try this one: What the hell were you doing here tonight?”

  “I told you,” Thomas said, “we came here to confront Rhodes about that near miss out on Cliff Drive. I wanted to hear his excuses.”

  “You really think he tried to kill you?”

  “Yeah, Ed. I really do think he tried to kill me and Leonora Hutton.”

  “You’ve got nothing to back that up. Hell, you didn’t even file a complaint.”

  “Didn’t figure you’d pay any attention to another complaint from one of the Walker brothers,” Thomas said.

  Ed’s mouth tightened. The line of his jaw was rigid. “Should have filed a complaint.”

  “What good would that have done,” Deke shot back, “given your views of the situation?”

  “The death of your wife has nothing to do with this,” Ed said. But he said it in a surprisingly quiet voice. “It’s my job to deal with the facts and the facts are that this thing has all the hallmarks of a drug killing.”

  Deke looked at Thomas. “Anal-retentive, like you said.”

  “Take it easy,” Thomas said. “We need to get back to Leonora and Cassie. They’ll be worrying.”

  Deke combed his fingers through his beard. “You’re right. Talking to Stovall is always a waste of time. Let’s get out of here.”

  He turned on his heel and started toward the road, heading back to the old house where they had left the SUV.

  Thomas moved to follow.

  “Wait,” Stovall said in a low voice. “One thing before you two take off.”

  Thomas stopped and turned. Deke reluctantly did the same.

  “What?” Thomas said.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

  “That’s gotta hurt,” Deke said.

  Ed ignored the barb. “Rhodes came to town a year ago. He was here when Bethany Walker died. If I can prove that he was in the drug business, and I don’t think that will be tough, I’ll take another look at Bethany Walker’s suicide. See if Rhodes might have had a hand in it. I’ll also contact the California authorities and request a copy of the report that was filed on Meredith Spooner’s accident. See if there’s any connection that might have been overlooked on that end.”

  Deke looked at him.

  “That’s all I can do,” Ed said.

  “Appreciate it, Ed,” Thomas said.

  Ed nodded. “No promises.”

  “That I can believe,” Deke grumbled.

  Leonora spotted Thomas and Deke first. Relief cascaded through her.

  “They’re here.” She slid toward the end of the booth and got to her feet.

  “About time.” Cassie put the half-finished bottle of water down on the table and followed her.

  Thomas and Deke forged a path through the crowd. Nobody dawdled in their way, Leonora noticed. When they got closer she understood why everyone was giving both men a wide berth. There was cold steel in both pairs of Walker eyes.

  She could feel the chill all the way across the room.

  “Something happened,” she said to Cassie.

  Cassie looked at Deke. “Dear God.”

  They both went forward, pushing past Kyle, who was returning from the bar with a tray containing a bottle of designer water and a fresh pot of tea.

  “Hey,” he said as they went unceremoniously past him on either side. “Where are you two going?”

  They ignored him. Leonora reached Thomas first. She went straight into his arms.

  “What happened?” she said against his jacket. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” He hugged her close. “We’re both okay.”

  Cassie put her hand on Deke’s shoulder. “What went wrong?”

  “Long story,” Deke said. He gave her a crooked smile. “Don’t I get a welcome hug, too?”

  With a small, choked cry, Cassie put her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his shoulder.

  “We both need a beer,” Thomas said. With one arm around Leonora’s waist, he led the way toward the booth. His expression chilled further when he saw Kyle. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “Never mind Kyle.” Leonora grabbed his arm and urged him into the booth. “Sit down.”

  Thomas obediently lowered himself onto the bench. She got in beside him. Deke and Cassie sat down on the other side. Kyle stood, tray in hand, looking slightly confused.

  “I’ll have a beer. Whatever’s on draft,” Thomas said to Kyle.

  “Same for me,” Deke said.

  Kyle opened his mouth, closed it. With a small sigh, he turned and started back toward the bar.

  Leonora looked at Thomas. “All right, let’s have it.”

  “Rhodes is dead,” he said.

  Cassie stared at him, speechless.

  Leonora felt as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs.

  “Dead?” Her voice rose. “He’s dead? Are you sure?”

  “Real sure,” Thomas said.

  “Not—?” Leonora let the words hang, unspoken, in midair.

  “Not us,” Deke assured her dryly. “Someone else got there first. Shot him twice.”

  “Who?” Leonora demanded.

  “Didn’t get a good look at him,” Thomas said, “but our guess is—”

  “What do you mean, you didn’t get a good look?” Leonora shot up and planted both palms on the table. “You saw the killer? He was there when you arrived?”

  “He didn’t hang around long,” Deke said. “Only fired one shot in our direction before he split.”

  “Oh, my God,” Cassie whispered. “Oh, my God.”

  Leonora sat down again. Hard. She had a feeling her mouth was hanging open in an unattractive fashion, but she couldn’t summon up the will to close it. She propped her elbows on the table and dropped her face into her hands.

  “Stovall is convinced it was a drug killing and much as I hate to admit it, it’s just barely possible,” Thomas said. “But we may get something out of it. Because of the rumors of drugs being involved in Bethany’s and Meredith’s deaths, Stovall has promised to take another look at both files. See if there’s any link to Rhodes.”

  Leonora raised her head. “You’re right. That’s progress.”

  Thomas folded his arms on the table and lowered his voice. “Still doesn’t give us any connection to the Eubanks murder thirty years ago, though.”

  “I’ve been working on a new conspiracy theory,” Deke said. “What if first Bethany and then Meredith figured out Kern had committed that murder all those years ago? What if, fearing exposure and the loss of his reputation from Bethany and maybe blackmail in Meredith’s case, he decided to get rid of both women and wanted some help?”

  “I see where you’re going here,” Leonora whispered. “Maybe Kern suspected that Alex Rhodes was selling drugs. Bought some S and M from him and used it to poison Bethany first and, six months later, Meredith. It would have been easy to stage a suicide and a car accident if they were in the grip of severe hallucinogens.”

  Thomas looked at Deke. “If you and Leonora are right, you see where it leads?”

  Deke nodded. “Right back to Osmond Kern. Maybe tha
t was who we surprised in Rhodes’s house tonight. Maybe Kern knew that we were getting close. He had to get rid of Rhodes because Alex, as the dealer who had sold him the S and M, was the one person who could link him to the two deaths.”

  “If you’re right,” Thomas said, “Elissa might be in danger.”

  Cassie’s eyes widened. “From her own father?”

  “I don’t think Osmond Kern is what any self-respecting psychologist would term a nurturing parent.” Thomas reached for his cell phone. “I’ll give Stovall a call. He’ll probably tell me I’m as crazy as Deke, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a personal interest in Elissa Kern. He cares about her. He’ll want to be sure she’s safe.”

  Ed was standing in Osmond Kern’s darkened study, gazing at the text on the glowing computer screen when he took the call.

  “Stovall here.”

  “This is Walker. Thomas Walker. I know you don’t want to listen to any more conspiracy theories tonight, but if the Walker brothers and their associates are right about this one, Elissa may be in grave danger.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Hear me out, Ed. There’s a chance that Osmond Kern shot Alex Rhodes tonight to cover up a murder that was committed thirty years ago.”

  “You know something, Walker? You’re good at this detective stuff. Maybe you should consider a career in law enforcement.”

  There was a beat of silence. Ed could hear the sounds of a crowd and easy jazz. The Walkers were in the Wings of Fire Pub. He wouldn’t mind being there right now himself. He didn’t drink much normally, but he could have used a shot of something strong right at that moment.

  “Am I missing something here?” Thomas asked finally.

  “I’ll make sure Elissa is safe tonight, but I don’t think there’s anything more for any of us to worry about.”

  “What makes you so damn sure she’s safe, Ed? I know you really like the idea that the shooter is on his way out of town but are you willing to bet Elissa’s life on it?”

  “The shooter isn’t on his way out of town,” Ed said. He could feel the weariness all the way to his bones but he wouldn’t give in to it. There was no way he would get any sleep tonight. “I don’t know where Kern is yet, but I expect to find him soon.”