If Looks Could Kill

by Heather Graham

  “Well, you know, he was my stepbrother,” Madison murmured.

  Carrie Anne shrugged. “I think Daddy meant you were always in love with Kyle,” she said, sounding incredibly mature for her age. “But he’s okay with it,” she assured her. “He’s dating Lindy. She was real nice. It’s funny. She kind of looks like you, Mommy. She’s not as pretty, but she has green eyes—and real pretty dark red hair. Just like yours and Aunt Kaila’s. He talked a whole lot to Lindy.”

  “Carrie Anne, you shouldn’t have been listening, and I don’t want to hear everything your daddy said to Lindy, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Madison shivered. Oh, God, she wasn’t going to start suspecting Darryl of evil doings! she told herself. Damn Kyle! She couldn’t run around being afraid of her own family and friends. There had to be somebody left to trust!

  “Let’s go see this movie. And it doesn’t matter what Lindy looks like, as long as she’s good to you and Daddy,” Madison told Kaila.

  Because it didn’t matter what the woman looked like.

  Did it?

  While Kyle was at the morgue, drinking stale coffee in the lounge and awaiting a full report on Tammy, Jassy came to see him.

  “Hey, big brother.”

  “Hey, sis.”

  “Lobster bisque, shrimp étouffée, fried potatoes, green salad with a vinaigrette dressing.”

  He arched a brow. “Jassy, I’m not hungry.”

  “Holly Tyler’s last meal. Here’s a copy of the lab report. We’ve already got guys from Dade and Monroe checking out restaurants from Miami to Key West.”

  “Tell Jimmy to get them to concentrate south of Florida City. We already know what time Holly got her tattoo. Dinner probably followed, and it looks like they were heading south.”

  “You sure?”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “Your sister ‘saw’ them driving south, past Lake Surprise. Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll tell Jimmy.”

  There wasn’t much else the coroner could tell them about Tammy’s death that they didn’t already know. She’d trusted her killer until she swallowed her own blood. She hadn’t fought, hadn’t protested, she had just died. There wasn’t a smidgen of anything but ink beneath her fingernails. A number of the fingerprints they had been able to lift from her desk, the doorway and a few other places matched up to some guys with lengthy criminal records, and Kyle knew they would have to check them all out. He was certain, though, that the ex-cons had come for tattoos. The killer’s fingerprints wouldn’t be on record anywhere.

  He spent part of the late afternoon and early evening interviewing Tammy’s employees and friends and two ex-lovers. They all seemed to check out.

  At six he called his office in Virginia, hoping that Ricky Haines would have something to tell him, either on Harry Nore’s whereabouts, or on any similar crimes elsewhere across the country. Ricky sounded tired and defeated. “The only thing I found that might have some relation is a case that occurred in West Palm Beach about two years back.”

  “Tell me.”

  “There’s not much there, because no one ever prosecuted. A young female cop tried to get some of the women involved to do something, but you know how rape cases go. It’s hard to get the victims to testify against their attackers, because no matter how we try to bring things into the twentieth century, it’s almost impossible to keep the victims from being victimized all over again.”

  “I know. Tell me about this case. Maybe I can go see this policewoman.”

  “Well, it’s a tough one. The policewoman is a lady named Marge Krell. A friend of hers dragged her out to see another friend who had been roughed up. She’d been charmed into going out with a guy, then decided that it was going faster than she wanted. They wound up at a hotel, and she said no, and the next thing, he’s wielding a knife at her. He doesn’t cut her, but he threatens her, ties her up, and rapes her. The girl doesn’t do anything, because she did go to the hotel with him. Plus she’s married. She’s been separated, but now she’s got a chance to get back together with her husband, and she doesn’t want the husband to know what happened. The guy supposedly works as a tennis pro at a Palm Beach club, but when the woman calls the club, he doesn’t exist. Off the record, the policewoman finds out about a few other women he charmed and then raped, but the ladies were all afraid to testify, since they had gone with him.”

  “No one was killed?”

  “Not that we know about. Although, since then, two badly decomposed bodies of young women who had disappeared were found in some swampland in the general area. They were pretty much down to bone, though, and the coroner’s office couldn’t give an exact cause of death in either case.”

  “There could be a relation here,” Kyle commented.

  “I’m sure of it, Kyle.”

  “Why?”

  “Get this—the women involved were all redheads.”

  When Kyle hung up, he put a call through to Marge Krell. She wasn’t sure what kind of help she could give him, but she was more than willing to try. “Only two women ever talked to me. Claire Engle—and she’s since gone back to her husband, had a child and moved to Iowa. She’s denying what happened. You could subpoena her straight into a courtroom before God Almighty, and she wouldn’t breathe a word. Then there’s Josie Morgan. She’ll talk with you, I’m certain. We’ve kept up with each other, become friends, so I happen to know she’s out on a cruise ship, due back Wednesday morning. She’s a good kid. I’m sure I can set up a meeting for Wednesday afternoon. I’ll meet her ship when it comes in, and we’ll come see you together. I’ll have to ask my captain, of course—”

  “The FBI can arrange the day for you,” Kyle assured her. “How about lunch?”

  “Great. Where are you taking us?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  Marge opted for an Italian restaurant in Coconut Grove. He hung up, hoping he might have found his break at last.

  Violence usually escalated. Their killer might very well have started off as a rapist.

  Or…

  What if their killer was the same man who had stabbed Lainie Adair? Had his hatred lain dormant all these years? Had the one killing sufficed for a very long time, until he had felt the need to take a woman and hurt her…

  For not giving him something he wanted? Something he needed?

  Thinking about Lainie, he read and reread the psychological reports on Harry Nore. Doing so, he became more and more certain that Harry Nore hadn’t killed Lainie Adair. Yes, Nore had killed his wife with a butcher knife. But he’d been using the knife at the time, to cut meat in his kitchen.

  His wife had pulled the plug on his radio in the middle of the NBA finals. A little drastic, but a man with severe psychological disorders might overreact. Domestic violence was often triggered by some small incident.

  All right, so Harry had been found with the knife that killed Lainie. He was living like a bum on the street corners of Coconut Grove at the time. He could have found the knife.

  Sitting at Jimmy’s desk and going over and over the reports, Kyle rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Hey.”

  He looked up. It was Jimmy.

  “Are you going to get out of here? It’s ten o’clock.”

  Kyle started, glancing at his watch. He packed up his papers. Ten o’clock.

  Damn it. Why did he suddenly feel so panicked about Madison?

  This dream was different.

  She was in a car. It was her in the car, but it wasn’t her, either. She was driving.

  He was at her side. He was telling her where to go, but she already knew. She’d been there before. A long time ago, as a little girl.

  They were headed for a place out in the swamps. Once, before the city got so big, before the environmentalists realized that the unique ecosystem of the Florida Everglades was being destroyed, guys had kept hunting shacks out in the swamps. They would go out there to hunt alligators, but mostly, they would shoot up beer cans. Both Jordan A
dair and Roger Montgomery had kept shacks out in the Everglades.

  “I love you, and you love me, and tonight you’re going to show me that you love me.”

  He was sitting next to her, in the passenger seat. She couldn’t see him, but she was terrified. She was so frightened that she would have just stopped the car and run into the swamp and hoped to outrun him, except…

  Someone was in the back seat. Whispering, “Mommy?”

  Over and over again. In a frightened voice.

  “You’re going to love me…bitch. You’re not going to hurt me, you’re not going to cut my heart out, you’re going to give it all back.”

  “Mommy?”

  She opened her mouth, then gasped, feeling the point of something against her side. She looked down.

  A knife.

  Huge, with a six-inch blade. It was silver, glittering in the sunlight. The light reflected off it, blinding her when she tried to look up, into his face. The knife was touching her. Just touching her. Not cutting into her. Not yet. But as she stared at it…

  Blood seemed to seep from it, and she knew it was the blood of those who had come before her….

  She woke up soaked in a cold sweat.

  And realized that someone was in her room. Someone watching her. Waiting…

  She started to scream.

  Kaila ran out to the store late.

  She didn’t usually go grocery shopping at ten at night, but she hadn’t realized that she was out of milk. Dan had run late, they’d just had dinner, and he would have gone to the store for her, she knew, but he looked really worn-out, and she needed to get out of the house for a few minutes, anyway.

  She spent more time than she had intended, enjoying the solitude, though she didn’t really buy much of anything. With her one brown bag, she walked out of the store at ten-thirty.

  She was headed for her beige Lexus when, suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around in surprise, then saw him.

  And she shivered, dismayed, angry, oddly frightened.

  “Kaila, let me help you.”

  “No…no, it’s just one little bag.”

  “What are you doing out so late?”

  “Just buying milk.”

  “Dan should have come out. The night is dangerous.”

  “No, lots of people shop on Friday night. The store stays open until eleven.”

  “It’s still dangerous.” He hesitated. “He doesn’t love you enough. Like I do. When are you going to realize that? When are you going to come with me?” He leaned close to her, his voice husky. “Let me lick you all over. Let me eat those panties off you!”

  She inhaled sharply. “How could you have done such a thing to me!” she demanded angrily.

  “What? I sent you a present for us to share.”

  She shook her head. “I thought it came from Dan.”

  His face hardened. “Why would it have come from Dan? You told me he was an ass who couldn’t even come home on time.”

  “I—I was wrong. Look, I know that I’ve kind of led you on, but…Dan is the father of my children. We’re married, we’ve had problems, but we’ll work them out. You’ve always made me feel good when I’ve been down, and I appreciate that, but…”

  “But what, Kaila?”

  “Please, no more presents. There can’t be anything between us. Except the closeness we’ve always had.”

  He shook his head. “You’re wrong,” he said very softly, tenderly. “You love me. Eventually you’ll realize it. So screw Dan.”

  “You don’t understand,” Kaila tried to explain.

  “Yeah, I do. You’re being a cunt, like most women. Like your mother.”

  “My God, how could you—How dare you—”

  “Sorry,” he said briefly. “All right, you’re in love with your husband again. I’ll put your bag in your car for you.” He took the bag from her and walked to the car with it. She was suddenly afraid that he was going to force his way in with her.

  He didn’t. He put the bag on the back seat and closed the door. “Look, Kaila, I’m sorry. What I said was awful. You have been leading me on, though. And you are going to have trouble with Dan again. You’ll be looking for what I can give you again.”

  “No…Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just going through a bad time. And Dan is furious. I lied like crazy, but he’s determined to find out where those panties came from. Please, you’ve got to be careful. We’ve got to stop talking, and—”

  “Kissing?”

  “Right. We have to stop kissing. Please, don’t be angry with me. I care about you. Please, don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad.” He smiled at her. “Because you’ll be back.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.”

  “Kiss goodbye?” he inquired.

  “Sure.”

  It wasn’t a chaste kiss. He wanted more, and because she was unnerved at first, she didn’t fight him. Then she found the strength to pull away.

  He drew away from her. “I still love you.”

  “The best of friends,” she murmured.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. Not at all.”

  He turned and walked away. She shivered fiercely. She wondered if she should come clean. Tell Dan what she’d almost done.

  Oh, God, no, she couldn’t. Too many other people were involved; she could ruin everything.

  Kaila drove home quickly, called out to Dan that she was back and put her few groceries away. Dan was already in bed, watching television, when she went into their room. He patted her side of the bed, smiling hopefully.

  “Just a sec—I’m going to shower.”

  She showered, then brushed her teeth and rinsed with mouthwash, assuring herself that the taste of another man’s lips couldn’t possibly remain on her own.

  14

  “Oh, right! Let’s bring Madison along. Let’s make her look at another damn murder victim!” Kyle swore.

  The light was on, and he was pacing back and forth in front of her bed. He was wearing black-cotton boxers, looking as hard and sleek as a panther, and just as edgy and dangerous as any caged cat. She remained in bed—relieved, oh, God, yes, relieved!—sitting up against the headboard, feeling the beginning of a pounding headache. Kyle was in a dark, angry mood.

  Not that he hadn’t been reassuring at first, encircling her with his arms, holding her tighter and tighter until she knew it was him and her trembling stopped.

  “You—you were in my room,” she reminded him. “You scared me.”

  “You knew I was coming back. And you were shouting and crying out in your sleep. I figured you were dreaming again, but if you were, I had to wake you up. And if you weren’t…well, hell, hopefully I was going to save your life.”

  “Then I’m sorry, but honestly, you scared me—”

  “What was the dream?”

  “I…don’t remember.”

  “Bull. You remember all kinds of stuff you don’t tell me. You had a vision off your father’s boat that day, and you didn’t say a word to me. You waited until we were with Jimmy, the next day.”

  “Well, Jimmy doesn’t think I intrude on his life.”

  He paused, taking a deep breath, shaking his head. “Damn it, Madison, this isn’t the time to make me pay for any of the stupid things I might have said to you when I was upset.”

  A violent shiver suddenly seized hold of her.

  He stopped pacing, staring at her, coming back to her side. He sat on the bed beside her and drew her against him, and she felt the pounding of his heart, felt the different rhythm of her own.

  “What is it?” he asked huskily.

  “I’m all right. Just an aftershiver.”

  “What was the dream? Was it about Tammy?”

  She pulled away from him, looking at him, and shook her head. “No, it was strange, I can’t quite seem to remember exactly…It had the past mixed up with the present. I was driving west along the Tamiami
Trail to the hunting shacks. It was me, but it wasn’t me…. It was like when we were kids, except that I was grown up, and the killer was trying to take me away somewhere, but I couldn’t run, because…”

  “Because?”

  “There was a child in the car.”

  “Carrie Anne?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. It was very, very strange. It was me, but it was someone else—”

  “You always see through the victim’s eyes.”

  “Yes, but, this was different from the dreams I’ve had before.” She exhaled a long breath. “Some people have the gift of prophecy, but I never have. I’ve only seen what’s already happened. This dream was different. It wasn’t anything that’s happened, and it was and wasn’t me, in a different way. And the child…he kept saying, ‘Mommy.’ Weird, huh?”

  “So you don’t think that any of it actually happened?”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean…Please, tell me there haven’t been any children involved in any of these murders, right?”

  He shook his head. “No. No kids.”

  “Then maybe…I don’t know, maybe I have seen one corpse too many.” She hesitated. “How come Jassy never has nightmares?”

  “She has a scientific mind.”

  “I wish I did.” She hesitated. “Kyle, I still feel I can help on this. I feel it more and more.”

  “And more and more, I get the feeling that you’re in danger. Besides that, you’re suffering. You’re suffering for every poor woman killed, and it’s bound to take a toll on you.”

  “I’m okay. Cops and doctors learn to live with pain and death. I can do the same. I have done the same. I have to stay on this case. I have to!”

  “Damn it, Madison, only if you promise to listen to me.”

  “Oh, really? Who made you the boss?”

  “The FBI.”

  “Well, they didn’t make you the boss of my life.”

  “If you want in on this one, I am.”

  “Mommy?”

  They both turned. Carrie Anne, her thumb in her mouth, was standing in the doorway to Madison’s room.

  Guilt swamped Madison. She wasn’t even doing anything, but she couldn’t help feeling guilty. She’d had the best possible divorce, but she still felt bad for Carrie Anne. Carrie Anne adored her father, and this just felt…uncomfortable.