Closer Than You Think (74 page)

Her eyes widened as his erection swelled, pressing against her thigh. ‘We should go back to sleep. But I’m suddenly not very tired.’

He smiled down at her. ‘How might we get tired then?’

She’d straddled him before he could blink. ‘I’ve got an idea or two.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cincinnati, Ohio, Thursday 6 November, 8.30
A.M.

‘Good morning, Faith,’ Isenberg said with a scowl. ‘Where is Agent Novak?’

Her heart sinking, Faith set her laptop case on Deacon’s desk. ‘He went downstairs to get coffee and Danish.’ Because when they’d woken up again, they’d foregone breakfast for ‘just once more’ in the warmth of their borrowed bed in the safe house. But now Faith was debating the wisdom of having taken the time for themselves. ‘What’s happened? Is it bad news on Roza?’

Isenberg’s scowl relaxed into a slight frown. ‘No. It’s nothing like that. Come with me.’

Faith followed her into the conference room and abruptly stopped. The table was completely covered with boxes, three high. More boxes were stacked against the wall, floor to ceiling.

‘These were delivered this morning,’ Isenberg said. ‘From Henson and Henson.’

Faith did a visual count. ‘These are the Foundation files. Mrs Lowell said there were a lot, but . . . wow. They’re labeled by date and . . . mercy, she’s indexed all the applications in each box. She must have been up all night with this.’

‘You gotta love an organized woman like that,’ Bishop said from behind them. She went straight to the bulletin board, a large folder under one arm. ‘Or this. Somebody’s been busy.’

Isenberg shrugged. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night. I have another press conference today and I wanted a visual that viewers would remember.’

Curious, Faith walked up behind them to see the board for herself. ‘Oh,’ she said softly. Isenberg had posted photographs of every one of the victims they’d identified to date – and most were happy, smiling candid shots, not drivers’ license photos. ‘How did you get the pictures?’

‘From their missing persons files. Sometimes the families include informal photos.’

‘So Mrs Lowell wasn’t the only one searching through dusty files all night,’ Faith said. ‘It’s a lovely memorial, Lieutenant. It shows what he took away. Not just names, but people.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ Isenberg cleared her throat. ‘I need a few more photos, Scarlett. Specifically one of Roza. Did you get anything from that sketch artist yesterday?’

Bishop held up the folder. ‘I did. I went by the hospital this morning to get Corinne’s opinion on the sketch since she’d had so much more time with Roza. She said it was spot on. I also got a sketch of the mystery lady from Maguire and Sons. It’s a good bit more vague. The receptionist in the office next door only got a glimpse of her, several months ago.’

‘If it’s all we’ve got, I’ll go with it.’

Bishop posted Roza’s sketch and Faith was unprepared for the emotion that hit her like a brick. The child had a gaunt face and big dark eyes filled with desperation.

‘She’s terrified,’ Faith whispered. ‘And why wouldn’t she be? She lived in my basement her whole damn life and I never did anything about it.’

Bishop met Faith’s eyes, her own stern. ‘If you’d known, you would have saved her. Roza was brave in that basement. She saved Arianna’s life. She was brave in the forest, even though she’d never been outside. She’ll hold on until we find her. Don’t discount her.’

Faith nodded. She turned to the boxes, knowing exactly which file she needed first. Jade Kendrick, Roza’s aunt. Thanks to Mrs Lowell’s efforts, she located the box in less than a minute. Another minute later, she had Jade’s file in her hand.

‘This is the application file for Roza’s aunt,’ she said, walking it over to the bulletin board. She opened the folder and blinked in surprise. ‘Twins. They were twins.’

Cincinnati, Ohio, Thursday 6 November, 8.45
A.M.

‘Who were twins?’ Deacon asked, walking into the conference room with a tray filled with cups of coffee and pastries. ‘What happened to the table?’

‘Foundation scholarship application files,’ Bishop said. She shoved a stack of boxes over far enough for Deacon to put his tray down.

‘This must be Roza,’ he said, looking up at the board.

Bishop’s smile was sadly lopsided. ‘With a zed.’

‘Because her mother was from Vancouver,’ Faith said, her tone odd.

‘What do you have, Faith?’ Bishop asked.

She didn’t look up, continuing to stare at the page before her. ‘The lieutenant told me yesterday that Roza’s real name was Firoza, that her mother was Amethyst Johnson, that her mother and aunt were taken at the same time, and that both were now dead. We didn’t find any Amethysts on the list, but we did find a Jade.’

‘Firoza is a kind of turquoise,’ Isenberg explained. ‘Faith looked at gemstone names.’

‘Smart,’ Bishop said, taking a bite of Danish. ‘So that’s Jade’s file?’

‘Yes,’ Faith said. ‘The Foundation awarded Jade Kendrick a full scholarship to an art college in Chicago.’

‘Crandall tracked down Jade’s missing person report yesterday,’ Isenberg explained. ‘She disappeared from the college, along with her pregnant sister Amethyst, who was visiting her from Vancouver.’

‘The Foundation’s file says that Jade was diagnosed with a rare leukemia,’ Faith said, ‘the same type that killed Joy, but that Jade underwent treatment and was considered cured.’

‘All that, only to be killed by a sadist,’ Deacon muttered.

‘Maybe not,’ Faith said, taking out the photograph that was paperclipped to the file. ‘The back says “Jade and Amy, 2001”. Look familiar, Detective Bishop?’

‘Holy shit!’ Bishop set down her coffee and grabbed the photo. ‘It’s her. Maguire’s mystery lady.’ She held the photo next to the artist’s sketch. ‘I think that’ll do you better in your press conference, Lynda. Let’s get the BOLO out right now.’

Deacon froze.
No way. No fucking way.
He snatched the photo from Bishop’s hands. ‘We don’t need a BOLO. I’ve seen this woman. Tuesday morning. She called herself Mary.’ He caught Faith’s gaze, held it. ‘This is Jordan’s housekeeper.’

The color drained from her face. ‘No.’

Deacon pulled out a chair and gently pushed her into it. ‘I’m sorry, honey.’

She shook her head. ‘This is not possible. He couldn’t have killed all those women. He couldn’t have tried to kill me. He’s not even the right size. The man who came through my window was big. The size of Combs. And the man who shot at us from the hotel room across the street was big too. He was on the camera. You said so. This can’t be right.’

He crouched beside her chair. ‘But the man who took Roza matched your uncles’ build.’

‘Stone and Marcus switched places to fool Stone’s Fed tail,’ Bishop added. ‘Marcus is probably forty pounds lighter, but wore a padded coat. From a distance he passed for Stone. Your uncle might have done the same.’

Deacon let Faith recover from the initial shock, knowing her denial would be short-lived in the face of facts. It took her less time than he’d expected, confirming that she’d suspected this herself. She was just unable to believe it to be true.

‘Arianna said he was soft when she tried to hit him,’ Faith whispered.

‘You’re right,’ he said softly. ‘I’d forgotten that.’

‘And if he was wearing a padded suit, he might move stiffly. Like a Michelin man. Or a robot, like Combs’s girlfriend said.’ Tears filled her green eyes, streaked down her pale face. ‘Why didn’t Jade tell my grandmother? She was alone with Gran a lot of the time, taking care of her. Gran would have helped her.’

‘He had Roza,’ Deacon said. ‘Jordan kept Jade in line with threats to Roza.’

‘That’s why he never let Roza’s mother say goodbye to her “dead sister”,’ Bishop said angrily. ‘He didn’t kill her. He’s been holding her hostage in plain sight.’

‘You’ve never seen her, Faith?’ Isenberg asked. ‘Not in all your visits?’

‘No. Whenever I came to visit, Jordan gave her time off. I used her bedroom.’

‘Then where did he put Jade?’ Deacon asked.

Faith shook her head, bewildered. ‘In the basement?’

‘Then Roza might have seen her,’ Deacon said. He thought of the pink genie. ‘Maybe he kept her in the apartment over the art gallery. Maybe he has Roza there right now. We’ve got plenty enough for a warrant.’

‘I’ll get it moving,’ Bishop said. ‘We’ll turn his place upside down until we find some sign of where he’s holding Roza.’

‘We put unmarked cars outside both his townhouse and gallery yesterday,’ Deacon said, coming to his feet to join Bishop in the planning. ‘Jade is still inside the townhouse and Jordan didn’t come home last night. He didn’t go to work either, but add the gallery to the warrant.’

They took a few minutes to set up the logistics, and when Deacon turned back to Faith, she was standing in front of the bulletin board, frowning ‘What is this list?’ she asked.

‘A list of diseases that can cause a man not to ejaculate sperm,’ he said. ‘Arianna’s rape kit was negative for fluids, even though he didn’t use a condom.’

‘I remember,’ she murmured. ‘Arianna was worried by that.’ She pointed to the second item on the list. ‘Testicular cancer. That’s what Jordan had when he was seventeen.’

‘I assumed he had leukemia,’ Deacon said.

‘That was Joy. Jordan’s was different.’ She frowned. ‘I remember a conversation between my parents, how my mother was complaining about Jordan, that her mother spoiled him so much. Which she did. Gran never held Jordan accountable for anything, but if the rest of us screwed up . . . watch out. Anyway, my dad said Gran felt guilty for causing Jordan’s cancer.’

‘How?’ Bishop asked. ‘That’s not a cancer that’s caused by anything, is it?’

‘I don’t know. I can call my father and ask.’ She turned to the victims’ photographs, one arm pressed against her stomach like it hurt. With the other hand she pointed to the photo of a smiling blonde. ‘Melinda Hooper was reported missing the day after Tobias’s will was read.’

Deacon glanced at Bishop. ‘The day your mother died,’ he said carefully.

‘Yes.’ She drew a breath. ‘To answer your question, Detective Bishop, there wasn’t a chair. But my mother’s toes didn’t touch the floor when she was swinging. How did she do that without a chair?’

‘What do you think, Faith?’ Bishop asked softly.

Deacon held his breath as Faith continued to stare at Melinda Hooper’s photo. ‘I think that it’s one hell of a coincidence that Melinda was in the basement being tortured on the same day that my mother hanged herself from the ceiling.’ She looked from Deacon to Bishop. ‘You already thought of this, didn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Deacon said. ‘You’d covered a lot of memories last night. We figured this could wait until you’d had some rest and time to process.’

‘I’m processing now,’ she murmured. ‘Jeremy was standing there holding the rope. When I started to scream, he let the rope go and grabbed me. Covered my mouth and nose with his hand. What if my mother saw him killing this woman? What if he killed her to keep her from telling anyone?’

‘We don’t think you’re wrong,’ Bishop said. ‘Someone keeps trying to kill you. Like he wants to silence you before you remember or before you connect all the dots.’

‘Well they are well and truly connected now,’ she said, a hint of hysteria in her voice. ‘What can I do? How can I know?’

Deacon smoothed his hand down her hair, hoping to calm her. To take the sting out of what he was going to say. ‘We can exhume your mother’s body. We’d need your permission. But we can probably confirm how she died.’

She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly those of a child. ‘She didn’t leave me,’ she whispered, his suggestion of an exhumation ignored. She was nine years old again and had to process twenty-three years of life seen through a faulty lens. They’d come back to the present soon enough.

‘No, I don’t think she did,’ he whispered back.

‘Oh my God.’ The words were nearly inaudible, her breath coming in shallow huffs. Her voice breaking. ‘All these years I’ve hated her. But she didn’t leave me. She was the victim. All these years I didn’t say a word and he got away with it.’ She looked away as a quiet sob broke free. ‘He stole my mother from me. He broke my father’s heart and he got away with it.’ Her chin jerked up and she met Deacon’s eyes, hers fierce with fury. ‘
He got away with it
. And then he killed so many more.’ Angry tears rolled down her cheeks.

Bishop put a tissue in Faith’s hand. ‘We need your help now, Faith. As hard as it is, you’re going to have to focus for us for a little while. Can you do that?’

Faith dried her cheeks, nodding unsteadily. ‘Yes.’ Carefully she lowered herself into a chair. ‘You want to exhume my mother’s body. Can I do that without telling my father?’

‘Do you have his power of attorney?’ Bishop asked.

‘I do, since his stroke. So does Lily. But . . .’ She hesitated. ‘Can they even tell anything at this point? The body was . . . badly burned. I saw the photos. I’ll never forget it.’

Deacon gritted his teeth. ‘Who showed you the photo of the accident, Faith?’

Her shoulders sagged further. ‘Jordan. He wanted me to see that no one would ever know that she’d killed herself. He lied to me. Of course he lied to me. He’s a killer. Deacon, I let them do that to her. I let them take her away and put her in a car and burn her up.’

‘You were a child, Faith. Nine years old. You didn’t let him do anything.’

She shook her head hard. ‘
Them
. It was
both
of them that day. Jeremy
and
Jordan.’

Deacon sighed. ‘I don’t think so, honey. Stone said he remembered the day of the reading of your grandfather’s will. He remembered Jeremy coming home devastated because he’d been accused of molesting you by your father and your mother let it happen. Stone said that the next day they went to Kings Island all day – the four of them: Jeremy, his ex-wife, Stone and Marcus.’

‘Stone’s lying. Or mistaken. I saw Jeremy in the basement. I
saw
him. I’m not crazy.’

‘Of course you’re not crazy,’ Bishop said firmly. ‘But Stone was not lying or mistaken. I went to see Jeremy’s ex-wife early this morning, after the three of us finished talking. I asked Della Yarborough about that day at Kings Island.’