Elusive Identities

Home > Romance > Elusive Identities > Page 14
Elusive Identities Page 14

by Olivia Jaymes


  "You don't have to come with me today," Chris offered. "It would be okay if you wanted me to drop you back at the station."

  "I can take whatever they're going to say. I mean...the DNA hasn't come back yet. I don't want to get all angsty for nothing. We're making a bunch of assumptions here."

  Although the more that Ella looked at those photos of Kelly the more she was convinced that they were indeed family of some sort. It was simply too eerie. Like looking into a mirror.

  "I just don't want to see you hurt or upset."

  There was an earnestness in his eyes that said the same. He was worried about her. Hell, she was worried about herself. But in the end, she'd be fine. Because anything else wasn't an option. She was no victim and she wasn't about to start now.

  "Thank you. Now let's get going. I can't wait to see what Robert Trask has to say for himself."

  Ella didn't like liars. She hadn't thought much of the man when she'd met him the first time and he hadn't improved upon learning more.

  Had he killed Kelly Perkins and then pretended to find the body? What would his motivation be? Had he grown tired of waiting for someone else to find her?

  Their second welcome at Robert Trask's home was slightly chillier than the previous. His smile wasn't as easy and his body language wasn't as open. Still, he welcomed Ella and Chris into his office again but this time he didn't take a seat on the other side, instead remaining standing near the window.

  What Chris had to ask him wasn't going to make the situation any better.

  "We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us again," Chris said. Ella sat at his side but they'd discussed how to deal with the delicate topic. Man to man seemed like the best idea. "We do have one or two more questions for you."

  "Fine, but I do have a busy day," Bobby replied pointedly. "I have other appointments."

  "This won't take long." Chris shifted in his chair, glancing briefly at Ella. Might as well just go for it and deal with the shrapnel as it came. "It's come to our attention that you have an arrest record. We really need to talk to you about that."

  Bobby's face instantly turned crimson, and his shoulders straightened and tensed. "I don't see that it's any business of yours. It doesn't have anything to do with finding that poor girl back then. God rest her soul."

  "That's exactly what I want to do. Let this woman rest in peace, but to do that I need facts. You were arrested for soliciting a prostitute, and we have reason to believe that our Jane Doe might have also been a prostitute."

  Bobby's head jerked up, his eyes wide. "You know who she is? After all of these years?"

  Mental note to self. Robert Trask doesn't seem happy about that development in the case.

  "It's not confirmed," Chris said. "But it's one of our possibilities. Now can we get back–"

  "Let me stop this line of questioning right now," Bobby said, his hand making a cutting motion in the air. "You think that maybe I knew that girl? That I was one of her clients? No way in hell. Not even a possibility."

  "How can you be so sure?" Ella asked, finally looking up from where she was taking notes. "Maybe you should look at the picture–"

  "I don't need to." Bobby laughed but he didn't look happy. "Now listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. I know that I wasn't that girl's client because she wasn't my type. Do you know what I mean?"

  It took a second for Chris but it dawned on him as Bobby continued to stare at the two of them, his brows raised.

  "She wasn't your type," Chris repeated. "In other words, you were seeking out a...different team?"

  With that Ella understood, her frown replaced by a nod.

  "I was in an experimental phase in my life. Need I explain more?" Bobby, finally relaxing, leaned a hip against the dark oak desk. "The police officer took pity on me and made the report sound like something it wasn't. Back then... Let's just say it was a different time. People weren't as open-minded as they are now. You can ask the cop that arrested me. It's the truth."

  Chris would ask the cop but he really didn't need to. He could tell that Bobby Trask wasn't lying. There was no deception.

  "I will check, if you don't mind. I'm sorry that we had to ask you about this, but as I'm sure you can imagine we have to dot every–"

  "I understand," Bobby broke in, his expression sober. "I get it. Do you really think you know who she is?"

  Yes. And no. Chris was an optimistic son of a gun. It was his nature to believe.

  "We've made some progress thanks to the public tips we've received. When we do confirm her identity, we'll let you know."

  And when we put her killer behind bars, you can watch it on the news.

  Next stop...Kelly's husband.

  19

  Steve Adams was a man who had lived a hard life if his appearance was anything to go by. Tall and rail-thin, his face was gaunt, lined, and pale. His steel-gray hair was clipped close and the front receding. Chris would put his age at close to seventy but the short biography that Logan had given him said that he was closer to fifty-five.

  Frankly, he looked as though a puff of wind might blow him over completely. The way his clothes hung loosely on his frame made Chris wonder if the weight loss was recent, indicating an illness.

  Chris had called earlier in the day, not wanting to show up unannounced. Steve was welcoming as he showed them into his shabby apartment, the furniture as worn and faded as the man himself.

  They sat down in the tiny living room and Steve picked up an old shoebox from the end table and handed it to Chris. "Photos. I thought you might want to see them. Some of me and Kelly and some of just her."

  As much as he wanted to look at them, the woman sitting beside him probably wanted it even more so he passed the box into Ella's eager hands. But as he was doing that, it appeared that Steve's attention had been captured by the female in the room. He was staring, his mouth hanging open in shock.

  "Krystle...?" he breathed, his hand covering his heart as if it was giving him pains. "I never thought...you look just like her. It's like having Kelly alive again."

  Steve's voice was choked and Chris could see the tears glistening in the older man's eyes. Ella too looked like she might cry, her lips trembling with emotion. Chris placed his hand on hers, squeezing her fingers in support.

  "My name is Ella," she said simply, her voice barely audible. "Ella Scott."

  Steve frowned but didn't seem convinced, his gaze still taking in her familiar features. "I'm sorry. You just look so much like her..."

  Time to redirect. Ella wasn't comfortable under the scrutiny.

  "Did Krystle spend a lot of time with you and Kelly?" Chris asked, rubbing his thumb against her wildly beating pulse. She was far more affected at this moment than she was letting on.

  The older man shook his head, his eyes sad. "Just a few times. Krystle didn't spend much time with Kelly. She couldn't really take care of a little baby."

  Ella had abandoned the photos, instead staring at this man that had known Kelly.

  "Why don't we start from the beginning," Chris suggested, giving Ella's hand another gentle squeeze. Her skin was cold but she held onto him tightly. "How did you and Kelly meet?"

  Steve dragged his gaze from Ella reluctantly. "Through a few mutual friends at a party. We hit it off right away and started spending as much time together as we could."

  Since Ella was far too distracted to take notes, Chris pulled his notebook and pen from his messenger bag and scribbled a few notes. "Was Sheri Martindale one of those friends?"

  Making a face, Steve shook his head. "I only met her once. She didn't like me or any of us, really. She thought we were a bad influence on Kelly."

  "Were you?"

  "Maybe, but she was a bad influence on us, too. Kelly didn't want Sheri to know all of the things she did. She played a part with Sheri. She could be herself when she was with me."

  "Is that why she married you? And when and where did that take place?"

  Logan and Jared had done a
quick search and hadn't found any record of the marriage in King County.

  His pale skin turned pink. "About that...well...when I put in the missing persons report I said that I was her husband so they would give me information but we never actually got married. We talked about it but we never did it. Didn't seem important at the time."

  That cleared up several of Chris's questions so he skipped ahead.

  "How long were you together?"

  "About a year. I met Kelly soon after she had Krystle." It only took a mention of the name and Steve's attention turned back to Ella. "You look so much like her."

  "Everyone has a twin they say," Chris said loudly to pull the man's gaze back to himself. Ella was squirming again, clearly uncomfortable. He was second guessing his decision this morning to bring her but she'd done so well before. Somehow this was different. Maybe because of what they'd learned about Kelly today? "We know that Kelly had a police record."

  That did it. Steve turned back to Chris, his cheeks even pinker than before.

  "Yeah...right...about that...we both had run-ins with the cops but I've been clean for years."

  Seeing the glazed look in Steve's eyes, Chris didn't think that was exactly true.

  "Such as?" Ella prompted when Steve didn't elaborate. "Drugs? Solicitation?"

  He was already shaking his head before she finished the question. "Now I never wanted her to do that. She only did it a couple of times when she was between regular jobs. I told her not to and that we could get money some other way but she said it was the easiest. Stealing was wrong."

  They'd had a strange set of morals but it looked like it had worked for them.

  "If she sold herself, what did you do?"

  Ella's tone was chilly, her lips a tight line.

  "You know...stuff. I did what I needed to do...I bartended in the same dive where Kelly waitressed. I ran errands and stuff for the owners."

  Chris caught one word in particular. "Errands? What kind of errands?"

  "The kind where you don't ask too many questions. Take the package, don't look in it, deliver it, and keep your mouth shut. They paid good, too. They were good guys."

  I highly doubt it.

  "And you did this so you had money for drugs?"

  Ella's question was enunciated carefully. She was trying hard to hide her disdain but Chris could see it in the set of her shoulders. She'd taken a dislike to the man across from them.

  "Not the hard stuff," Steve replied, his hand reflexively reaching out to rub his opposite arm. "That's not who we were."

  Chris didn't know how Steve categorized illegal pharmaceuticals. What was hard? It didn't matter, to be honest.

  "And Kelly's friend Sheri didn't know about all of this?"

  "I don't know what she exactly knew. I think she suspected but she liked to fool herself into thinking that Kelly was a popular girl who just partied too much."

  Chris would have to loop back with Sheri.

  "Can you tell me about the last time you saw Kelly?"

  "Yeah...sure..." Steve nodded, his gaze traveling back to Ella. "She showed up at the bar late one night. She was supposed to be there for her shift at six but she didn't make it until nine. I covered for her and we weren't too busy so it wasn't a big deal. I asked her where she'd been and she said dinner with a friend. We worked until closing. She was tired so I told her to go on home and I'd close up the place. She wasn't there when I got there. I never saw her again."

  At this point, Chris was going to assume that the dinner had been with Sheri.

  "Was she driving that night?"

  "Yes, but they never found the car. The cops made me report it stolen but it didn't turn up."

  Chris made a note to check that.

  "So she disappeared between the bar and your place?"

  "Yes."

  "Were you worried?"

  "Not at first."

  "Not at first," Ella repeated. "Where did you think she was?"

  "You know..." Steve shrugged. "I just thought she got a call from someone and went out to party. She'd be home eventually."

  Ella clearly hadn't met a whole lot of lowlifes in her journalism career but Chris had come up close and personal with them during his law enforcement years. In comparison, Steve wasn't that bad. His situation was more sad than anything.

  "How long had she been gone before you reported her?"

  "Three days. I remembered from a television show that you had to wait that long."

  State laws varied but at least he'd remembered something.

  "And you never heard anything else from her? No letters or postcards? Nothing?"

  "Nothing. She just...like...vanished. I kept thinking she'd be back. Kelly...she was the restless type. I just always thought she'd be back but she never did. After awhile I lost hope. It never occurred to me that she was hurt or dead. Never."

  Steve looked heartbroken, not attempting to hide his emotion from Chris and Ella.

  "Do you remember what she was wearing, Steve? I know it was a long time ago but it would be helpful if you can."

  Running his fingers through his short-cropped hair, Steve nodded. "I do remember because Kelly was worried about spilling beer on her shirt. It was her favorite outfit. She tied an apron on that night and she usually didn't do that. I think I have a picture... Do you mind? Can I see the box?"

  Ella handed over the shoebox and Steve sifted through the photos, finally pulling out one. "Here it is. This was the first night she wore it. We were going to a party. She didn't have a lot of clothes but she loved this outfit."

  Chris accepted the picture, studying the smiling woman sitting next to a much younger Steve Adams. It was faded but it clearly showed the striped blouse and stonewashed jeans that Chris had seen in the crime photos, right down to the brand tags on the back pocket of the pants.

  He was pretty damn sure that his Jane Doe was Kelly Perkins. A ripple of excitement ran through him because this meant that they actually had a shot at finding the killer. Jane might get to finally rest in peace.

  Ella tapped the photo. "She's wearing the earring."

  Chris held up the picture for Steve. "That night she disappeared...was she wearing the long earring?"

  "Yeah, she wore it pretty much every day. All the time. She only took it out to sleep. She said she didn't want it to get caught on the pillowcase."

  And yet it hadn't been found. Had they simply overlooked it at the dump site? Chris didn't want to place too much emphasis on this small detail but it nagged at him. He didn't like inconsistencies. It kept him from being one hundred percent sure about her identity.

  "Steve, can I borrow these photos? I'll make copies and bring the originals back to you. I promise I won't damage them."

  At first, Chris wasn't sure he was going to give permission and then he nodded. "Yeah, sure. It's just all I have left of her, you know?"

  "I understand and I'll be very careful. I'll bring back the originals in a couple of days, okay?" He slipped the photo back into the box and carefully closed the lid. "Steve, can you tell me the names of the guys that owned that bar you worked in? Maybe some of the regular customers?"

  It was a long shot, especially if Steve's memories were twisted from whatever substances he might have been imbibing at the time, but to Chris's surprise he reeled off three names in an instant. Chris quickly wrote them down, putting stars next to their names. He wanted to be sure that Logan and Jared checked them out. They didn't sound like law-abiding, legit businessmen.

  "I don't remember the customers much," Steve admitted. "But I remember my boss. He wasn't the type you would forget."

  They might even be the type to commit a murder.

  In the meantime, he'd put a name - a real name - to Jane's face. They were one step closer to the truth.

  20

  "Nice place."

  Ella laughed at Chris's dry tone. He was currently staring up at her building and taking in the fancy neighborhood.

  "I'm housesitting," she explained, cl
imbing out of his vehicle. "It doesn't belong to me. The last place I lived in I shared with two other roommates, remember?"

  "So you stay here all by yourself?"

  "Just me and the cat. He doesn't hog the bathroom so we're okay."

  He followed her into the building and up the elevator to the top floor. There were two loft apartments on this level. One to the left and one to the right.

  Ella turned right when they exited the elevator and dug into her purse for her keys while juggling her small leather backpack. Before she could put the key into the lock Chris had insinuated himself between her and the door, pushing her behind him.

  "Stay here," he said softly. "Don't move."

  It took a moment to register that he'd pulled a gun out from under his jacket. She hadn't even known he was carrying a weapon, although she should have assumed it. He was like a grown Boy Scout, always prepared for any situation.

  And what was the situation now?

  She couldn't see around his wide shoulders but he slowly opened the door that was supposed to be locked and that's when she was hit in the head with a clue by four. The gun hadn't done it but the unlocked door had. Her heart went straight to sixty miles an hour.

  "I didn't leave the door unlocked this morning."

  "I didn't think you had. Now stay here and call 911."

  "I–"

  Placing his finger over her lips, he shook his head then slipped in the front door, leaving her out in the hallway. Sweating. It was pooling on the back of her neck and under her arms as her overactive imagination played out several scenarios each one worse than the last, and every one of them ending with one or both of them lying in a pool of blood.

  She had to remind herself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Focus. Don't wander. Stay in the moment in case Chris needs help.

  Although she didn't have a fucking clue what she'd do if he did. She wasn't armed and she was no black belt. She did have some pepper spray in her backpack.

 

‹ Prev