by Mary Burton
Two victims. Both strangled. A prude. And a drug addict. Their only link was their physical appearance. And the charms.
Dark hair. Tall. High cheekbones.
Like Kendall.
‘Warwick, have a look at this.’ Zack stared at an ashtray at the end of the bureau.
Mrs Mullin leaned forward to see what he was talking about. She started to follow Jacob, but he shot her a warning glance that halted her in her tracks.
In the center of the ashtray laid remnants of a piece of yellow paper that had been burned. Most of the paper was blackened ash, but there was a tiny section in the center that hadn’t burned.
Jacob frowned as he stared at the script. Damn. ‘Do you see it?’
‘Yeah,’ Zack said.
‘What is it?’ Mrs Mullin asked. She’d inched forward and wrinkled her nose as she tried to peer toward the nightstand.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jacob said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out rubber gloves.
Mrs Mullin sniffed. ‘This is my property. I got a right to know.’
Jacob flipped open his cell. ‘Ma’am, you need to consider this room sealed for the duration. It’s a crime scene now.’ He dialed the station and requested a forensics van.
The writer’s heavy hand had practically sliced through the paper with the tip of the pen. Though most of the note had been destroyed, the remaining five words were very clear.
Judith, when I find you.
Chapter Twelve
Monday, January 14, 9:00 A.M.
The Channel 10 news station was Jacob’s first stop of the day. Deliberately, he’d arrived early, knowing Kendall generally arrived around two. He wanted to talk to her boss, Brett Newington, uninterrupted.
It had continued to plague him that the two victims looked alike and both resembled Kendall.
The lobby had undergone a massive renovation. The art deco style and faded gray carpet were gone. Now there was a sleek modern look that featured lots of glass, a polished receptionist desk, and new carpeting.
On the walls were the pictures of the station’s different anchors. Kendall’s image was the centerpiece. Her gaze was direct, her smile bright. Behind her green eyes was an intelligence that sparked and set her apart from just about everybody. The arch in her left eyebrow suggested she knew a secret or a private joke that the rest of the world didn’t know.
Jacob slipped his hand into his pocket. Since he’d first seen her on TV last year, he’d dreamed about her. There’d been other women in his life, but his thoughts kept returning to her. She’d gotten into his blood. And it annoyed the hell out of him. Nothing like wanting what you could never have.
He turned to the receptionist, pulled out his badge, and introduced himself. ‘I’d like to see Brett Newington.’
The receptionist’s eyes rounded in surprise. She picked up her phone and dialed a number. She dropped her voice an octave. ‘There’s a Detective Warwick here to see you.’ She listened, then replaced the receiver. ‘He’ll be right out.’
Jacob didn’t have long to wait. Brett Newington appeared within seconds. The guy wore gray creased pants, a white shirt with his initials monogrammed on the cuffs. His shoes were polished, expensive. No tie. One thousand-watt smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
So Kendall and this guy had been an item? Jacob never would have put the two together. Her personality was too strong, too vibrant. She’d have eaten this guy for lunch. He could see a guy like this – the kind who thought he was hot shit – getting pissed that a woman like Kendall had dumped him.
‘Detective Warwick,’ Brett said, extending his hand. ‘Is there a problem?’
The receptionist had bowed her head but Warwick knew she wasn’t missing a bit of the conversation.
‘I have a few questions for you. Is there somewhere we could speak in private?’
‘Sure.’ He glanced at the receptionist, who had become very interested in a memo. ‘Sally, would you hold my calls?’
‘Sure, Mr Newington.’
Brett nodded and without a word turned and headed down a hallway. Jacob followed. The renovation had extended down the hallway, leaving behind the faint smell of new paint and carpet.
They passed by one office and Jacob noted the name Kendall Shaw on the door. An intern stopped Brett with a question right in front of her open door. Jacob glanced into her office and, like yesterday, was surprised the space was so small. Like everything else about Kendall, it was tasteful, discreet.
‘She wouldn’t take a bigger office,’ Brett said. He answered the intern’s question and it was just the two of them again. ‘She likes being close to the action.’
Jacob would have figured she’d have wanted all the bells and whistles that went with fame. He nodded and followed Brett into his corner office. This space was three times the size of Kendall’s. In the corner there was a small round conference table with three chairs around it and across the room Brett’s wide desk. It was glass, sleek, and covered with files and tapes. Certificates documenting Brett’s accolades covered white walls. The guy had had an impressive career.
Brett closed the door. He chose to sit behind his own massive desk instead of at the conference table. ‘Have a seat.’
Jacob sat across from Brett’s desk. If the guy thought a piece of furniture could intimidate him, he was wrong.
A collection of pictures on the credenza behind Brett stared back at him. One of the larger ones was of Kendall and Brett. Kendall stared directly at the camera, her smile brilliant. Brett was grinning but he wasn’t staring at the camera, but at Kendall. There was no missing the fact that the guy had a thing for her.
‘Nice picture,’ Jacob said. ‘When was it taken?’
Brett followed his gaze. ‘It was taken about five months ago, the night Kendall did her first broadcast as the evening anchor.’ Everyone around them in the photo held up champagne glasses.
Jacob remembered the broadcast. ‘Looks like it was a big party.’
‘It was. Convincing Kendall to join our anchor team was a huge coup. She cost me a small fortune, but she’s been worth it.’
Newington made Kendall sound like a prized mare.
‘How are your ratings?’
‘Never better. The public can’t get enough of Kendall. She’s a beautiful woman, if you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Hard not to.’
‘Between you and me, she’s high maintenance.’
The woman Jacob had seen yesterday seemed anything but high maintenance. She was smart and hardworking. ‘Really?’
Brett frowned. ‘It’s no secret that we dated once. I broke it off because she was calling me at all times of the night. It got very tiring after a while.’
The guy’s candor surprised Jacob. ‘That would have been last winter.’
‘Yes.’
‘Her mother was dying about that time.’
‘Yes.’
‘Seems natural a woman would call her boyfriend for support.’
He straightened. ‘Look, I tried to be sympathetic. I really did. But it got to be a terrible drain. I couldn’t work during the day because she’d had me up all night.’ He dropped his gaze and removed an imaginary piece of lint from his pants. ‘It might have been different if Mrs Shaw liked me. But she made it clear she wasn’t happy about me or the fact that Kendall was on television.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Mrs Shaw was an intensely private woman. There were times when I thought she wanted to keep Kendall all to herself. I tried to mention this to Kendall but she wouldn’t hear of it. She was very loyal to her mother.’
‘No other relatives?’
‘None. Frankly, it was her lack of family that appealed to me. My ex-wife had a shitload of relatives who were always getting between us.’ Brett sat back in his high-backed chair. ‘So what’s this about?’
‘Has Ms Shaw gotten any odd fan mail lately? E-mails or letters that didn’t sit right?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘She’s had a coup
le of e-mails. But that can be par for the course. The world is full of losers who think they know a TV personality. Why are you asking this?’
Jacob let the question slide. ‘Would you mind getting me copies? I’d like to look them over.’
Brett’s chair squeaked as he leaned forward. ‘Has Kendall reported some kind of threat? She should have come to me with a problem like that first.’
‘No threats.’
Brett checked his watch. ‘What’s the point of this conversation?’
‘Just following a train of thought. If you’ll get me those e-mails that should be it.’
Brett picked up his phone. ‘Can you make a CD of Kendall’s fan e-mail? Great. When? Right now.’ He winked at Jacob as if to say no problem.
Brett hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. ‘You ever consider granting an interview to Kendall on the Guardian killings from last summer?’
Jacob stiffened. He’d had the question often enough and had always refused. ‘Does Kendall want an interview?’
Brett dodged the question. ‘It’s still big news. We’d do a first-class job.’ The bastard’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Jacob’s life had been gutted and Newington wanted to turn it into a show.
‘What does Kendall say?’ His voice was low, more like a growl.
‘So far she’s said no. She refuses to do the piece. She’s being hardheaded about it. But if you said yes, maybe she would say yes.’
Jacob’s body radiated menace. ‘No interview. Ever.’
Brett cleared his throat, surprised by the ferocity in Jacob’s voice. ‘Right.’
The secretary appeared in the doorway with a disk in her hand. ‘Mr Newington, I have those e-mails for you.’
Brett appeared relieved by her appearance. ‘Great.’ He took the disk, dismissed her, and handed it to Jacob.
Jacob pocketed the disk but didn’t trust his voice to speak.
Brett swallowed. ‘Well, you know your way out.’
‘Yeah, sure.’
Jacob made his way to the lobby. He paused at the receptionist’s desk. It was amazing what a receptionist knew about people in the office.
What was her name? Sally. ‘I bet Ms Shaw gets a lot of e-mail, Sally.’
The woman’s eyes perked up at the sound of her name. ‘She gets at least two marriage proposals a month from some fan.’
‘She must get a kick out of that.’
‘She tries to answer as many as she can.’
‘Any regulars sending her e-mail?’
‘I hear she’s got a few who e-mail her regularly.’
‘Is Ms Shaw dating anyone?’
The woman’s eyes took on a knowing look. ‘No.’
‘What about Newington?’
That question made her frown. She didn’t like the guy. ‘No.’
Jacob thought about the photo behind Brett’s desk of Brett and Kendall. The son of a bitch still had a thing for Kendall. ‘Thank you for your time.’
‘Sure, no problem.’
Jacob strode out of the building and climbed into his car. He thought about Brett’s request for a Guardian interview.
She’s being hardheaded about it.
Clearly Brett had put the pressure on Kendall to conduct one. But she’d refused.
Ironic. He’d felt so much damn guilt over her shooting, she would have been the one person who would have gotten a yes had she ever asked him for an interview.
He fired up the car engine.
His sense of obligation to Kendall deepened. If there were a nut out there threatening her, he’d do whatever it’d take to protect her.
Kendall was running late. After she’d found the letter last night, she’d been wired and figured she’d not sleep anymore. But just before dawn, she’d dozed off and hadn’t awakened until nine-thirty.
She clamped on a gold shackle bracelet as she hurried down the center staircase. She’d chosen a winter-white dress that accentuated her slim figure and set off her olive skin and dark hair. Along with the bracelet she wore matching gold earrings that dangled just a little.
She’d planned to leave the house by nine so she could swing by Serenity Family Services before work. It hadn’t been a part of her adoption but she wanted to talk to Carnie Winchester about performing a search. When Carnie had spoken to Nicole, she’d seemed to understand the ins and outs of the adoption maze, and Kendall realized this was an area where she’d need help.
But she had to hurry. She would have loved to devote the day to Carnie but it was just a matter of time before the cops would announce the name of the latest murder victim to the press and she wanted to be on hand to cover the announcement. She had sent another e-mail to the tipster who’d helped her with the White murder but there’d been no response.
The front doorbell rang. Her high heels clicked across the floor as she hurried to answer it. Through the oval window by the door, she saw her carpenter, Todd. A part of her was grateful he was there, so he could get closer to finishing up the job. Another part was already weary of having a stranger in her house. The sooner the job was completed, the better.
She snapped open the door. ‘Good morning.’
The man touched the bill of his ball cap. In his other hand he held a dented toolbox. ‘Morning, Ms Shaw.’
She braced against a cold gust of air and stepped to the side. ‘Come on in. You know the way to the kitchen.’
He grinned, wiped his feet, and came inside. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
She closed the door and rubbed her hands together. ‘So how is it going?’
‘Real well. I got the plumbing and wiring done for the new appliances and the cabinets will be here later today.’
‘So you’re on schedule?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘You’re an angel.’
The comment made him blush. ‘Just doing my job.’
She followed him as he headed toward the kitchen. ‘Believe me, a contractor who runs on time is a rare and wonderful thing.’ She stopped at the coat closet in the hallway, pulled out her white coat, and slipped it on. ‘So I’ll have new cabinets tonight?’
‘That you will.’
‘Great.’ She tied the coat’s belt into a knot. ‘I’ve got to leave early today. My roommate is still here but she’s up and awake.’
‘Good. I don’t like waking her. She needs all the sleep she can get. When is the little one due?’
‘Just a couple of weeks.’
‘She must be excited.’
‘She’s ready to have this baby born.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’ve got to run.’
‘Go on ahead.’
Just as she snapped up her purse her cell rang. Biting back an oath, she dug it out and pushed it open. ‘Kendall Shaw.’
Brett was on the other end. ‘Warwick was just here.’
Kendall smiled at Todd, turned, and moved toward the front door. ‘What did he want?’
‘He was asking questions about you. And any e-mails you received.’
That shocked her. She thought about the tipster’s text message. It wouldn’t be on the station’s server but would show on her phone records. Warwick’s tenacity could easily lead him to her cell records. ‘Why?’
‘That’s what I want to know.’
The two victims looked like her. She’d promised not to tell. And she wouldn’t, though it was the worst decision she could make as a reporter. ‘I have no idea what he was after.’
Kendall heard Brett close the door to his office. ‘I don’t like being treated like an outsider, Kendall. You aren’t telling me the whole truth.’
The emotion in Brett’s voice caught her off guard. ‘Why would I hold back?’
‘That’s what I’m wondering.’
Todd clanged open his toolbox and pulled out a wrench.
‘I don’t have time for this now. I’ll be at the office soon,’ she said.
‘Are you and Warwick dating?’
‘What?’ Her surprise was genuine. ‘No.’
&n
bsp; A tense silence followed. ‘When you get to the office we need to talk. About us. And this time I’m going to do the talking.’ He sounded angry, frustrated. ‘We have a lot to iron out.’
Iron out? There was nothing left for them. She wasn’t sure if there had ever been anything between them. Aware Todd was in earshot, she bit back a retort. ‘See you later.’
‘Everything all right?’ Todd asked, poking his head around the side of the kitchen door.
Her heart pounded in her chest. The exchange had made her angry. ‘Yeah. It’s nothing.’ She grabbed her purse and smiled. ‘See you tomorrow.’
The cold air cooled her flushed cheeks the instant she stepped outside. She hurried to her car, started the engine, and pulled out of the garage. At this time of the morning, the heavy traffic of commuters had subsided, so the drive through the city took only minutes. She pulled up in front of the adoption agency, then drove to the parking lot behind the building and parked.
Kendall hurried up the brick front steps of the simple building and pushed through the front door. The directory in the foyer read SERENITY FAMILY SERVICES, ROOM 204. She dashed up the side stairs and down the second-floor hallway. She entered the suite.
No one was at the receptionist’s desk. She glanced to the two offices behind the desk, one open and one closed.
‘Hello? Kendall Shaw here.’
‘Come in.’ The voice came from the open door.
She peeked into the office. Behind the desk sat Carnie. She’d pulled her red hair into a ponytail. Soft curls framed her pale face and accentuated the freckles covering her slim nose. She wore a dark green turtleneck, black drop beaded earrings, and jeans. Smiling, she rose. There was a relaxed easiness about her that Kendall envied.
‘Carnie,’ Kendall said with a rush of relief.
‘Kendall Shaw.’
‘Thanks for agreeing to see me.’ She shrugged off her coat and draped it over her arm.
‘What can I do for you?’ She gestured toward a chair in front of her desk.
Kendall sat down and fearing she’d lose her nerve spoke quickly. ‘I wanted to talk to you about an adoption.’