by Mary Burton
‘Oh, yes. She’s fine,’ she rushed to say. A sudden weight bore down on her chest. And suddenly, the words tumbled out. ‘I’m thinking about giving her up for adoption. I’m not sure if I can be the kind of mother she deserves.’
There was no judgment in Ayden’s gray eyes, just a hint of sadness. ‘Have you chosen a family?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘And I know I need to make a decision soon.’ Emotion threatened to overwhelm her and she sipped her tea, hoping it would calm her. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean for this to turn into a therapy session.’
A warm smile curved the edges of his lips. ‘You’re fine. Were you working today?’
God bless him for changing the subject. ‘Yes. I was taking head shots for a client. In fact, I stayed late so I could get the retouches done and get the project off the desk.’
‘Rush job.’
‘Not really. My client gives me the creeps and I just wanted the work off my desk.’ She voiced her fears out loud so he could tell her she was being silly.
‘Who’s the client?’
She broke off a piece of her cookie, not sure why she’d even brought up the topic. ‘I’m probably being silly, but it’s Dana Miller. I’m being silly, right?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve crossed her path a couple of times.’
This was the part where he was supposed to tell her not to worry. ‘And she was fine, right?’
‘I wasn’t impressed.’
‘Oh.’
He leaned forward. ‘You’re finished with her, right?’
‘Right.’
‘Then don’t sweat it. Just say no to any other jobs.’
‘You’re right. I’m just overreacting.’ She needed to hear the words.
‘I didn’t say that. I’m just saying I wouldn’t work for her again.’
She sighed. ‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘For just letting me babble. I work alone so much, I don’t get the chance to talk to people very often.’
Creases formed around his eyes when he smiled. ‘You are doing me the favor. I’ve got two teenaged sons who only talk about bodily functions and cheerleaders.’
She laughed out loud.
Ayden sat back, savoring the sound of Nicole’s laughter. When he’d first seen her last summer she’d worn her hair shorter and she’d dyed it blond. In the last seven months the bleached strands had grown out and been cut away. Now ink-black hair framed her round face. He preferred the dark to the light. It made her blue eyes all the more expressive and alluring.
Pregnancy agreed with Nicole. The extra roundness of her face was preferable to last summer’s gauntness. And despite her protruding belly she still possessed an air of grace.
‘What are your boys’ names?’ she asked.
He sensed genuine interest. ‘Caleb and Zane. Sixteen and fifteen, respectively.’
‘They keep you busy, I’ll bet.’
‘You’ve no idea.’ He thought about the fiasco this morning. ‘At six this morning, Caleb remembered he was supposed to be here for the S.A.T. session at eight. He woke me up oblivious to the fact that I’ve worked a lot of late hours this week on a case.’
She rested her chin on her hand. ‘I could be a little spacey when I was a teenager. I drove my mom nuts. She was always a sport, though.’
‘Caleb’s mom, my late wife, was the calm one. I wish she’d been there this morning to smooth the explosion.’
Since his wife’s passing two years ago, Ayden had never been able to talk to another woman without first thinking about Julie. Guiltily, he realized he’d not thought about her at all since Nicole sat down. ‘Julie was always good at getting the boys where they needed to go. I never had to worry.’
Nicole’s face softened. ‘I remember Zack saying you’re a widower. How’d she die?’
‘Cancer.’ He liked Nicole’s directness. He’d grown tired of dancing around other people’s discomfort over Julie’s death.
The familiar lump formed in his gut, but the sharp pain of loss was finally starting to ease. ‘I do the best I can to keep her memory alive for the boys. But it’s getting harder and harder for them to remember.’
She nodded, her expression serious. ‘If I look at pictures of my mother I remember her. Otherwise, it’s hard.’
‘How long has she been gone?’
‘Eight years. Car accident.’ She straightened as if the baby kicked.
It was none of his business how she was doing, but he wanted to know. He’d worked with the Richmond and San Francisco police who’d unraveled her late husband’s murder sprees. They’d all been violent, vicious crimes.
‘I gotta say,’ Ayden said, ‘you appear to be doing real well.’
She nodded, understanding his meaning. ‘I’m just putting one foot in front of the other. I figure as long as I keep moving I can hold it together.’
‘That’s exactly how I felt when Julie died.’
She sipped her tea. ‘But I didn’t love my husband. Not at the end anyway.’
‘But you did at one time.’
‘Sure. In the beginning.’
‘It’s logical to mourn that loss.’
‘I mourned that loss a long time ago. The real struggle has just been learning to live again. To think for myself. I wanted to buy shoes the other day and for a split second wondered if Richard would approve. Moments like that make me angry.’
She had a fighter’s spirit. ‘You buy the shoes?’
A wicked grin curved the edge of her lips. ‘In brown and in black.’
The front doors of the shop opened. A blast of cold air rolled in with a gangly boy who had the same color of eyes as Ayden. The kid’s gaze scanned the shop and landed almost immediately on him. The boy grinned.
Ayden was glad to see his son but sorry his visit with Nicole would have to end. ‘Number one son has arrived.’
Nicole twisted and looked up at the boy. She smiled.
Ayden rose. ‘Caleb, I’d like you to meet Nicole Piper.’
Caleb shook her hand. ‘Hey. Nice to meet you.’
‘How’d the test go?’ Ayden asked.
‘Good.’
‘Any problems?’
‘No.’
He wondered if the boy would ever speak in complete sentences again.
Nicole grinned. ‘I remember my S.A.T. I think I got a two on the math.’
Caleb nodded. ‘Math was a bear but I aced the English part.’
‘When I took my test, the proctor opened the windows. Outside, the university was hosting a charity carnival. The noise was a big distraction.’
‘Yeah, some kid in our classroom kept tapping his foot. It was a real pain.’
Ayden watched the exchange, thinking he’d just witnessed a minor miracle. Caleb had completed sentences and was engaging in a conversation.
‘Hey, Dad, can we head out? I’ve got a paper to finish for science.’
Ayden glanced at Nicole’s half cup of tea and uneaten cookie. ‘I hate to leave you like this.’
Nicole’s eyes twinkled with amusement. ‘I’m never alone when I have a cookie.’
‘Right.’ Still, it bothered him that he was leaving behind a very pregnant woman to fend for herself. He reminded himself that she was none of his concern. But the argument fell on deaf ears. He dug five dollars out of his pocket. ‘Caleb, grab yourself a cup of coffee for the road and then we’ll head out.’
Caleb took the money without question. ‘Cool.’
Ayden sat back down. ‘Don’t let me hold you up. Eat.’
Nicole started to eat her cookie. ‘He’s a good kid.’
‘Yeah. I credit his mother. I’ve always worked insane hours.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short.’
For the next few minutes they sat and talked while Caleb flirted with the girl behind the counter. They talked about Nicole’s photography and she told him an amusing story about an uptight bride. The exchange was, well, nice.
As luck would have it, Caleb came back to the table
just as Nicole was finishing off her cookie and tea.
Ayden rose. ‘We can walk you to your car?’
Nicole lumbered to her feet. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’m just a few blocks from here.’
‘A few blocks. We’ll walk you.’
Caleb glanced at him. His expression was a mixture of amusement and surprise, but thankfully the kid didn’t blurt out whatever thoughts pummeled his mind.
Nicole picked up her purse off the floor. ‘It’s twenty degrees outside. Save yourself.’
‘I’m parked out front. I’ll drive you.’ The more he thought about her walking down city blocks alone, the more the idea bothered him.
She seemed grateful for the favor and allowed him to guide her out of the shop. Caleb lumbered behind.
Ayden opened the front passenger seat of an unmarked white Crown Vic and waited as she lowered herself into the seat. When she was settled, he closed the door.
‘You gonna open my door?’ Caleb muttered.
Ayden glared at the glint in the kid’s eye. ‘Get in the car.’
Caleb climbed in the back while Ayden slid behind the wheel. He fired up the engine and pulled into traffic.
Nicole directed him to the parking lot where she’d left her car. Her skin looked a little pale now and he guessed she was exhausted.
‘Thanks for the ride,’ she said.
‘Take care.’
‘Will do.’ She climbed out and moved to her car. Once inside, she fired up the engine and then waved an all clear to him.
Caleb got out of his seat and into the front. Ayden waited until Nicole pulled out and waved her thanks.
‘Jeeze, Dad, she’s like a hundred months pregnant and you’re giving her “the look.” ’
Annoyed, Ayden pulled onto Cary Street. ‘I wasn’t giving her a “look.” ’
Caleb clicked his seat belt and leaned back in his seat, pleased with himself. ‘Oh, it was a look all right.’
Ayden shot his kid a good-natured glare. ‘Stow it, kid.’
Then Ayden’s cell phone rang. He glanced down at the number displayed.
Zack Kier.
A call on his day off couldn’t be good.
Standing in her spare room, Kendall wore jeans, a faded T-shirt, and paint-spattered sneakers when the cell in her pocket rang. She glanced at the yellow paint can she’d been preparing to open and flipped open the phone. ‘Kendall Shaw.’
‘There’s been another murder,’ Brett fired off. ‘How soon can you be ready to cover it?’
Kendall’s heart raced. ‘Give me fifteen minutes.’
‘Good.’ He gave her the address. ‘I’ll have a cameraman meet you there.’
Adrenaline rushed her system. ‘I’ll be there in a half hour.’
The paint job forgotten, Kendall showered quickly, pulled her hair into a neat French twist, and donned a chocolate cashmere sweater, dark suede pants, and boots. Good to her word, she was mobile in fifteen minutes.
On the way to the crime scene, she mentally ran through the questions she wanted to ask. She prided herself on not only looking her best but also having the sharpest questions.
A woman should be more than a pretty face. Henry Shaw, her father had said that a lot. He had never let Kendall trade on her looks. He’d expected her to work hard in school and prove she could succeed in spite of her looks.
Her dad had provided ballast for his type-A wife, Irene, and his daughter. The women’s personalities were so much alike and her dad had often said they were ‘two peas in a pod.’ Kendall had always liked it when he said that because it made it easy to pretend that Irene had given birth to her and that there wasn’t another woman out there who’d given her away.
‘What made me think of that?’ Kendall muttered as she slowed for a red light. She forced her mind back to the story and the victim. Minutes later, she turned right on Laburnum and quickly spotted the flashing blue lights of the police cars. The Channel 10 van was waiting in a Chinese restaurant parking lot across a side street. The other television crews had arrived. This was going to be chaos.
She parked behind the van and got out. The cameraman on the scene was new and she’d only worked with him a couple of times. ‘Hey, Lin. Where’s Mike?’
Lin was tall and lean. He couldn’t be more than thirty but his shoulders stooped like those of an old man. ‘Don’t know.’
It wasn’t like Mike to miss a story like this. ‘Follow me. Let’s cross to the crime scene and see what we can see.’
He nodded, reached in the van, and hoisted a camera onto his shoulder. ‘Will do, boss.’
The wind cut into her skin as she crossed the intersection toward the crime scene. She made it as far as a sidewalk before she reached yellow tape and a patrolman stopped her.
Kendall tossed the officer her trademark smile.
But before she could ask her first question, he said, ‘No one’s getting close to the scene. Especially you.’
Her smile held, though annoyance rose in her. ‘Can you tell me anything about the victim?’
‘No.’
‘Is Detective Warwick here?’ This was a long shot. ‘He’ll talk to me.’
That made the man laugh. ‘He’s busy.’
Frustrated, she glanced at the store. There’d be no getting in now. She turned and started back across the street toward the van. The corner was lined with other stores and a growing number of onlookers. Someone had to have seen something.
Lin’s long legs kept pace easily. ‘So what now?’
‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat.’
Jacob had been waiting for Kendall since her station’s news van had arrived. He’d seen to it that she didn’t get close to this story.
A flutter of movement caught his attention and he watched as Tess turned the body on its side. She pushed up the victim’s shirt. Pale blue speckles covered the dead woman’s lower back.
Tess looked up at him. ‘She died sitting in a chair. But she didn’t sit as long as the last one. Whoever did this didn’t keep her as long.’
‘Almost as if he was in a rush.’
‘Right.’
The similarity between the two victims and Kendall had to be addressed. The likeness could have been dismissed as coincidence with one victim, but not two. Jacob needed to talk to Kendall.
Over the last year, he’d managed to collect an odd assortment of facts about Kendall. He’d never gone out of his way to dig up information on her, but when she was mentioned, he paid attention.
Both her parents were dead. No siblings. Model. Loved Paris. Won several awards. He didn’t want to talk to her here. A conversation between them would not go unnoticed and he didn’t want to draw the attention. He’d wait. Until he could find her alone.
Kendall spent the better part of the morning talking to bystanders, store owners, and anyone who might have seen something. People were happy to talk to her, but all rambled on about details that couldn’t be built into a story. At four she and the other members of the media had gotten a briefing from the police department’s public information officer. But the details had been scant. Female. Caucasian. Manner of death yet to be determined.
She’d called Phil White a couple of times to get his reaction, but he’d not answered his phone.
So when she returned to the station at about five, she was frustrated, tired, and hungry. It would be a long night piecing together the bits into a story.
Kendall passed reception and headed down the hallway toward her office. She stopped short at the threshold. Detective Jacob Warwick stood in her office.
Warwick stared at the pictures on her wall, the paperweight from her desk in his hand.
He studied her space. She did the same thing when she entered someone’s office. Furnishings and styles revealed a lot about a person. Neat freak. Slob. Pack rat. Hobbies. She’d been careful to choose furnishings that telegraphed cool and sophisticated. All part of the Kendall Shaw persona that she’d nurtured for the last few years. She wasn’t sure w
hy she now felt like a fraud.
‘Detective.’ She couldn’t decide if this was a stroke of luck or not.
He turned, unrushed and seemingly not caring that he’d been caught staring at her pictures. He set the paperweight down. ‘About time you got back.’
Kendall pulled back her shoulders and smiled. She refused to betray the flutter of nerves in her belly. ‘This a social call, Detective, or are you going to give me an interview?’
A second glance at him and she noted the dark circles under his eyes. She’d bet he and his partner had been working around the clock since the first body had been found. ‘No to both.’
That puzzled her. ‘Okay. Why are you here? I’ve got a story to write.’
Warwick hesitated as his gaze lingered on a picture of Kendall and her parents. ‘You look happy in this picture.’
‘It was taken at my high school graduation.’ She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain. ‘That was the last picture taken of the three of us. Dad died three months later.’
A hint of regret darkened his eyes. He understood her loss. He had loved and lost a foster father who had been just as dear to him as her father had been to her. Losing a parent left a wound that would never quite heal no matter how much time had passed. Suddenly, she felt sadness for Warwick.
‘You don’t look like your parents.’
She cleared her throat. ‘Mom always said I was a throwback to another generation.’ Her mother’s lie had been told so often that it rolled off Kendall’s tongue automatically. ‘Why are you here?’ Impatience had leaked into her voice.
He met her gaze head-on. ‘What I’m about to say has to stay off the record for now.’
Her senses perked up. ‘There’s no such thing as off the record.’
His gaze pinned her. ‘If you can’t give me your word that none of this will leak out, then I’ll go.’
Reporters were nosey by nature and she was no exception. Warwick had something important to tell her and not knowing would drive her nuts. But she could see in his expression that he would walk out of her office right now if she didn’t give him her word. Damn. There was no way around it. ‘You have my word.’
‘I mean it, Kendall. No leaks.’
That irritated her. ‘When I give my word I keep it. Period.’