by Regina Fagan
Kinsella was looking carefully at the scarf and didn’t answer her. It was the same as those the women had been strangled with; even the little French designer’s label inside was the same. What could he or should he tell Christine?
He looked up at her. “Christine, I want you to know I take this very seriously. I want to find this guy, and I will. But I’m bothered about something you said earlier. Do you have a gun? Because I don’t want you trying to pull any heroics. I don’t want you trying to go after him or doing something stupid that might land you in jail.”
“A gun? No, I don’t. But I want to buy one. I’m not going to do anything stupid, as you say, but I’m not going to leave myself a sitting duck for him either. He knows too damn much about me, John.”
“Please let me do my job. I want you to call me if you hear from Luther again. In any way.” He handed her a card. “My cell is on there. Call me any time, any hour. And when are you flying again?”
“Sunday evening.”
“Okay. May I take this scarf? And the box and note?”
“Be my guest, I certainly don’t want it. But you didn’t answer my question. Why are you so interested in that? Did your victims have similar scarves? Did he send them silk scarves before he killed them? If so, he must have known them and stalked them.”
“Christine, I can’t go into that, not yet. All I will tell you is that there is a connection, but not quite what you are suggesting. We have no evidence that the women were killed by anyone they already knew.” He wanted to tell her about Alyson Merlott, but felt it would not be wise.
If Luther had been the man Alyson was seeing, and if Luther had indeed killed her all those years ago, it was possible Christine was now the trigger that had set him off again. The killings had started only a short time after the incident on the plane with the spilled coffee, when Christine had first met Luther.
“Christine, it’s getting late, and you’re tired. I’ll get going. Thank you very much for the tea and scones. Tell your friend her preserves are tops. The best I’ve ever eaten.”
“I will. She wins awards at the State Fair each year. I can get some for you if you would like me to.” She looked at him now with concern. “You must be very tired with all this going on. Are you married?”
“No. Not now. I was once. She couldn’t take my lifestyle, and I can’t say I blame her. It’s not easy.”
Christine smiled at him. “I suppose not.” Quickly she jotted a number on a piece of paper. “I forgot to give you my cell number. You should have this.” Then she put her hand to her face to stifle a yawn. Kinsella stood up, still watching her. She seemed so vulnerable now. He wanted desperately to protect her.
He had to restrain himself from putting his arms around her. “Get some sleep, Christine,” he said. “And how is your friend Bill doing?”
“He’s stable. He’ll recover, but he’s still not out of the woods. Did you find out anything else about the attack?”
He shook his head. “No more than you told me. We haven’t found anybody either. But there’s something just not quite right about the gate, as we mentioned, and how the mugger got in, unless he was already on the property, and your guard swears no to that too.”
“And I believe him. He’s good, I can tell you that. There’s not much he’d miss. If anybody was on this property, in the courtyard, hanging around and especially at that hour, he would have known it and done something.”
They were at the door. “Good night. I’ll talk with you tomorrow. Call me if you need me, but just be very careful, all right?”
“I will, I promise. And thank you, John, for coming over here. I’m sorry if I was rather rude at first.”
He smiled at her. “I think I deserved that. But it was Tommy who turned the tide, right?”
He waited to hear the deadbolt lock move into place before heading to the elevator. He was feeling much better now than he had when he’d first arrived here. He had won her over, it seemed. Sort of.
Sutter Court was a well-secured building, which reassured him. It was strange about the mugging, however. There had been no record of any trouble around here before, and there had been no other robberies or attacks anywhere else in the immediate neighborhood last night.
He knew he needed to find Ross-Wilkerson. Perhaps the man was innocent, but there were too many things adding up against him so far, too many coincidences for him to be brushed aside. The scarf especially worried him the most.
Wearily, he made his way home to his empty apartment, thinking about Christine all the way. The evening had turned out better than he’d expected. He was mystified by his feeling for her. She was perfectly lovely, but he’d had more than his share of beautiful women. Why did he feel the way he did about Christine?
She inspired something in him. It was something that went far beyond mere sexual desire. It was something he was quite unfamiliar with lately. He felt renewed somehow, as if she’d woven a spell over him. And he wanted to protect her.
Terribly lonely and depressed, Kinsella arrived at his cold dark apartment, which seemed worse after the warmth and comfort of Christine’s place. How nice it would be to have a woman like that waiting for him each night.
He managed a grim laugh at himself as he wearily removed his clothes and prepared for bed. How in the world had this woman managed to turn his whole world upside down only a few short hours after he’d met her?
CHAPTER FORTY
SATURDAY – OCTOBER 22nd
For the first time in days, Christine woke feeling refreshed and rested. The day had dawned cold and foggy again, with no hint of sun behind the early morning gloom. She was about ready to leave for the hospital when she remembered some bills she had forgotten to mail. But where were they?
She found them in her desk, inside the top drawer. Strange. She never put her outgoing mail inside the desk drawer. She noticed that all of the drawer’s contents seemed out of place today.
She looked in her key box. One set of building and apartment keys was missing, the set she had planned to give Bill. She was sure she had an extra set. Of course she did.
She rummaged through the desk. She found even more items out of place, but no sign of the missing keys. Maybe Ray hadn’t given her those extras? Dear God, what was going on here? Was she losing her mind? There had been far too much stress lately.
No matter now, it was getting late. She wanted to get to the hospital. She had been so tired and upset the past few days, she couldn’t think normally. She would ask Ray later on.
***
She drove slowly from the garage and out into the cold gloomy morning, slowing at the curb to check for traffic, noticing as she did so a man standing across the street looking at the building. When he heard her car coming out, he turned to see who was in it.
He was dressed in old jeans and a dark jacket, and he had a beard. But there was something about him, something that set off an alarm bell in Christine’s mind.
It was Luther; she knew it was. She sat behind the wheel of the car, unable to move or make a sound. Her worst fear had come true. He was here waiting for her.
While she sat helplessly, the man turned and started to walk casually up the hill. Was she wrong? It could have been a stranger. Her nerves were so on edge she was imagining things now, seeing Luther everywhere.
A driver in back of Christine honked his horn impatiently, startling her. Flustered, she accelerated swiftly into the street without looking, narrowly missing an approaching car. More horns honked, and she heard angry voices yelling. She sped up the street and turned right at the first corner, circling Sutter Court and turning back to search for the man in the jeans. He was nowhere in sight.
She continued driving up and down nearby streets looking for him, but with no luck. He had vanished. Had she really seen anyone, or was she starting to lose her mind?
Finally she parked across the street from Sutter Court. Every speck of the positive confidence she’d felt this morning
had left her.
She had to call John Kinsella. She must tell him she had seen Luther, disguised, but still in the city, watching her building. Waiting for a chance to kill me, she thought. But was it really Luther she had seen or was her mind playing tricks on her?
Her body started to quiver. Her legs would never hold her up, should she attempt to step out of the car. Her stomach wretched violently. She put her head down on the steering wheel and gulped down the bitterness rising in her throat.
She had no idea how long she remained there in the car before a neighbor, finding her slumped across the wheel, helped her back to the building and the safety of her apartment.
***
Having made up a story about a fainting spell, Christine thanked her neighbor for her help and refused any further assistance. She needed to call John. She was still shaking as she punched in the numbers, only to find that he wasn’t in. The call went directly to his voicemail. Should she leave a message? She still wasn’t sure it was Luther she had seen, and she didn’t want him to think she was becoming hysterical, or worse, a nuisance.
Not sure what to do, she ended the call and climbed into the window seat to watch the streets below, looking to see if there was any sign of the man in the jeans.
She wondered where John Kinsella was now, or if he had found anything new. She wished the police could search Luther’s home and office, but realized they probably didn’t have enough solid evidence to get permission to do that. In spite of what she’d told Kinsella, did he have probable cause for a search?
When she began to feel stronger she decided she couldn’t stay home any longer. She would be safer at the hospital. She would stay there with Bill today as long as they allowed her to. And she would call John again and let him know where she was and what had happened this morning.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she called for a taxi to take her to the hospital.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Luther arrived at the café across the street from Sutter Court before Christine returned home. There he remained, warm and comfortable, drinking cup after cup of tea while he watched the apartment complex. Finally, he saw Christine step from a taxi in the rapidly thickening fog and glance quickly up and down the street before dashing into the building. On a cold foggy night like this she would probably not be leaving her apartment again.
Luther pulled out the cheap prepaid cell phone he was using today and made two calls, one after the other. When he was finished, he was disturbed and angry again.
He sipped another cup of scalding tea, trying to calm down. It would not be wise to lose control here. The café would be closing in another few minutes. He still had his plans for the rest of the evening, and perhaps the violent anger Christine had just caused him would make it all the easier to carry them out.
***
Christine knew she wouldn’t have been brave enough to come home alone tonight if John hadn’t asked to see her again. The thought of staying alone in the apartment tonight terrified her. At the hospital, she had considered coming back only to get Tommy and take him with her to Bill’s apartment. She could stay there safely as long as she needed to. She might still do that later tonight, but at least she could look forward to being with John for a short time this evening.
She had spoken to him late in the afternoon and told him what she thought she had seen. He told her not to get herself agitated over the man in the jeans; she wasn’t sure after all that it really had been Luther. Trick of the mind, just as she had feared about herself. But then he had asked if he could meet her when she left the hospital, so they made a plan for Christine to call him when she was ready to go home and he would join her there as soon as he was able to.
She didn’t want him to know how desperately frightened she was, or how deeply attracted she was to him. In spite of her fear, she had been elated when he’d asked to see her again, even though she knew his interest was purely professional.
She took a quick shower and changed clothes, toweling as much water from her hair as she could and combing it out. There wouldn’t be time to fix it properly now. As she finished dressing, the kitchen phone rang. She grabbed it up quickly. John was early, and he was probably down at the gate.
“Hi John, that was fast. Are you downstairs?”
There was only the sound of someone breathing deeply on the other end. “John, is that you?” she repeated.
No response. Luther again, no doubt. She slammed down the receiver, but after only seconds it rang again. She picked it up and listened without speaking. Again there was only deep breathing, before the call clicked off and the caller was gone.
She dropped the receiver and pressed her hands into her eyes. She could not continue to allow this man to terrorize her. Never in her life had she let anyone walk over her. But she had never been faced with anything like this, a stalker, a killer who had already taken three lives.
The phone rang a third time. It took every bit of courage she possessed to pick it up, but this time it really was John, and she eagerly buzzed him into the building.
“Are you all right?” he asked her when he reached the apartment. “You sounded frightened again. What happened?”
“Right before you called, I had two other calls in a row. Nobody spoke, all I heard was breathing. I know it was Luther, it had to be. Nobody else I know would do that. And John, I just know that was Luther I saw this morning.”
“Okay, Christine, calm down, please.” He led her to the couch.
She pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “It is simply not in my nature to be a victim, and yet that’s what he has made me. I can’t go on like this.”
“How about a drink? I could use one too. Or better yet, let’s leave here and I can take you someplace where we can both relax a bit and talk about all this business. What do you say to that? Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I guess I am. I don’t know. I haven’t thought much about food all day, but I haven’t eaten in hours.”
Tommy trotted over to Kinsella. He bent down to pet the cat, who rolled from side to side while Kinsella played with him and stroked his fur.
Christine watched him. Somehow just having him here with her made things so much better. “I’ll get my coat, John.” He stood up and looked at her. Maybe she was fanciful as well as hysterical, but what Christine saw in his eyes was far more than just a professional interest in a lonely frightened woman.
***
Luther, still at the café window, saw them leave together a few minutes before the café closed. So this must be John, he thought. The slut had picked up someone else. This would certainly ruin his plan for the evening.
Now he was really furious. She had still another man. He hadn’t expected that. Not at all. The only thing he was happy about was her fear. He knew she had recognized him this morning, clever girl that she was. Everything was set for this day and night had it not been for the sudden appearance of this John.
“Sir?” The waitress’ voice startled him. “Sir, we’re about to close. Can I get you any last thing?”
Luther looked at her, knowing she probably thought, by the look of him, that he was homeless. “No, I wouldn’t dream of troubling you for anything else. I’ve taken up enough of your time. You’ve been very kind.” He took a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and put it on the table, watching the girl’s eyes widen. “All the change is for you.” Looking the way he did now, she had probably been wondering if he’d be able to pay her at all, he thought.
“Gee, thanks. Thanks so much.” She was practically bowing in front of him.
Luther wished the girl a good night. One or two final customers made last minute purchases at the bakery counter. Luther left and walked quickly out into the foggy night.
Walking briskly through the cold, he headed back toward the Tenderloin. He wondered when Christine would return home and if she would be alone. That seemed unlikely, and it wasn’t worth testing. No matter what she did, there was no
safe place for him to hide and watch for her this evening.
There was nothing else for him to do but admit defeat again tonight. John, whoever he was, was responsible for that. First Bill, and now John. Christine would pay dearly for this. Very soon.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Christine only picked at the substantial meal Kinsella had bought for her. Worried that she was under enough stress without adding starvation, he gently encouraged her to eat more until, eventually, she managed to finish almost everything on her plate.
He had been disturbed by how upset she was today, so sure that it had been Ross-Wilkerson she’d seen outside her building. He had no way of knowing whether it had been Luther or not, especially since Christine herself had only met the man once.
She smiled across the table at him, the color attractively returned to her face. “Do you buy such nice dinners for everyone who brings you leads, or am I special?”
He considered his words carefully before answering. “Yes, perhaps you are. Maybe I have a greater interest than usual in protecting you.”
She blushed, making her look even more attractive. “I’m flattered,” she said.
Kinsella kept looking at her. In a little more than twenty-four hours this woman had managed to captivate him totally. He could not get her out of his mind. He felt foolishly giddy and deliriously happy that he had met her. With an effort, he reminded himself that Christine might not share his feelings at all. To her, a lovely and sophisticated woman who spent her time travelling the world, who had been the girlfriend of one of the wealthiest men in San Francisco, he might be nothing more than a cop, just somebody she was relying on for protection against a man she believed to be a killer.