by Mary Burton
She moved to the table by the bed, picked up the phone, and dialed Nicole’s cell. It went immediately to voice mail, a sign it was off.
‘Nicole, this is Kendall. Where are you? Call me. I’m going to shower now. If I don’t hear from you in the next hour, I’m headed over to your studio to track you down. Call me.’ She hesitated. ‘Better yet, I’m coming down to your studio right now.’
Adrianna Barrington pushed through the doors of her interior design shop just after eight.
She’d been in Paris for the last two weeks buying antiques for several of her clients and was jetlagged and cranky. The consolation was that the days, even though they had been long and sometimes exhausting, had resulted in some stunning finds. She’d purchased several lovely French provincial chairs, two antique mirrors, and a Louis XVI secretary that would be perfect for the house she was furnishing on River Road.
Her interior design shop was small and located in a strip mall across from the area’s upscale mall in the city’s West End. The building space had little to no charm, but its location afforded her an excellent traffic of high-end clients.
The walls were painted in a pale yellow and covered with every imaginable accessory, from mirrors to gilded shelves. On the floor were furniture samples and in the back a large table crammed full of fabric swatches. The back wall was devoted to cubbies filled with wallpaper books. A round glass table surrounded by gray upholstered chairs hovered in the far corner.
‘Adrianna, is that you?’ Margaret Barrington, her mother, called out from the back storeroom. They’d opened the shop together four years ago after Adrianna’s father had died.
Adrianna had suggested the shop as a way to keep her mother busy after her dad’s death. Depression had always plagued Margaret and she was delicate by nature. Margaret had reluctantly agreed to the business, and to both their surprise, it had quickly taken off. They were doing better than either had thought possible.
‘Yep, it’s me, Mom. I just got in from the airport.’
Margaret pushed through the chintz curtains that separated the front store from the back office. In her early sixties, she wore a blue Armani suit that fit her trim frame and accentuated silver hair swept up into a chignon. She was a petite woman and Adrianna had towered over her since she was in the seventh grade.
Her mother frowned. ‘You must be exhausted.’
Adrianna ran slim fingers through her long blond hair, which hung loosely around her shoulders. She wore designer jeans, a silk blouse, and black heels she’d just picked up in Paris. ‘I slept a little on the plane. But I want to keep moving until at least nine tonight. I need to get back on schedule as soon as possible. I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon with Alderson Developers to discuss the decoration of a dozen model homes.’
Margaret beamed at her daughter. The two had always been close, but Adrianna was mentally and physically so much stronger than her mother. ‘I know you’ll be brilliant.’
Adrianna picked up the stack of mail from yesterday and started to flip through it. Tired, she was only halfway paying attention. She almost missed the handwritten envelope behind an electric bill.
Handwritten items in the mail were a rarity these days and they always caught Adrianna’s eye. It’s why she always made a point to write personal notes to her clients on her embossed stationery.
Adrianna held on to the envelope and tossed the other mail onto her desk. ‘No return address. I wonder who this is from.’
Margaret smiled and her attention drifted to a stack of new fabrics that had arrived yesterday. ‘One of your many admirers.’
Adrianna laughed. ‘Not likely. I swore off men after Craig.’ She pushed her manicured finger under the envelope’s thin flap and tore it open. The paper inside was yellow legal paper.
Curious, she pulled the note out and scanned the heavy handwriting. Sarah, when I find you, we will be a family.
Sarah. She didn’t know a Sarah. The person must have used the wrong address. She rechecked the envelope and confirmed her name was above the address. ‘Who the devil is Sarah?’
‘Hmmm?’ Margaret turned. ‘What did you say, dear?’
‘Who is Sarah? The note is for Sarah and it says, “Sarah, when I find you, we will be a family.” That’s odd.’
Margaret took the note from her daughter and read it. A frown line creased the center of her forehead. Her skin paled under her expertly applied makeup. ‘I don’t know what it means. Likely, it’s just trash. Throw it away.’
Adrianna stared at her mother with intense curiosity. ‘Are you all right? You suddenly look pale.’
‘I’m fine,’ Margaret said. And as if to prove it she smiled. ‘I just don’t like crank letters.’ She balled up the letter and tossed it into a wicker wastepaper basket by the front counter.
‘Do you know who Sarah might be?’
‘I’ve no idea. Someone is playing a stupid joke on you. And I don’t like it.’
Adrianna shrugged. ‘Frankly, I’ve got better things to do than worry about it. Now let me show you pictures of all the goodies I’ve found.’
Margaret nodded, her smile tight. ‘I can’t wait.’
Jacob cradled a cup of coffee in his hand as he moved into C.C.’s office. ‘You left a voice mail. Said you found something.’
She glanced up from a file on her desk. ‘I just got the land search on the families who owned that tract of land near where victim number one was found.’
‘Anything unusual?
‘As a matter of fact, yes.’
Before she could explain, the cell on his hip vibrated. He glanced at the number and saw that it was Dr Butler. ‘That’s the M.E. Give me a second.’
She nodded, her eyes sparking with curiosity. ‘I wonder what he wants?’
Jacob flipped open the phone. ‘Dr Butler.’
‘Detective.’ A shuffle of papers crackled in the background. ‘I ran DNA tests on the first two victims, as you requested. And I’ve gotten preliminary results. It’ll be at least another week on the third, and that’s only because I’m pushing with all I’ve got.’
‘What do you have?’
‘The first two victims have enough genetic markers to suggest they are related.’
Jacob tensed. ‘How related?’
‘Most likely siblings. Sisters.’
He clenched his jaw. ‘Okay. Thanks, Doc. Put a rush on the third victim’s DNA. I want to know if she’s related to the other two.’
‘Will do.’
‘Thanks, Doc.’
Jacob hung up the phone. He recapped the information to C.C. ‘The third victim doesn’t look like the other two. I’m only guessing they’re her sisters.’
C.C. lifted an auburn eyebrow. She reached behind her and picked up a picture of her taken at her sister’s wedding last fall. Three tall blondes and C.C. stood arms linked and smiling. C.C. was cute by anyone’s standards and had a nice figure, but the sisters were, well, goddesses. ‘As you can see, sometimes sisters don’t look so much alike.’
He stared at the picture. ‘Yeah.’
‘I’m a genetic throwback. Maybe number three was the same.’
‘We’ll know soon enough. What did you have to say?’
‘Right. I did a search on the land. I got a list of all the people who owned Alderson’s land for the last twenty-five years. I really didn’t think I’d find much.’
‘And?’
Her expression turned grim. ‘Twenty-five years ago Elijah Turner and his wife, who both owned a tract about a mile from where the first victim was found, were murdered.’
‘Details?’
‘No. But I’ve got the name of the investigating officer. He’s retired now.’
Jacob glanced at the name but didn’t recognize it. ‘Get his phone number for me.’
‘Sure.’
Kendall opened the door to Nicole’s design studio with her spare key. Nicole had given her a key, joking that she was getting so forgetful that she was afraid she’d lock herself out
of the studio. ‘Nicole, are you in here?’
She flipped on the lights and walked around the space. Light shone in from the tall windows onto the portraits Nicole had hanging on her whitewashed walls. The place was neat and tidy. There was no sign of trouble. No sign of Nicole.
‘Where the devil are you?’
Kendall left the studio and locked the door behind her. She walked down the long stairs and out into the cold. Her gaze scanned the lot to see if her car was still here. She didn’t see it.
Her cell phone rang and she flipped it open. ‘Kendall Shaw.’
‘Kendall, honey, this is Jenny.’
Disappointment washed over her. ‘Hey, Jenny.’
‘You all right, dear? You sound upset.’
She shoved her long fingers through her hair. ‘I’m fine. What’s up?’
‘I found your mother’s old cookbook.’
Kendall tightened her jaw. ‘Jenny, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. Can we talk about cookbooks later?’
‘No, no, dear. I didn’t call you about a cookbook. I called you about what I found inside it.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Your mom gave it to me right before you all moved. I asked to borrow it and we both just forgot I had it.’
Kendall held on to her patience. ‘Jenny.’
‘In the book is an old letter. By the date it must have come within weeks of your adoption.’
‘What does it say?’
‘It’s from your adoption agency. It has your real name in the letter.’
‘What’s my name?’
‘Eve. Eve Turner.’
A cold gust of air blew across her face. ‘Let me know if you find anything else.’
‘I will, honey.’
Kendall closed the phone. For a moment she just stood there staring at the parking lot. ‘Eve Turner.’ It was a stranger’s name. It was her name.
She burrowed her hands into her jacket pockets and started to walk the lot. As much as she wanted to learn all she could about Eve, she kept walking. First she had to find Nicole.
Nicole said she tried to park as close as she could to her office because walking made her back hurt.
She checked every car in the lot and didn’t see Nicole’s. The more she searched the more her sense of unease grew.
Kendall dug out her cell phone to call Jacob. Maybe she was overreacting but she was willing to take the risk. She flipped open the phone and realized she didn’t know Jacob’s number. They’d slept together and she couldn’t even call the guy.
‘Great.’
She thought about Nicole’s doctor. Dr Young. West End. She’d go there and see if she was there. And if she wasn’t, then she’d call in the big guns.
The drive took her less than fifteen minutes. She pushed through the lobby door, hurried down a tile hallway and into Dr Young’s reception area. The room was full of a variety of pregnant women.
She went to the appointment window. ‘I’m looking for a friend of mine. She’s a patient of Dr Young’s. She didn’t come home last night and I need to find her.’
The receptionist peered over half-glasses. ‘I can’t tell you anything about a patient.’
‘Is Dr Young here?’
‘She’s with a patient. You can’t see her for at least a few hours.’
Kendall tapped her foot. She turned but instead of leaving pushed through the door that led from the reception area into the back.
‘Hey, you can’t do that!’ the receptionist shouted.
Kendall kept moving. She spotted Dr Young as she came out of an exam room. ‘Dr Young?’
The doctor looked up. ‘Yes?’
‘My name is Kendall Shaw. I’m a friend of Nicole Piper’s. She didn’t come home last night and I’m worried. Have you seen her in the last eighteen hours?’
‘Doctor, this woman burst in,’ the receptionist said.
The doctor held up her hand to stop the receptionist. ‘No, I haven’t seen her.’
Kendall’s unease doubled. ‘Could she be in the hospital and you not know it?’
‘She would call me if the baby was coming.’ The woman grimaced. ‘Unless she was unable to call. Let me call the hospitals.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
Kendall waited as Dr Young called all four hospitals in the immediate area. No Nicole Piper. No one fitting her description.
The doctor hung up the phone on the wall. ‘Nothing.’
Kendall nodded. Something was very, very wrong. ‘Thanks.’
‘Call me when you find her.’
‘I will.’
Kendall left the office and kept moving until she reached her car. She called Carnie Winchester at the adoption agency and learned no one there had seen Nicole either.
This was wrong. All wrong. ‘Damn.’
Dialing again, she waited until an officer answered, ‘Henrico Police.’
‘Jacob Warwick, please.’
The operator sent her to voice mail. She pressed zero on her phone and asked for Zack Kier. When she learned he wasn’t on the premises, she asked for David Ayden. She made a point to mention this was not work related. It was personal. An emergency. Even after all that, she still wasn’t sure if Ayden would take her call.
A few seconds later, a deep voice said, ‘Ms Shaw.’
‘I need a favor.’
‘I don’t give interviews or quotes.’
‘It’s about my roommate. Nicole Piper.’
‘Something wrong with the baby?’ The edge in his voice turned to concern.
‘I can’t find Nicole. I went by her studio and she wasn’t there. I called the adoption agency. Went to her doctor’s office. No one has seen her. This isn’t like her.’
A tense moment followed. ‘I’ll put out a bulletin now.’
Relief washed over her. ‘Thank you.’
‘Has anyone been bothering her? She had concerns about Dana Miller.’
Kendall couldn’t hide her distaste. ‘I saw Dana talking to her at Lindsay’s opening.’
‘But you haven’t seen Dana around?’
‘No.’ She checked her watch. ‘I don’t think Nicole came home last night. I didn’t realize until this morning that she was missing.’ Panic laced each word.
‘Okay. I’ll look into this.’
‘I’m going by my house right now and see if she’s returned.’
‘I’ll start looking for her.’
She gave him her private cell number. ‘Please call me as soon as you find out anything. I’ll do the same.’
‘Good.’
‘I half hoped you’d tell me not to worry and that I was overreacting. But I’m not overreacting, am I?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
Tears burned in her throat. ‘Look, I know we haven’t been on the best of terms.’
‘None of that matters. Let’s find Nicole.’
‘Thanks.’ She called Brett to tell him she was going to be late.
*
The effects of the overnight flight were catching up with Adrianna so she headed to the Java Café, located three doors down from her shop. She’d ordered a triple espresso, extra hot.
She visited for a few minutes and then pushed out of the door back into the bitter cold. She shivered, wishing she’d taken time to put on a jacket.
Three steps away from the café, a man called out to her.
‘Hey, Miss Barrington.’
Smiling, she turned.
The guy standing there looked average enough. Jeans. Flannel shirt. Dark hair. But there was something about him that set her nerves on edge immediately.
Maybe it was the way he clenched and unclenched his right hand. Maybe it was the fact that his left hand was in his oversized coat pocket and she couldn’t see it. Or that behind him a parked truck waited unmanned and running. All the facts collided in her brain in a fleeting moment.
She took a step back. ‘Yes?’
His gaze on her, he stepped toward her. ‘I have
something for you.’
Electricity snapped and popped as he jerked his hand from his pocket. He was holding a Taser.
The next seconds played out in excruciating detail.
Adrianna threw her hot coffee at him. The steaming hot black liquid hit him squarely in the face. Immediately, he pressed his hands to his face and recoiled. He dropped the Taser.
‘Bitch,’ he growled.
Adrianna didn’t bother to analyze the situation. She ran. And screamed as loud as she could.
It was close to two when Jacob and Zack parked in front of Adrianna Barrington’s design shop. They’d been headed to see the retired officer who’d investigated the Turner murders when they’d gotten a call: Woman approached by would-be attacker. The responding officers had found a Taser on the sidewalk. The victim, Adrianna Barrington, looked like Kendall Shaw’s twin.
Jacob pushed through the front door of the design shop, Zack following him. Bolts of fabrics, soft carpeting, and overstuffed chairs greeted them, along with soft scents of lavender. The place was very feminine. Very upscale.
Jacob didn’t understand people who put so much time and energy into choosing their décor. But the place reminded him of Kendall. She would eat up the kinds of stuff displayed in the shop.
The place was a reminder that he and Kendall were polar opposites. The chances of them making it were slim. A smart bookie wouldn’t touch a bet on their relationship.
And still he knew he wanted it to work between them. He just hoped wanting was enough to overcome the odds.
Jacob and Zack moved to the front desk, where Jacob saw a bell. He tapped it with his hand. From behind a curtained door he heard, ‘I’ll be right there.’
The curtains fluttered and an older, very distinguished woman appeared. She was dressed in sapphire pants and a blouse. Her silver shoulder-length hair was held back with a silver headband. Her smile faltered when her gaze skimmed the two men. ‘May I help you?’
Jacob moved forward but not so close as to spook her. He pulled out his badge, as did Zack. ‘We’re looking for Adrianna Barrington.’
Her spine stiffened. ‘May I ask why?’
Jacob felt as if he had an audience with the queen. ‘We have a couple of questions for her about the attack today.’