‘I’m sorry,’ he called back. ‘I’m going now.’ He headed down the stairs and to his car, taking comfort in the fact that her glasses had been so thick she hadn’t a prayer of reading his license plates.
He drove away, parking at a convenience store parking lot where he opened the file and looked at the photos Nicki had taken of the condo building when she’d been here before. It was the same place. Margo Winchester had been there along with her roommate, but there had been no old lady.
It was reasonable to assume Mrs Klein could have been in the hospital then. Her scar looked recent enough. So why was Margo using the condo? Was she a squatter? Who had the other young woman been?
He called his office. ‘Have you found anything about the fire?’ he asked Alyssa.
‘Not everything you asked for, but you’re not going to like what I did find.’
‘I kind of expected as much. Well, let’s have it.’
‘The fire occurred a week ago and is a suspected arson. A victim was found inside, an adult male. As yet unidentified. This was all the newspaper had.’
His heart sank. An adult male. ‘Evan. Shit. What about the house? Who owns it?’
‘The bank. It went into foreclosure six months ago, Clay.’
He sat up straight. ‘What?’
‘The bank owns it. If Evan was living there, he was squatting.’
Not good. ‘And the condo where Margo was living has been the residence of an eighty year old woman for the last fifteen years. She’s never heard of Margo.’
‘What are you gonna do?’
‘I’m going to pay a visit to Evan’s ex-wife, then check into a hotel and grab a nap before Margo Winchester’s club opens. If she’s not dancing tonight, maybe one of the other dancers can tell me where she really lives.’
‘What should I do?’
He thought hard. Fatigue was catching up to him. ‘Check out a Mrs Klein.’ He gave Alyssa the condo’s address. ‘Find out about her relatives. Especially any female relatives about thirty years old. Nicki’s got a note here that Margo called the woman Linda, and that Linda had a tattoo of a cobra striking on her upper right arm.’
‘Lovely,’ Alyssa said with disgust. ‘Not.’
‘It might help ID her. And find out when Mrs Klein had open-heart surgery. If my hunch is right, it’d be about the time Nicki came down here two months ago to check Evan out, right before she took his case.’
‘You think Margo was squatting too.’
‘Yeah. I just don’t know why.’
Monday, May 3, 2.45 P.M.
‘The coast is clear, Dr Trask,’ the female CSU analyst said. Her name was Cherise Taylor and she seemed very capable. She was also nearly six feet tall and built like a brick. Lucy felt safe and intimidated at the same time.
Relieved, Lucy let out the breath she’d been holding as she’d stood outside her apartment door. ‘No more boxes with heart wrapping paper?’
‘None that I see. A CSU team will be by later to do a complete sweep, but I see no evidence of an intruder. You can come in and gather your things. I’ll stay with you.’
Lucy entered her apartment, chills pebbling her arms. She’d left this morning feeling secure. Now, she felt violated. And scared. She walked through each room, looking to see if anything had been disturbed. ‘Nothing looks out of place.’
‘That’s good,’ Cherise said. ‘Can you open your fire safe? We need to know if your spare set of keys is there.’
Her hands trembling, Lucy managed to get the key in the lock. ‘They’re here.’
‘I’ll take the safe and its contents. We’ll see if it’s been handled.’
Because a killer could still have been in my place, made a copy of the key and put it back. It was enough to make a sane person paranoid. ‘I’ll just pack my things.’
‘I need to come with you,’ Cherise said apologetically.
Lucy sighed. ‘I know.’ In her bedroom she took a suitcase from her closet, then looked over her shoulder. ‘How long should I plan to be gone?’
‘Hard to say. A few days, maybe.’
‘Okay.’ Lucy pulled several suits from the closet, then hesitated before she grabbed one of her little black dresses. It was black and it was little. It was also leather. Kind of a must-have for the club. She slipped the dress between the suits, grabbed a few pairs of shoes, and put the lot in her suitcase.
She packed her toiletries, then stood at her dresser, staring at her treasures. She ran her fingers over the worn violin case that had graced her dresser top for the five years she’d lived here. The violin had belonged to Mr Pugh, but Barb had given it to her for safekeeping when Mr Pugh had no longer been able to play.
If there ever was a fire, it would be one of the three things she’d grab on the way out. The second was a silver picture frame, hinged to hold two photos – a dark-haired teenage boy with a serious face and a football helmet under his arm, and a smiling blond man astride a motorcycle, his helmet also under one arm.
The boy had been her brother, Buck. The man her first fiancé, Heath. Both were dead. Both had left her alone, just in different ways. I’m tired of being alone.
Lucy got a duffle bag and put the violin case and the picture frame inside. From her jewelry box she took an old cardboard box. Opening it, she let out another relieved breath. The bracelet was still there. It was the third thing she’d take with her, a gift from a brother to the sister who’d loved him. Needed him. The engraving on the cheap charm still made her smile sadly. #1 Sister.
Then the ‘#1’ made her frown as the image of Russ’s back intruded. She put the box in the duffle, hefted it on her shoulder, then turned to Cherise. ‘That’s all I need.’
She waited in the hall while Cherise locked her front door and padlocked it with a crime-scene lock.
‘Lucy? What’s all this?’ Mrs Korbel stood on the landing above, her wrinkled face concerned.
‘It’s okay,’ Lucy soothed. ‘The police are just investigating what happened this morning. I’m fine. Really.’
Mrs Korbel’s eyes narrowed skeptically. ‘Very well, as long as you’re all right.’
‘I am. Thank you for asking. I checked on Barb and Mr Pugh. They’re fine, too.’
‘I know. I called Barb this morning. She’s staying with her sister, you know.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Well, I need to be going now.’ She’d gotten to the next landing when Mrs Korbel called her name again. She looked over her shoulder to find the old lady looking sad. ‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘I hope you come back soon, Lucy. We’ve missed your concerts the last few weeks you were gone.’
Startled, Lucy cast a quick glance at Cherise who looked interested, but who said nothing. She looked back up at Mrs Korbel. ‘I didn’t know you were listening.’
Mrs Korbel looked surprised that Lucy was surprised. ‘We all do, child. For Barb’s sake nobody wants Jerry upset, but hearing you play to calm him down is . . . well, it’s good for the soul. Come home soon.’
For a moment Lucy didn’t know what to say. ‘Thank you. I will.’
Monday, May 3, 2.55 P.M.
Mr Yee of Yee’s Express was an elderly man with a pencil-thin mustache. His eyes darted nervously from his files to JD and Stevie as he searched for a record of the morning’s delivery. ‘My nephew is a good boy.’
‘We didn’t say he wasn’t,’ JD said calmly. ‘But somebody hired him and we need to know who that was.’
‘He’s on his way in. He’s over at the harbor, so it’ll take him a few minutes. Here’s the record you want.’ Yee pulled a piece of paper from the folder. ‘It was arranged by Dr Russell Bennett. Charged to his Visa.’
‘Chutzpah,’ JD murmured and Stevie nodded.
‘Sir,’ she said, ‘how did the box arrive? Did anyone drop it off?’
‘No. I remember that one now that I saw Bennett’s name. I got a call from Dr Bennett saying he’d been delayed on a business trip out of town and didn’t want to miss his anniversary with his
ladyfriend. He sent the box through the mail with instructions to deliver it today. He didn’t want his ladyfriend to be angry.’
‘When did you receive the box?’
‘Yesterday afternoon, last mail delivery.’
‘What about the key to her car?’ Stevie asked.
‘Came with the box. There was the wrapped box with a bow and a little envelope with a key and a note saying where we could find the car.’
‘Where’s the note and the key?’ JD asked.
‘Jimmy’s got them. He’ll bring them back when he comes in.’
‘Okay,’ JD said. ‘And the shipping box? Where is that?’
Yee looked bewildered. ‘Cut down and put out with last night’s trash.’
‘Did the garbage truck come yet?’ JD asked, hoping.
‘No, not yet.’
Yes. ‘We’ll want to search for that box.’
Yee’s bewilderment grew. ‘Why?’
Stevie ignored his question. ‘Didn’t you think it odd that he wanted the box delivered to a lady’s car and not her house or office? And that he’d have her key?’
‘And that he’d send it to you through the US mail?’ JD added.
Yee shrugged. ‘Dr Bennett sometimes does strange things.’
‘So you’ve done business with him before,’ JD said.
‘Sure. He’s a good customer.’ Yee looked rueful. ‘Lots of lady-friends.’
‘Did you know he was married?’ Stevie asked.
‘Yes, but . . .’ He shrugged again. ‘Not my business.’
‘What kind of things does he ask to be delivered?’ JD asked.
‘Usually roses, candy, theater tickets. Once there was a bucket of sand with some oyster shells. Turned out one of the shells had a pearl and diamond ring in it. Worth about four thousand bucks. So I didn’t think anything about this.’ The bell on the door rang and the three of them turned toward it. ‘Jimmy,’ Yee said, relieved.
The young man took in the scene, warily. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m Detective Fitzpatrick and this is my partner, Detective Mazzetti. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the package you delivered to that car this morning.’
Jimmy looked to his uncle, panicked. ‘You’re not in trouble,’ his uncle said. ‘Is he?’
‘Not right now,’ JD said. ‘First, can we see the note and the key?’
The boy produced them from his backpack. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘It’s okay,’ Steve said. ‘We’re not after you. We’re after the guy who sent this box.’
‘Dr Bennett?’ Jimmy asked, stunned. ‘Why? I mean, the guy’s a total douche, but he never did anything illegal.’
‘Jimmy,’ his uncle scolded. ‘I will not tolerate that language.’
‘Why did you say he was a douche?’ JD asked and the boy shrugged.
‘All those women, none of them knowing about the others. I felt bad doing those deliveries. Made me feel . . . responsible. Like I should have told them. But I didn’t. My uncle said it was none of our business. To just do the deliveries.’
JD looked at Stevie. ‘We don’t have to get those names from Herrigan,’ he said.
One side of Stevie’s mouth lifted. ‘Silver lining. Mr Yee, we’re going to need a list of all the women you’ve delivered to for Dr Bennett.’
Yee blew out a breath. ‘How far back?’
‘Five years,’ JD said. ‘Maybe six.’
‘That’s a lot of women, Detective,’ Yee said, alarmed.
‘And we appreciate the work it will take,’ JD replied. ‘We need the most recent six names now. We’ll wait. Here’s my card with my email and fax number. We need the less recent names as soon as possible.’
Yee took the card, clearly upset. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes,’ Stevie said. ‘You talked to Dr Bennett yourself? Did he sound like himself?’
Yee frowned. ‘I don’t remem—Wait. He had a cold. I remember saying it was a shame he had a cold in the summer. He said, “You have no idea.” And he laughed.’
JD thought about Bennett’s body, flash frozen. ‘What number did he call from?’
‘It must have been his cell, which I have on record. Otherwise I would have written it on the order. That’s procedure. Just in case their card doesn’t go through.’
‘Detective?’ Jimmy asked quietly. ‘Is Dr Bennett okay?’
‘We’re not sure yet,’ JD averred. ‘But son, next time somebody asks you to deliver something to a car, don’t.’
‘What was in that box?’
‘That’s part of our investigation, Jimmy,’ Stevie said. ‘We’re not at liberty to say. But the garage was closed down for an hour while law enforcement searched the car.’
Unsteadily the boy moved behind the register. ‘We have deliveries for the last five years in our system. Anything older and we’ll have to go to storage to get the records.’ He looked up, his eyes shadowed. ‘There’s no courier-client confidentiality, is there?’
The question was asked so gravely, JD had to keep his lips from twitching. ‘No, son,’ he said, equally gravely. ‘We appreciate this.’
In two minutes Jimmy handed JD a list. ‘There are a few men on it,’ Jimmy said. ‘I remember those were regular envelopes, maybe for business.’
There were about forty women on the list. JD flipped to the last page, angered to see Lucy’s name. Written in the ‘Item Delivered’ column was ‘Barbie Doll’ and he remembered her saying that was how Bennett had broken through her defenses. Bastard.
‘Thanks, Jimmy,’ he said. ‘Call me or my partner if Bennett makes any further contact with you.’ JD drew Stevie aside. ‘I’ll search for the shipping box if you want to start checking on those names. See where they come from.’
‘Be it ever so humble,’ Stevie murmured to let him know she’d be checking for any connection to Bennett’s hometown. ‘Hurry. We still have the first ex to notify before we drive out to see the parents.’
‘We’ll pick up Lucy on the way.’
Stevie checked her watch. ‘I’ll take my own car and follow behind you, in case we run late. Cordelia’s got that thing at school tonight.’
‘Not just a “thing”,’ JD said. ‘It’s not every day a girl graduates from kindergarten. And your whole clan will be on hand, hankies in one hand, camcorders in the other.’
Stevie flashed an amused grin. ‘Exactly. So get busy dumpster diving.’
Monday, May 3, 3.20 P.M.
‘It’s a beautiful day.’ And it was. The sun was shining and the wind was just strong enough to cool his face without rocking the boat too much.
He looked down at the deck where Janet Gordon lay bound and quivering. ‘Where should we start?’ he asked and she shrank back against the deck, tears on her face. Her tears did not move him. They were selfish tears, cried only for herself. Leaning over her, he sliced the gag from her mouth with his very sharp filleting knife.
‘Well?’ he asked quietly.
‘Please, don’t kill me,’ she sobbed. ‘Please. I didn’t do anything.’
He stared down at her, shaking his head. ‘Unbelievable. You still don’t get it, do you? That you didn’t do anything is exactly why you’re here.’
He turned the knife one way, then the other, making sure she could see his blade in all its sharpened glory. She sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of her lungs, which made him smile. He lifted her up in his arms so that she could see where they were.
‘Look around you. Nothing but open water. So scream all you want. I like it.’
He dropped her and she blinked, temporarily disoriented. ‘Please. I’m begging you.’ Then she drew a deep breath, her struggle for control a fascinating sight. She still thought he might let her go. ‘You won’t get away with this,’ she said ominously, although her desperation was clear. ‘I wrote a letter.’
He cocked his head, interested. ‘Really? To whom?’
‘To the DA. It had everything in it. Everything I knew.
Everything that happened that day. Everyone that was there.’
‘And where is this letter?’
‘With my attorney. If anything happens to me, he’s to mail it to the DA.’
‘Hm. So Bennett was telling the truth about that, too.’
She stared, stunned. ‘You knew?’
‘Yes. When Bennett told me about you, I said I didn’t believe anyone would be so stupid as to let someone who was blackmailing them around them with sharp knives. He said you’d shown him the letter, that he had to keep you alive. And happy.’ He lifted his brows. ‘How happy did he keep you, Janet?’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ she spat. ‘That’s disgusting.’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘That’s disgusting? You use the murder and rape of an innocent girl to get a nose job, and having sex with Bennett is disgusting?’
‘She wasn’t innocent,’ Janet blurted from behind clenched teeth.
He abruptly went still, inside and out. ‘What did you say?’
She also went still. Maybe she was finally getting it. ‘Nothing.’
He crouched down, his temper ice cold. ‘You think she wanted to be assaulted? Beaten until she was unrecognizable? You think my sister wanted it? That she asked for it? Maybe her skirt was too short. Maybe she slept around?’
Janet pursed her lips and said nothing.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘is your son’s name in that letter?’
She closed her eyes. ‘No,’ she whispered.
‘How will he feel when he finds out what you traded for your silence?’
‘It won’t matter. He won’t care. He hates me.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘Because I wouldn’t tell the police what he’d done.’
This surprised him. ‘Really? Ryan wanted you to tell the cops?’
‘That’s why he told me. He wanted to be punished, but he couldn’t turn himself in. Wanted me to do it for him.’ There was contempt in her voice that made him feel the tiniest bit sorry for her son. But not that sorry. Ryan was, bottom line, a coward.
‘And you said no.’
‘It would have ruined our family, and it was too late to help anyway. The killer was dead and those boys . . . they had families. Futures. We couldn’t tell.’