Dead Ringer (28 page)

"Yes.
But think back. You know me from before."

Before
.
Initially, she didn't understand. And then, as
if a curtain had been lifted, she knew who he was. "Allen," she said softly.

Smiling,
he nodded. "Yes."

Memories
she'd long buried deep in her mind clawed their way to the front of her mind.
Time had changed him. He'd filled out and grown stronger. If she'd not been
looking directly into his eyes she'd never have recognized him. "You disgust
me."

He
winced. "Forgive me."

"No."
It was the one thing he wanted from her and it would be the last thing she
would give him. "You've taken so much from me."

His
eyes filled with unshed tears. "I've not come to take any more. I've come to
bring you home, Rachel."

"Rachel."
She'd not heard the name in so long. "Don't call me that."

"It's
your name."

"It
was
my name. You stole it from me." Years of anger welled inside her.
She had no desire to beg or plead with the man she hated so much. "And home.
How can you take me home when you destroyed my home?" She twisted her bound
wrists, wishing she could pummel him with her fists.

He
laid his hand on her knee. "That's my fault and I'm sorry."

"Don't
touch me." Bitterness twisted her heart. Long ago, he had ripped her life
apart. "I hate you."

Allen
flinched as if she'd struck him. "You don't mean that. We're family."

"Family.
You sick bastard, you have no idea what family
means." Provoking him was foolish and dangerous. But she didn't seem to care,
as if the demons that had stalked her for so long drove her actions now.

Allen
rose to his feet, his fists clenched. "Rachel, you just don't understand."

She
craned her neck as he walked behind her. She saw him pull something from his
pocket. It sparkled in the light. When he moved close behind her she flinched.
She braced for an attack. Instead, he laid a gold necklace and charm around her
neck. The metal felt cold against her skin.

"Do
you like it?"

Unexpected
relief washed over her. She'd tried to provoke him but was now grateful he'd
not attacked her. Still, she couldn't bring herself to show him any kindness.
"No."

He
leaned forward until his lips were close to her ear. His hot breath brushed her
skin and sent terror rocketing through her body. "You haven't even looked at
it, Rachel."

"My
name is Amanda."

"It's
Rachel."

She
kept her gaze ahead, shoving back the fear that tightened her skin and made her
heart race. For years she'd wished she could go back to the life she'd known as
Rachel. Now, she hated the sound of the name.
"Asshole."

Long
fingers wrapped around her neck. "You shouldn't talk to me like that." His grip
tightened.

Quickly,
her breathing grew labored. She didn't want to die but knew there was no
avoiding it. In some ways she'd known this day was going to come. She'd always
thought she'd die young.

He
squeezed hard.

Blood
pounded in her temples and her body screamed for oxygen. Choking, she was aware
of a clock ticking.
Of life seeping from her body.
The
details in the room blurred into a pink haze and then nothing.

"I'm
sorry," he whispered.

Then
he kissed her on the cheek and began to cry.

Sunday, January 20, 9:15
A.M.

"Warwick."
Jacob barked his name into the cell phone. He'd just returned from a run and
his body was covered in sweat.

"It's
Vega. We've got another victim.
A woman.
Strangled."

"Shit."
He dropped his forehead to his hand and leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Where?"

Vega
gave the address. It was an office park near the Goochland County line. "And
she's wearing a charm. This one reads
Rachel
."

"Rachel.
Another biblical name."

"The mother of Joseph.
You
know,
the one with a coat of many colors."

"I'll
take your word for it." Jacob frowned. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

He
dialed Zack's number. Zack's wife, Lindsay, picked up on the fifth ring.
"Hello?"

"Lindsay.
Is Zack there?"

"Hey, Jacob.
He's in the shower."

"Get
him out." His tone told her this wasn't a social call.

"Sure thing."

Nearly
a minute later, he heard, "What's up?"

"Another body."
Jacob relayed the stats and the two agreed
that Jacob would pick Zack up in twenty minutes.

Jacob
showered quickly, dressed, and headed down the flight of apartment stairs to
the first floor. He backed out of his parking space, pulled into Sunday morning
church traffic, and headed west. Within a half hour he and Zack arrived at the
murder scene.

A
half dozen squad cars and the large white forensics van were parked in front of
the low-lying office building. Most of the buildings in this wooded office park
were covered in brick and glass. Jacob parked his car and both men hung their
badges around their necks on lanyards. The uniforms nodded as the two
detectives ducked under yellow crime scene tape and moved around to the back of
the building.

Bitter
cold air whipped around the corner of the building, bringing with it the sick
smell of death. Tess stood inside red tape that she'd used to mark off the
crime scene area. The red tape was her signal that no one but forensics entered
the area. The flash of her digital camera popped repeatedly. "Shoot your way in
and out of a scene," she always said.

Jacob
kept a respectful distance. She needed to do her job, and if they were lucky
they could pretend Friday night had never happened and they could get back to
the friendship they'd had.

His
number one question right now was,
What
did the victim
look like? Tess blocked his view of the body's face. Tension tightened the
muscles in his back. He didn't want the victim to look like the other two
victims. He didn't want her to look like Kendall.

Zack
slid his hands into his pockets. "The shit's gonna hit the fan when this gets
out."

"I
know." Jacob tore his gaze from the scene. "I need to find out who found this
body." It took only a few questions to the uniformed officers to discover that
a Jeff McNamara had found it. He was the CEO of JN Civil Engineering and he'd
come in to catch up on work. He'd looked out his office window and seen the
woman.

Immediately,
he'd called 911. McNamara was a bookish guy with thinning blond hair and a
lean, slightly stooped build. The discovery of the body had really rattled him,
but he'd done his best to recount what he knew to the officers, which wasn't
much.

Jacob
and Zack did a search of the surrounding office buildings and discovered they
were all closed for the weekend. If McNamara hadn't come in, the body likely
wouldn't have been found until tomorrow.

Zack
pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and offered it to Jacob. When Jacob
declined he unwraped it and popped it in his mouth. "Tess," he called out.

She
came over to them, careful to keep her expression neutral when her gaze jumped
between the two of them. "The bruising on her neck indicates that she was
strangled."

Jacob
steeled himself. "What does the victim look like?"

Tess
stared at Jacob. "Have a look for yourself." She stepped aside.

Jacob
had his first good view of the body. She was blond.
Petite.

"She
doesn't look like the others," Tess said. "Or like Kendall Shaw."

Kendall
had been up most of the night. This time she'd stayed up intentionally. She'd
been searching the Internet for any kind of old news story that would tell her
about the woman in her dreams. If a violent crime had occurred, chances were
the story had been covered.

She
had scant details.
Twenty-five or so years ago.
Two small children.
A woman with dark
hair.
Screaming.
She had no location or manner
of death. And not surprisingly, none of her searches had revealed anything.

Nicole's
plodding footsteps sounded in the hallway and she appeared in the doorway. She
wore
a pink empire top, maternity jeans
, and her dark
hair back in clips. Her stomach looked more pronounced and low. The baby would
be here soon--a week or two at the most.

"Are
you working on a story?"

Kendall
brushed bangs off her face with the back of her hand. "Yes. When I get a lead
in my head I can't sleep."

"No
bad dreams?"

"None."
For the first time in a long while, she felt
as if she was gaining a little control. She'd scheduled another appointment
with Dr. Christopher for Monday so she could be hypnotized again. The more
details she got, the faster her search would go.

"Do
you ever stop moving?"

Kendall
shook her head. "Not often." She'd barely gotten the words out when the
doorbell rang. "Damn."

Nicole
smiled. "That's probably Todd. He has tile samples."

Kendall
had forgotten. "That's right. He said something about a supply problem with the
tiles the designer had picked." The redesign had seemed so important last week
and now she was sorry she'd jumped into the project. She didn't need the interruption
right now.

"I'll
get the door," Nicole said.

"Thanks."
Grateful, she turned back to the screen. She heard voices downstairs but
ignored them.

Seconds
later Nicole reappeared, Brett following close behind. He was dressed in a
sleek overcoat, a dark turtleneck sweater, and ironed jeans that topped
polished Italian loafers.

He
frowned when he saw her. "How soon can you be dressed and ready to leave?"

She
minimized the computer screen. "Why?"

He
glanced at Nicole as if he didn't want to speak in front of her.

Kendall's
annoyance took root. "Go ahead, Brett. She can keep a secret."

Nicole
smiled and stood her ground. Nicole had said more than once to Kendall that she
didn't like Brett. She'd remain now just to irritate him.

Brett
frowned. "There's been another murder."

Kendall
felt sick. "
What?
"

"I
don't have all the details, but I've got a friend who works in the office park
where the woman's body was found. She called me about thirty minutes ago. The
cops are trying to keep a lid on this one."

Nicole
crossed her arms over her belly. "Go ahead. I can talk to Todd about the tile."

"You
have good taste and you know what I like. Just pick what you think is best."

"Will do."

As
Kendall moved toward the door, she realized her hands trembled slightly.
God, another woman dead.
"What can you tell me about the
victim?"

"No name or background--yet."

She
was headed to her room, already mentally cataloguing the details she had on the
last murders.
"Right.
Give me twenty, and I'll be
downstairs and ready to go."

Kendall
jumped into the hot shower and washed the sweat from her body. She skipped leg
shaving and hair washing, knowing she could hide one and work around the other.
Out of the shower, she toweled off, pulled her hair into a French twist, and
applied her makeup. She dressed in a white silk blouse, dark pants, and
high-heeled boots. She was downstairs in seventeen minutes.

Brett
sat on the sofa in the living room. Nicole stood by the fireplace.

"Let's
go," Kendall said. She dug her coat out of the front closet and grabbed her
purse.

Brett
looked stunned by her transformation. "Now that is the Kendall I know and love.
Very nice."

His
compliment irritated her. "I'll follow you."

"Better
ride with me. It'll save time. I want Channel Ten to have the scoop on this
one."

He
was right. Traveling with him was more time efficient. But she didn't like it.
"Okay."

Brett
opened the door to his sleek, black Audi and she slid into the seat. He got
behind the wheel and fired up the engine. His eyes gleamed. "The cops are gonna
be pissed when we show."

"They'd
expect media."

"Yeah.
But not this soon.
They're only about an hour ahead of us."

"How'd
you hear about the story?"

"Got a text message.
A tip."

"Who?"
Last time she'd received the tip. She wondered
if the informant was the same person.

"Don't
know. Don't care."

Thick
aftershave coiled around her. "Why do you look so happy about this?"

He
showed no hint of apology. "Nothing would make me happier than to rattle
Detective Warwick's cage. I didn't appreciate his insinuations the other day."

"He
was doing his job.
Just like we are."

His
grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Yeah, well some cops take the authority
thing too far, if you ask me."

"Maybe some.
But not him."

Brett
shot her a glance. "It sounds like you like the guy."

She
did.
A lot.
But that was the last thing Brett needed
to hear. "He saved my life last summer. I'd have bled to death if not for him."

That
mollified Brett a fraction. "Just don't go soft on him. I want you to attack
this story. This story will go national now that there are three victims, and I
want
Ten
to get the credit."

She
wanted to report the story because the murdered women deserved to have their
stories told.
They
deserved to be heard, to be remembered, and to have
justice. Fame or the need for publicity did not drive her on this case.

Fifteen
minutes later they pulled onto the office development's main road. They had
wound down the neatly manicured road about a half mile when they spotted the
flashing blue lights of the police squad cars. Brett parked in the lot of a
midrise building a hundred yards from the crime zone. The Channel 10 truck with
Mike behind the wheel arrived seconds behind them and parked near Brett's car.

Kendall
got out and braced herself against the cold. She was anxious to find out more
about the victim. She spoke briefly to Mike and they crossed the lot and a
grassy patch of land to the next parking lot, where crime scene tape held back
the growing crowd, made up mostly of morning joggers and contentious
professionals anxious to get to their offices.

The
crime scene appeared to be extended far beyond the norm, and try as she might
she couldn't see past the collection of officers or around the low brick
building where she guessed the body was found.

It
took only a few minutes of questioning the crowd to discover who had found the
body. When she spotted the man, standing by the tape smoking a cigarette, she
went directly to him.

Kendall
held out her hand. "Hi, my name is Kendall Shaw. Could I ask you a few
questions?"

The
man looked nervous as he puffed on the nearly spent cigarette.
"Yeah, sure."

"And
your name is?"

His
face was pale.
"Oh, yeah, sorry.
Jeff McNamara. I'm a
little rattled."

"I
would be too if I found a body. Can we get you a soda or a coffee?"

He
dropped the remnants of the cigarette to the ground and crushed the glowing tip
with his tennis shoe. "No. No. I'm fine."

"Jeff,
what were you doing here so early on a Sunday?"

"Catching up on work."
He laughed nervously. "No good deed
goes unpunished, right?"

She
flashed a practiced smile. "Tell me about it." She didn't want to sound too
anxious but her nerves were wound tight. "Jeff, can you tell me what the victim
looked like?"