The White Carnation

by Susanne Matthews

  “Not off hand, but the name’s printed on the back of the card. It’s still on my desk at the newspaper along with the dead roses, which I will toss as soon as I can.”

  “Before I call Trevor and ask him to look into it and to see if Tina’s description of the man who paid her off fits with yours of the Joker, let me check to see if he sent the sketch. For a while, there were several reports each day. It could’ve gotten lost, or I might’ve missed it.”

  Faye went to the sink to get a drink of water while he turned on the computer and checked his backlogged email. “Damn! Here it is. He sent it two weeks ago.” He opened the file and flinched. “Wow! A blind man would remember this one. She’d be hard to miss.”

  He turned the computer to show the image to Faye, and she gasped, dropping the glass she’d been holding. It shattered on the ceramic kitchen floor.

  “Who is this, Faye?”

  “She’s the girl from the Fotomat. I’d recognize her face anywhere.”

  Rob stared at the picture. She’d mentioned the girl at the Fotomat had been heavily tattooed. In addition to various piercings, the girl had a tattoo of what he thought might be a bird of prey on her face.

  “Is that an eagle?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  He picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hi, Trevor. I don’t know how I missed it, but somehow I did. I didn’t open that sketch of the girl from the florist’s until now. Faye recognized the girl in the sketch. She worked at the Fotomat.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Trevor said. “That just adds to the importance of the place as his hunting ground. I was just about to call you. There have been several inquiries at the hospital, and Dr. Chong is having trouble keeping the hospital administrator off her back. We’ll announce that she’s recovered from her accident—I think we’d decided on a fall down the stairs with a nasty bump on the head. I know you want to stay there, but time’s running out. Mary’s baby is due soon, and I’d like to catch him before he can put her to sleep permanently.”

  “I agree, but what about the mole? Are you any closer to catching him?”

  “I am, but I won’t let you in on it just yet. I have a feeling you’ll be quite stunned when you find out the truth. In the meantime, since I want to use that mouse to catch a rat, you’ll stay out of the loop.”

  “I don’t like it, but if you say so. Where will we stay? Because, like it or not, I’m not leaving her with anyone else.”

  “There’s a safe house waiting for you in Quincy. You’ll be safe there.”

  “Give us time to pack up, and we’ll be there in, give or take, seven hours.”

  Faye had just finished cleaning up the broken glass. She was so pale. He’d make sure Dr. Chong had a look at her.

  “This may be a break for us. A girl with a tat like that can’t be that hard to find. Trevor wants us back in Boston, so congratulations, darling. You’ve made a full recovery. The cover story is you fell down the stairs and hit your head. You’ve been in a coma for the past seven weeks. Now, let’s talk about the girl with the eagle on her face. Someone inked that on her. Did anything else stand out about her?”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  Rob laughed. “Yeah. I guess it is. Listen, we have loose ends to tie up before we leave. Trevor has arranged a safe house for us in Quincy. I’ll go into the village, make sure there’s nothing left in the mailbox, and get the car gassed up. While I’m gone, you can pack up our stuff. We’d better take the food in the fridge, too. No telling how long it’ll be before anyone uses the place again. Will you be okay with that? We’ll be able to get on the road faster this way. Now that we’re going back, I’m anxious to get there. Trevor’s got the mole in a trap. Won’t share his name with me because he’s afraid I’ll give something away. He’s right. If I knew who the bastard was, I’d beat the shit out of him.”

  “Go. Do what needs to be done. I’ll strip the sheets and take the linens back to Boston. There’s a clean set I can put on the bed.” He heard the worry in her voice.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Lock the door, and you’ll be fine. We’re getting close; I can feel it. We just have to pull it all together.”

  “How long will you be?”

  “No more than an hour. We’ll leave as soon as I get back.”

  “I’ll be waiting. Drive carefully.”

  He picked her up and carried her to the staircase. “I think I can spare another twenty minutes or so …”

  • • •

  Faye watched as Rob drove down the lane. This was the first time she’d been alone in the chalet, and the thought disquieted her. Normally, the fear of being alone only assailed her in the dark, but today … She should’ve gone with Rob. If she’d spoken up, he’d have waited for her. Well, she hadn’t, and it was too late to cry about it now. God, she hated this sense of impending doom that wouldn’t leave her alone. Determined to put it behind her, she locked the screen door.

  In the kitchen, she opened the pine utility cupboard, removed the small cooler she and Rob had purchased for the few picnics they’d had and a small box and placed them on the granite counter. Opening the cupboards, she removed the various packages they’d opened and placed them in the box. The fridge and freezer she’d empty when Rob returned.

  After filling the sink with hot water and soap, she washed the few dishes they’d used at breakfast. As she was draining the sink, she thought she heard the sound of an engine, but when she didn’t hear anything else, she relaxed. It must have been just a car going up the highway—maybe it needed a new muffler.

  Satisfied the kitchen was clean, she shut down the laptop on the table and packed it into its travel case. The table was covered in files, which she placed in an accordion folder, leaving Mary’s file out by itself to review while Rob drove. She prayed whoever had her friend was treating her well.

  She climbed the stairs, stripped the sheets off the bed, and remade it. Going into the closet, she removed fresh clothes to wear and packed the others. Their soiled garments and used linens could travel in the laundry basket they’d bought. She’d add her towels once she showered.

  After checking the drawers to make sure nothing had been left behind, she headed into the bathroom. Rob had been gone about twenty minutes, so she still had lots of time. Undressing, she stared at her body in the shower’s mirrored doors. She’d gained weight since they’d arrived, and that was a good thing. There really was such a thing as being too thin. She spread her hands across her abdomen. She’d hoped to start her period, but with all the stress, it was late—she’d always been on the erratic side and hoped that was all. If there were a child growing within her, whose child was it? She and Rob had made love several times without a condom. The thought that Dr. Chong’s pill had failed and she might be carrying that monster’s child nauseated her. Shaking, praying she was wrong, she got into the shower, scrubbed her body, and washed her hair. After drying off, she fluffed her short curls.

  Taking her cosmetics bag into the bedroom, she added it to the rest of the things she’d packed and dressed in denim capris, a tank top, and sandals, leaving a zippered hoodie to wear in the air-conditioned car. After packing Rob’s duffle, she made sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Grabbing her hoodie and the bags, she started down the stairs. She’d come back up for the laundry basket. No sense breaking her neck trying to carry it all down at once.

  “You were taking so long, I thought I’d have to go up there and help you.” The voice, one she recognized, chilled her blood. “You cut your hair, Faye. You shouldn’t have done that. We’ll discuss a suitable punishment later.”

  The anger in the voice made her heartbeat accelerate. She dropped her sweater and the bags and slowly turned toward him.

  He was sitting in the recliner near the phone she knew she’d never reach. Fear gripped her. Her breathing choked off, and the barely tamed butterflies in her stomach took flight. She knew the voice, and when he stood an
d began to walk toward her, she easily recognized the unkempt man in the camouflage outfit. He looked wilder than ever. Every hair on her body stood on end and screamed danger. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her stomach and herself. She saw her hands were trembling and clasped them behind her back.

  She laughed nervously. “Jimmy! Wow! This is a surprise. What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  She moved away from him as he approached her. Terror unlike anything she’d ever known gripped her, but along with it came an eerie calm. After Mahoney’s attack, she’d learned to defend herself and how to diffuse situations with unwanted aggressors.

  She cast around the room for a way out, but there was no way she’d get past him. She backed up until she hit the table, causing Mary’s file to slip to the floor. Pulling her foot out of her sandal, she felt for the folder and, using her heel, pushed it under the chair skirt before returning her foot to its shoe.

  As Jimmy moved closer, her nose wrinkled at the smell of his unwashed body, the herbal cigarettes he smoked, and a multitude of even more unpleasant odors. Did she recognize deer musk, too? He stopped about a foot away from her, far too close for comfort, and Faye noticed the bone handle of a long hunting knife sheathed in the leather utility belt he always wore. It hadn’t been there before; she’d have recognized a weapon like that. The only thing missing from his usual outfit was his camera.

  “What are you doing here? On another nature shoot? You smell a little ripe, no offense. You’re welcome to clean up upstairs if you like.” She glimpsed at the clock on the fireplace mantel. Rob should be here anytime. Jimmy laughed, and the sound raised goose bumps on her skin.

  “No thanks. I’ll clean up when I’m done. You’ve been a bad girl, Faye. You’ll have to be disciplined. I suppose the hair will grow. We’ve been worried about you. We searched for you. You shouldn’t have left, especially not with him. That’s against the rules. The rules must be followed.”

  “What rules are you talking about, Jimmy?” She swallowed and tried to stay outwardly calm while her insides came unglued. This wasn’t the easy-going Jimmy she knew. He was a stranger, a very dangerous and absolutely crazy stranger. She needed to keep him talking, but his behavior was unsettling. She forced down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

  He scowled. “You shouldn’t have tried to hide like this. You gave us a lot of extra work, caused delays. It took a long time to figure out where you’d gone, but the Prophet is smart, and his follower dug until he had the answer. He sent me here. I arrived last week. I’ve been waiting for my chance. When I saw him leave, I knew it was time. Someone will deal with him later. I’ve come to collect what’s mine.”

  “Yours? You must be mistaken. I don’t have anything of yours.” His last words echoed in her head. “You saw him leaving? You’ve been spying on us?”

  “I have from the moment I knew I could claim you. I chose the others because they resembled you. I watched you at work and at home. I saw you bathe, dress, sleep. I saw you sharing what’s mine with him in that bed. That was against the rules, but I punished you for that. I took away the job you loved. I wanted to kill him, but the Prophet said no. The detective thinks he can take you from me now, but he can’t. The time has come for us to be one.”

  His words chilled her. His voice, eerily calm, grew in intensity, and she recognized the fanaticism. He was insane. Why had she never seen it? He’d followed her around, but she’d never noticed the obsession. Damn it. I even felt sorry for him.

  And Jimmy’s words disagreed with what Tom and Trevor had told Rob. If Jimmy had been the one to pay her off, why wouldn’t Tina have said so? Could Tom be the mole? He was certainly privy to everything.

  “You say you ruined my career? I thought Tina did that.”

  “That whore? She wasn’t fit to wash my feet. I sent a fixer to her with money and that file. One of the brethren put it together for me. Do you know she actually thought I’d choose her over you? She broke her vow of silence, and she’s been punished for her transgression. God intended you for me.”

  “The flowers. You sent me the flowers.”

  “I did. First I sent roses to commiserate with you when you fell for my ploy and printed that false story. Pride comes before a fall. You’ll learn that now. When I discovered you preferred carnations—I sent those each time one of our children was born into the family—I watched you care for them, but not the last one. Where did you leave the last one?”

  Keep him talking, Faye. Keep him talking. Rob, I need you!

  “I had it with me when I found Lucy Green. I dropped it.”

  “That was unfortunate. The woman’s death was a mistake and has been redressed. Seeing you so broken hurt me. I sent you the pictures and watched you smile. Then, the prophet said it was time at last.”

  Her palms were sweaty. She looked at the clock again. Where are you, Rob?

  She shook her head, trying to deny what he’d said. “You were the Joker—at the tea, in my apartment. You attacked me? You raped me? Why?”

  “I claimed you. I planted the seed, and it grows as we speak.”

  “You’re insane,” she whispered, her breathing shallow. She couldn’t mask her fear anymore.

  “You’re afraid. Good. A wife should fear her lord and master. I won’t beat you this time, but the Prophet says we need to go back to the old ways. Our new home is waiting for us. You’ll be happy there. You’re going to be my wife. But enough conversation. We need to go now.”

  “Never,” she whispered, seeing the truth in the mania in his deep blue eyes, the eyes she remembered now, eyes he’d always kept hidden behind thick glasses. “I’m not going—”

  Before she could finish her words, he blew white powder into her face, and everything went black.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Faye? I’m back. Sorry it took so long.”

  Rob entered the chalet, surprised not to see her standing in the doorway waiting for him. He’d had a flat halfway to Lake Placid, a nail in the tire, and it had taken him more than three hours to get a tow truck, get it fixed, get the mail from the post office, gas up, and get back. He’d forgotten to charge the cell phone, and the damn thing barely had enough juice in it to call the tow truck.

  “Where are you, honey? We have to get going.” The bags were sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe she’d gone up for more. He climbed the stairs, two at a time, and saw everything had been cleaned. The laundry basket waited to be carried downstairs. He went into the bathroom, but it was empty. Concern clawed at his stomach. He entered the kitchen and saw the box on the table and the cooler on the counter. He opened the fridge and freezer. Nothing had been touched. Why hadn’t she finished?

  An unpleasant aroma—feces, decay, carrion—wafted into the room through the kitchen window. Had some animal crawled under the cottage and died? Was Faye outside trying to pull some raccoon carcass from under the cabin? It would be just like her to try, but the way her stomach had been acting up …

  He hurried around to the back of the chalet and stopped as if he’d been poleaxed when he saw flies buzzing around the blood-soaked sheet.

  His heart thundered in his chest. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He walked slowly over to the bundle, praying he wouldn’t find Faye underneath the cloth. Bending down, he tugged at the fly- and maggot-covered sheet, his stomach threatening to empty itself. Blonde hair, sightless eyes. The breath he’d been holding gushed out. Tina Jackson’s bloody, contorted body lay on the dirty sheet. Like Lucy Green, her throat had been slit.

  That monster had Faye!

  “Faye!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

  “Faye!” he yelled a second time, knowing there would be no answer. His breath came in gasps as he recalled a similar search, but this time, he knew he wouldn’t find her in bed the way he had the morning she’d been drugged.

  He ran to the edge of the clearing and vomited what was left of the breakfast he’d consumed earlier. He sprinted back into the cabin
, searching for blood. Good—there was none. He did a quick inventory. Where were the files? The laptop—where was the computer? His greatest fears gelled. Someone had taken the files and the computer, but more importantly, they’d taken Faye.

  He pulled all of his emotions inside. Faye needed him—not as an emotional wreck, but as the skilled investigator he was. What had she said the night she’d found Lucy? She needed a bulldog. Well, she had one. Calling on every inch of professionalism he had, he banked his terror and reached for the phone. Trevor picked up on the third ring.

  “He killed Tina Jackson and left her body here for me to find.”

  “Who killed Tina Jackson?”

  “The Harvester, damn it, and now he has Faye.”

  “How in hell did he find you?”

  “How should I know? You tell me. It’s the leak. It has to be. You said you knew who he was. Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “Rob, the person I know who has been leaking information has no idea where you are. I’ll swear to that. There has to be someone else involved, someone I still haven’t pinpointed.”

  “Well, the bastard must have been watching us, waiting for his chance, and I gave it to him. He saw me leave. He knew she was alone.”

  “I’m sending in a forensic team. We’ll scour every inch of that place for a ten-mile radius. If she’s around there, we’ll find her, Rob.”

  “And if she’s not? I’m on my way back.”

  He slammed the receiver into the cradle.

  This is my fault. In my arrogance, I left her here, by herself, thinking she’d be safe. The first rule of guarding a witness is to never leave them alone, and I violated the code. Son of a bitch.

  He had to get her back safely. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t. He’d find her and the person who leaked the information, and he’d kill the bastard who’d taken her—maybe he’d kill them both. Justifiable homicide. No jury on earth would convict him.

  Going into the kitchen, he splashed cold water on his face. He went back upstairs and picked up the laundry bag. Downstairs again, he bent to add the duffle bags to his load and stopped. Faye’s zippered sweatshirt, the one he’d bought her in the village, lay on the floor. When he picked it up, he saw the edge of a file folder poking out from under the chair skirt. He and Faye had joked about the frilly floor-lengths that turned ordinary kitchen chairs into fancy dining-room ones. He bent and pulled out a file. Mary’s file. Why would the kidnapper take everything and leave it?