“You’re a homicide detective,” Rowan said. “You see bodies all the time. It’s your job.”
“Yeah, but… well, this sounds awful, but thank God, most of the time my bodies are fresher than this. But Al… Al has to go in a lot where water and decay have been working at the remains. You’ve been through a lot worse, huh?”
“Yeah, I’ve been through worse,” Al said. Then he shrugged. “But this… this is pretty damn bad.”
Teddy looked over at Rowan. “You’ve been through it pretty bad, too, huh? You found your wife, right?”
Rowan stared back at him. Ted Henley kept including him in everything he did. Yet it was as if he was seeking out a weakness.
“Yeah, I was with my wife. And Billy—the old drummer for my band,” he explained to Al. “There was a car accident. I tried to get his keys from him. He had an extra set, a magnet under the driver’s seat. I followed when I knew he had gone.” He hesitated, then looked at Teddy. “That was bad. Real bad. I got his wife out of the car. Then it exploded.”
“Don’t let no one ever tell you any different,” Al said. “Death don’t ever get easy. You kind of get a numb feeling at times. ’Cause you know things should never be so horrible. You wonder how in hell there can be a God when man does to man what he does. It don’t ever get easy. Ever. And don’t ever let it get too easy. That’s when you know you’re no better than the animals out there. Hell, you can’t blame the gators for something like this. They’re just predators. Part of the food chain. No, when you’re looking for a real savage animal, seems to me you’re always looking for a human being.”
They were nearly back to Big Al’s.
Rich Mira, from the M.E.’s office, was waiting for them. He’d been working with the body parts brought in so far. Rolf Lunden and his team stayed outside at first, supervising as their finds were turned over to the assistant M.E.
“Did you come up with any answers yet?” Teddy asked.
“Yeah, she didn’t drown, I can tell you that.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“A certainty, no. But you’ve brought me more to work with.”
“Well, what do you think?” Teddy demanded.
“Detective Henley, how many times have we worked together? You know damn well that as soon as I have something solid, I’ll tell you.”
“Well, work fast. I need something solid.”
“Let’s get a beer!” Al Smith told Rowan, leading him into Big Al’s. Smith bought the beer.
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“Good.” Smith grinned. “You can sign a CD for my kid.”
“Sure. My pleasure.”
“Hey, you want a Twinkie?” Al Smith asked, his eyes brightening as he saw the display near the checkout counter.
“Twinkie, no. I guess I’ll pass.”
No Twinkie, but the beer tasted good, just like the coffee had. He drained it, then was surprised to turn and find Al waiting with another, grinning. “Hell, son, you ain’t driving.”
“Thanks. Excuse me. I’ve got to make a phone call.”
He tried Sam at work, but she had left. He tried her house and got her machine. He left a message, then hung up, wondering why he felt so disturbed.
He checked his watch. She should still have been Ht work. Maybe she was on her way from one place to another.
He closed his eyes tightly, regretting his carelessness in leaving her. Even for a minute. He fought the sense of panic seizing him. It was just the body parts he’d been finding.
No. There was good reason to feel afraid.
The phone call. The threatening phone call she had received.
He tried her at work again and talked to Didi. “Didi, this is Rowan Dillon. Do you know where Sam went?”
“Where she went… well, I’m not sure, actually. I think Sam went to lunch. Late. I could ask Joe, except I haven’t seen him for a while, either. Let’s see… did Sam come back… well, honestly, it was just so busy in here today. Marnie’s brother came by, looking for Sam. Everyone was anxious to talk to her, you know?”
“If you find her in the next few minutes, have her call Big Al’s. After that, have her beep Teddy, okay? We’ll be on our way back in soon.”
“Well, of course. Don’t worry about her, though, Mr. Dillon—she’s probably just hiding out.”
“All right, Didi. Thanks. As soon as you see her, have her call, either Big Al’s or Teddy’s beeper. Don’t forget.” He hung up. As he did so, he saw that Rick Mira was coming into Big Al’s.
Mira went straight for the coffee dispenser. He poured coffee.
“Hey! Detective Henley!” Mira called.
“Yeah, doc, what is it?” Teddy called back.
“You wanted something solid, right?”
“Yeah! You’ve got something on our victim?”
“Victims.”
“What?”
“Solid fact, Detective. Victims. Unless you had one very interestingly deformed woman, you’ve found body parts to two people.”
* * *
What a day, Sam thought, entering her house, walking straight to the back, plopping into a chair, and staring out at her pool and the bay beyond.
Lunch with Kevin Madigan had been bad enough. He’d been defiant about the club, insisting that his own involvement had been because of Marnie and that it was just financial, nothing more. It made big bucks for everyone involved. She’d had a headache by the time she left him.
As soon as she got back to work, she’d found Phil, the contractor, working a Nautilus machine, his teeth grating as he strained, biceps bulging, face angry. Then, of course, he’d released the weight he’d been pressing and smiled at her. “No Marnie yet, eh? The cops have been all over me. Why can’t they understand that she owes me money?”
“You should go a little slower on the lift, Phil. You’re not giving those biceps the full benefit of the movement,” she said.
“What? Hell, honey, there’s all the benefit you can imagine in these biceps.”
He grinned. She smiled back pleasantly.
“With the work I do, hon, I don’t really need to be in here.”
“Then why are you in here?” Kevin asked, walking around Sam to stare right at Phil.
“Why?” Phil said blankly. Then he laughed. “Well, I may be the supervisor, but that still means getting down and dirty, you know. Got to keep strong. Don’t want to strain anything while I’m working.”
“Now, that makes sense,” Kevin said. “And I was thinking that you were a member here just to meet all Sam’s rich clients who might want their costly homes redone.”
Phil’s face darkened. “Hell, Kevin, and I thought that you kept your membership here just to acquire her wealthy clients who might sue one another.”
“All right, guys,” Sam said, pulling on Kevin’s arm. She smiled, afraid that at any minute they were going to start demonstrating the power they had gained from her gym. “Pay your gym bills, and your motives are entirely your own. Kevin, come on.”
“Good. Thank God. Let’s get out of here. The old man is on a walker.”
“What?”
“Mr. Daly is in there, walking on a treadmill. Running on a treadmill. If he has a heart attack, I don’t want to be around.”
Kevin had been holding her arm, forcefully. She wrenched free and walked toward the room where she had been earlier. It was filled with mirrors, and had televisions in every corner. Each person could use speakers that broadcast either TV, or music. Just as Kevin had said, Mr. Daly was on a treadmill. He wasn’t running, and she didn’t think he was in any great danger of a heart attack. He was walking quickly. He wasn’t listening to the television or to music. He looked like Phil. He was wearing an expression of anger so fierce that she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. What if Marnie had been kidnapped and killed? By someone she knew, someone close to her. Someone who had kidnapped and killed before.
Someone with whom Marnie had had sex. That left such a wide array of suspects!
Joe was by the door, talking to a new client. He saw Sam’s face as she headed out with Kevin.
“Careful,” he warned her jokingly. “You look mad enough to kill someone.” That was because she was.
Sam walked out back and stood by her pool, watching the bay for a minute. The breeze was picking up. A definite indication of a storm to come.
She turned toward Marnie’s house. The lawn and shrubs showed signs of being trampled. Marnie would not be happy.
She looked back at the water, sighing softly. She thought she heard a car door slam. Walking around her yard, she checked the street. There was a cop car out in front of Rowan’s house. He must have come back from his diving expedition.
Did he know that she was home? Maybe not—she’d put her car in the garage. She walked on down to the dock, looking for Mollie. The sea cow wasn’t around. Maybe Teddy had come back with Rowan. Maybe Teddy knew some of the results from the search of Marnie’s house.
She walked around again, but the police car was gone. With a shrug, she came back to her own yard. The wind was lessening. Maybe the storm would blow over.
Yet…
It was darker. Dark… overcast. Gray. Menacing.
She looked toward her house. She bit her lower lip, realizing she had left her back door open when she walked around to the front.
Beth Bellamy let out a sigh, pausing to mop her face with a tissue. It was a long walk from the main road to the houses at the far end of the peninsula. But she’d made that walk with the solid determination that she would manage to speak with Rowan.
Or with his neighbor. The girl he’d been sleeping with before. While still married. Oh, she knew so much about him now. Beth was very proud of herself. She’d done her homework. And she stayed right on top of things.
He was going to talk to her. And if she couldn’t find him… well, she might just find his lover. Beth smiled. Too bad about the girl. He was a hunk. Tall, dark, and handsome. Moody. Like Heathcliff on the moors. She’d gotten really great interviews with some of the powerful men she’d slept with before.
Some of her colleagues abhorred her for her methods. She thought they were foolish. She was young, attractive, and energetic. She was going to have a sex life no matter what. It made good solid sense to combine that sex life with getting great stories.
She paused again, watching the houses. No cars in sight… was that good or bad? Well, she would just sneak around a bit. Wait. Wait all night if she needed to.
She’d worn the right shoes—sneakers. And she’d actually worn the right clothing—a green halter-top dress with a swinging shirt. Cool and easy to walk in—and easy to hide against the bushes in.
Rowan’s house rose before her. She paused, then ducked against the foliage and ran around the back.
There she was…
Sam.
There, so close.
Staring back at her house now. Afraid? She should be!
He watched. The way she moved, the way she looked out on the world.
He remembered. Watching her. With him. Watching the way she moved against his body. The things that she did. Watching another man… touching her. Feeling her flesh. She wasn’t pure. She pretended, just like all the rest…
She wouldn’t let things go. She just wouldn’t let things alone.
She knew!
He felt an awful sense of panic. She was dangerous, so dangerous… and still.
He remembered.
Watching her touch…
Being touched… naked… there.
* * *
Sam started, spinning around. She thought she had heard something. Not from her house. From Marnie’s place? Just the wind, the rustle of the bushes. And still… she was ever hopeful.
“Marnie?”
No answer.
“Rowan?”
And still the bushes were rustling…
“Damn you, whoever you are—!”
Someone was there, stalking her.
“Stop! Damn you, stop!” she cried. There was darkness now, all around her. The sound of the wind, the menace of the night…
There! In the bushes again. Someone, something…
Leaving? Hiding.
“Damn you, come out!”
To her own amazement, she charged the bushes. There was more rustling. More and more.
Whoever it was was going to get away.
“Stop!”
There was suddenly silence.
She spun around.
And screamed.
For someone was there, in the darkness. Not in front of her. Behind her.
Reaching out.
Reaching for her.
A hand came through the shadows of the night…
Chapter 20
Loretta was always cheerful when she worked. It was sometimes a facade, but an important one. And basically she liked people. She believed sexuality was a part of human nature and that most of the time people were just out to have a good time.
Her party began quite early—cocktail hour. She barely had time to make it there from work. It was a bachelor party for a business type, a guy in his late thirties, finally taking the plunge. First-time marriage.
She’d been procured by the best man, the groom’s brother, a nice enough fellow. He was shy, turning red as he talked to her when she reached the private club on the beach where it was being held. “Bobby’s never been a really wild guy,” the brother explained. “But, you know, I figure he’s got a few fantasies. Everybody does, right?”
Loretta wondered if that was true. She didn’t think there was much left she could fantasize about. After a while, almost everything had become okay, just another part of the job. She’d been with men, with women, black, white, yellow, and in between, and in all honesty, she didn’t see much left. She’d been tied, spanked, sandwiched, and she’d wielded a whip while dressed in leather.
“Yeah, everybody’s got a fantasy…” the brother said with a sigh.
And he was right. She did have a fantasy. Just to be loved by the right kind of guy.
“Don’t worry,” she said impulsively, smiling. “I’ll make sure he has the time of his life.”
“Thanks. Hey, you’re really nice. What’s your name?”
“Sheila,” she lied.
She never told the truth. She never wanted her secret life discovered by anyone who wasn’t leading the same secret life.
“Thanks, Sheila. I felt a little strange doing this. You know, I got your boss’s number from a friend who got it from a friend who got it from a friend. I felt a little weird. I mean, this guy isn’t even listed as an escort service.”
Loretta forced a smile. She’d never met the “boss.” He was just a voice on the phone. A voice that had become scarier as time had gone by. “We don’t pretend to be escorts,” she told the brother sweetly.
He laughed. “Well, the stage is set up over there. The music is ready. You come out and… and you give him a lap dance, right?”
“Yeah, right,” Loretta said, suddenly feeling tired. “The best lap dance he’s ever had,” she added softly.
Sure, why not?
If you were going to a job, you might as well do it well.
Rowan stepped into his shower, turning the water on hot. For long minutes he just stood there, letting the water sluice over his head, feeling the steam rise up around him. It felt good to wash away the muck. The feel of the swamp.
The scent of death.
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t shut away the visions that remained. Pieces of bodies. The carnage.
The wrist with the bracelet…
Even with the heat beating down on him, he suddenly felt cold. He remembered exactly where he’d seen the bracelet before…
A scene in the swamps. The swamps where they'd been. The water, the hammock, the birds, the beautiful sunset…
A woman rising from the water, walking. Her naked back visible in the painting, but not her face. A long, beautiful back, long limbs. Arms by her sides
as she casually sauntered out of the water, sensual, compelling, arrogant…
Wearing nothing but her jewelry.
The bracelet he had seen on her wrist.
He reached out, trying to grasp the water spigot and turn off the water. He faltered. Yes, he’d seen the bracelet before.
And dear God, he knew who the woman was…
No. He knew who the woman had been.
“Hey! Wait! You stop, please!”
Sam’s scream faded. She felt like an idiot. She was staring into the face of the reporter who had been hounding Rowan.
“What the hell are you doing, sneaking around my yard?” Sam demanded harshly.
“I was looking for you—”
“Looking for me? You scared me half to death. If you were looking for me, why didn’t you ring the bell?”
“You wouldn’t have let me in.”
Sam was still shaking. She had been so scared—and so stupid, really. “You’re damn right. You’re trespassing, you know. You have no right to be here.”
“I needed to talk to you.”
“Look, if Rowan doesn’t want to be interviewed—”
“I’m trying to help him!”
“That’s between you and Rowan. I—”
“Oh, come on. Everyone knows that you were his mistress— while he was still married. I know you have influence with him—”
“No, I do not have influence with him. Apparently he doesn’t want to talk to you. And I don’t want to talk to you. You need to leave. You have no right sneaking around people’s houses.”
Sam was so unnerved, she didn’t hear Rowan when he first came around the bushes into her yard.
He was furious. Once he had her attention, it was riveted on him. She’d never seen his neck so taut, his features so twisted. “What the hell are you doing here, Beth?” he demanded angrily of the young reporter.
She instantly defended herself. “It’s a free world—”
“And this is private property.”
“This isn’t your property. I was talking to Miss Miller.”
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