Indelible (36 page)

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Authors: Kristen Heitzmann

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Christian, #Thrillers

BOOK: Indelible
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“Too soon to tell. But you should prepare yourselves.” The doctor started each sequence as though unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Head injuries are complicated.”

“But she’s okay,” Trevor said.

“She’s holding on.”

“Can we see her?”

“Maybe tomorrow. We got her through the golden hour, but we’ll be watching closely overnight. She’s not out of this yet.” He gave them a nod and walked away.

Aaron lowered his chin when the surgeon left.
“My God.”

“She’s not a quitter.”

“I know that.” The man’s throat worked as tears welled. “My baby sister is a pit bull all wrapped up in such a soft touch you’d think her a kitten.”

The Natalie they knew. TBI changed things. Like a belligerent stranger taking residence inside a loved one’s head.

Aaron looked up. “You want to see her when we can?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“As long as she wants it too.”

The crime-scene tape drew a larger crowd the next morning than Natalie’s grand opening. Squinting in the overbright sunlight, Jonah frowned at the locals and visitors pressing in. Word had spread and more were arriving as he stood there. He might as well sell tickets and hot dogs.

Jazmyn Dufoe hollered to him, and he raised the tape to give her his obligatory statement. Yes, Natalie had been assaulted. He didn’t know her condition. He had no suspect, but he’d seen someone fleeing the scene. He withheld the description of the costume—if that’s what it was. “We’re processing evidence. The state authorities are assisting.”

“Is Natalie all right?” The concern in Jazmyn’s face seemed authentic.

“I don’t know.”

She chewed her cuticle. “Is she alive?”

He hesitated. “She was when we flew her out. That’s all I know.”

“Is it the same one who abducted Michaela?”

“I can’t speculate.”

“Is there anything to connect the two? Should the women in town do things to protect themselves?”

“People should always be aware.” Too many times it wasn’t enough. “I understand you received some odd mail.”

She looked startled. “What about it?’

“You wouldn’t have the original envelope and art, would you?”

“Of course I do. I told Trevor he ought to show all that to you.”

“He has.”

“Is this about that?” Her face formed a hawkish sharpness.

“I don’t know if it is or not, but I’d like that evidence for testing, if you can get it to me.”

“I’ll get it now if you tell any other print reporters, ‘No comment.’ ”

She always gave it her best try. “Hurry back.”

She opened her mouth to push her point, then closed it. He was already turning to the next thing.

“Jonah?”

Fleur’s voice reached him from the crowd. He changed course and allowed her under the tape just far enough that they could speak with relative privacy. He didn’t want to alarm her, but if Natalie had been targeted, Fleur might also.

“Please tell me she’s okay.”

“I don’t know. She has a head injury. It could be severe.”

“What happened?”

“Someone struck her.”

She moaned softly. “Why?”

Jonah shook his head, then realized she couldn’t see him. “I don’t know, Fleur. But stay away from the gallery, okay? It won’t be accessible until it’s processed and released, but I’d rather you kept some distance.”

“What about the faces?”

“What faces?”

“Natalie’s sculptures.”

“Her art—”

“Not the nature pieces in front,” she said, “but the models in back. She didn’t want them seen.”

“Everything in there is evidence, Fleur. And I need to get back to it.” He jutted his chin to Newly, who was watching from his post on crowd control.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“Can you take Fleur home?” Then to her he added, “Will you let the other gal know, the older woman?”

“Lena,” Fleur said.

“That’s the one.”

Seeing she was in good hands, Jonah joined Moser inside. He had secured the scene last night, awaiting the state investigators who’d arrived an hour ago. No doubt they knew their job, but he did not intend to miss one detail himself. Slipping on his gloves, he passed through the gallery that still smelled of iron-rich blood, replaying what he’d seen the day before.

The subject had fled, but not before defacing—literally—the model of himself. Jonah passed into the studio and found two of the techs murmuring. No wonder. They’d pulled the coverings off several of the busts. It was like an old-fashioned waxworks with likenesses of people more real and revealing than their personas.

Jonah looked from one to the next. People he knew, people he didn’t, and according to Trevor MacDaniel, people Natalie may have seen only
once. With insight like that, she could have threatened any one of them. He tapped his fingers on the huge slab of Corian that formed her work surface. This search might not be as narrow as he’d thought.

In the crush of curiosity, Fleur touched Seth Newly’s arm, hoping what she’d sensed in him before would help her now. “Seth, will you do something for me?”

“Sure.”

“One of the sculptures in the studio is mine.”

“You mean the gallery?”

“No. In the back where she works. There are busts.”

“She made one of you?”

“Next to the one Natalie sculpted of me is my own version. Will you get it for me?”

“Everything in there is evidence.”

“Please. It’s extremely personal.” It was trivial for her to think of, but the idea of anyone seeing it didn’t feel trivial. She heard him scratching his head, felt his doubt.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t remove anything from a crime scene.”

“It has nothing to do with her attack. Please, Seth. Natalie keeps it covered on the board with hers. Where you see her version, take the covered one beside it.”

His hesitation hung over them like a fog, his feet sinking slowly in quicksand. She had felt something more than his face that last time, but could it rival his allegiance to his leader, the chief who’d carried him through the flames?

He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. Don’t leave this spot.”

She stood arm in arm with palsied Mary Carson whom she’d called when she couldn’t reach Natalie on her home or cell phone. Retired and widowed, Mary regularly drove her where she needed to go, and they’d come to the gallery, never guessing this.

“Redford used to be such a safe place. Our little haven tucked away from the troubles of the world.” Not receiving an answer, Mary asked, “Are you all right, Fleur?”

She told Mary yes, but she wasn’t. Only two things would help. For Natalie to be all right, and Officer Newly to come through for her.

“Um, Chief?”

Jonah turned to Newly, whom he’d instructed to get Fleur out of there.

“I need a word.”

“Quickly.”

Newly lowered his voice. “Fleur needs one of these heads. She made it and it’s personal.”

Jonah frowned. “It’s part of evidence now.”

“Can’t we make an exception?”

“If Natalie doesn’t survive, this is a homicide. I’m not compromising the crime scene.”

“But, Chief. Just look, okay?”

Jonah went with him to a beautiful likeness of Fleur that captured an exquisite longing, anticipation, and courage.

“That’s the one Natalie made. It’s this one Fleur needs.” He reached for the covered shape beside it.

“Newly, I’m warning you.”

When Newly lifted the cloth, they both stared. Jonah shot a quick look at his officer, understanding immediately why Fleur wouldn’t want it seen. The hollows where her eyes should be gaped at them like dark pits of pain. He glanced over his shoulder. The techs were photographing and logging the busts. He’d called them in himself, knowing this case as big as anything Redford had seen.

“There needs to be a chain of evidence.”

“Sure, I know.”

“You will take personal responsibility for this piece.”

“Right, Chief.”

“Go out the back.” He shot him a look that conveyed more than his words. Newly would see to its safety—or pay the consequences.

“I’ll take you home now, Ms. Destry.”

She smelled the sweat working through his cologne. She had stressed him out. “Thank you, Officer.”

The sleeve of his jacket felt stiff under her fingers. Then his hand directed her into the seat of his cruiser. As soon as both doors closed them in, she said, “Seth?”

“Nothing can happen to it. I still have to log it in as belonging to the scene.”

“I’ll keep it safe.”

“It technically should be me.”

“Please. I don’t want anyone to see it.”

She heard him swallow.

“You already did.”

“I had to convince the chief.”

“He saw it too?”

“But no one else. It would have gone to the state lab and been photographed and recorded.”

She drew a ragged breath. “I never should have made it.”

“Please don’t be upset.”

She couldn’t help it. As Natalie said, the model reflected the wound in her soul.

“It was the only way to convince him.”

“I understand.” But it didn’t help.

“It just shows how it is being blind. And it’s a whole lot better than any sculpting I did.”

She laughed grimly. “I wasn’t going for an award. I was expressing …”
How I see myself
. “It was Natalie’s idea. Because I feel faces, she thought maybe I could form them.”

“If I let you take it home, you have to leave it alone. The chief’ll have my hide if anything happens.”

“I’ll leave it. Thank you.”

“The chief’s a good guy. I guess he understood.”

Probably more than Officer Newly.

He parked and said, “I’ll carry it in to where you want and put the
location in my notes.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not protocol, but as close as I can get.”

She heard his concern. “You’re very kind.”

“The chief’s more about taking care of people than going by the book, so he might not chew me out too bad.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice.” She smiled, realizing how much she did. They passed through the kitchen to the sun porch where even the autumn rays had increased the temperature. She’d be able to spray the covering cloth when she misted the ferns. “Is there space on the shelf here?”

“Sure. I can fit it between these ferns.”

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