by Alice Sharpe
“You look great,” Jack said and she caught his reflection staring at her image in the mirror. “Nice earrings.”
She turned. “Thanks. Danny bought them for me.”
He shook his head and approached her, wrapping his hands around her waist and kissing her lips. “I could have gone all day without knowing that.”
She laughed. “I picked them out.”
“Good.”
“Hmm—”
They drank a hurried cup of coffee that was still too weak before leaving the hotel room Sophie knew she would always remember. They emerged into a dry morning, holding hands.
And therein lay the conundrum. Sophie felt as if her soul was torn in two. On one hand, she’d never been this happy in her life. Jack was a fantastic lover, generous and thoughtful, yet powerful and assertive. Being special to him made her heart burst. But Sabrina was going on four days of missing and that same joyous heart knew with certainty that time was running out.
They stuffed their things into the trunk before Jack clicked the doors open. Sophie was about to open the passenger door when she saw a small plastic opaque bag tied to the handle.
“Someone was out late or up early distributing something or the other,” she said, glancing at the cars parked close by, looking for similar yellow bags. There were none. Jack showed up at her side, and for a second they both stared at the cheerful bag, feeling anything but cheerful.
“Do you want me to open it?” he asked.
“No, I’ll do it. I even have gloves in my pocket.” She pulled on her gloves and opened the string. They both peered inside and, to no one’s surprise, found themselves looking at an origami fox folded from a dollar bill.
“He’s back,” Sophie said.
Jack grabbed the bag from her hand. “Get in the car, honey. We’re going to go visit Detective Reece.”
* * *
“WE’VE GOT EVERY available man working on finding that nutcase,” Reece reported as he sent the yellow bag with its contents off to the lab. He poured them each a cup of coffee from his personal pot. The brew was so strong it reminded Jack of the stuff they used to drink back when he was a cop in LA. Some of the guys had complained it took the enamel off their teeth. Jack had liked it just fine.
“Paul Rey must have been here the whole time, watching Sabrina’s house,” Jack said. “We drove there right after arriving back in Astoria last night, then went to the hotel, where we parked in their lot. As you know, it’s unfenced.”
Reece’s cherubic smile faded. “I’ll set up a watch on the Cromwell house.” He dug in his cabinet and withdrew a file that he laid on his desk and opened. “This is what the loser looks like,” he said, turning the photo so they could see it. Paul Rey was about thirty in his prison mug shot and like every other man Jack had seen in an orange jumpsuit, the color didn’t become him. His blondish-red hair was cut very short, his mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes looked small and mean.
“He looks like Danny, only younger and a lot nastier,” Sophie said.
“You’re talking about Danny Privet,” the detective said. “I talked to a friend in the Portland bureau. He says Danny is a slick piece of work.”
“Yeah, but he’s not as smart as he thinks he is,” Jack said and Sophie nodded.
Reece turned the file back around. “By the way, Seattle police have questioned their mother, Nora Rey. She admits she told her older son Daniel about the inheritance but not Paul. More important, she claims she doesn’t know how to reach him to call off his continued attacks on you, Ms. Sparrow.”
“Well, so far he hasn’t been real successful and now thanks to his latest origami fox, we know he’s in town. Not the most subtle of stalkers.” She got to her feet. “I want to join the hunt for Sabrina’s car,” she said with a glance at the wall clock.
“They’ve divided into several small groups with each unit tackling a road that leads out of town. It’s a long shot they’ll find anything but I understand your concern. Try driving out to River Bend. They’re combing the verges of a road that connects over to Highway 30 and from there to Interstate 5 and just about anywhere else you want to go. You’ll be relieved to know the firehouse in Seaport and all points south for that matter are organizing similar searches.”
“Great. Come on, Jack.”
Before he could respond, the detective spoke up. “Just a minute now, I have another request of you two. I was wondering if you would mind going through Sabrina’s house again. The chief says if we can rule out a clandestine tryst with Kyle Woods we can rev up the search. Maybe you can find something in that house that will give us a definitive clue about her relationship with the guy and this time look for anything that might suggest Sabrina came back home after you saw her in Seaport.”
“Have you been checking to see if her phone or credit cards are being used or if she made an inordinate number of calls to Kyle before last weekend?” Sophie asked.
“We can’t subpoena records without an investigation,” Reece said. “But rest assured we’re keeping an eye out for Woods, too. You have to admit it’s odd for two ‘friends’ and coworkers to disappear at the same time, one with a false story about visiting a grandfather and the other while her husband is out of the country and neither of them using their phones or credit cards, neither one’s vehicle being noticed...nothing.”
“Then why would she call me?” Jack said.
“Who better to alibi whatever story she concocts than her hubby’s best friend?”
“You’ve got this all wrong,” Jack insisted.
“And all that aside, you have to keep in mind if she’s been abducted she’s in mortal danger,” Sophie added. “Tell him about Lisa, Jack. Tell him about the photographer.”
Sophie sat back down and the detective leaned his forearms on his desk, poised to listen. “Who’s Lisa?” he asked.
“An old friend, abducted and subsequently murdered ten years ago down in LA,” he said. He explained the situation as he had to Sophie a day or so before.
“So what’s the tie-in with Sabrina Cromwell? You didn’t even know her then, did you?”
“No. Buzz hadn’t met her yet. The only tie-in is the way she disappeared so suddenly and the fact that she was photographed cooking.” He explained about Sophie’s grandfather’s hiring a private detective to assemble dossiers on each of his granddaughters and to include photographs of them. “Sophie’s photo was taken by a guy in Portland. It’s a standard head-to-toe shot of her leaving the school where she teaches. Sabrina’s picture is sensual in nature.” Jack paused to hand the detective Dominick’s card with his name and address printed on it. “This is the investigator R. H. Cannon hired. He mentioned the photographer he engaged here in Astoria had a noticeable limp.”
“Wait a second,” the detective said as he studied Dom’s card. “Are you talking about Louis?”
“Louis Nash,” Jack said. “Do you know him?”
“He takes photographs here in town. Took my son’s graduation picture, my daughter’s, too. Nice guy. Pays his bills, supports his homebound mother, meets his obligations...never had one complaint against him.”
“Then you know him?”
“I’ve met him. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“How long has he lived here?”
“Near as I can figure, his whole life.”
“Was he ever in California?”
“I don’t know, Jack.”
“Have you had any missing women here in the last ten or fifteen years, maybe longer?”
“Are you accusing Louis Nash of—”
“I’m not accusing him of anything. I’m just asking.”
“Well, the answer is the only unsolved murder of a young woman I know of happened years ago. Popular consensus is her boyfriend killed her and no, he wasn’t Louis Nash. Listen, I see the guy around town all the time. He’s no
t real chatty, but he’s always polite.”
Jack brought up the composite sketch of Lisa’s suspected killer on his phone. “Does he look anything like this given the fact that the sketch was made ten years ago?”
The detective studied it just as Dom had. “Kind of. So do a hundred other guys. Is this the—”
“The man police suspect killed Lisa and at least one other woman. No one has ever identified him.”
Reece shook his head. “You’re on a crusade.”
“I was afraid you’d think that but the truth is, I’m just trying to find Sabrina. Won’t you at least ask Nash about taking her photograph? We know he trespassed on a neighbor’s porch pretending to be a painter in order to get the shot he ultimately sent Dominick Taylor. Isn’t trespassing enough cause to question him, even unofficially if that’s as far as you’re willing to go?”
“If the neighbor comes in here and files a complaint—”
“Detective, come on. Can’t you just talk with him?”
Reece sighed, glanced at Sophie and ran a hand through his gray hair. “Yeah, okay, I can do that but it’s not going to do you any good. I don’t for a minute think a guy making a living by taking someone’s photograph has a thing to do with anything—I think Paul Rey is the culprit. I think he killed the janitor down in Seaport to get at Sabrina. She must have run off to meet up with her boyfriend when he wasn’t looking, but then Sophie shows up out of the blue. He mistakes her for her twin sister. And here we are.”
“You’re basing this whole thing on Sabrina willingly leaving Seaport of her own volition. But what if she didn’t?” Jack argued. “We agree Paul Rey’s motive for targeting Sabrina is to eliminate her before her grandfather dies and leaves her half a fortune, right?”
“Right.”
“If he has her, if heaven forbid he’s already killed her, then why go after Sophie? He’d have to know she isn’t Sabrina.”
“But he knows there are twins,” Reece said. “Maybe he figures if both of the girls are dead, Cannon will leave all his dough to his loyal housekeeper and her two loser sons.”
Jack had to admit that was a remote possibility. Rey wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. “I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to talk to Nash,” he said with a reluctant nod. “I’ll call you later and find out what you learn.”
Sophie got to her feet. “After I finish the search I’ll go through the house again as you requested. By the way, did you get the test results back on the food off the tray?”
“The lab hasn’t responded yet,” Reece said. “What with it being a holiday weekend, I don’t expect we’ll hear back before Friday.”
Jack knew what Sophie was thinking because he thought it, too.
By Friday, Sabrina would either be safe in her house with her cat and her husband or she would be dead.
Chapter Ten
Much of the land surrounding Astoria consisted of rivers and coastal plains, but it quickly changed as you traveled inland. Jack and Sophie soon found themselves driving steep, twisty country roads abutted with forests. Occasionally a dirt driveway fronted with a mailbox would announce a home existed somewhere out of sight but mainly it was lonely, desolate-looking countryside that was probably quite beautiful if not seen through the lens of unbearable worry.
They finally found the search already in progress and parked. Before they were completely out of the car, Sue jogged up to them. She was dressed in jeans and boots, like Sophie. Red frizz escaped from under the cap of a Portland Trailblazers cap.
“I saw you drive up,” she said by way of greeting. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure,” Sophie said. “What’s up?”
It took Sue a second to speak, during which she stared at her feet and then at them. “I think I was a little flippant concerning Sabrina the other day,” she finally said.
Sophie shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You were just telling us things as you saw them.”
“Yeah, well, the ugly truth is that after Barbara left Kyle I thought he and I might get together.”
“Barbara is Kyle’s wife?” Jack asked.
“Yeah. Anyway, it turns out Kyle only wanted to be around Sabrina. They had this bond... I guess they knew each other in high school. Face it, I got jealous. I mean she’s got a smart, gorgeous husband and she looks like a movie star—why does she need Kyle, too? Anyway, when the police questioned me and I thought about what I’d insinuated about the two of them to you guys, well, I regretted it. I’m really sorry I was so snotty about the possibility Sabrina would walk away from a friend. I want to do whatever I can to help her.”
“Then you don’t think she’s off with Kyle?”
“I guess it’s possible but it seems unlikely she’d ask for your help and then abandon you like that.”
“I agree,” Jack said.
“I’m glad you told us,” Sophie told Sue with a gentle squeeze of her arm.
Sue peered closely at her. “You look so much like Sabrina, but you’re different, too.”
“She’s working on developing an edge,” Jack said, nudging Sophie’s side.
Sophie laughed. “He’s right, I am. Anyway, Sabrina and I are identical twins but we were raised apart. We’re bound to have our differences.”
Sue nodded. “Come join our side of the road. All we’ve found so far, thank goodness, are a few unfortunate smashed critters and enough garbage to fill a swimming pool.”
The terrain was heavily wooded and steep. On one side of the narrow road a shallow ravine climbed uphill and on the other the land dropped precipitously to a tributary river below that was all but invisible given the density of the foliage. In full winter rainy season, the sound of rushing water rumbled in the background.
The odd thing for Sophie was that she knew from about the second step she took along the south side of the road that they were close. Sabrina was near, she could almost feel it in her bones... What she couldn’t feel was in what state her twin might be. Hurt, scared, alive, heaven forbid, dead... Sophie had no idea but the feeling that she was close was as real as the dirt beneath her feet.
A ticking bomb replaced her heartbeat.
“Jack, listen, I have to tell you something,” she said, and whispered in his ear. “I sense Sabrina is close by.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s just a feeling. Not the first I’ve had and maybe not real at all.”
“Then we’ll keep looking, okay?”
She nodded and matched him step for step, studying the roadside for tire tracks and broken branches—anything that would suggest a vehicle had left the road and tumbled out of sight.
“Here, over here!” someone called and along with everyone else, Sophie and Jack darted ahead to join a group staring downhill at the disturbed terrain running down toward the river before vanishing into a tangle of underbrush. Tire prints in the mud beside the road were indistinct at best.
“Okay, folks, listen up,” a burly guy of about thirty said as he joined them. “You all know me, I’m Captain Philips with the Astoria division. We all know this is an informal search but just in case...fan out at arm’s length and go down the slope, but not directly on this path. We don’t want to destroy any evidence. If you see anything, mark it with one of the flags I gave you, and for good measure, stay there with whatever it is you found. Move slowly and watch where you step.”
Sophie stood between Sue and Jack, nerves skittering over her skin like a thousand little ant bites as they started their descent. What if Sabrina’s car was down here and Sabrina was beyond saving?
But there was another fear and that was that someone might have dumped Sabrina’s body down here after torturing her and murdering her. They might even have burned her remains like Lisa’s. How did you steel yourself for such a possibility?
She searched her mind and heart for some reassur
ing feeling that this wasn’t the case, but whatever brief connection she thought she’d felt to her sister would not come back and she was as much in the dark as everyone else.
She glanced up in time to see Jack studying her. He took her hand and held it tightly in his.
The smell reached them halfway down the slope. Rotting flesh, she thought, and her stomach lurched. Jack’s hand turned into the only thing keeping her from floating away, from escaping this moment.
“It looks like a four-wheel-drive vehicle came down here and backed up or something,” Jack said softly. “The ground is all torn up.”
“Jack, the smell—”
“Hold on, don’t go imagining things,” he said. They all stopped when the thicket in front of them became the last barrier to what was beyond.
“Yikes, what’s that smell?” someone asked.
Someone else produced a machete and began whacking at the thicket, pushing it aside. Sophie saw a large shape emerging, rust and white paint. Her heart caught in her throat as Jack whispered, “Oh, God, is that Buzz’s old Blazer?” She held her breath as the first of the branches fell.
It was not a Blazer and while Buzz’s car might be old, this one was far older. It was also not alone. An old washing machine lying on its side and various car parts along with a rusty roll of chicken wire and an old toilet sporting a bowl full of weeds accompanied it.
And the cause of the smell was explained by a freshly butchered carcass.
“Oh, man, somebody poached a deer and cleaned it out here,” Sue said.
“Everybody return to the road,” the deputy said. “Same rules, watch where you step. I’m going to make sure a dead deer is all we got going on down here.”