When the cat reached the top, he sat and waited for her, his tail flicking and his green eyes watchful. He followed her into the bathroom. After closing the door, she stripped off the jeans and the shirt and kicked them in a pile beneath the pedestal sink before turning on the faucet. When she turned around, the cat was still watching her.
“Okay, Houdini. I can handle the bathing thing without your assistance this time.”
She picked him up and dumped him back into the hallway. Immediately, a paw shot from beneath the door. She watched for several seconds as the cat used first the right paw and then the left, all the while crying. It was almost like having a toddler tugging on a locked door while you tried to steal two minutes to yourself.
“Go find a mouse or whatever it is you do around here to earn your keep.”
Suddenly, as if he’d understood his orders, the antics stopped. Katie grabbed a towel from the pine armoire and placed it within easy reach of the tub, then stripped off her panties and tossed them with her other clothes.
She waited until the water was the right temperature before pulling the curtain surround from both sides, and flicking the diverter up. Water poured out of the large showerhead almost like a summer downpour.
She stepped in over the high side, not an easy task with the way her muscles ached. As the warm water poured over her, heat seeped in by slow degrees. After adjusting the shower head to a massage setting, she dropped her head forward to luxuriate in the way the pounding water loosened the tense muscles of her upper back. The curtain billowed and shifted in the warm air generated by the water like a half-inflated hot-air balloon eager to float away.
For the longest time, she just stood beneath the water, then, when she could feel it starting to cool down, she reached for the soap and the washcloth.
As she ran it across her abdomen, the curtain suddenly plastered itself to her right hip and buttock. Katie pushed out on the material, and as she did so, a strong current of cold air leaked through where the curtains met. She turned and adjusted them to be sure water wouldn’t escape.
The bathroom door creaked softly.
Her eyes narrowed. Had she failed to shut it? No. She distinctly recalled making certain the latch caught so that Houdini wouldn’t be able to push it open. It was an old house, though, and after only a few days, she didn’t know all of its quirks.
“Is that you, Houdini?”
She was already reaching for the faucet when the light from the room’s one window suddenly dimmed, someone much larger than a cat having just walked in front of it.
Chapter Fifteen
Having already reclaimed his carry-on, Alec maneuvered past those who were still grabbing their belongings from the plane’s overhead luggage compartments.
When he’d phoned this morning, he’d managed to secure the last seat on this flight, but that had meant the past few hours in an aisle seat next to the restroom, and with other passengers standing over him as they waited their turn.
The pilot had attempted to go around the rough weather, but the flight had still been a rough one. More than once, he’d nearly ended up with a fellow passenger in his lap when they lost their balance while standing in line.
As he walked up the aisle, Alec glanced down at the coffee stain that covered his shirt. He’d have to stop somewhere on his way out of the airport and change it.
Throughout the morning, his mind, which should have been on the coming interview with David Adams, had been on Katie. He dragged in a deep breath. Usually, he had no problem compartmentalizing, keeping his thoughts and energies firmly focused on whatever task lay ahead. He’d been known to filter out almost anything and anyone. But not Katie. He tried to tell himself that it was because they’d been with each other 24/7, but the truth was, even before two weeks ago, even before they’d spent any real time together, when the only relationship between them had been that of waitress and customer, she had lingered at the back of his mind.
A heavy, staying hand dropped on his shoulder from behind and Alec swung around abruptly, coming face-to-face with Seth Killian. Several inches shorter than Alec, Seth had nearly black hair that he kept trimmed to the Bureau’s specifications. Like Alec, Seth was a runner. Mainly because the only pieces of required equipment were a pair of running shoes and a road or trail, which made it easy to stick to a regimen when out in the field.
They’d been hired and gone through training at the same time. Unlike Alec, who had been recruited while still at the Citadel, Seth had done a stint in the marines before applying to the Bureau. After training, they’d received different assignments, Alec drawing Philadelphia and Seth Minneapolis. It hadn’t been until three years ago that they’d both ended up in the same field office.
Usually Seth wore an easy grin, but not now. If anything, Seth looked worried.
They’d arranged to meet outside the hospital, so Alec’s gut instantly tightened. Had something gone wrong? Seth had assured him that David Adams’s condition had improved enough that the doctor was willing to let them question him.
Alec shifted the bag to his left hand. “Let me guess. The lawyer has pressured the attending physician to keep us out?”
“No. In fact, Detective Evans is in questioning David Adams now.”
Alec’s fingers tightened on the bag’s handle. He cursed aloud and succinctly, something he rarely did. “He knew I wanted to go over strategy before anyone talked to—”
Seth grabbed Alec by the upper arm and turned him back toward the gate area. “David Adams is the least of our problems right now.”
“What are you talking about?”
Seth ignored the question. “I have us booked on a flight out of here in six minutes. If we make a run for it, we might just make it.”
“A flight where?”
“Daytona,” Seth said, his face was tight with concern. “What’s that? About an hour from Deep Water?”
“Less than that.” Alec barely missed running over a little girl as he tried to keep up with Seth. “But what in the hell is going on? Why am I getting back on a plane?”
Several planes must have unloaded at nearly the same time, because the walkway became even more congested.
Seth dodged a woman who had stopped to reposition her baggage. “I just got off the phone with David Adams’s boss. David Adams was attending a conference in Oregon when the Deep Water assault took place.”
“What?” Dread pooled in Alec’s gut. “Any chance he checked in and then skipped? Those things are pretty unstructured. People coming and going all the time, no one keeping track.”
“His boss says no. He made the trip with Adams and claims he sat beside him from eight to five all three days and had dinner with him each night.”
“And two nights ago?” Alec asked, but he already knew what Seth was going to tell him.
“On a plane back from Las Vegas. I checked with the airlines. He was in seat 26A. The plane landed in Philly just after ten that night.”
So David Adams hadn’t assaulted Katie or murdered Jolie Kennedy. But he had been wearing Jill’s necklace, was carrying a photo of her taken the night of her death and had visited the grave site.
He nearly slammed into a man who stopped suddenly in front of him and earned a sour look that he chose to ignore. “Then it’s a damn copycat,” Alec said between clenched teeth. He scanned the concourse ahead. He’d managed to leave his cell phone behind at the house this morning. “I need a phone.”
“If you’re worried about the girl, I called your brother on my way over. He’s sending someone named Martinez out to your place until we can get there.”
Alec felt the adrenaline kicking in as he thought about the timing, about the fact that he’d left Katie unprotected. Exposed. And about their last conversation. Why couldn’t he ever seem to get it right?
He’d been scared several times during his career, but never more so than he was at that moment. He tried telling himself that as long as she stayed in the house and kept the alarm system on she wo
uld be relatively safe. But he didn’t believe it.
Alec glanced at his watch. She’d been alone for more than five hours now. She’d talked about making some plans. Had any of them taken her away from the house? What if she wasn’t there when Martinez arrived? What if she’d gone shopping? She didn’t have a cell phone. Was there any possibility that she’d taken his, though?
Alec held out his hand. “Give me your cell phone.”
Seth passed it to him. Alec dialed his cell number, reached voice mail. Then he tried his brother’s cell number. When it went to voice mail, too, he disconnected and tried the Deep Water police station. He was put on hold before he could say half a syllable.
Seth grabbed him by the arm and dragged him through the crowd toward gate ninety-two—the gate Alec had just left. “This is us.”
The door to the gateway was swinging closed as Seth placed the tickets on the counter. “You need to hold that door,” he ordered the young male airline employee at the counter.
“The flight’s full, sir.”
“Then you’ll have to ask two people to give up their seats, because we have to be on that plane.” He flashed his badge.
Alec saw the hesitation in the man’s eyes, and then the sudden realization that he was going to have to hold the flight until two of the passengers who were already aboard agreed to disembark. Turning, the young man picked up the phone and made the call.
Alec managed to get through to Deep Water Police as two passengers, an older couple, emerged from the gateway. He nodded as they passed, and Seth stopped to tell them just how much he appreciated their willingness to cooperate.
A woman’s voice brought his attention back to the phone he held. “Deep Water Police.”
“This is Alec Blade. I need to talk to my brother.”
“Let me see if I can locate him.” He was put on hold again.
Looking up, he saw Seth motioning him. Realizing that he couldn’t wait any longer, he disconnected and jogged after Seth. He’d have to use an air phone.
The curious stares of other passengers followed them both as they took their seats in first class. Within seconds, the 757 was backing away from the gate. Alec closed his eyes as the plane taxied out for takeoff. In his head, he kept seeing Katie standing framed in his bedroom door. At the time, he’d wondered if it was the last time he would see her.
Now he wondered if it would be the last time he would see her alive.
BOTH MEN WAITED until they were in the air before resuming their conversation.
Alec grimaced. “Early on, I looked at the possibility of a copycat crime, but ruled it out. What in the hell didn’t I see that I should have?” He had considered the possibility of a copycat—though perhaps not for very long. The crime scene and the evidence had pointed so convincingly to the same man who had killed Jill.
“Nothing,” Seth said. “I examined the same photos, the same evidence as you did, and came to the same conclusion. That both had been done by the same man.”
But how was that possible? What was he still not seeing?
“To duplicate the scene in Deep Water would take firsthand knowledge of the Philadelphia scene. Any possibility that David Adams picked up a partner?”
“That’s one of the questions Detective Evans is undoubtedly asking Adams right about now. But unfortunately, that’s not the only possibility.” Seth’s expression turned more grim. “Evans called just after I talked to Jack. Part of Jill’s file—some photos and a copy of the crime scene technician’s notes—is missing.”
Alec rubbed his eyes. A copy of notes made by the CST was missing? What next?
“So if Adams isn’t working with an partner, whoever our UNSUB is, he knows his way around not only a crime scene, but a police department. Well enough to walk in and help himself to part of a file without anyone noticing.”
“It would explain your crime scene.” Seth looked up and nodded at the hostess as she wheeled the beverage cart to the front of the plane.
Seth was right. It would explain it, but getting in and out of a police station wasn’t easy. And that was if you knew where and what to look for. But the missing notes and photos couldn’t be just a coincidence. The details of the two scenes had been too accurate to have been guessed at.
“You said it was the CST’s original field notes that were missing and not the report?”
“Just the notes,” Seth said. “The report was still there.”
Alec grabbed his case from the overhead compartment. From the outside pocket, he collected the thick file. It had grown steadily over the past eleven months and contained everything pertinent to the investigation. In hopes of an early resolution to the murder investigation—his plate full with a dozen more open cases—Evans had been more than willing to share. At least he had been once he’d ruled out Alec as a possible suspect.
Alec found it ironic that his alibi eleven months ago and David Adams’s alibi six days ago had been the same—that there had been thousands of feet of air beneath them when the crimes had occurred.
He dropped back into the seat, flipped the tray-table down. He sorted through paperwork for several seconds before finding a copy of the CST’s field notes.
Cursing beneath his breath, he placed the folder next to him. “That’s what I was seeing, but couldn’t put my finger on. In the initial notes, the tech lists the brand of box cutter, the size and number of candles and the fact that they were cheap ones carried by most discount stores. All those things match perfectly with what was used at Katie’s.”
“What about the surgical tubing?”
Alec looked at Seth. “Just the diameter is given. The manufacturer was in only the final report.”
Seth’s mouth flattened. “And that’s the reason the tubing didn’t match. It wasn’t because his source changed suppliers. It was because he didn’t know what tubing had been used, so he went with the most common brand.”
“And guessed wrong.” Alec looked toward the front of the plane. “It would take someone who works in law enforcement, or at least someone with a police background, to have so precisely pulled off that crime scene. Everything was just too well done to be someone off the street.”
Alec glanced down at the report, then at the photo of Katie’s bedroom. He was still missing something here. Some vital connection that he still wasn’t making. Why would a cop come after him? True, he had pissed off his fair share of them over the years, but to use a young woman to exact revenge on a fellow law officer…that was really pushing the limits of believability.
But what…Alec lowered the photo, his gut already twisting as he looked over at Seth. “I’ve been basing everything on the belief that I am the target, but what if I’m not? What if Katie is the target?”
“Considering the crime scene, isn’t that a stretch?”
“Either a stretch or genius.” Alec seemed to study the photo, but in his mind, he went back to that night. Katie had said her attacker had called her Katydid—a name her sister had given her—and that no one but the ex-boyfriend had known it. Even though they’d never been able to pinpoint how her attacker had come up with the nickname, Alec had assumed it had been on the back of a photo. But what if that wasn’t the case?
Alec frowned. “For argument sake, let’s say it is Katie. Someone shows up here with the intention of harming her, but doesn’t want to be implicated. He somehow recognizes me, or perhaps the local rumor mill gives him enough to get him thinking.” Alec glanced at the photo again. “He does his homework, and then does even more of it when he walks into a police department and strolls out with what he thinks is a blueprint. Which leaves only the implementation.”
“So who would want the girl dead?” Seth asked. “What cop—”
Alec reached for the air phone, then, holding it to his ear, tugged a credit card out of his billfold. It took several minutes for the call to go through and for Alec to get patched in to Jack.
“Jack—”
Jack cut him off. “Katie’s missing. I
’m at your place now and it looks as if there’s been a struggle in the upstairs bath.”
Alec closed his eyes against the sharp pain that cleaved his chest wide open. It was his fault. He’d allowed himself to get tunnel vision. And because he had, Katie was in danger.
“Any blood?”
“No. At least no obvious—” Jack suddenly broke off. “Damn it, Martinez, catch that cat. What in the…what is wrong with him?”
Demon cat let out a long, lethal-sounding growl.
“Forget the damn cat. Any idea how long he’s had her?”
“A couple of hours maybe. Maybe less, but there’s no way to pinpoint it right now.”
Alec took a deep breath. He needed to stay focused. Now more than ever. “I need you to pull a record on an inmate at the South Florida Correctional Facility. On a Rick Sekorra.” Alec spelled the name.
“What am I looking for?”
“He went in for vehicular homicide. I need to know if he’s still there, and if not, a current address for him.”
“What’s the connection to you?”
“None. The connection is to Katie. He’s responsible for the death of her twin sister. And he was a cop.”
Chapter Sixteen
Katie fought the heavy nausea climbing her throat and the pounding pain in her head. Intense sunshine heated her face. Where was she? At the beach? If she was at the beach, why couldn’t she hear waves? Or the familiar sounds of seagulls and blaring music? And what of the clean scent of sand and salt water?
Even as she tried to open her eyes, a heavy drowsiness sucked her back down into a warm, black hole. She was tempted to let it, but knew she shouldn’t.
But why shouldn’t she give in? Let her body and mind backslide into the waiting abyss? Into the waiting tranquility?
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