Dead Ringer (32 page)

The
added casualness in her voice triggered caution in his. "So we go back to
business as usual?"

"Why not?"

Annoyance
burned in him.
"Like nothing happened."

"If
that's what you want."

Normally
he was so guarded with his thoughts and feelings. But he sensed that if he
didn't reach out he'd lose something very valuable. "That's not what I want."

She
stared at him, but she didn't say anything.

He
tucked a curl behind her ear. "I want you.
And not just now.
But tomorrow.
And the next day."

She
let her gaze dip to his chest. She didn't speak. Then she raised her head and
kissed him on the lips. In that kiss he felt a wave of emotion and longing that
seared into him.

When
she broke the kiss they were both breathless. "I'm not so different from you. I
don't talk about feelings so well," she said.

"Old
dogs can learn new tricks."

"To
be honest, you scare me."

"Why?"

"I
like you."

"And
that's a bad thing?"

"I
have a tendency to back away when I start to like someone."

He
turned her on her back and cupped her chin. "That's something I'm also famous
for." He traced her lips with his fingertips.

"So
maybe we should cut our losses now."

He
shook his head. "Let's take it one day at a time. Keep talking to each other.
See where it takes us."

"Okay." She kissed him on the lips.

Relief didn't wash over him.
Nor a feeling that all
would be right with the world.
Whatever they had was fragile and they'd
have to tread carefully. Still, he decided then that she'd be worth the risk.

They made love a second time. This time they took their time exploring
each other's bodies. When the second orgasm shuddered through them, they fell
asleep nestled in each other's arms.

The banging on the closet door grew louder. "Let me in. I won't hurt
you, Eve."

The little girl huddled in the corner, clawing at the paneling, hoping
she could dissolve into the wall and never be seen.

"Eve, I won't hurt you." The knob twisted and the door started to open.

"Stop!"

Kendall sat up in bed, her body drenched in sweat. The room was dark.
Her heart raced in her chest.

"What's wrong?" Jacob's voice was clear and alert as if he'd been awake.

Kendall swallowed, shook her head trying to clear the image from her
mind.
"A dream."

He pulled her against him. "You're ice cold."

Cocooned in his arms, she could feel the fear abating faster than it
normally did. "I'm okay now."

"You said before that you'd been having dreams."

She'd only briefly mentioned the dreams in the parking lot last week.
"I'm surprised you remembered."

"I don't forget details when it comes to you." For a moment he simply
held her. "Tell me about it."

"It's the same every time. I'm in a closet. I'm just a child. And I hear
a woman's screams. Someone is trying to get into the closet." Her throat felt
dry. "At first I thought it was just a nightmare. Now, I think it really
happened before my adoption."

"All the more reason to find out where you came
from."

"The past scares me," she whispered. "I don't remember it but I sense
something terrible happened. And I think my mother knew what it was. I think
that's why she kept the adoption a secret. Mom has erased all traces of my past
and I don't think I'm ever going to find my birth family."

Jacob tightened his hold. "I'm very good at finding people. I'll help,
if you want."

It was the kindest thing anyone had ever offered. "You mean that?"

"Yeah.
We'll figure this out together."

The trunk of the car opened and Nicole drew back trying to press her
swollen body into the recesses. Her head still ached. "Leave me alone!"

A hooded, masked figure stood over her. "Shh. There's nothing to worry
about, Nicole. It's all right. I'm here to help."

"Then let me go."

"I can't do that. Not yet."

"You can't have my baby!"

"Shh. You worry too much. I would never separate a child from its
mother." The figure reached into the trunk and grabbed her.

She strained against the tight grip but she might as well have been
trying to break iron. "Let me go!"

He practically lifted her up with one arm and set her on the ground. Her
knees felt weak and her belly ached from the weight of the child. She was
exhausted, dehydrated, and barely able to stand on her own. She tried to wrench
free but got nowhere.

"Don't fight me. It's not good for the baby." His voice was so damn
calm. "Let me get you upstairs so you can rest."

She glanced past him through the darkness to a large white house. It was
old, practically falling apart.

"Did you kill Dana?"

"She wasn't very nice to you. She wanted to steal your baby." He started
to pull her toward the house.

She dug her heels into the frozen dirt. "No!"

"Yes." He jerked her hard this time and she stumbled forward.

Her belly contracted. "Please, I need to be in a hospital. I'm going
into labor."

"Ah, that's a wonderful thing, Nicole. I can't wait to see the baby." He
half pulled, half carried her up the front steps of the house and through the
front door. "I hear it's a girl. Perfect."

Panic swelled inside Nicole as she stared around the darkened foyer. The
place smelled of mold and rot. At the top of the staircase was a light. "I
can't have my baby here. I can't!"

"Yes, you can. This house has seen the birth of many babies."

Tears welled in her eyes and she pulled against him as they started up
the stairs. "Let me go!" She started to scream.

"No one can hear you."

She screamed louder.

He didn't respond until she'd exhausted her lungful of breath. "That's
not good for you or the baby. You have to stay calm." He pulled her toward a
door and pushed it open with his booted foot.

The well-lit room stood in stark contrast to the rest of the house. The
room was decorated for a little girl, complete with pink walls and carpet and a
white poster bed filled with stuffed animals.

"We're here," he said.

Terror slid down Nicole's spine. "Don't leave me here."

Dark eyes stared at her from behind the mask. He pushed her into the
room and quickly slammed the door behind her. He locked it.

Nicole ran to the door and started to pound on it.

"Don't worry, Nicole," the man said. "Don't worry. The baby will be here
soon and we'll be a family."

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"Soon you will see."

His footsteps faded as he walked away.

Nicole cupped her hand over her belly as tears fell down her face. She
pounded on the door until her hands hurt. Exhausted, she leaned her back into
the door and slid to the floor.

Tuesday, January 22, 7:00
A.M.

Jacob's scent still clung to Kendall's skin as she closed her front door
and watched him stride toward his car. He moved with purpose.
Direction.
He opened his car door and paused. He glanced
back at the house, his expression stern. His gaze met hers and his face
softened. He nodded toward her before sliding behind the wheel of his car and
driving off.

Kendall smiled. She didn't feel alone. And she believed in him.

Kendall went to Nicole's bedroom door. She'd not heard Nicole come in
last night. But assumed she had. Softly, she knocked on the door. There was no
answer. No wonder. Nicole had to be exhausted. She kept brutal hours lately.
Kendall understood the need for work. A busy mind kept dark thoughts at bay.

Slowly she turned the handle and pushed open the door, expecting to see Nicole
curled up in her bed. But the bed was empty, neatly made, as if it had not been
slept in.

Kendall frowned and moved into the room. She peeked in Nicole's bathroom
to make sure she wasn't dressing. The bathroom was neat, untouched, like the
bedroom. "She couldn't have worked all night."

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.