“The one that had Hanuman Janitorial Service painted on it?” B.J. asked.
She nodded, saw the waiter advancing on them, and scanned the menu.
After the waiter had taken their order, B.J. said, “So Victor and Kim may be in this together.”
“Not necessarily. Victor could have been doing some cleaning.” She glanced at the next item in her book. “Chea Le has an arrest record for prostitution and petty larceny in Seattle.”
Jed rattled the ice in his empty glass. “Did you get an address?” He signaled the waiter and pointed to his glass.
“She no longer lives there. I talked to a woman who has been sharing an apartment with Chea.”
B.J. beamed at her. “Good work, kitten.”
She paused as the waiter served their salads. “Chea moved out two weeks ago and her friend hasn’t heard from her since.”
“The timing’s right.” Jed took a long pull on the drink a cocktail waitress had delivered, picked up his fork, and attacked his salad. “B.J. says the woman died at least ten to twelve days ago.”
“True,” Amy said. “According to Chea’s friend, she bought a blue Honda not too long ago. I’ve got a license number of ATY434; I also have a serial number.”
“Didn’t our witness to the hit-and-run say the license number contained an A and a 4?” B.J. asked.
“That’s right.”
“But he also said a man was driving.” B.J. tugged the edge of his mustache. “So someone in Wheeler had access to her car.”
“Looks that way.” Amy switched her attention to Jed. “Did my father tell you the tire tracks I cast match those of the Honda?”
“Yes.”
She made a small check mark on her list. “Dad, I don’t mink I mentioned that it appeared as if the vehicle might have gotten mired in the mud.”
“Aha! The killer may have been forced to leave the body in the car until he and his accomplice could get the vehicle out.” He nodded and stroked his beard. “He killed her and left her lying on the rear seat”
“What did the stain show?” Amy said as she scribbled down the information.
“Body fluids soaked through to the padding. Type A blood. I sent out for a PCR.”
She shifted on her chair, but a change of position didn’t ease the ache in her back. “Anything else new?”
“A DNA report came in. Mai was raped by two men.”
“Oh, God.” She gripped the edge of the table. “Cam wasn’t one of them, was he?” She waited impatiently while the waiter served their dinner.
“No,” B.J. said with a kindly expression. “The DNA of saliva taken from the cigarette butts we found in the woods were from the same two men. And the tissue from under her fingernails matched one of them.” He made a face. “Now all we need is a couple of suspects.”
“Have either of you seen an Asian man with a scar on the right side of his face?”
B.J. paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “What about him?”
“I saw him in a cocktail lounge in Chinatown.” She frowned and searched her memory again. “I’m certain I’ve seen him before.”
“So you spent the day in a cocktail lounge.” Jed emptied his glass and signaled for a refill. “No wonder you’re so tired.”
Amy caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, meaningfully. “Did you hear from Cam?” she asked, hoping to keep his attention on the case.
“Me hear from a man who expects me to save him from death row? Don’t be ridiculous. Apparently, I’m pretty marginal to this entire case.”
“That’s not true, Jed.”
“It isn’t? Would you care to give me your interpretation, Doctor?”
B.J. lay his napkin beside his plate and got to his feet. “You’ll have to excuse me, kids, I’ve got some work to finish.”
Amy turned to him with an angry expression. “Dad!”
“See you in the morning, Amy.”
Amy clenched her teeth. There ought to be a law against fathers who played cupid.
Jed leaned across the table. “What do you think I am? A dirty old man? You don’t have to bring your father along to keep me from touching you.”
Amy set down her fork. “This isn’t working out, Jed. Perhaps it would be better if you contacted another investigator.”
“I don’t want anyone else, dammit. I want you.”
“No, you don’t. You’re rebounding from a divorce and you’re trying to fill the void.”
“I just want to hold you.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t enough for you and you know it.” She massaged her throbbing forehead. “I’m going through a pretty traumatic time myself. I don’t have the strength to cope with your emotional needs as well as my own.”
“Am I that hard to take?”
“No, of course not. You’re an attractive man. I’m sure a dozen women in this room would be glad to go home with you.”
“Then why won’t you?”
“I told you why this morning.” She tossed her napkin on the table and stood up. “Evidently we can’t keep this relationship on a professional basis. I think you’d better get someone else.”
“I’m sorry.” He gazed at her with a stricken expression. “Please stay, Amy. I’ve had a bit too much to drink, I guess. I promise I’ll stick to business.”
Damn! She sank back onto the chair. When she got home, her father was going to get an earful.
Amy gathered an arm load of towels from the top of the drier, trudged into the bedroom, and began to fold them. The previous night had been a replay of countless evenings she’d spent with her ex-husband. She’d sat in the lounge at the Cove until twelve o’clock, listening to Jed’s tearful story of his failed marriage. Then she’d taken him home because he was too drunk to drive.
She stowed the towels in the linen closet, got dressed, and tried to quiet her quivering nerves. Today, she’d be interviewing the two women who’d answered her newspaper ad for a nanny.
The first one she’d arranged to meet at ten. The second one’s appointment was this afternoon.
Upon realizing the wrong type of live-in nanny might be as abrasive as a bad marriage, she’d given the interviews a lot of thought, and decided to try a two-part system. First, they’d meet in a neutral setting just to talk so she could get an impression of whether or not the woman fit her qualifications. If the applicant passed the initial test, she would arrange a second meeting at the apartment for an in-depth conference to make certain she and the woman were compatible.
On her way out, Amy stopped in the office to talk to her father. She found him at the computer. “Were you able to learn anything about the piece of cloth?”
“The athletic club does its own laundry. They send garments to a seamstress in Wheeler if they need mending.”
“Great. Did you talk to her?”
“I tried, but the lady and I had a language barrier. She was also obviously terrified.”
“Then she’s not any more likely to talk than the man who witnessed the hit-and-run.”
“What about asking your friend Hue to speak to her? The woman might tell her things she wouldn’t tell us.”
“It’s worth a try. Anything else?”
B.J. grinned. “After I made a few threats, Fenwick dug up a worn shirt for fabric comparison.” He rubbed his hands together. “Matched our scrap exactly, right down to the polymer fibers.”
“Fantastic.” She leaned against the edge of me desk and swung her leg. “I’d like to discuss last night.”
“Nice fellow, that Jed. Good personality. Sharp mind. He’ll go places.” He shot a quick glance in her direction. “Did you and he clear up your differences?”
“Jed’s stubborn, opinionated, sexist, and he’s got a quick temper.”
“Ah … you have similar personalities. That’s a start.”
She folded her arms. “He’s just gone through a divorce and he drinks too much. I had to drive him home and put him to bed.”
“He’ll straighten
up. Any man might react that way under similar circumstances.”
“Oh, really? After he ‘straightens up’ will he stop trying to get me into bed?”
B.J.‘s ears turned red. “Most men get around to that sooner or later, don’t they?”
“Oh, they do, do they?” She slid off the desk and braced her hands on her hips. “How dare you condemn me for having Nathan’s twins, yet say it’s all right for me to sleep with Jed.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Yes you did and don’t you ever pull a stunt like last night again.”
“But … dammit, Amy, I only want to,”
“I know what your intentions are. Do I keep lining up middle-aged matrons for you to date?”
“I’m used to being alone.” He thrust out his chin. “I don’t need anyone.”
“That is a lie. You’ve never been alone. You’ve always had me either at home or only a phone call away. If I left town, you’d be beating the bushes for a woman who’d move in with you.”
“See? You admit it yourself. Everybody needs a partner. Someone to share their joys and triumphs with.” He regarded her with a crestfallen expression. “That’s all I want for you.”
“Okay, but what about what I want, Dad? Shouldn’t that be at least as important?” When he only regarded her sadly, she turned and walked out of me office.
Tongue-and-groove pine and booths upholstered in brown calico gave the Maple Leaf Café a cozy atmosphere. Amy located Madge Zimmer and took a seat across from her. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Zimmer,” she said, and smiled warmly at the woman.
“I expected to be invited to your home.” Madge Zimmer tossed her head and not a hair dislodged from the woman’s lacquered blond coif. Her gaze traveled over Amy’s woolen hunter-green slack suit “I couldn’t help wondering if there was something you didn’t want me to know.”
“Not at all,” Amy said with forced cordiality. “I decided a less formal approach would be better for the initial meeting.” She beckoned to a waitress. “Shall we have brunch?”
Amy ordered tea and a chicken salad. When Ms. Zimmer hesitated over the menu, Amy said. “Order anything you like, I’m paying.”
The woman chose sliced roast sirloin of beef with a wine glaze and chocolate cake for dessert.
“Are you married?” Amy asked as they started on their salads.
“Not anymore.” Ms. Zimmer pulled her lips into a tight line. “And good riddance. No sense of responsibility. Took off the minute the children got out of high school. Left me with nothing but a house and a beat-up car.”
“Well, you still have your children.” Amy poured cream into her tea.
A drop of cream landed on the tabletop and Ms. Zimmer wiped it up before it even had a chance to settle. “Humph,” she said. “They’re scattered to the wind. Never write. Don’t give a whit whether I’m alive or dead.”
A chunk of chicken stuck in Amy’s throat and she gulped water to get it down. “That’s too bad. Maybe they’ll visit when they have families.” She pulled a ceramic container toward her and extracted some sugar substitute. Before she had the corner torn off the packet, Ms. Zimmer had restored both the sugar and cream to its proper place.
Ms. Zimmer finished her salad and started on the entree. “My daughter has a boy three and a girl two.”
“That’s nice. I’ll bet you enjoy them.”
“I might if she’d discipline them once in a while.” Ms. Zimmer used her knife to separate baby carrots from asparagus tips and the asparagus tips from her sliced sirloin. “They run through the house whooping and yelling like a bunch of Indians.”
Amy set down her teacup and laid her crumpled napkin on the table. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Zimmer. I believe I’ve learned all I need to know.” She stood up. “I’ll get the check.”
On the way home, a feeling of hopelessness came over her. If Madge Zimmer was the type of woman who thought herself qualified to care for children, she’d never find the right person.
When she arrived at the office, her father was gone and the red light on the answering machine was blinking.
She pushed the button and her heartbeat quickened at the sound of Nathan’s voice. “Amy,” he said, his deep mellow voice drawing out the syllables in a way she’d grown accustomed to. “You’re in danger. Call me tonight at eight.”
After replaying the tape three times just for the pleasure of hearing Nathan’s voice, she erased it and sat down at the computer to finish typing her case progress notes.
She had scarcely gotten started when the phone rang. Annoyed at the interruption, she snatched up the receiver and said curtly, “Prcscott and Prcscott, forensic investigators.”
“Amy, this is Captain Morelli. I’ve got the results on those fingerprints you brought in.”
“Your department is super efficient. Captain.”
“We aim to please,” he said and laughed. “The prints found on the seat adjustment lever and the Honda’s steering wheel are the same as your suspect number one. Those taken from the sides and trunk of the car match those of suspect number one and suspect number two. So your two perps were also involved in the second woman’s death. However, APIS still doesn’t have a thing on either one of them.”
“How about our Jane Doe?”
“Oh yes, let’s see…” Amy heard the sound of shuffling papers. “Here it is. No wonder I didn’t remember the name, it’s an odd one. Your Jane Doe is a Miss Chea Le.”
28
Amy sat at a corner table in a deli on the fringe of the Thaxton University campus, watching students rush in and out She studied each girl, wondering if she could be the person the university counselor had called her about as a possible nanny for the twins.
She focused on a young woman standing just inside the front door, her shoulders hunched, her eyes downcast. Amy recognized the stance. God knows it’d taken her long enough to break herself of that self-conscious posture.
Her attention shifted to an impromptu touch-football game going on outside the window. Rain clouds had given way to sunshine. The fair weather seemed to have put everyone in high spirits.
A tremulous voice broke her out of her reverie. “Dr. Prescott?”
Amy looked up to find the woman she’d been watching moments before hovering near her table. The tall, thin woman’s straight black hair hung to the middle of her back and she looked to be older than the other students Amy had seen.
Amy smiled at her. “Yes, I’m Dr. Prescott.”
The young woman twisted her hands together. “I’m Mary Little Bear. My counselor said to meet you here.”
“Thank you for coming, Mary,” Amy said. “Would you like to talk here, or shall we walk?”
Mary brushed her hair out of her eyes and peered around at the young people sprawled on wooden chairs, all eating and talking at the same time. “It gets pretty noisy in here.”
Amy got to her feet, “Okay, let’s walk. I haven’t had my exercise for the day.” She regretted the decision when she discovered that Mary was a fast walker. “Let’s sit a bit,” Amy said when she spotted a bench. “I’m afraid I’m out of shape.” She grinned at Mary. “In more ways than one.”
“How far along are you?” Mary asked hesitantly.
“Only four months, but I’m expecting twins.”
“Twins.” Mary settled down on the bench beside her, “That’s nice. Is, is this your first pregnancy?”
Amy nodded. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
Mary picked at a ragged cuticle. “I’m the oldest of seven.”
“Wow, that must be a handful.”
“Sometimes.” Mary relaxed against the back of the wooden bench. “But I’m used to it.” She folded her hands in her lap and gazed across the campus.
After several moments of silence, Amy realized she’d have to initiate the discussion. “Why don’t you tell me something about your childhood?”
Mary looked startled. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’
t know,” Amy said, waving her arms. “What you did. What your mother is like.” She spread her hands. “Just talk, so I can get to know you. I’m new at this sort of thing.”
“I’m not too good at talking,” Mary said, her eyes flashing with self-deprecating humor. “The kids at school used to call me long, tall, tight-lipped Mary.”
“I used to get skinny ninny all the time.” Amy chuckled. “I can laugh about it now, but it sure wasn’t funny then. I never seemed to fit in.”
Mary’s lips parted in a lopsided smile. “Neither did I.” She pushed restless hands in and out of her jacket pockets. “My father died when I was five and my mother remarried. I was six when she had the first baby and every few years she’d have another one. If my stepfather couldn’t find a job, my mother would go to work and I’d take care of the house and kids.”
“How old is the youngest?”
“Six.” A gentle smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I helped deliver Jacy.” She smiled again. “I think he was the prettiest of all of them.”
“You were there when she delivered?”
“I tried to be. Whenever she got close to her time, I’d beg her not to have the baby until I got home from school. If I was there, the midwife would let me help with the delivery.” She interlaced fingers whose nails had been bitten to the quick and let out a long sigh. “I sure miss the kids.” She swallowed and blinked her eyes.
“I can see how you would. I was an only child and I used to long for a sister. But my mother deserted us and my father never remarried.” She chewed the inside of her bottom lip. He should have, she thought. He had too much love and not enough people to give it to.
She blew out her breath and glanced at Mary. “I suppose you put off college because of the children.”
“That’s right. I’m nearly twenty-seven and my mother kept worrying that I was waiting too long, but I didn’t want to leave until Jacy started school.”
Her face lit up. The first day, he was so proud. He put on his new clothes and marched out to wait for the school bus with the rest of the kids. Funny little guy kept setting his shiny red Mickey Mouse lunch box on the ground and opening it up. She laughed. “He’s some kid.”
Lethal Legacy Page 17