The damned door hadn't been locked. Then again, he saw little worth stealing here. The TV was so old it still had a knob to turn the channels with. No buttons. No remote. Probably had an old-fashioned picture tube shoved into its back. He stiffened as a sound came from behind him.
Slowly he turned and scanned the dim room. He'd only turned on one light, a low-wattage bulb in a big lamp with a yellowed shade. The front door, the one through which he'd entered, was just to his left. But the sound hadn't come from there. It had come from the rear of the house. Maybe from within the house.
He strained his eyes in that direction. A set of steep, narrow stairs ascended into blackness and the second floor. Another black hole led to what must be the kitchen. There would be a back door in there, wouldn't there? And maybe a basement And the front door hadn't been locked, so why the hell would the back door be? Someone could have come in. Hell, someone could have been here waiting.
The Slasher?
Ash swore the skin around his jugular retracted just a little as he moved slowly forward to investigate that sound. He stopped, going rigid for an instant when someone's fist thumped the wooden door behind him. He spun around. The door swung open and Beverly stepped inside. She pulled a restless hand through her David Bowie haircut, then gave it a shake, as if she was worried the night wind had messed it up. There wasn't enough there to mess.
"I'm glad you came."
"This had better be good, Ash. My last experience in this shack was a little too memorable."
He shrugged and crossed the room toward her, the noise from the kitchen momentarily forgotten. "Have a seat?"
She glanced down at the faded brown couch, then shook her head. "No thanks."
Ash wondered if he'd been tactless. "That isn't where they found the guy, is it?"
"Hell, no. You've seen the Slasher's work."
She was right, he realized. There was no blood anywhere. His curiosity peaked. This was the one crime scene he hadn't taken a good look at. He glanced at her, brows raised.
"The kitchen. You been in there yet?"
He shook his head, the sound he'd thought he heard out there leaping to the front of his mind again.
Bev glanced toward the darkened doorway, her face going tight. "Bloodbath."
"Worse than the others?"
Her gaze came back to his, but it was unfocused, as if she were seeing the crime, instead of him. "He struggled."
Ash closed his eyes, trying to block out the image those two words painted in his mind. He was unsuccessful.
"So what did you want to talk to me about?"
He blinked at the way she shifted gears without warning. It took him just a second to catch up. Then he said, "Vegas."
She stared at him. Hard, as if she was trying to read him. "What about Vegas?"
"Come on, Bev. You know what I'm talking about. A string of murders, just like what's happening here. You were a rookie cop with a Vegas beat when they went down."
She averted her eyes, shrugged. "Four murders. I wouldn't call that a string. And they weren't just like these. One of the victims was a woman."
"I see you've been giving this some thought."
Her head came up fast, chin jutting. "Damn straight I have, Coye. Wouldn't you? There are similarities, but just as many differences. I've reached the conclusion that we're dealing with two separate killers."
"You're sure?"
She stabbed holes through him with her eyes. "Positive."
He nodded, robbed his chin. "Because the only other answer is that it's the same lunatic. And if that's the case, we'd have to start wondering about the connection between the Vegas murders and our own. So far you're the only connection I see."
She leaned forward, glaring at him, her eyes narrowing to ice blue slits. "What are you getting at? You saying I have something to do with these killings?"
"Just asking, Bev."
She was on her feet before he finished the sentence. "Damn you to hell, Ashville Coye. You dare even hint at this bull in that rag you call a paper and I'll have you wrapped up in so many lawsuits—"
"Easy, Bev. Come on, you know I wouldn't print anything without facts to back it up. And the Chronicle is no rag. Rad wouldn't let anything libelous slip by him."
"You can take Rad Ketchum and his paper and..." She stopped, midsentence. "Is that what that fiasco was all about? That clod you call a reporter sifting through my ashtray?"
"It's just a precaution. I'm planning to use a DNA print to rule people out."
"Well, why didn't you just ask? We've already run DNA analysis on the butts found at the crime scenes."
He shrugged.
"You thought I'd get access to the results, didn't you? God, you really think I had something to do with this. I can't believe it"
"Look, I'm just trying to cover all the bases."
"You're trying to cover any base that would take attention away from your cute little wife, Coye."
"Joey's not a suspect. She was with me the last time the Slasher tried anything, remember?"
"Doesn't mean she might not know more than she's saying. She was at the crime scenes, don't forget. You ought to be grilling her, not me."
Ash sighed and shook his head.
"Don't think I'm not aware of the way you've been covering for her, Coye. The times you claimed to be with her while murders were committed, and God alone knows what else. If I can prove it, I'll haul you up on charges."
"Knock yourself out, Bev."
She paced away from him, her strides long, forceful. "So do you have anything useful to tell me, or was this whole meeting just supposed to shake me up?"
"I was hoping you'd have something useful to tell me."
"Like what?"
"Like details about those Vegas murders. The things they left out of the official reports. The things that might help me piece this crap together."
She stopped walking, faced him, her expression like chiseled stone. "There is no connection between those deaths and these. None. You're barking up the wrong tree, Coye, and I have better things to do than stand here and listen while you do."
She started for the door. Ash lunged after her, gripping her arm. She stopped, but refused to face him. "There is a connection and you know it. If it isn't you, then I have to find out what it is, or this lunatic will go on killing. Is that what you want?"
Her spine was rigid as she twisted her arm from his grasp. "I thought you knew me better. We dated, for God's sake. We were friends. You know, you're obsessed with this case. You were objective before...before she came into it Now it's like nothing else exists. She's involved up to her neck, Ash, and you're scrambling to get her out. But it's not gonna work."
"She's not involved in anything."
"Tell it to a cop with less instincts, pal. She's hiding something, and I'm going to find out what it is before you manage to pin this whole thing on me just to clear her."
He started to argue, but she whirled on him. "Don't deny you're trying to protect her."
"I wasn't going to." He pushed a hand through his hair. "But you can hardly blame me for wanting to look out for my wife."
"I can if she's guilty."
"I know she had nothing to do with the murders. I know it as sure as I know my own name, Bev. I wouldn't cover for her if I thought—"
"Hell, Coye, you're so head over heels in love with her you don't know what you're doing. But I'll tell you what you're not doing. You're not setting me up to take a fall, just to clear her." She shook her head slowly, turning again toward the door. "Must be nice to have somebody care enough to put their own head on the block for you. Does she know how much risk you're taking for her? Your career could be in the toilet, Ash. Is she aware of that?" She gripped the knob, yanked the door open. "Call me when you get your precious test results back. Then you'll know I'm not moonlighting as a crazed killer and maybe listen to what I have to say."
She stalked out into the night, slamming the door behind her. Ash heard her car start and
move away a second later. He paced, rubbing one palm over his nape in a vain effort to ease the knot of tension coiled there. This was like beating his head against a brick wall, and he was beginning to doubt his head could outlast the bricks. There was a kernel of truth to what Bev had said. If Joey turned out to be guilty and it came out that he'd lied for her, his career would be over. He might even end up serving time.
But it was a moot point since she wasn't guilty and had nothing whatsoever to do with the murders. Nothing.
He stopped pacing, sighed and felt his gaze drawn toward the darkened doorway that must lead to the kitchen. Well, he was here. He might as well get a firsthand look at the crime scene, much as that thought disagreed with his stomach.
He approached the doorway with caution and reached through it to pat the wall in search of a light switch.
#
Joey found Ted alone, watching television. She didn't even bother to knock. As soon as she saw him through the window, she jumped back on her bike and headed for the nearest pay phone. There she called Rad Ketchum. The man had given her his home number when he'd asked her to keep tabs on Ash for him, and she was glad now that he had.
Rad answered in a sleepy voice, but came alert as soon as she explained the situation and asked for Beverly Issacs's home address. Rad recited it, and Joey hung up while he was still barking questions. Bev's house was only five minutes away. She skidded into the driveway in under three and a half.
The lights blazed, but the house was silent. No car sat in the driveway. Joey walked around the small Cape Cod, peering through windows, searching for a sign of Ash or Beverly. Her heart plummeted...and then a tiny red light, flashing insistently, caught her eye. She did a double take. The answering machine. It was worth a shot
She continued around the house until she found an unlatched window, pushed it up and clambered inside. She went directly to the machine and depressed the Playback button....
And heard Bev's recorded message, then Ash's voice, and then Bev picking up the phone and speaking to him. The tape had still been running. It had recorded the entire conversation.
Twenty minutes later, Joey lurked outside the small house in Central Square. She'd shut the bike off and coasted down the last stretch of road, parking it behind a huge oak bathed in shadows. No one would notice it there. She saw Beverly go in and crept closer to listen in on the entire encounter.
Something in the center of her chest throbbed when she heard Ash defend her, heard Beverly say he was too in love to know what he was doing. God, she wished it could be true. She knew too well, though, that it wasn't. Ash might be protecting her, but only because he thought she was his wife, and saw it as his duty. When he learned the truth...
At least she knew he wasn't seriously jeopardizing his career by covering for her. She wasn't guilty, and she'd make damned sure no one else ever learned that he'd lied to protect her.
Beverly exited the front door, and Joey ducked lower in the shrubs, their stiff branches scraping her face, to avoid being seen. She breathed the scent of green leaves and night air as she waited. When Bev's car left, she waited some more, thinking Ash would come out a moment later, worrying anew when he didn't.
She slipped out of the shrub and peered through the window into the living room. Ash wasn't there, but a light glowed from another room. Shadows in there moved. She went around the house slowly, peering through one window after another, her fear for him growing. The dark clawed hand that had a grip on her mind tightened. She felt an instinctive panic boiling up inside her and fought to keep herself rational, calm, ready. But her pulse accelerated and her heart throbbed.
Ash stood in the center of a small kitchen, his face twisted into a grimace. One hand rose to cover his nose and mouth, and he turned slowly, examining the room. Joey moved to the next window to see what he was looking at, then finally to the glass panel in the back door.
She drew a breath that caught in her throat. Dark stains marred the floor. Ugly spatters dotted the walls, taking odd, grotesque shapes, even seeming to move....
Wait, that one stain was moving. No, not a stain, a shadow! An arm lifting, a slender pointed blade clutched in its fist—
She flung the door open, screaming Ash's name. The wooden door hit a large body just before the blade would have sunk into Ash's throat There was a thud as the body hit the floor. Joey hurled herself at Ash, knocking him backward, away from that room of death, right through the doorway into the living room. They both toppled to the floor, Joey landing on top of him. Terrified, she scrambled to her feet spun around and faced the kitchen just as the light flicked off. She saw nothing, only a darker hulk amid the blackness. Joey placed herself squarely between Ash and that darkness.
"The police are on the way, Ash. Are you hurt?"
She heard him get to his feet behind her. She felt his hands on her shoulders, but stiffened her stance, refusing to be moved aside. She shook her head, focusing her concentration on the dark form moving toward them now.
"Come on." Joey spread her arms as if to shield Ash. She was panting, and her heart thudded so hard in her chest that it made her entire body pulse with every beat. "Come on. You want him, you're going to have to go through me. You just better make sure you do a good job, because the minute you touch me, I'll know. I'll know who you are. I almost know now. Touch me and it's gonna be complete. I can feel it. That's why we're so connected, you and I. You're sick and evil, and I'm the one that's going to stop you. I'm the only one who can. So come on, if you think you have time. Come on."
The figure froze in the middle of the dark room. Then a rasping, obviously disguised voice hissed from it. "Another time, bitch. And soon." Then the form moved away, through the back door and into the night.
Ash lunged to go after it, but Joey, gripped his upper arm and held on for all she was worth. Her knees buckled. She shook with reaction, every bit of that unexpected steely strength draining from her in a rush.
Ash gathered her to his chest and held her there. He shook his head slowly. "You're insane, you know that?" He held her away from him, searching her face. "You okay?"
She nodded, then stiffened as something warm and wet touched her palm when she slid her hands around his neck. She felt the blood rush to her feet. Dizziness swamped her, and she drew her hand away, staring first at it, then at the red stain on his throat.
"My God! Ash, you're cut!"
He touched his throat, gave his head a shake. "It's just a nick. You pummeled that weirdo with the door just in time." His eyes darkened, and a frown furrowed his brows. "You could have gotten yourself killed, Joey."
"So could you. Are you nuts, coming here alone in the middle of the night to meet a suspect?"
Headlights bounced through the front windows. Tires skidded, and a second later Radley Ketchum surged through the door. "What the—?" He swore a blue streak when he saw the blood on Ash's neck and hurried forward.
"It's nothing, Rad."
"I saw her, Coye. I actually saw her, running down the street. Big woman. Still had the knife in her hand. I thought you'd be dead by the time I got here."
“I would've been if it hadn't been for Joey." He slipped an arm around her and held her closer. "Which way was our Slasher going?"
"East, but she veered off into a backyard and could've changed direction. I called the cops from the cellular."
Ash frowned down at Joey. "I thought you'd already done that."
"I only said that to scare the Slasher away."
Ash nodded, watching Rad rush into the kitchen, flick on the light and run cold water over a clean white hanky he took from his pocket. He returned, and Ash flinched when Rad pressed the cloth to his throat. He yanked it out of the editor's hand and held it to the wound himself. "So what are you doing here, Rad? How'd you know—?"
"I called him." Joey seemed to think it was her turn with the wet cloth. She shoved Ash's hand aside and held the hanky in her own. "I knew you'd gone to meet someone you suspected. I checked Ted's and found
him home, so I called Radley to get Beverly Issacs's address."
Ash looked down at her. She kept her gaze on his neck. "And?"
She scrunched her eyebrows together, chewed her lip. "You're not going to like it, but then I didn't much like you slipping out and leaving my father to watch me." She drew a deep breath. "I sort of broke into Beverly's—"
"Sort of broke in?"
"Well, the window was unlocked. I listened to the messages on the machine and heard your conversation. That's how I knew to find you here."
Ash shook his head, visibly upset. "And how did you know, Rad?"
"She sounded so upset on the phone, I decided to meet her at Bev's place and see if I could help. But by the time I got there, she was shooting off like a rocket on that Harley of hers."
"If you followed her, then what took you so long to get here?"
Joey started at the sound of suspicion in Ash's voice. She glanced up at him, worried that he was beginning to mistrust everyone he knew.
"Ease up, Ash. Your lady love here is hell on wheels. She lost me two miles back. I drove around for a while trying to catch sight of her, and then it hit me that I was near this house, so I figured I'd check it out."
Joey lifted the cloth from Ash's neck and shivered. The nick was small, not deep. But right above the jugular. If that blade had cut just a bit deeper...
"Can we just go home? I hate the idea of Caro and the girls there with no one but my father watching over them."
Sirens sounded and grew louder as she finished the sentence. "You can go ahead if you want, Joey." Ash stroked her hair. "I'll stick around and fend off the police and their questions."
She gripped the hand that stroked her hair and held it still. "Dammit, Ash, don't you get it? This bastard is after you. I don't want you out of my sight again, not even for a second."
She bristled when he smiled. "Yeah. My bodyguard, right?"
"This is no laughing matter."
"Who's laughing? You just saved my skin." His smile faded, and his eyes took on a serious gleam. "You did, you know. But if you'd been hurt doing it, I'd never have forgiven you." He pulled her close, surrounding her with his arms. "Dammit, Joey, don't risk so much for me. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."
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