The Mirror Stage (The Imago Trilogy Book 1)

by J. J. Stone

  He cast a few glances around the kitchen, not surprised to see it was perfectly organized. Not so much as a spoon out of place.

  “Your kitchen reminds me of my mom’s,” he said, breaking the silence.

  The corners of Ada’s mouth tightened into a third of a smile. She poured coffee into the two mugs and walked over to the island. She stretched across and placed a mug in front of James then quickly retreated back to lean against the sink.

  James pulled the mug to him and added a quick pour of cream and two scoops of sugar. He carefully took a sip and winced a little as he placed the piping hot mug back down on the island. “I’ll come back to that.”

  A slightly brighter smile pulled at Ada’s lips as she took a sip of her coffee. James watched her swallow and place the mug on the counter behind her. She firmly planted both palms on her hips and met James’s gaze with a pair of stern, tired eyes.

  “So talk, James,” Ada said in a small voice. “You know how I feel about this whole,” Ada waved one hand in the air, “being on-scene thing.”

  James took a mental sigh and took a long gulp of coffee. He knew he was about to need the energy boost. “I guess I just want to know why you’re so apprehensive about it,” he replied, “and if there’s anything I can do to alleviate that.”

  Ada surprised him by letting out a quick, scoffing laugh. “Why the sudden nice act?” she demanded. “I know you don’t care ‘why,’ you just want to drag me down to that crime scene.”

  Something sinister crept into James’s eyes that almost scared Ada.

  “That can still be arranged,” he growled.

  “That’s the only way I’m leaving this house tonight,” Ada shot back.

  James’s hand tightened around his mug so hard that Ada was just waiting for it to shatter. He lowered his head for a moment and when he looked back at her, the intensity had left his eyes and was replaced with something she could really only describe as exhausted defeat. “Just help me understand why you insist on being a hermit,” he pleaded.

  Skeptical at his abrupt surrender, Ada decided to test him. “I don’t think it’s anything you can just talk me out of, James.”

  James stood and walked over to pour himself some more coffee. He held the pot toward Ada and raised his eyebrows. She shook her head at his offer. Instead of returning to his seat, he strode to the other side of the island and stood leaning back against it, now a few feet from Ada. She didn’t like the sudden proximity.

  “Look, I get it. I know what happened to you when your mother died. Any normal human being would be affected by that,” James said.

  “I guess I have a file?” Ada scoffed, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

  “After Patrick suggested you as an analyst, I pulled all your father’s case files. Studied up a bit,” James replied, sipping away at his coffee again.

  Ada bristled at the mention of her father. “That hardly qualifies you to understand my feelings.”

  “You woke up the morning after your father killed your mother, and found a trail of blood leading from your bed to the basement. You followed it down into the basement and found your mother’s body in pieces.”

  Ada’s breathing grew shallow. She gripped the edge of counter until her knuckles were bone-white.

  James continued. “Your father then locked you in the basement and left the house before anyone came knocking.” He put his mug down and walked two steps toward Ada. “I know you sat in that basement, with your mother’s body, for almost five hours before police showed up. I know you didn’t speak a word for a month after that.” He continued to close the distance between them. “I know you were asked questions, over and over, about every detail of that crime scene by cops and lawyers and FBI agents. I know they even brought you back to that basement to see if you could identify anything down there that would help them find the other women your father killed.”

  Ada squeezed her eyes shut as images of the basement started flashing through her brain in bursts.

  “So, you tell me. Does that qualify me as at least knowledgeable of what you went through?”

  James’s voice was booming. Ada’s eyes flew open and she gasped when she saw that he was now standing directly in front of her, maybe a foot of space between them.

  “I know the amount of therapy that you had to go through, Ada. Going through something like that leaves a lot of damage,” James said, his voice softening slightly. “And I know the anniversary of your mother’s death was a few days ago.”

  He grabbed a napkin from behind him on the island and handed it to Ada. She took it from him, confused, then realized how damp her cheeks and shirt were. Embarrassed, she quickly swept the tears away with the napkin.

  “I have some scars,” Ada said shakily. “I worked really hard to not fall into a complete meltdown every time I thought about ... my mom.” Her voice broke for a moment as her nose caught a phantom stench of blood. She shook her head and clenched her hands in fists, the tears pouring from her eyes again.

  Two firm hands gently closed around her shoulders and suddenly she felt grounded. The stench left her nostrils and the quivering in her hands started to subside. Mortified at this sudden outpouring of emotion, she shrugged away from James and went to throw out her sopping tangle of napkin.

  James watched her trudge back from the trash can. She lowered herself onto his abandoned stool and crossed her arms on top of the island counter. James tipped forward onto his elbows across from Ada and laced his fingers together. “Face it, Ada,” he said gently.

  Ada frowned at him. “Face it? Face what?”

  “Everything. It’s still controlling you, no matter what your therapists have told you.”

  “And you think that going to a crime scene will suddenly cure all my wounds?” Ada asked, the cynicism dripping in her tone.

  James didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  For a moment, Ada wanted to laugh at his flippant answer. Then she realized he was serious. The smile left her face and was replaced with a fuming grimace. “What are you now, a shrink?”

  “A highly trained FBI agent whose job revolves around analyzing and identifying human thought and emotion,” James replied.

  Ada had no biting retort to that. She knew at that moment that he had her pinned in a corner, and there was no slinking past him. She tried desperately to think of a valid argument against his proposal. Nothing came to her.

  James watched all of this play across her face and felt a celebratory smile start to pull at his lips. He’d played her right where he needed her and she’d hardly put up a fight. He was a bit surprised at how easy it had been.

  “We’ll take it one scene at a time,” he assured her as he straightened. “I only need you to observe. You’re new to the case, so you might see something the rest of us glaze over.”

  Feeling utterly defeated, Ada picked up his still damp windbreaker and handed it to him. “When do you need me there?” she asked.

  “Team’s already there and waiting on us.”

  Ada glanced at the oven clock and groaned inwardly. She had class in less than 7 hours.

  “You’ll be back in time to get a couple hours sleep. I promise.”

  Feeling like a child on her way to the dentist, Ada stood to her feet and started for her bedroom. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she muttered to James as she trudged past him.

  James zipped up his jacket and followed her out, detouring to the foyer while she continued down the hall to her bedroom. He watched her for a moment then cleared his throat and pulled the car keys from his pocket. “I’ll be in the car,” he called to her then strode out the front door.

  CHAPTER 8

  For as long as she had been in law enforcement, Brenda still felt uncomfortable the first few moments at a crime scene. It probably had something to do with the fact that the bo
dy sprawled before her was full of life not long ago. She couldn’t help but think about who might be missing this person.

  She realized she had been standing a few paces back from the latest body, just staring. Hoping no one had noticed, she pulled out her phone and pretended to be searching for something. She wondered why Ada had never texted her back.

  “Any word yet on the prize fight?”

  Brenda rolled her eyes at Dade as he approached her. “Not yet,” she replied. “I’m kind of hoping Deacon got lost.”

  Dade chuckled and wagged his finger at Brenda. “You’re getting better at this humor thing, you know.”

  “Bite me.”

  “Gladly,” Dade said as he raised his eyebrows at her.

  “Ugh.” Brenda drove a solid punch into his upper arm.

  Dade stumbled back like she’d hit him with a car. “Geez, what was that?”

  “My version of a cold shower,” Brenda replied sweetly. She waved dismissively at his show of pain and nodded at the girl lying a few feet away, splayed out like a dropped rag doll. “We have a job to do.”

  Dade gave his bicep one last rub and gestured to one of the cops milling around the scene. “Officer Hargrave over there said the woman’s name is Lana Rames. One of her friends IDed her. She went missing from a nightclub earlier tonight, not too far from here.”

  “Tonight? Why the sudden increase in kill time?” Brenda wondered. She walked up to the body and knelt down. “She appears to be around the same age as the others. But that’s not really enough to make this our guy. Why do the police think it is?”

  Dade crouched down beside her and pulled on a glove. He carefully pulled Lana’s lower lip down toward her chin, exposing deep crimson tick marks sliced into the pink skin of Lana’s inner lip. “They figured this wasn’t random,” he said as he let go of the lip.

  Brenda sighed and stood up. “I don’t get this guy. Why mark something and leave it? Usually, you mark something because you want to keep it. He’s marking them and leaving.”

  “He’s probably taking pictures. The marks might be to help him keep track of who’s who.” Dade straightened and surveyed the alley. “No cameras around here. The killer probably knew that.”

  “So, he’s planning. Great,” Brenda sighed.

  Movement at the opening of the alley caught their attention. The police at the barricade parted to allow a car through. The black SUV came to a stop alongside Dade’s car, and the driver door opened. James hopped out and walked around the front of the car.

  Dade and Brenda shared a knowing glance and started toward James. They both halted when James opened the passenger door and helped Ada out of the car.

  “I’ll be damned,” Dade muttered.

  Brenda mustered a small smile and waved at Ada. Ada halfheartedly returned the wave as she and James joined them.

  “You’re staring,” James mumbled to Dade as he motioned Ada forward. “Dade, this is our temporary analyst Ada Brandt.”

  Dade thrust out his hand and shook firmly as soon as Ada’s small hand slipped into his. “Glad to finally meet you,” he greeted. “Sorry about staring, just surprised to see you here.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Ada replied. She glanced at Brenda. “Good to see you.”

  Brenda stepped up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’re glad to have a fresh pair of eyes.”

  Ada’s eyes fluttered to the partially covered body a few yards before her.

  Brenda noted Ada’s clenching fists and quickening breath. “Come on, I’ll get you up to speed on what we know.” Brenda put an arm around Ada’s shoulders and led her over to Dade’s car.

  Dade shook his head with a chuckle as Brenda and Ada walked off. “You, sir, never fail to impress,” he said to James.

  James shrugged. “I needed her here.” He pulled on a pair of gloves and took out his flashlight. “I don’t know why Brenda can’t get through to her. She just needed a little push.”

  Dade decided not to press the issue and turned his attention to the case. “Here, let me show you what the responding officers found.”

  _____

  “So, are you OK?” Brenda asked as she handed Ada a pair of latex gloves.

  Ada took the gloves like they were made of glass and stared at them for a moment, her eyes widening slightly. “Define OK,” she mumbled.

  Brenda grinned and wriggled her gloved hands in front of her. “You put them on. Like this,” she teased.

  Ada pulled the gloves on and grimaced. “I guess this means I’m getting my hands dirty?”

  “No. Just making sure you don’t contaminate.”

  This seemed to calm Ada’s nerves. She took a deep breath and glanced over at James and Dade kneeling beside the body. “James didn’t say much on the way here. What am I supposed to do, exactly?”

  Brenda handed her a flashlight. “Just look around. See if you see something that you recognize or find interesting. Any little thing could help.”

  Ada frowned at her. “That’s it?”

  Brenda shrugged. “Crime scenes aren’t always big and scary.”

  “Thanks,” Ada sneered and walked toward the scene.

  There was more activity than Ada had pictured there would be. Press and passersby corralled at the mouth of the alley. Police and FBI agents milled around, trying to gather evidence before the Seattle drizzle ruined it. There was a lone helicopter overhead, scanning the surrounding alleys and roads with a giant spotlight. And then there was Lana, the eye of the hurricane of law enforcement flocking around her. Ada decided to stay away from her as long as possible.

  Ada clicked her flashlight on and scanned the ground. Between the various piles of trash and the glare of the puddles in the harsh light of the flashlight, Ada had no idea how she was supposed to see anything at all. She was beginning to gain a deeper appreciation for the forensic work she’d spent much of her adult life studying.

  “See anything?”

  Ada whipped around. Dade was standing a few feet from her, hands planted on his hips. He shot her a grin that Ada decided was better left ignored. “You’ve gotta give me some warning,” she breathed as tucked a soggy strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Sorry,” Dade said as he handed her a ball cap. “This might make things a little better.”

  Ada gladly took the hat, slipped her hair under it and pulled it snugly against her head. “Thank you ... Dade?” she asked, uncertain.

  “Yeah. My parents wanted a name that none of the other kids would have.” Dade chuckled. “It’s not easily forgotten. Usually.” He shot Ada a wink and grinned again.

  Ok, hotshot, time to cool down, Ada mused silently. She changed the subject. “Have you found another marking?”

  “Yep, just like the others. This one’s on the inside of her lip. I’ll show you,” Dade said as he started toward Lana.

  “Dammit,” Ada grunted as she slowly followed after him.

  Dade crouched next to the body and pulled Lana’s lower lip down. Ada glanced down at it quickly and then looked away with a nod. Her arms were crossed so tightly, she fully expected bruising.

  It looked like Dade was saying something to her, but he sounded a million miles away. The damp air suddenly grew musty. Everything in the alley went dark except for Lana’s body. Except it wasn’t Lana anymore. Mary Brandt’s opaque and gaping eyes stared up at Ada. A wide pool of blood radiated out from her diced up body. The pool crept closer and closer to Ada’s feet. She could smell that metallic blood tang again. It ate away at her nostrils like the foulest of odors. Ada backed against a wall and squeezed her eyes shut so tightly they felt like they might burst.

  _____

  Brenda zipped her jacket to her chin and shivered. She glanced over her shoulder to see where Dade had wandered off to. The first thing she saw was Dade risi
ng out of a crouch, his hands held out in front of him like he was talking someone off a ledge. Brenda turned completely toward him and Ada came into view. She was pressed back against a building, slamming her fists repeatedly into the brick wall behind her.

  In three seconds, Brenda was in front of Ada, gingerly placing her hands on her shoulders. “Ada. Open your eyes.” She heard Dade walk up behind her and she tossed a venomous glare at him. “What did you do to her?” She demanded.

  “I was showing her the marking and then she just … froze.” The tightness in Dade’s face told Brenda that he felt guilty.

  Brenda shook her head and turned back to Ada. “She’s having some kind of an episode. Something must have triggered a memory.” She added more force to her grip and shook Ada. “Ada. It’s Brenda. You need to open your eyes.”

  _____

  Someone was shaking her. Or maybe she was shaking, she had no idea. All she knew was that if she opened her eyes, her mother’s body would still be stretched out before her. Someone called her name. Infuriated at her inability to control her mind, Ada continued to pound her fists against the wall behind her, welcoming the pain that tethered her to the present.

  “Ada, stop!”

  Brenda’s voice cut through the fog of Ada’s subconscious. Against her will, Ada’s eyes flew open. Brenda was standing inches away from her, her hands gripping Ada’s shoulders. Dade stood a few paces away, scrutinizing Ada’s behavior with narrowed eyes. James and another agent stood further back, speaking in hushed tones.

  Ada felt a stinging and realized she had broken the latex gloves and shredded the sides of her hands against the brick wall behind her. She sheepishly dug her hands into her pockets and cleared her throat.

  “Come on, you’re done,” Brenda said firmly, gently prying Ada off the wall and directing her to one of the black SUVs.

  James intercepted them. “I need you to talk to the girl who reported Lana missing,” he said to Brenda, “Take Ada with you.”