Lethal Legacy

by Louise Hendricksen

  They entered the women’s dressing room. Dark blue walls absorbed light from the single overhead fixture and created a cave-like effect.

  “Give me a few minutes to change and we’ll walk out together,” Hue said, scuttling down one of the rows of gray lockers that partitioned the room into long shadowy alleyways.

  Amy strolled past the lockers en route to the lavatories. She stopped beside a woman who was changing her shoes and pointed to the combination locks attached to protruding hasps. “Are these dependable?”

  “Usually,” the woman said and giggled. “But they’re stiff and I don’t always get those long steel prongs pushed in far enough.” She shrugged and turned her palms up. “Then they don’t catch.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.” Amy shoved open the door to the lavatory. While she sponged her face with a wet paper towel, she thought over what the woman had said. If someone checked Cam’s lock every time he came to play handball, they could have gotten lucky one day and found that the lock hadn’t caught. Or there might be some way the lock could be altered so the steel prongs didn’t fit into the cylinder properly. She jotted down a reminder to check with a locksmith and hurried out to meet Hue.

  “You going to sign up?” the woman asked as they headed for the parking lot.

  “I may. I live in Ursa Bay, but I might have to be in Wheeler quite often during the next few weeks.”

  “Oh, are you visiting someone?”

  “No, I’m a private investigator.” Amy opened her I.D. wallet and handed it to Hue.

  Hue squinted her eyes as she read. “You’re a doctor too?”

  “That’s right.” Amy opened the passenger door of the station wagon. “Get in out of this drizzle and I’ll explain.” She shut the passenger door after Hue sat down, then went around to the driver’s side, sliding behind the wheel.

  Hue was looking at her with expectant admiration. “So, how did you come to be both a doctor and a spy?”

  Amy laughed. “My father was the medical examiner for Lomitas Island in the San Juans. Sometimes, in that capacity, he was able to solve crimes.”

  “Hey, just like on TV.”

  “Kind of.” She grinned at Hue. “His work fascinated me. So, while most teenage girls were going out with boys, me and my father were going over a crime scene or examining a dead body.”

  Hue shivered and made a face. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I’ve always been a little weird,” Amy said with a laugh. “Anyway, to make a long story short, I got a degree in medicine, pathology, and forensic science. Then Dad and I set up our own forensic investigation business in Ursa Bay.”

  Hue frowned. “I still don’t quite understand what you do.”

  “We try to determine cause in cases of questioned death.” She angled her body so her brown eyes held the other woman’s. “Hue, I’m a friend of Cam Nguyen’s. I’m trying to find out who killed his wife, Mai.”

  Hue drew a quick, harsh breath and tears filmed her eyes.

  Amy rested her hand on Hue’s sleeve. “So you knew her?”

  Hue bobbed her head. “We went through school together.” She sighed and shook her head sadly. “Mai was so pretty, so full of life. And now she’s gone.”

  “I know. I keep remembering how happy she looked at her wedding.” Amy opened her notebook. “Cam says Mai changed after her father died. Did you see her after she moved back to Wheeler?”

  “Only once.” Hue bit her lip. “She did act strange.”

  “In what way?”

  “Jumpy. We went to lunch. She kept looking over her shoulder as if…” Hue pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes. “As if she were afraid.”

  “Did you know her father?”

  “Everyone did.” She gestured toward the town. “He helped all of the families.” She began to tear her tissue into shreds.

  Amy played a hunch. “It’s a shame they still haven’t found the driver who ran him down. People like that should be punished.”

  Hue crushed the shredded tissue into a ball. “One of our people saw it happen.”

  Amy’s eyes narrowed. “Did the person tell the authorities what he’d seen?”

  “Oh, no, he won’t tell anyone.” Hue twisted her fingers together, swallowed, and stole a look at Amy. “He’s terrified. He thinks he’ll be killed, too.”

  9

  Dread chilled Amy twenty minutes later when she pulled into the Nguyens’ driveway. She chewed half a dozen soda crackers and drank some clear soup from a thermos, trying to vanquish the familiar wave of nausea. Finally, there was no other excuse for not going into the house.

  She checked the .38 in her shoulder holster. As she withdrew her hand, it brushed against the white doeskin medicine pouch that hung between her breasts. The previous fall, when Nathan feared she might die, he had placed it around her neck. He’d said the articles within would protect her, and they had. Now its spiritual powers had to protect not only her but the lives she carried inside her as well.

  With a tired sigh, she turned up her collar to shield her from the raw wind that was blowing and carried her equipment to the back porch. Stalling a moment longer, she studied Pran’s greenhouses. Had the perpetrator worked there, perhaps? Was that how he had managed to come and go as he pleased?

  Her attention shifted to the wind-tossed fir grove where they now knew Mai’s attacker had waited. In among the thrashing branches, she thought she saw something black and solid.

  She shivered, lugged her gear into the ransacked kitchen, locked the door, and propped a chair against it.

  Her first full breath filled her nostrils with the odor of incense. Her heart slammed against her ribs. He’s here.

  She took out her gun, braced her arms in front of her, and eased into the living room. On the floor by the glass patio doors, a six-foot feather palm sprawled atop strewn black soil. A lacy Ming Aralia and a green-veined white caladium hung limp from empty porcelain pots.

  She shivered. The killer hadn’t yet found what he wanted. She moved from room to room, opening drapes, throwing wide closet doors, and checking behind furniture.

  At last satisfied she was alone in the house, she changed into jeans, donned gloves and knee pads, and began an inspection of the polished wood floors. Mai’s barefooted killer had to have left a sole print.

  An hour’s search turned up several clear prints in the living room. She set a camcorder on a tripod to pan the area, then positioned an overturned coffee can containing a sixty-watt bulb near the print, inverted a small fish tank over that, and set a fingerprint camera down on the floor within arm’s reach.

  When ready, she soaked a cotton ball in sodium hydroxide solution, lay it in a small ceramic dish, added Super Glue, lifted the fish tank, and set the dish on the hot coffee can.

  Gradually, the heat and fuming agent worked its magic and a whitish-colored sole print appeared. She snapped pictures and moved the entire setup to the next section of flooring.

  At some point in her routine, Amy got the distinct feeling someone was watching her. Without lifting her head, she checked the patio doors. Nothing. Rising, she pretended to reach for her forensic satchel but instead grabbed the camcorder handle and swung it toward the front windows.

  Fear ballooned in her chest.

  A man in a black hood crouched in the shrubbery, his lips drawn into an animal-like snarl. His cold eyes glittering through slitted cloth, he glared at her. Then he vanished.

  10

  That evening, Amy checked her coat and lined up behind several other people in the restaurant’s foyer. She straightened the navy blue jacket of her maternity outfit. The one that had made her feel so good the day she’d met Nathan. Now, it appeared to bulge in all the wrong places.

  Her shoulders drooped. Not even twenty-four hours had elapsed since Nathan left and already the loneliness had returned twofold.

  In an attempt to raise her spirits, she gazed around at The Cove’s seashell pink walls, aquamarine carpeting, brass ships
’ sextants, portholes, and bells. Weariness weighed down her eyes and she could feel the beginning of a headache. If she’d had any sense, she’d have stayed home.

  The maître d’ spoke her name and she followed him to a window table with a view of the San Juan Islands in the distance. As she approached, Jed MacManus leaped to his feet, pulled out her chair and grinned at her. “Glad you could make it.”

  Little did he know, she thought, an image of the hooded man flashing before her eyes. With a forced smile, she sank onto the chair he held. “I wasn’t certain I would for awhile there.” To make certain he hadn’t followed her, she’d taken a roundabout route home.

  Jed seated himself across from her. “Oh no?”

  “I’ll tell you about it after you read this.” She handed him an envelope containing her father’s autopsy report and a transcript of their current investigative report.

  He read swiftly, underlining items as he scanned each page. When he finished, he tucked the envelope in the pocket of his brown tweed blazer and sighed. “Not too helpful, I’m afraid. The prosecutor will contend that Cam tortured and raped his wife.”

  “Unless the DNA on the semen proves otherwise.”

  “He could still accuse Cam of hiring the killer.” Jed stowed his rimless glasses in a case in the pocket of his green shirt. “Speaking of the killer, do you have any idea why the man keeps coming back to ransack the house? Why would he take the risk of getting caught?”

  “Whatever he’s looking for must mean a lot to him.” Amy took a sip of ice water. “He returned to the house again today.”

  Jed’s features sharpened. “How do you know?”

  Before she could reply, the waiter appeared. When they had ordered, Amy took another sip of water. “I think he left the house a few minutes before I arrived.”

  Jed sat forward. “Was the sheriff with you?”

  “No,”

  “Good God, you didn’t go there alone, did you?”

  She stared back at him, her jaw set. “I did, yes. It’s my job.”

  “That may be, Dr. Prescott, but you won’t be of much use to Cam or anyone else if your foolishness gets you killed.”

  Amy folded her arms. “I’ve managed to look after myself just fine up to now.”

  Jed’s nostrils flared. “That’s not the point. He could have shown up while you were there.”

  “He did!” She realized her voice sounded shrill. Relax. Take deep breaths. Why was she getting so upset? she wondered.

  “Jesus Christ, are you crazy?”

  Her throat closed up. Not now. She squeezed her hands together. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Shit! She hated the weakness she felt, her bone tiredness. She hated him for speaking to her in such a way. If any man was going to chew her out, it should be Nathan. She blinked back her tears. Damn men. Damn a world where nothing came out right.

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” Jed viewed her with an anxious expression. “You’ve had quite a scare and I’m not helping matters.” He peered at her with concern in his eyes. “You all right?”

  A tear escaped her eye and she wiped it away with her finger. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”

  “Look, I understand, Amy.” He cocked his head. “Do you mind if I call you Amy? For months, Cam’s been telling me what a terrific person you are. I feel like I know you.”

  “Terrific person?” Another rolled down her face. “Terrible mess is more like it.”

  Jed’s beeper went off then, and much to her relief the attorney went off to find a phone. By the time he returned, she had managed to get her emotions under control.

  She forced a feeble smile. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m usually not such a wimp.”

  “Hey, don’t give it another thought. You’re looking at one of the afflicted. A bleeding divorce casualty.”

  “Oh,” Amy said. “Been there, done that.” She fidgeted in her seat. He’d listened to her woes, now she’d probably have to listen to his.

  He grinned and his blue eyes lit up. “What’s a nice lady like you doing in this mean business anyway?”

  Relieved at his upbeat approach, she settled back in her chair. “I guess my father’s to blame.” She told him how she’d gotten involved in forensics at an early age. “I’ve never considered doing anything else.” She gave him a sheepish glance. “Today, my personal life kind of caved in on me.”

  He nodded. “Once that happened to me while I was doing my summation for the jury.” He made a face. “I don’t know who was more embarrassed by my tears, them or me.”

  She squared her shoulders. “About this afternoon. The man I saw was wearing a knit hood over his head. I didn’t see his face.”

  “Where was he, for God’s sake?”

  “Watching me from outside the window.” Amy shuddered. “I’ve never seen such hate-filled eyes,” she said and peered at the seafood dish the server set in front of her. God willing, the meal would rest easy on her stomach.

  Jed sliced off a piece of his fillet mignon and chewed thoughtfully. “You have any theories about what the guy is after?”

  “Did Cam tell you Mai’s father was killed by a hit-and-run driver?” Amy tasted the dish and found it to be delicious.

  Jed frowned. “No. I knew her father died, but that’s all.”

  “Dad and I think the two deaths might be connected.”

  “Really?” He mixed sour cream, butter, and bacon bits into his potato and sampled the results with a satisfied expression. “I got the contents of Pran’s safety deposit box today.”

  Amy leaned forward. “Find anything interesting?”

  “Haven’t looked yet” He brushed a piece of parsley to the edge of his plate. “Cam refuses to believe his wife was interested in another man. He hoped Pran’s personal effects might give him a clue as to Mai’s emotional state the last few months of her life.” Jed sliced off anther piece of steak. “So, why’d you go back to the Nguyen house?”

  “To look for sole prints. The ones I took today show that our suspect has a triangular scar on his right heel and that he’s flatfooted.”

  “Won’t do you much good unless the man is caught.”

  “We may be getting closer. I lifted a fingerprint from underneath the toilet lid.”

  Jed grinned. “Smart lady.” He regarded her with a steady gaze. “Amy, may I see you again?”

  Amy set down her fork. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. My life is a shambles right now.”

  “Mine too. Any other reasons?”

  She flushed and decided the best way to discourage him would be to tell the truth. “Actually, I’m in love with someone,” she said, and gnawed her lip. “But he happens to be unavailable.”

  “Maybe I could help you forget him.”

  She smiled. “That wouldn’t be too easy, Jed. In about five months, I’m going to have a couple of very lively reminders.”

  For an instant, he looked startled. Then he let out a hearty laugh. “Cam sure described you well. A certain Prescott panache, that’s what he calls it.”

  Amy laughed with him.

  “I’d still like to see you,” Jed said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Before long, I’ll be big as a blimp.”

  “Look, I’m thirty-five years old and right now I don’t want to even think about getting married again.” He ran his hand over his face. “Amy, what I really need is a friend.”

  She felt a tightness in her chest. “So do I.”

  “Great. How about sharing a piece of chocolate truffle cheese cake with me?”

  She groaned. “I’ll probably regret it, but I’m game.”

  After dinner, they sat in his Porsche while Jed leafed through the contents of Mai’s father’s safe deposit box. “Most of this seems to pertain to Mr. Pran’s property and business.”

  Jed stacked a number of legal documents on the seat beside him. “Hmm, what do we have here?” The long white envelope had a glob of red sealing wax
on its flap. “He instructed that this not to be opened until his death.” Jed examined the unbroken seal. “I wonder why Mai didn’t look at it?”

  “Perhaps she knew the contents.”

  “How could she?”

  “Her father lived several hours after the hit-and-run driver struck him. Mai was with him most of the time.”

  “Maybe you and your father are right. The two deaths might be related.” He slit open the top of the envelope with a pen knife, pulled out a sheet of paper, and scanned it quickly. “Listen to this,” he said. “It’s a letter from Mr. Pran to Mai. ‘Most precious daughter, What is revealed here you must tell to no one, not your husband, nor your dearest friend. The Khmer Rouge’s demons of death have found their way to our small village. It is my fervent hope that a day will come when Kampuchea will be free of the nightmare the Khmer Rouge has created and Buddha can once again look upon beauty. Then I beseech you to remember your favorite childhood game and restore the Enlightened One’s sight. One last word, dear child, and I caution you again never to repeat this. After we came to America, our sponsor died. To insure our safety, I assumed his identity. My birth name is Taun Keo.’”

  11

  Amy crossed the bridge spanning the Wasku River on the way to her morning aerobics class. Muddy water churned over the banks and surged over a tree that had fallen into the raging torrent. If the rain didn’t stop soon, the valley would be flooded.

  Amy refused to let that gloomy thought dampen her high spirits. Today, for a number of reasons, the whole world had a rosy cast. She had woken up without feeling nauseous for the first time in weeks, and Hue had informed her that she may have persuaded the person who witnessed the hit-and-run of Mai’s father to talk to her.

  Humming a tune, she parked in the athletic club’s lot and dashed inside. She smiled at Hue as she plopped down on her mat. “How’d you make out?” she asked.

  “We can go there after class.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “He has conditions,” Mai added, but when the instructor of the class launched into the first exercise she whispered, “I’ll tell you later.”