Kathy laughed. “You silly man! But that is exactly
why I love you so. Let’s go eat.”
They walked into the kitchen together, and Kathy
turned on the burner to warm up the chicken, while she
placed a small baguette on a cookie sheet and tucked it
into the oven. She poured Tom a glass of wine and got a
new glass for herself, since she had left her other one in
the living room. “So, anything new on the girl?”
Tom took a sip of wine before he answered. “Her
name is Tracey Newman. The medical examiner still
needs to confirm through dental records, but she looks
exactly like a young woman who was reported missing
last week. Aside from a gunshot wound, the body was
intact, so it was easy to recognize. She was originally
from Missouri, and was in Raleigh working as a
physician assistant at Wake Memorial. She was twentythree.” Tom took another sip of wine and looked down.
“In my job, I see death often, but no matter how many
years I have done this, it is still hard to see such a
promising young life being snuffed so senselessly and
so early.”
Kathy touched his hand in a gesture of comfort. “I
know, Tom. Death rarely makes sense, but in cases such
as this it is impossible for a normal mind to wrap itself
around the reasoning behind it. Nothing is more
precious than life, and yet people kill every day over
money, over lovers, over meaningless disputes. I have
thought about this young woman on and off all day; I
have thought of her, and of her family; I have tried to
put myself in her mother’s shoes, and even that was
almost too painful to bear. Has the family been
notified?”
“Yes. This afternoon, and they are not taking it well.
We are flying them in to identify the body. They are
going to be devastated, especially her mother. From
what I’ve heard, she is still deeply in denial. We got the
name of the family dentist in St. Louis, and Tracey’s
stepfather has already requested release of the records to
us. Hopefully, we will have them in the morning.”
Tracey…what a lovely name… Kathy’s mind was
trying to process the information Tom had made
available, and she became quiet for a moment. Then,
before Tom could ask anything, she stood up, went to
fetch two plates from the cupboard, and filled them with
steaming chicken cacciatora. She refilled their glasses
and took the bread out of the oven, then carried
everything to the table. They ate in silence for the most
part, only making small talk about meaningless and
mundane matters that didn’t touch either of them
personally.
After their dinner, they washed dishes together, and
then headed to bed. Kathy brought her novel along, but
she couldn’t concentrate on the words, so she turned off
her reading light and lay still in the darkness of the
room, careful not to wake Tom. Tracey, who did this to
you? I wish you could tell me.
Another sound echoed in the silence of the hallway,
and Kathy jumped. Tom stirred but didn’t wake up, so
Kathy got up and went to check. When she turned on the
light in the hallway, her camera was on the floor again.
How could this be? Her mind raced in a million
directions to seek a logical answer—maybe Tom had
accidentally bumped it when he put down his keys? But
if so, why did it wait so long to fall? She picked it up
carefully and looked at it, wishing in her heart that the
device could talk. She examined the camera again, and
as had happened earlier, nothing seemed to be wrong
with it. She put it down—this time against the wall and
behind her handbag and sunglasses—and walked back
slowly toward the bedroom, still wondering what could
have caused the camera to fall. A sudden flash of light
through the window made her gasp, but no thunder
followed it—heat lightning, probably. She lay in bed
and pulled the covers up to her chin, needing the
comfort of something soft and warm. Tracey didn’t have
anything soft and warm to comfort her before falling
into eternal sleep…
Chapter 4
Rose Howard held her daughter’s hand while her
husband checked their luggage at one of the kiosks in
Lambert International Airport. The airport was still
showing signs of damage from the tornado that had
slammed through the structure just a couple of weeks
before, and even if most of the damage was
concentrated in Concourse C, the whole terminal buzzed
with technicians and other personnel busy getting things
back to normal. After they were checked in, they cleared
security in Concourse A and, as they waited in line,
Rose looked at every face in the crowd, expecting to see
Tracey among the multitude of people rushing to catch
their flights. But there was no Tracey. Rose felt
disappointed, but didn’t dare to voice her feelings to
Mike, who was already worried enough. Mike was
wrong, they were all wrong. Rose couldn’t wait to
confirm that the girl they had found wasn’t her daughter.
Mike had begged her to remain home with Alexis, but
Rose had refused. There was no time for Alexis to go to
Mike’s mother, so they all decided to travel together; if
anything, because they needed to feel the closeness of
family.
“Would you like a cup of coffee, Sweetheart?”
Mike’s voice was full of concern.
“No, thank you. I had a cup before we left home.
Alexis might like some hot chocolate, though.” Rose
loved Mike, but right now she couldn’t stand the way he
was hovering over her, so she was glad when Alexis
nodded her head excitedly at the prospect of hot
chocolate.
The two of them walked away together, and Rose
watched them slowly blend in with the crowd until they
disappeared from sight. She was a bit worried about
Alexis, and felt guilty about her own reaction the day
before. Alexis hadn’t said a word after that, and she
barely picked at her food when she was called down to
dinner. Phantom Lily—as Rose and Mike had come to
call the imaginary friend over the years—was not
mentioned again, but Rose knew Alexis still believed it
was really a girl and that she could talk to it.
The weather today was overcast, and the wind was
blowing fiercely. Rose hoped it would cause no flight
delays. So far, their flight was still on schedule, so she
wedged her soft carry-on bag between her head and the
wall and closed her eyes. She must have dozed off,
because when Mike and Alexis came back from getting
hot chocolate, it was already time to board.
She walked the ramp with resolve, her mind telling
her that this trip would clear up all the mistakes and
Tracey would come home, while her heart whispered an
entirely different truth: When she allowed herself to
&n
bsp; listen to that inner voice she felt queasy.
In spite of the wind, the plane took off smoothly; in
no time at all they were above the Gateway Arch, right
before clouds got in the way, and Rose felt as if she and
her family were floating through a limbo. Musing
briefly about Dante’s description of traveling from hell
to limbo, and then to Paradise, it struck Rose that her
own journey seemed to be moving backwards.
“Mom, how long will it take us to get there?” The
sound of Alexis’s voice was a welcome distraction.
“About an hour and thirty minutes, Sweetie. It’s not
too far.”
Alexis was satisfied with the answer and she settled
into her seat with a magazine.
“What is the name of the detective who’s meeting
us at the airport?” Rose asked Mike who lay against the
seat with his eyes closed.
“Lieutenant Lackey, I think. I have it in my
organizer. I assume they already made hotel reservations
for us,” Mike replied, closing his eyes again. Rose
wondered if his eyes were just tired from watching her
relentlessly. That thought made her smile.
“Strange name, Lackey. I wonder where his family
came from.” Rose interjected.
“Yeah, it sounds Irish, or Scottish maybe.” Mike
smiled at her, obviously relieved by her willingness to
engage in small talk.
They went through the rest of the trip without
talking much, each of them pretending to be busy with
something—crosswords and a kid’s magazine featuring
Justin Bieber—so they wouldn’t need to dwell on what
was waiting for them once they got off the plane in
North Carolina.
#
Tom left for work before Kathy even got out of bed.
When she woke up and went to the kitchen to get coffee,
she saw the note he had left for her on the table. I will
call later and explain, but could you meet me at the
station at ten? She glanced at the digital clock on the
stove and saw that it was only a little after seven. She
had plenty of time to have coffee and to go by the
studio, so she lazily reached out for the coffee pot and
inhaled deeply. The seductive aroma of coffee snaked its
way through her nostrils and reached her brain. The love
affair between Kathy and coffee was one that had begun
when she was only a teenager, and as years passed, the
bond had tightened even more, if that was possible. She
watched as the steaming brown liquid flowed
effortlessly from the pot to the cup, and she silently
thanked the unknown person who initially had the
brilliant idea to roast beans, grind them and turn them
into a beverage. The first sip was always monumental in
her day, and she couldn’t imagine starting her mornings
without it. After two cups and a shower, she tried to call
Tom before she left the house. As always, she got his
answering machine, so she picked up her keys, camera
and mobile phone and headed out the door. She hadn’t
even started the engine when the phone rang.
”Hey Sweetie, good morning.” Even after all the
years together, Tom’s voice had the power to turn an
average day into a good one.
“Good morning to you. I didn’t even hear you leave
this morning.”
“It was super early. I needed to come in for a while,
to make sure everything was in place before Tracey’s
parents get here.”
“What time are they flying in?”
“Just after noon. And this leads me to ask…would
you go with me?”
Kathy was a little surprised by Tom’s request. “To
pick them up, you mean? Why?”
“I have to go meet Doctor Greer as soon as I drop
them off. I wondered if maybe you could hang out with
them for a while and see that they are settled in. Given
that you have a degree in psychology, maybe you can
even suggest ways to cope with what they are going
through. I know you have chosen to pursue a different
career, but these people are probably in great need of a
few good words.”
Kathy was a little taken aback. In all the years they
had been together, Tom had never mentioned her
education as a clinical psychologist, and she wondered
why this case was different. Regardless, she agreed.
“Sure. Do you want me to meet you somewhere? In the
message, you mentioned meeting at the station.”
“Actually, the airport or the hotel would be great.
That way I can go as soon as I introduce them to you.”
“Which hotel is it?”
“The Ramada Inn on Capital. Do you know where it
is?”
“Yes. What time do you want me to meet you?”
“I called the airport, and they confirmed the flight is
going to be on time. It will take us about 30 minutes to
drive back from the airport, so do you want to meet us
around one, at the restaurant adjacent to the hotel?”
“It sounds great. I will see you there.”
“Thank you, Honey. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Kathy clicked the end button on her phone and
placed it on the passenger seat before she looked at her
watch—9:30. There was time to go by her studio and
work on the bridal portraits she had abandoned
yesterday. When she arrived at the studio, she
immediately sat at her desk and started her computer,
working for the next hour and a half with no distraction.
When she was finally happy with the results, she hit
“Save,” and was about to turn off the system when her
eyes rested for a moment on her camera. It was so
strange how the camera had fallen from the table last
night! Not just once, but twice—how could something
like that happen? She decided to upload the photos she
shot around the house to her computer, to make sure the
machine wasn’t damaged. Connecting the camera to the
USB connector, she waited until the images appeared on
the screen. At first glance they appeared fuzzy, so Kathy
swallowed a spontaneous word her mother would not
have been proud of, and clicked on one of the images to
better understand what the problem was. The picture
enlarged to cover most of the screen, and it showed the
table in the hallway, but it appeared to be superimposed
with a filmy, white splash of light. Had the flash gone
off? She hadn’t noticed it when she shot the photo, but
now she couldn’t be sure. She clicked on the other
photos; the same sheer image also showed up in front of
the couch, the sink in the guest bathroom, different areas
of the kitchen, and the staircase. What could it be?
Could it be possible that the flash was activated when
she took all the photos and she didn’t notice? Maybe the
camera was damaged after all.
She sent the images to the laser printer to look at
them more closely. After they were printed, she took
them to her desk and arranged them side by side un
der
the light. Now that she could look at all of them in
sequence, she noticed something very strange: The
foggy image over the items she had photographed was
the same in all the pictures: same size, same shape, same
optical illusion suggesting that what was staring at her
from those photos was a woman screaming to get her
attention. In one of the photos, the woman appeared to
be pointing to a necklace laid on the bathroom counter.
#
Having never met Tracey’s parents, and not
knowing what to expect about their appearance, Tom
had prepared a sign with their name written with a
broad-pointed black marker. When he saw a middleaged man about six feet tall, with sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes look in his direction, he immediately
walked toward him. Detective Wheeler in St. Louis had
indicated Mr. Howard was traveling with his wife Rose
—Tracey Newman’s mother—but he hadn’t mentioned
anything about a child coming along. He looked at Mrs.
Howard, appreciating her quiet, simple beauty. Sporting
mid-length blond hair and an attractive face even
without make-up, Rose Howard was a very attractive
woman and, as he focused on her face, he noticed that
her resemblance to Tracey was breathtaking. The little
girl traveling with them was very small, and Tom
assumed she was only seven or eight years old. She had
long blond hair, neatly combed into a pony tail. Her
large blue eyes appeared sad and her shoulders slouched
as she walked, as if she were carrying too big a burden
for someone so young.
“Mr. Howard? I am Lieutenant Lackey.”
Mike Howard extended his hand and flashed a
warm smile at Tom. Although he didn’t know for sure,
Tom believed Mr. Howard to be a salesman.
“Thank you for meeting us, Lieutenant. This is my
wife, Rose, Tracey’s mother,” he said using his right
hand to introduce the woman standing by his side. “And
this is our daughter, Alexis.”
Tom nodded toward Mrs. Howard. “Ma’am, thank
you for coming.” Then he turned toward Alexis, and
smiled kindly, offering a hand for her to shake. “Hi,
Alexis, it is very nice to meet you.” Alexis smiled back
but didn’t say a word.
They walked through the terminal without speaking
much, moving mechanically through the motions of
retrieving their luggage and using the bathroom before
Killer in Sight (A Tom Lackey Mystery) Page 4