Picture Me Dead

  She went in, deactivated the alarm, then locked the door. Even that act made her a little nervous. What if someone had attacked Karen? What if that someone was still in the house? She might have locked herself in with a predator.

  She gave herself a serious mental shake. She and Jan were overreacting to a situation that probably didn’t even exist.

  “Karen!” she said.

  The living room was as charming as ever. She could see both the kitchen area and the little tiled family room behind the dining room. She walked through the living room, noticing that the living room was as organized as Karen always kept it. Neat as a pin. Nothing was disheveled or out of place. On top of a bookcase there were several pictures. Karen with her mom and dad, with her sister and brother. Karen with the large family hound, Otter, taken when the beloved pet had still been alive. Karen, herself and Jan, strapped into bungee cords at the Dade County Youth Fair, several years before.

  “Karen!” she called out again, and moved into the kitchen. Nothing out of order. Dishes done, put away. She was definitely the neatest and most organized of the three of them.

  Ashley ducked her head into the small hallway bath. Empty. She forced herself at last into the guest bedroom, which Karen used as a computer room. Clean and neat, every paper in its place, her incoming and outgoing boxes filled, but even the envelopes in them aligned.

  Ashley’s feet were dragging as she headed for Karen’s bedroom door.

  It was shut.

  “Karen?” she called out softly. Still no reply. She put her hand on the knob. But before she could twist it, she was startled by a loud and violent pounding on the front door. She jumped. As she pulled back, the knob twisted in her hand. The door squealed on its hinges and inched ajar.

  The room was dark.

  The pounding came again….

  Ashley ignored the noise, and turned on the light.

  Sunsets on the road were often glorious. The sky turned to incredible pastel shades, with streaks of gold flashing through them as the last rays of day disappeared. When darkness came, though, it felt infinite, especially out in the Everglades.

  Night had long fallen. The world had boiled down to nothing but the lights of approaching cars and those of the vehicles that followed behind Jake.

  Then, ahead of him, the world became bathed in the glow of the city again as he neared the Miccosukee casino and crossed back over to an area that was increasingly more inhabited. If he kept going long enough, he would reach the strip where too many prostitutes had once plied their trade. Many of them had wound up strangled, their mangled bodies usually discovered within days. They had been killed by a man who had made mistakes, not as clever, as he’d thought he was. He had given himself away and been caught. Farther down, closing in on downtown, the street would lose its English orientation and become known as Calle Ocho. Crimes closer to downtown often had to do with passion or with deals gone sour. There were often witnesses to street violence, and clues aplenty.

  There were always clues. No crime was perfect. Even so, despite the best efforts of law enforcement and modern forensics, some crimes went unsolved.

  Not this one. He felt he had something. All the pieces to a jigsaw puzzle. They just had to be put together.

  Tomorrow he would be taking a long drive. The call might have been a hoax, but thanks to caller identification, he knew that at least it had come from the prison.

  His instinct told him that the call had indeed been made at Bordon’s request. Bordon had always had the answers. Until now, he hadn’t been willing to give them, to admit to anything.

  Had he changed his mind? If so, why?

  Fear? Of someone on the outside? Or the inside?

  Then again, Bordon was a master manipulator. There were no guarantees. The man might enjoy the prospect of having the power to bring him north time and again, working him like a yo-yo.

  There was no sense of going insane now. He would make a call to the prison later, and head up first thing in the morning. Waiting would be a bitch.

  Once in town, Jake didn’t take the left that would have brought him to police headquarters, nor did he continue on to the marina. Despite the time, and the fact that he would arrive unannounced, he had decided to pay another visit to Mary Simmons.

  The Hare Krishna building was a nice one, off a street near a dog park, where the residents had always enjoyed their lush foliage, an asset of the area that was maintained vigilantly. The shrubs and trees were not as manicured as they tended to be in Coral Gables, but they had a defiant charm all their own. At night, just blocks down, the area came alive with its shops, restaurants and clubs. The Krishnas often chanted their way down those populated streets, gathering what donations they could along the way.

  When he arrived, though, the building itself seemed quiet. He was welcomed at the door by a fellow whose head was entirely shaved, except for the long tail of hair that grew from his pate. He was young, with idealistic eyes and the manner of one who had decided that he was going to be at peace with the world, whether he really understood his doctrine or not. He was polite and eager to help Jake, even before Jake showed him his badge.

  He went to retrieve Mary.

  She didn’t seem too surprised to see Jake, and welcomed him, telling him that they could talk outside. He joined her in a little garden area and got right to the point. “Mary, I understand Bordon had whichever woman he chose each night and that there wasn’t any jealousy, that the women could also sleep with others, if they chose.”

  She nodded, then gave him something of a sad smile. “We all wanted Peter, of course. It’s hard to describe to someone else how a man could…could make women want him that much when they were sharing him. There were other men. John Mast, for one.” She sighed, pleating the folds of the long orange robe she was wearing. “John is dead. I know that, of course.” She looked up, suddenly vehement. “And don’t go thinking that John Mast had those women killed because he was jealous of Peter. John was a believer. A true believer in what we were doing, in sharing the good of God’s earth…in loving one another. He was a good man. Smart. I think he knew he was eventually going to get in trouble over the finances, because I heard him argue with Peter a few times. He was always worried. But Peter didn’t listen to him. And John wasn’t invited around when the doors were closed. I feel very badly about John. He went to prison without saying a word, just for doing what he’d been told. And then he died.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Mary. But I didn’t come here to talk to you because I’m convinced one of your…friends was evil. I think something else was going on. Something maybe none of you knew about.”

  She shrugged. “Well, that could be. But whatever was going on, Peter would have known. He told us when we had to be in, and when we had to be out, working.”

  “Did boats ever come through the canals?”

  “Sure. Every day.” She smiled. “I’m sure lots of boats are still going by. Little boats. Canoes, rowboats, small motorboats. That’s why people like to live along the waterways, Detective Dilessio.”

  He smiled back. “Of course, Mary. Did any of those boats ever pull up at the back of the property? Did Peter Bordon have anything delivered that way?”

  She shrugged. “Could be. I don’t know. I was never asked to help unload anything from a boat. How much could you actually bring in by boat? Only small vessels could get through. And airboats, of course. But they’re so loud…. I heard one every now and then. But they never stopped. Not that I can remember.”

  “How about canoes?”

  She hesitated. “Maybe. Sometimes…late at night, when I was in the common room, I would hear noises. But we knew not to leave, you see. We all had a place, and we all kept to our place. That’s the way it was.”

  “Maybe everyone didn’t keep to her place, Mary. And maybe that’s why those girls died.”

  A flicker of pain crossed her features. “Maybe,” she agreed.

  “You had drugs available, right? Lots of drugs?”
>
  “Lots of aphrodisiacs,” she murmured. Then she met his eyes. “Sure. Lots of drugs. We didn’t shoot up or anything…. At least, I didn’t. I’m clean as a whistle, Jake. So is everybody here.”

  “I’m not attacking the Krishnas, Mary. I’m looking for a killer.”

  She nodded. “Drugs were always available.”

  “Thanks, Mary. And if you think of anything else—”

  “I’ll call you. Detective, I’d really like to help you. Honestly.”

  “I believe you.”

  He started to head out. She followed him. “Detective?”

  “Yes?”

  She hesitated. “I know how you’ve always felt…what you’ve always believed, that Peter might have been…somehow involved. But I don’t believe he ever slit a woman’s throat.”

  “Thanks, Mary. Actually, I never believed he carried out the murders himself. But he knows who did. I’m sure of it. And one way or another, I’m going to find out.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Nothing.

  Karen’s room was, like the rest of the house, as neat as a pin. Beneath the overhead lighting, the quilt was straight and even, the pillows leaned against the headboard, and everything appeared to be in perfect order.

  The thunderous pounding on the door continued, then stopped abruptly. Ashley turned away from the bed and started back through the house. At the door, she peered through the peephole. There was no one there. She bit her lower lip. She heard a sound, someone coming around the side of the house. Then silence…followed by a noise at the living room window. She drew the gun from her bag and walked to the front door, opening it.

  As she stepped out on the porch, someone came back around from the side of the house. “Stop right there!” she said.

  “Ashley?”

  She let out a rush of air and lowered the weapon. “Len? Len, what the hell are you doing, sneaking around the yard?”

  “Me? What the hell are you doing? It’s as if you’re determined to get off a shot at me tonight.” He walked toward her, shaking his head. “I pounded at the door. You didn’t answer. You got me worried about Karen, then you went to her house and didn’t answer when my pounding should have wakened the dead.”

  “I was in the other room, Len.”

  “Is anything out of order?” he asked.

  “No,” she said softly. “I don’t think so. I’m going to check around one more time.” She frowned. “How did you get here?”

  “Don’t give me that frown. I wasn’t drinking and driving. I made Sandy drop me off.”

  “Great, you had Sandy drinking and driving.”

  “No, he was drinking non-alcoholic beer tonight. Honest.”

  “But why did you have him bring you out here?”

  “I was worried about you coming out here alone.”

  “Len, don’t you get started. Are you going to worry about every female on the force?”

  “You’re not on the force. You’re a civilian employee. And you’re forgetting that officers are supposed to have backup when they might be facing a dangerous situation.”

  She believed that, in his way, he really was trying to help. “All right, come in for a few minutes. I just want to take one more walk through the place.”

  Len followed her back in. Ashley walked through the computer room and the bedroom one more time. She hesitated, realizing that she hadn’t checked out the bathroom off the master bedroom. She did so, aware that Len was right behind her.

  At first glance, the bathroom appeared to be as spotless as the rest of the house. As a last thought, she pulled back the shower curtain. The tile was as clean as everything else.

  Then she saw the little specks on the bottom of the tub. She knelt down. There were just three. Three little specks of something that looked like rust.

  Rust—or blood.

  Ashley’s heart careened into her throat. She told herself that they could be anything. They were tiny little specks. It wasn’t as if the bathroom had been sprayed with blood. She didn’t even know if it was blood. And if it was, the amount was minute. Karen might just have nicked herself while shaving.

  Still…

  She stood abruptly and walked into the kitchen. Rummaging in a cabinet, she found a box of plastic sandwich bags, then procured a white plastic knife from the drawer where Karen kept her picnic paraphernalia.

  “What is it?” Len asked her.

  “Probably nothing,” she said. But she walked past him and went back into the bathroom, then knelt down, scraped the speck from the tub and bagged it, along with the plastic knife. She slid the plastic bag into her purse and stood. Len was in the doorway, staring at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m probably just overreacting.”

  “But what are you doing?”

  “Just checking the tub.” He was so tall, she thought. His shoulders filled the doorway. Her imagination ran wild. What if Len were a killer? Cops did go bad.

  She had a .38 Special in her bag, and they both knew she could use it. “Let’s get out of here. Karen definitely isn’t home.”

  For a moment it seemed as if he would stay in the doorway. Stop her from exiting. Then he shook his head, moving aside. “I know you know your friend much better than I do, but I think you’re right about overreacting. I’m sure she’s all right. Even your best friend can have secrets.”

  “That’s possible, of course.”

  “Ashley, all she did was call in sick and not answer her phone.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. And I’ll try not to go off the deep end needlessly. I need some sleep,” she said. She waited for him to precede her out of the house. He hesitated, then did so.

  “I’ll take you home,” she told him.

  “No need. Curtis is waiting at Nick’s. He said he’d drop me off later.”

  “All right.”

  They drove in silence for a while. Then Len said, “Doesn’t she have other friends, besides you and Jan?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well then?”

  “You’re absolutely right. She must be out with someone else.”

  Ashley almost jumped when her phone rang. She dug into her purse and answered quickly. It was Jan.

  “Well?”

  “She wasn’t home, her car is in the drive, and the house is as neat as a pin.” And there were little specks of what might have been blood in her bathtub. She didn’t say that, though. There was no reason to alarm Jan further. Not until she actually knew what she had found.

  And she would know. Tomorrow morning, she would pour her heart out to Mandy Nightingale, who would help her. She hadn’t been under Mandy’s wing that long, but she knew the woman would listen to her and help her, not mock her. And in a pinch, there was always Jake.

  “Are you all right?” Jan asked anxiously. “I shouldn’t have let you go there alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone. I’m not alone.”

  “Oh?”

  “Len Green is with me.”

  “Oh, good. You’re with a cop.”

  A cop who might have turned bad. What the hell was she thinking, and why on earth should she be thinking it?

  “So what do we do now?” Jan asked.

  “See if she comes home tonight. And if we don’t hear from her tomorrow, we fill out a missing persons report. And get people who know what they’re doing in on it.”

  “She hasn’t even been gone twenty-four hours,” Len reminded her gently, interrupting the conversation.

  “We’ll both keep trying her tonight,” Ashley said, ignoring him. Jan agreed, and they hung up.

  A few minutes later, they reached Nick’s. Before Ashley turned off the engine, she said, “You’re certain you have a ride.”

  “Yep. Curtis and Sandy both thought it was a good idea if I went to check on you. Sandy was going out, so he dropped me, and Curtis promised to wait until we were back.”

  “Okay, I’m going to bed then.”

  They both got out, and Len looked at her o
ver the roof of the car. He saluted. “Good night, then. I’ll just go find Curtis.”

  She nodded, then felt ridiculous and guilty. “Len?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for coming after me.”

  “Sure. Keep me posted. I—I do like her, too, you know.”

  He walked around to the terrace entrance. Ashley let herself in by the side door. “Sharon?” she called, as she walked in. “Nick?”

  No one replied, and she didn’t want to go back through the bar to see if they were there. She went into her own room. This time, nothing had changed. She shook her head, still convinced that someone had been in there earlier. She flopped down on her bed, exhausted, though it wasn’t even that late. She and Jan might have been ridiculous, checking up on Karen so quickly. Still…there were those spots in the bathtub.

  Jake hadn’t even reached his car before his cell phone rang. He was surprised to hear Carnegie on the other end. “Jake, I just wanted to let you know I’m real glad you arranged for those off-duty guys to stand guard at the hospital.”

  “Has something else happened?” He felt more than a twinge of guilt. He had told Ashley that he would look into the case, but his own affairs had taken such precedence that he hadn’t even thought about the Stuart Fresia investigation since he’d handed the matter over to Marty.

  “Not really, but I decided to talk to that guy again, the one who was writing for the same paper Fresia was. Guess what I found out? He doesn’t exist.”

  “What do you mean, he doesn’t exist? I thought he was screaming louder than anyone that people needed to look into the accident, that Stuart Fresia had been on to something.”

  “Yes, that’s true. But when I went to call him today, the number he gave me was a pizza parlor. So I went to the paper, talked to personnel and got his social security number. Checked up on that, and it belonged to a guy killed in World War Two. I went back to the hospital, where he’d been hanging around like a leech. All of a sudden, he’s nowhere to be seen. What it means exactly, I don’t know. But I’ve got the department picking up the bill for round-the-clock protection. I just wanted to let you know.”