by Adrianne Lee
But Beth was already halfway there. And when they told her the news, Beth was more concerned about what Kollecki wanted with Eden and David than about staying alone. David told her he was certain it had to do with the tape he’d taken to Kollecki, yesterday. That seemed to satisfy her.
“You’d better get going, then. And don’t frown, Eden. I’ll be fine,” Beth assured her. “I have my beeper, and I don’t plan to do anything more strenuous than feeding the ducks and reading my book and resting. Pretty harmless pastimes.”
IF ONLY KOLLECKI WERE harmless, Eden thought as he met them in the waiting area. His red hair hadn’t its usual sheen, and his dark eyes seemed lost in the crevices of skin at their edges, as if he’d been up for hours or hadn’t slept at all the night before. She hoped his conscience over what he’d done to her was directly responsible for any loss of sleep the man had suffered.
He ushered them through the locked doors that led to the jail, and Eden shuddered, recalling the awful nights she’d spent here and at the King County facility. They followed him past his office and toward the interrogation room Eden had been questioned in that first morning after learning of Peter’s murder.
The door bumped open, and Ariel Bell stumbled out into the hallway. Twin blotches of red stung her otherwise ashen face. Mascara smudged both eyes like jagged black bruises. Seeing David and Eden, she sobbed, “Oh, God. She was just lying there. I thought at first she’d tripped and spilled coffee...or something. But when I bent to help her, I saw—I saw...” Her fisted hand fluttered to her mouth, and she stepped back, right smack into Detective Tagg. “It was blood.”
“What are you talking about?” Eden gripped David’s arm.
Ron Tagg said, “Please, Ms. Bell, let us handle this.”
“What? Oh, of course, I’m sorry.” Ariel’s face grew thoughtful, and she dredged up an apologetic half smile. “I guess I’m still in shock. Not that I haven’t seen dead bodies—”
“D-dead—” Eden recoiled.
“Whose body?” David demanded.
“Please.” Kollecki pointed toward the interrogation room. “If you and Mrs. Prescott would just go inside, I’ll explain.”
David started to protest, but Kollecki’s face was redder than chili powder. The detective didn’t like others stealing his control of a situation, and Ariel had knocked him momentarily out of the driver’s seat.
Confusion and alarm made Eden’s eyes as wide as blue lakes. David guided her past the others and into the interrogation room.
Kollecki heaved his large shoulders. “Tagg, see to it someone takes Ms. Bell home.”
Kollecki shut the door behind them and released a loud breath. “Please sit down.”
Eden dropped onto one of the plastic chairs, but David’s patience was gone. He grasped the back on the chair next to Eden. “You tell us right now what the hell is going on, Kollecki.”
The red started rising in the detective’s face again.
Eden reached up and gripped David’s hand. “Whose body was Ariel talking about?” Her voice held none of the strength of her grip.
Detective Tagg stepped quietly into the room. For the first time, David realized the creases around Tagg’s eyes were as etched as Kollecki’s. “Does this have something to do with Rose Hatcher?”
Tagg shook his head. “Not that we’re aware of.”
“Who, then?” David’s impatience echoed in the concrete-block room.
Kollecki leaned on the table, his palms flat, his gaze settled studiously on Eden. “Valerie Prescott. Ms. Bell found her around six-thirty this morning...when she arrived to pick up a check she says you left there for her.”
Eden’s chest squeezed. “Valerie is...?”
David covered her hand with his and stared at Tagg.
Tagg nodded. “I’m afraid she’s dead.”
Eden gasped.
David shook his head. “D-dead?”
“But she seemed fine when I left yesterday,” Eden whispered, disbelief spinning through her. “How? What happened?”
Kollecki narrowed his eyes at her. “She was murdered.”
Eden’s hand went to her mouth. Suddenly she remembered Ariel ranting about blood. “Shot, like Peter?”
“No.” Tagg ran his hand over his silver crew cut. “Stabbed.”
“But like your husband’s murder, the weapon is once again missing from the crime scene.” Kollecki shifted his gaze to David. “The M.E. says it was something with a blade duller than a knife...but shaped like a dagger.”
David’s eyes widened. “You think she was killed with my letter opener?”
Kollecki stepped back, adopting an innocent expression that immediately brought to mind a benevolent Santa. “I didn’t say that, but I have to wonder why you brought it up.”
“You implied it.”
Kollecki wiped his whiskered jaw with his hand. “From where I’m sitting, it sounds to me as if you’d like me to believe it. You’re the one who claims you had such a letter opener. The one who claims it’s missing.”
“Claims?”
“Well, look at it from my point of view, Doc. I have no proof that it was stolen. Only your word.”
“There are far too many coincidences in this case for you to keep ignoring,” David growled between clenched teeth.
“See, that’s the thing about coincidences—in my experience, most of them aren’t.”
David drew in a steadying breath. Kollecki wasn’t a fool, just dogged. There had to be some way of convincing him to consider even the unproved evidence.
“My letter opener is missing, but—” David broke off and reappraised the hard glint in the cop’s small, dark eyes. “Are you accusing me of killing Valerie Prescott?”
“I’m not charging anyone at this juncture.”
Tagg intervened. “We do need to know where you both were between three and eight yesterday afternoon.”
“If you can alibi each other,” Kollecki said, his smile cold, “then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”
Eden glanced at David, regretting her insistence that they run their errands separately yesterday. David could account for his time until around six. But although she’d spoken to him after that, he’d called from his cell phone, and she realized with sickening clarity that he could have been calling from anywhere.
She had no better alibi. She could account for her time from five-thirty on, but earlier she’d been alone, driving and at the drugstore. Would that snail of a salesclerk recall her asking for the brown paper bag?
David patted her arm. “Don’t say another word. Not without your attorney.”
“You might want to call a lawyer, too, Dr. Coulter,” Tagg said.
Kollecki glared at his partner. Tagg would likely get a dressing-down later, but right now David was in the hot seat.
“I checked with King County after I talked to you this morning.” Kollecki’s voice was deceptively soft. “It seems a patrolman found a white rose on your porch last night.”
David blanched.
Kollecki folded his hands over his belly. “I know you’d have me believe some woman left it after killing Ms. Prescott, but I have to ask myself what proof there is of that. What proof is there that you didn’t leave it there yourself, Doc?”
David bit down his fury, clamping his mouth shut, knowing Kollecki was purposefully provoking him, was hoping he’d say something incriminating. “I’d like to call my lawyer.”
Kollecki didn’t like it, but he respected the law too much to deny them their rights. Eden called her attorney and then Beth and told her this would take longer than they’d originally thought, stalling Beth’s questions by promising she’d explain when she got home.
While she waited for her attorney, Eden was kept separated from David. Her head ached, and her body felt numb. She hadn’t been fond of Valerie, but her murder shocked and saddened Eden.
She felt better having her lawyer present as she gave her statement and better yet when she was allowed to
leave and was reunited with David. The dark clouds overhead leaked the first few raindrops as they hurried hand in hand to his car.
Neither noticed the black compact pull out of the busy parking lot two cars behind them.
Chapter Eleven
David and Eden left Issaquah in silence, the car’s tires slurping over the rain-bathed road, punctuating the tension inside the vehicle. The past few hours had left Eden numb, drained and awash in questions.
“Maybe you should call Beth,” David interrupted her thoughts. “Let her know we’re on our way.”
“I should have done that first thing. She’s probably wondering why we’re so late.” She hit the Redial button on the cellular phone and listened to the beeps as the call was put through. The phone rang and rang. Eden crooked her head at David. “That’s odd. She’s not answering. Where could she be?”
“In the bathroom? Asleep?” David grinned wryly and patted her leg. “Out feeding the ducks?”
“In the rain?”
“It might not be raining at the lake yet.”
“That’s true.” Eden pursed her lips. “I’m mother-henning again, aren’t I?”
“Who can blame you?”
She knew he was referring to what they’d just learned about Valerie, but she appreciated his consideration in not saying it aloud. She didn’t want to talk about Val. Didn’t want to think about telling Beth. Or how devastated Beth would be. Hell, she didn’t want to think about Val, period. Not dead. Murdered. But she couldn’t seem to stop. “David, what was all that business about your letter opener?”
“I should have told you last night.” His mouth stretched into a tight line, and a muscle jumped in his neck. She knew the possibility that his letter opener had been used to kill Valerie was eating at him. He sighed, then explained how he’d discovered it was missing. Along with his shirt. “Kollecki was right. I can’t prove either was stolen. I couldn’t even find where anyone had broken into my house.”
A chilling idea struck Eden. “Could Rose have a key?”
“I admit that crossed my mind. I’m having the locks changed as soon as possible.” He clicked the windshield wipers from intermittent to constant. “In fact, I’ve given Rose a lot of thought and I can’t understand why she would kill Valerie. Shannon and Marianne fit a pattern consistent with her obsession disorder, but Valerie doesn’t.”
Eden’s insides were a mass of jelly. He’d hit on something that had also been nagging her for the past hour. Motive. What could Rose have had against Valerie? Why would anyone murder her? “I had Val at the top of our suspect list before we learned about Rose’s escape. I could see Val as a woman intent on vengeance, a woman obsessed with men she couldn’t have, but not as the victim in this.”
“Are we overlooking something?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Eden sighed and leaned against the car seat, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
A memory jerked her upright. Her eyes flew open, and the seat belt dug into her tender breasts. “Yesterday, when Val helped me carry Beth’s bags to the van, she said something odd.”
“What?” Hope etched the single word.
Eden squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall exactly. “She said, ‘What is she doing here?’”
“And she didn’t say who this ‘she’ was?”
“No. She dismissed it. But I followed the direction of her gaze to a black compact at the corner Stop sign. It was too far away and the windows were so darkly tinted, I couldn’t see who was driving. Could it have been Rose?”
“Did Valerie know what Rose looked like?”
Eden thought back. “Yes. She went to her trial a couple of times.”
The news surprised him. “I didn’t see her there.”
“I think she went because it had something to do with you.”
He glanced away, uncomfortable with this knowledge. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I can’t believe the woman Valerie saw was Rose. Valerie was present at the hospital when that reporter told me Rose had escaped from jail. Val would never have so lightly dismissed spotting an escaped convict in her neighborhood.”
“Never.” The implication chilled Eden. “Not Valerie.”
“If she didn’t see Rose, then who?” He didn’t like it. His doubts of Rose sprang up like a patch of bothersome weeds he could no longer ignore. “If only I could find Rose and talk to her.”
The rain suddenly came down from the sky as violently and loudly as darts hitting the car. Eden’s head pounded in a similar rhythm. She stared through the blinding downpour, forcing her mind to focus on the heavy traffic, on motorists driving slower than the speed limit, on anything that would keep her from contemplating David seeking out Rose for a long, possibly fatal chat.
But what if Rose was innocent? What if someone else was behind all of this? Some unknown, unsuspected someone? Eden’s limbs felt as taut as piano wire, and she ached with impatience to get home and stretch, and maybe even scream in frustration, or cry for a sister-in-law who’d never liked her.
The clacking of the wipers grated on her nerves. She tried phoning Beth again, thinking she’d feel better if she could touch base with her sister. Still no answer. Her muscles tensed, and she silently berated herself for conjuring problems where none existed. Quit mother-henning . Beth was probably napping...or feeding ducks.
But like a dozen hungry mallards, disquiet pecked at her brain.
The closer they got to Lake Retreat, the less it rained. At the house, only a sprinkle fell. “Told you so,” David said, driving through the gate. “All that worry for nothing”
It wasn’t until Eden took one look at the lights gleaming from inside the house that she breathed easier. They’d find Beth curled on one of the sofas reading her book.
But the house was cold inside, and the sofas showed no signs of recent occupancy. Fighting the returning dismay, Eden went through the lower level quietly, not calling out in case Beth was napping. She wasn’t downstairs. Eden took the stairs two at a time. Beth’s bedroom was vacant, the bed made. Eden found the bathroom just as empty. Panic overtook her dismay.
“David!” she called out. “Is Beth down by the dock?”
He glanced out the kitchen window. “I don’t see her.”
A moment later, Eden joined him, and they hurried out to the deck, down the steps, across the lawn and to the lake, calling Beth’s name. She was nowhere to be found. Eden’s fear clawed her stomach. “Dear God, where is she?”
“Don’t panic. Maybe the hospital called.”
“Then why didn’t she call us?”
“Maybe she did...when we were being questoned.”
“She would have left a note.”
“Probably. But call the hospital anyway.”
“How would she have gotten to the hospital?”
“Beth’s resourceful enough to call a cab. Please phone the hospital.”
At a loss for something better to do, Eden darted back inside. David walked the perimeter of the lot and circled the house, shaking his head at Eden as he passed by the kitchen window.
Precious minutes passed before the fourth-floor desk nurse answered. Eden tapped her fingers on the counter. “Hello, yes.” She identified herself and asked if perhaps Beth had been notified of a donor today.
“I’m just coming on shift, Mrs. Prescott.” The voice had a flat quality and didn’t belong to anyone she recognized. “But let me check.”
David came inside. “She’s not outside.”
Eden relayed the nurse’s message to him, breaking off as the flat voice once again filled her ear. “Mrs. Prescott? You still there?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m sorry to say, there was no donor for Beth today. Maybe tomorrow.”
Eden hung up. “She’s not at the hospital.”
The air pressed from her lungs as if a concrete block had landed on her chest. She stared out the window, her gaze transfixed on the dock as she willed Beth to materialize before her eyes. It took a second
to register what else was not at the dock. She caught David’s arm. “The rowboat is gone.”
“Surely Beth wouldn’t have gone rowing.” He craned his neck, focusing on the dock. “It’s too strenuous for her.”
“Then give me another explanation for why that boat is missing.”
He shook his head.
They raced back out into the rain that now plopped on their heads and into their eyes in huge, irritating, saturating dollops. A breeze churned the water. David arched his hand over his eyes and scanned the lake.
“There it is!” He pointed toward a distant corner where a thick clump of water lilies grew.
The boat bobbed in the rising wind. Unmanned. Looking abandoned. Adrift. Terror gripped Eden. “Oh, David, it looks empty. Beth.”
David caught her by the upper arms, his hold gentle but firm. “We don’t know that this means anything. You go back inside, and I’ll borrow the neighbor’s skiff.”
“No!” She squinted against the rain. “I’m coming with you.”
“All right. But go get the phone and some coats”
Minutes later they were seated in the metal skiff, David at the oars. Wind and rain blew against them, slowing their progress. Five agonizing minutes later— although David rowed as fast as possible—they had only reached the halfway point.
Eden’s gaze never left the rowboat. It twisted and her heart twisted with it. It rocked and her stomach rocked with it. What would they find? Her mind invoked one awful scenario after another. She gripped the sides of the boat harder.
David grunted, forcing the oars deeper, the skiff onward. At last they were at the lily patch, three feet from the rowboat.
“Beth?” Eden cried from a throat so tight the word came out strangled.
Wind howled like a taunting devil.
Eden couldn’t breathe.
As David rowed closer, he stretched and peered over the gunwale. “She’s there. In the bottom of the boat.”
Eden saw first the flowered slicker she’d given Beth in her second year of college, then Beth’s raven hair. She lay curled like a sleeping dog. But was she asleep? Eden’s heart was in her throat. “Beth?”
Beth didn’t move. Fear gripped Eden in a vise.