by Burton, Mary
Adrianna stiffened, but didn’t interrupt.
“Why does it matter?” Margaret said. “I visited him at the home a lot.”
“According to Craig’s doctor, you didn’t visit often,” Gage said.
“I rarely signed the log. The receptionist was always busy and it was easy to slip by.”
“Okay,” Gage said. “Tell me about your visit. How’d he appear?”
“Like always. He was just there. I talked. He didn’t talk back.”
“What time did you leave?”
Margaret picked at the threads of her shawl. “I didn’t stay long.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“And what did you talk about?”
“The gallery. And Janet, I think.”
“I think she’s had enough,” Reese said.
Gage didn’t budge. “What did you say about Janet?”
“I don’t recall.”
“That’s enough, Detective,” Reese said.
Gage wondered what information was locked in Margaret Barrington’s head. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get at it here, in front of this group. “Thank you.”
Adrianna kissed her mother and promised to return soon. Everyone left together. No one spoke until they were all downstairs.
“I told you she wasn’t up for visitors, Detective,” Reese said.
Gage slid his hands into his pockets. “She seemed all right to me. Remarkably clear.”
Adrianna didn’t comment. Clearly, she’d been dealing with her mother’s issues for a very long time.
This house reminded Gage of the nursing home. “Buried alive” came to mind and he itched to be in the sunlight. He had even more respect for Adrianna’s strength. The princess had a backbone of steel.
Gage and Vega walked outside and he savored the morning sun and fresh air.
“You and Adrianna dated?” Vega said. No missing the surprise in his voice.
“Four years ago. Before she married Craig.”
“Shit. What happened?”
Gage stared at the house. “Didn’t work out. She ended up reconciling with Craig and marrying him.”
“And you decided not to share this?”
“It has no bearing. Ancient history.”
Vega shook his head. “That’s crap. You sizzle when she’s close. I just figured it was her looks.”
Gage looked past Vega, his gaze narrowing when Adrianna emerged from the house. Reese was at her side, his hand resting on her lower back like there was something between them. After a few brief words with Reese, she allowed him to kiss her on the cheek and she moved toward her car.
“Ssss-izzle,” Vega said.
“Shut up.” Gage caught up to Adrianna as she slid behind the wheel of her car. He tapped on the glass and when she lowered it he said, “Where are you headed?”
Dark glasses tossed back his reflection. “Work.”
Gage’s gut urged him to take her somewhere private and just talk. So much needed to be said. “Do you have a few minutes?”
She hesitated. “Sure.”
“We need to talk.”
His cell phone rang. Damn. Straightening, he said, “Sorry,” as he unclipped the phone. “Hudson.”
“It’s Warwick. We’ve got a homicide. Body was found near the landfill in the western part of the county.”
The homicide detective wouldn’t have wasted time or the call on something that didn’t matter. “Go on.”
“She was shot in the head. Body was nude. Her hands were draped over her chest.”
“Like the others?”
“That’s what Tess thinks.”
Shit. He’d thought all along that the killer had been Craig Thornton. If ballistics matched, then he was right back at square one.
“I’ll be right there.” He closed the phone. “I’ve got to go.”
“Sure.” The softness had left her tone. Just like four years ago.
“Do me a favor. Lock your doors and be careful.”
“Why?”
“Just as a favor to me…do it.”
Adrianna arrived at her shop. Phyllis had opened up the shop and she was showing a vase to a well-dressed man by the counter. Adrianna opted not to stop, only waved as she made a beeline to the back.
The man turned as she passed. “Adrianna Barrington?”
She stopped. “Yes?”
The man was attractive. Tall, trim, blond, and very well dressed. His suit was tailored and his linen shirt monogrammed. “You’re a hard woman to catch up with.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m Brett Newington with Channel 10. I wanted to ask you a few questions about those graves found on your land.”
“Like I said before, I have nothing to say.”
“See our story today?”
“Yes.”
He moved toward her, smiling, and unmindful of what she’d said. “I want your reaction. Do you know who is in those graves?”
“Leave my store.”
“People want to know your thoughts, Ms. Barrington.”
“Go away.”
“I’m running with a story tonight at six with or without your comments.”
“Without.”
“Do you think your husband killed those women?”
“Go away.”
“My sources tell me he has connections to both women.”
He was fishing. “Phyllis, call the police.”
The wide-eyed woman moved to the front desk and picked up the receiver.
He held up his hands in surrender. “No need for that.” But instead of leaving he moved toward her. “You’re selling this store?”
“That’s right.”
“Because of the murders?”
“Phyllis. Dial.”
Phyllis started dialing.
“Hold that call, Phyllis.” He leaned a fraction toward her. “You look so much like your sister. It’s quite remarkable.”
“Nine-one-one, Phyllis.”
Brett shook his head. “And you’re just as cold a bitch as Kendall.”
“Cops are on their way,” Phyllis said.
Adrianna smiled. “Thanks, Brett. That’s just about the nicest thing I’ve heard today.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wednesday, October 4, 11:00 a.m.
The sun hung high in the sky when Gage arrived at the county landfill road. Warwick stood at the edge of the crime scene, his back to the road, hands on hips. Around him, police lights flashed.
In the woods beyond the yellow tape, Tess squatted next to the body as she covered the victim’s hands with paper bags. The bags protected evidence that might be trapped under the nail beds. The breathable paper prevented moisture buildup, which led to the destruction of biological evidence.
Gage moved toward Warwick. “When was she found?”
Warwick released a breath. “A few hours ago. Tess arrived at the scene before me. She’s the one that thought there might be a connection.”
“Why?”
“Go have a look.”
Without a word, Gage moved toward the yellow tape. Twenty yards beyond he glimpsed the victim. Red hair. Slim build. Nude. She lay on her back but he couldn’t see how her face and hands were positioned.
“Tess, you told Warwick that this one reminded you of the other two victims,” Gage said.
Tess straightened, moving her head from side to side. She walked toward the edge of the tape billowing gently between them. “The method of death is the same as the other two victims. Shot point-blank in the head. Looks like a .38 but ballistics will confirm if we have a match.”
“People are shot in the head all the time. Why link this to the other two?”
“Look at her left arm. Notice how it’s draped over her chest. The other two were positioned the same. Her head is askew but appears to have been turned to the right. Animals chewed the face up pretty good, which messed with the positioning.”
His gaze followed her outstretched h
and. “You’re right.”
“Blows the theory that Craig is our killer,” Tess said.
For too many years Gage had held on to the theory that Craig was his killer. Letting go of it wasn’t easy. “What have you learned here that we didn’t know before?”
“She appears to have been restrained by a chain around her waist. Judging by the chafing on the skin, the killer held on to her for a while.”
Gage looked closer at the victim. Red hair. Slim build. What was familiar about her? “Rigor mortis has left her limbs.”
“Right,” Tess said. “That takes around seventy-two hours.” She seemed to struggle with her anger. “And based on some bruising on her thighs, I think she was sexually assaulted. But the ME can tell you better than I.”
“Any identifying marks?” Gage said.
“She has three tattoos on her body: an eagle on the base of her spine, barbed wire on her arm, and stars on her ankle.”
Gage tightened and relaxed his jaw. “What can you tell me about her?”
“First glance, I’d say she was a heavy smoker based on the yellowing around her nail beds.” Her voice softened. “Back in the day, I’ll bet she’d been an attractive woman, but no more.”
What was it about her? He dug into his memory.
“And why dump her here?” Gage said. “Why not bury her like the others?”
“Think he’s getting sloppy?” Tess said.
Gage shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he wanted us to see her.”
“Why?”
“He’s proud of what he did. He wants us to know he’s still out there and active.”
“Getting chased makes the game more fun,” Tess said.
Gage agreed with her. “We need to figure out who this woman is. I’ve seen her somewhere.”
“I’ll roll prints as soon as we get to the medical examiner’s office,” Tess said. “If she’s in the AFIS system, we’ll find her.” AFIS was the automated fingerprint system and it had millions of prints in its database. The system was quick and could make matches in a couple of hours.
“Do you have anything else?” Gage said.
“I’ve got tire tracks by the road. Maybe six or seven different prints. I’ve made casts of them all and will let you know what I find out. I’ve also pulled hair and fiber samples.”
“Thanks.”
Gage returned to Warwick.
“You still think this victim knew Craig Thornton or Adrianna Barrington?” Warwick said.
“I’d bet money on it.”
Tess was bone tired when she arrived at the medical examiner’s office. At Gage’s request, she’d followed the hearse carrying Jane Doe’s body here. Gage wanted to make sure there were no glitches or any questions regarding chain of custody.
No one was saying it yet, but three murdered women who were all killed in the same way. One missing and unaccounted for. They had a serial killer.
She parked her vehicle behind the hearse in the underground garage. She got out of her car, closed and locked the door.
Tess waved to the body removal attendants. Dean, the first guy, was short with a stocky build. He wore dark clothes like his employer required, but diamond studs winked from his ears. The other attendant, Tony, was a tall black man with muscled arms. The only extra jewelry he wore was a cross around his neck.
“Hey, Tony and Dean,” she said. “We got to stop meeting like this.”
Tony opened the back of the hearse. “I hear ya, Tess. I hear ya. Too many bodies.”
“Three.” Dean sensed the tension radiating in her. “We can take it from here, Tess. Why don’t you call it a day?”
“Wish I could go. But I gotta follow Jane Doe all the way to Dr. Butler’s office. Gage and Warwick insisted I stay put until the doctor arrives.”
Unbothered, Tony shrugged. “Gage sure does play it all by the book. Kinda overdoes it as far as I’m concerned.”
“He’s a tight-ass, but he’s a good cop.” She didn’t always like the guy but respected his work. Her brothers vouched for him so she was willing to put up with the occasional inconvenience.
Tony and Dean pulled the gurney out and lowered the wheels. The three moved to the elevator and when the elevator door closed, they rode it to the sixth floor in silence.
“Yo, Tess, I have a friend who likes you and wants to ask you out,” Tony said.
Tess glanced up at her reflection in the elevator’s reflective doors. Ebony wisps stuck out from under her ball cap and dark mascara now smudged shaded the skin under her eyes. Toss in the shapeless blue jumpsuit covered in dirt and blood and scuffed steel-tipped boots and she looked ready for the asylum. “What’s wrong with him?”
Tony surveyed her appearance. “I don’t know. Must be a little messed up.”
Tucking a stray strand behind her ear, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d put on high heels and make-up. “Seems to be the kind that likes me the best.”
Dean grinned. “Good money says the doctor’s got a thing for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please.”
The two guys exchanged amused glances. “Be straight with us, Tess. We’ve got money riding on a bet.”
“You got a bet on my love life?”
“I’d bet you never go out with him,” Tony said.
“Why?”
“You’re a bitter woman, Ms. Kier,” Tony said. The amusement in his voice didn’t soften the words as much as he’d intended.
“I’m not bitter.” To prove it she tried to soften the muscles in her body. “I’m in the middle of a case, which I don’t want to screw up.” She wasn’t bitter. Intense, yes, but not bitter.
That managed to wipe the grins from their faces.
The doors opened and she followed the gurney down the long tiled hallway toward the autopsy room. Tony pushed the body through the swinging doors and immediately she was hit by the smell of formaldehyde and alcohol. Without thinking, she started to breathe through her mouth.
Standing in the corner of the autopsy room was Alex, who leaned against a metal counter, his head bowed over a clipboard.
Her stomach churned. Tony’s comment about the bet goaded her.
“We’ve got your Jane Doe, Doc,” Tony said.
Alex raised his head from the clipboard. His brown gaze skittered over her first before landing on Tony. “Thanks, Tony, Dean. I appreciate it.” He glanced back toward Tess. “You look tired.”
Did tired mean tired or did it mean you look like a wreck? Crap. “Thanks.”
Alex looked confused. “It wasn’t a compliment. It was an observation.”
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her coveralls. “Right.”
Dean grinned. “Gals don’t like to hear they look tired or fat.”
That seemed to surprise Alex. “I don’t think she looks fat at all.”
Tony shuddered. “Never even mention the F-word in front of a woman. When I was first married, my wife asked me if a dress made her look fat. I said it wasn’t the dress but her ass.”
Dean laughed. “He slept on the sofa for a month.”
“Tell me about it.”
Alex watched the interplay between the two men. “I just think she looks like she can use a break.”
“I told her on the elevator she looked a little rough,” Tony said.
“Can we stop analyzing my appearance?” Tess said. She dropped her gaze to her clipboard. The sheets Alex needed to sign were on top but pretending to rummage gave her something to do.
“So, Dr. Genius,” Tony said with a smile. “I got another puzzler for you. Saw it in the paper on Sunday.”
A smile lifted the edge of Alex’s lips. “Shoot.”
Tony pulled a rumbled piece of paper from his pocket and started to read. “What timepiece has the least number of moving parts?”
Tess rolled her eyes. “What does that have to do with anything? I thought you guys had another body to pick up?”
Tony shrugged. “He ain’t going anywhere
. Besides, I like to try and stump the doc.”
Alex pretended to think but she sensed he knew the answer before Tony had finished the question. “A sundial.”
“Right. I have one more.”
Alex’s face was a study in patience. “Shoot.”
Tess thought she’d jump out of her skin. “Look, Tony, I need paperwork signed so I can get back on the road. I still have two robberies to process.”
Tony looked disappointed. “So what’s got you in such a foul mood?”
“I’m always in a foul mood,” Tess said. “Hadn’t you noticed?”
Tony and Dean laughed. They transferred the black body bag to the metal table in the middle of the room before moving toward the doors.
“We’ll see you two later,” Tony said. “We got another customer waiting.”
Folks from the outside wouldn’t have understood such callousness in the presence of death. But all cops quickly learned that if you didn’t blow off some steam, you’d go nuts.
“Wise guys,” she muttered.
They left and suddenly the room took on a different air. Anyone else and she’d have made small talk: inquired about weekend plans or asked about the kids or hobbies. But with Alex she didn’t know what to say. So, she moved toward him and held out her clipboard. “I need your John Hancock.”
From a pocket protector he pulled out a pen. He glanced at the pages and scanned them. She’d heard he was a skilled speed-reader. After another moment, he signed the paper, his signature bold and firm, before handing the clipboard back to her.
“Thank you,” he said. He tucked the pen back in his pocket protector.
“That pocket protector standard issue at MIT?” she snapped before she thought.
He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “No.”
“Sorry, that didn’t come out right. Way too bitchy. I just don’t see guys who wear those things that often.”
He didn’t seem bothered. “No problem.”
The guy was being nice and still he annoyed her. God, she needed to check the calendar and make sure her period wasn’t due. “Gage and Vega will be here soon. They asked that I wait until they got here.”
Alex held her gaze. “So tell me what you have.”