Authors: Karen Rose
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Crime, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective
‘That holds true for whoever did it. Who else?’
‘He’s the only one whose motive makes any sense. And there’s the question of how she got the document to begin with. She’d contacted the FBI to report Beckett and they told her he was dead. She wanted to be sure, so she mailed in a request to the state records department and ended up with two copies. One the FBI agent got for her and one that she received from the state through the mail about a month later. Now all this assumes that Agent Baker exists.’
‘You should request her personnel record.’
‘I did. After I heard Daphne’s story, I requested her report on the investigation and for Baker to call me. Just now I sent a note to Bo, asking for her personnel record. Hopefully we’ll know something by morning.’
‘How did she contact the FBI? Did she go to the office or call them on the phone?’
‘Neither. She wrote them a letter.’
‘Why didn’t she call?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll ask her when she wakes up. I get the impression that she was watched pretty closely by her mother-in-law, Nadine. Maybe she was worried her calls would be screened. If so, maybe her outgoing mail was, too. Anyone who knew she’d contacted the FBI is suspect. The only people she had contact with in those days were the Elkharts – Travis and his mother. The staff. Her own mother to a smaller extent. And Maggie, also to a smaller extent. I don’t think Daphne got to see them often.’
‘I can’t imagine the Elkharts would have appreciated Daphne’s coming forward at that point. Huge scandal. I’m actually surprised the Elkharts allowed the marriage to happen at all. They had to have known what happened to her as a child. They would have done an extensive background check. I would have thought Travis would want a wife with no skeletons in her closet.’
‘The skeletons wouldn’t have been easy to find. Daphne was only eight at the time and they’d moved to a different town. Her mother changed her name, too. She’d been Sinclair, but she went back to her maiden name when her husband left.’
‘Elkhart had the money to buy a damn good PI, Joseph. They would have left no stone unturned.’
‘The only people who knew the whole story before tonight were Maggie and the FBI agent, Claudia Baker. Even Maggie didn’t know Beckett’s name.’ He blew out a breath. ‘But Daphne did call the state death records office to ask about Beckett’s death. If someone was monitoring her calls . . . Shit.’
‘They didn’t even have to be monitoring her calls. They could have been inspecting her mail and seen the request for the death certificate. All they’d have to do is whip up a fake, make it look official. Daphne was only— How old was she?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘Oh, Joseph, she was just a child herself. She wouldn’t have known what to look for on a fake document.’
Joseph didn’t think that Daphne had ever been just a child. ‘You could be right. But that would mean Agent Baker was involved. Again, assuming Agent Baker exists.’ Joseph checked his email. He’d only asked Bo’s help in speeding things up a short time ago, but miracles did happen, even in the world of FBI.
‘Who else knew about Beckett, Joseph? You said Maggie knew. How?’
‘Maggie knew about Beckett, but not his name. Maggie did therapy with Daphne, letting her take care of the horses.’ Then Joseph went still as he heard Daphne’s voice in his head.
I’d whisper my secrets in her ear
. Daphne had told Lulu the horse all about her agony. And then Maggie’s voice.
She did what she always does when she’s upset
.
She went to the barn
. Had a fifteen-year-old Daphne whispered her troubles to one of the Elkharts’ horses? And who had overheard?
‘Shit,’ he muttered. ‘Daphne still takes care of the horses when she’s upset. She said she whispered her troubles in their ears. The Elkharts have a stable on the grounds.’ He knew this because Maggie had told him that Scott Cooper had been the Elkhart’s groom before he’d started his own business coaching kids to jump.
‘If Travis had a PI following her, he could have overheard Maggie tell her story, maybe even say Beckett’s name.’
‘Or Scott Cooper could have overheard. He lost his business because Travis accused Daphne of having an affair with him.’ He told Grayson the story Maggie had told him that morning. ‘His wife left him and he had nothing. Had to depend on Daphne until he got his business back up and running.’
‘Could make a guy resentful,’ Grayson said. ‘You want me to check him out?’
‘If you would. Also check out Elkhart’s ex-head of security, Hal Lynch. He was there from the beginning, from the night she met the prick. If someone hired a PI for a background check, it probably went through him.’
‘You met him, too?’
‘Yes,’ Joseph said. ‘But neither of those guys are Doug. Doug’s twenty-nine. Cooper’s a good fifty and Hal’s pushing sixty.’
‘And Doug would have only been a kid himself when Daphne requested that death certificate. Nine years old.’
Joseph thought hard, abruptly ceasing his pacing. ‘Cooper has a son. He said the son could help him move Daphne’s horses to a barn on his property.’
‘Cooper’s got property up by Daphne’s farm? That is pricey real estate. Starts in the six figures and goes up fast. I thought you said he had nothing.’
‘That’s what Maggie said.’ A dark suspicion crossed Joseph’s mind and he shook it away. ‘I don’t want to believe Maggie would be involved in anything to hurt Daphne, but almost everything I know came from her.’
‘I can check her out, too, if you want. But we know she’s not Doug.’
‘True. And she could have harmed Daphne long ago if she’d really wanted to. Damn. I’m so twisted up in my mind that I’m suspecting sweet old ladies. It’s making me crazy, knowing Doug’s out there, gunning for Daphne, and I don’t even have his face. And not even his whole name.’
‘He’s careful. He hasn’t left a print anywhere so far.’
‘He leaves prints,’ Joseph grumbled. ‘Just not where we know to look for them.’
Grayson yawned. ‘Go get some sleep, Joseph. You’ll be able to think better when you’re rested. I’m at Zacharias’s house and it looks like this wake is breaking up. I’m going in to get Paige and go home and practice what I preach.’
‘I can’t sleep yet. I’ve got to let the locals know what I found on Beckett. Thanks, Gray. I appreciate it.’
‘You know you can call me at any time. I’m always there for you. And Daphne. She’s a good woman, Joseph. Makes damn good muffins.’
Joseph thought about her muffins. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘And, ah, we’re probably not talking the same kind of muffins.’
Joseph laughed. ‘We’d better not be. I wouldn’t need to kick your ass. Paige would have it all pre-kicked for me.’
He hung up and crept into Daphne’s room to get his briefcase. Once there, he couldn’t resist the urge to stand at her bedside and watch her, just for a moment. Or two. She slept deeply, her brow uncreased. She wasn’t dreaming, for now.
He made sure she was covered up and crept back into his own room, closing the adjoining door behind him, even though he really wanted to climb under the blanket with her. To hold her and . . . be happy.
He would. Once he made sure she was safe. He rummaged through his papers and found contact information for McManus and Kerr.
He got McManus’s voicemail, but Kerr answered. Turned out the Pittsburgh Fed had come to the same conclusions that Joseph had. Kerr had also put in a request for information on Agent Claudia Baker. Whoever got the info first would call the others.
With no more that could be done till morning, Joseph was ready to crawl back into bed with Daphne when he saw the big black dog still stretched across her door.
He grabbed her leash. ‘Tasha, let’s go outside.’ He hoped the dog remembered him – specifically he hoped the dog remembered that she liked him. When she didn’t take a bite out his hand, Joseph figured he was safe.
Out in the hall he tapped on Hector’s door. And blinked when Kate Coppola answered. ‘Don’t even think it,’ she warned. ‘We’re sharing out of necessity.’
Joseph looked over her shoulder to see Hector sprawled on the sofa, a can of cola in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.
‘What necessity?’ Joseph asked.
‘Simone and Maggie had a fight. Simone wanted to get her own room, but the only vacancies were on other floors. I told Simone to take my room. Therefore, necessity.’
‘Why did they fight?’
‘I only caught the tail end of it, after Simone broke a music box.’
‘Why did she have one of those?’
‘I’m not sure, but I know I heard the melody last night when Simone had nightmares and Maggie tried to get her to go back to sleep. I’m guessing it’s a sleep aid.’
‘How did she break it? Tell me she didn’t throw it.’
‘No. She threw a pillow that knocked it off the dresser. I came in to find Simone snarling at Maggie who was trying to help her pick up the pieces. She said she’d had enough of Maggie’s help for a lifetime. I gathered that up to that point the fight was about Daphne. Simone said “betrayal”. A lot. That’s all I know.’
‘I can guess. Maggie’s known about Beckett, almost since the beginning.’
Kate winced. ‘And she didn’t tell Simone?’
‘Maggie was acting in a therapist role. Daphne made her promise not to tell. Daphne was afraid that if her mother knew, she’d go after Beckett.’
‘And then Beckett would kill her.’ Kate’s mouth bent sympathetically. ‘Finding out after all this time that Maggie knew would cause a rift. I’m staying out of that one.’
‘Wise. I actually knocked to see if Hector would keep an eye on Daphne while I walk the dog, but now that I’m standing here that pizza smells really good.’
‘You might as well come on in and join us,’ Hector called from the sofa. ‘We’re expensing it to your budget.’
Let’s see
. . .
eating a relaxed meal or crawling back under the covers with Daphne?
‘
I’m beat. I think I’ll take a slice to eat while I walk the dog, then call it a night.’
Hector came to the door, a slice in his hand and a look of knowing amusement on his face. ‘I kind of thought you’d say that. Eat up, boss. You never know when you’ll need that sudden burst of energy.’
Kate bit back a smile and Joseph knew his jig was up.
‘Thanks,’ Joseph said, taking the slice with as much dignity as he could muster. ‘Status meeting in my room tomorrow morning at seven. Don’t be late. Goodnight.’
But when he got to the elevator, Joseph let himself grin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wheeling, West Virginia, Thursday, December 5, 1.45
A.M.
T
he screaming woke her up. On a sharp indrawn breath Daphne’s eyes flew open, her body going rigid in the bed. And she listened. To nothing.
Slowly she exhaled. Just the nightmare. She’d expected it. After everything that had happened yesterday, how could she not?
A strong arm curved around her waist, pulling her against a warm, hard body.
Joseph
. His hand slipped up under her nightshirt, cupping her breast gently but possessively.
‘I’m here,’ he murmured. ‘You’re safe.’
‘I know.’
Now
. ‘It was just a dream.’
‘Same one you had last night?’
‘Yeah.’
He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, not kissing, just firm contact. ‘Tell me.’
‘It’s just screaming.’
‘Kelly?’
‘Sometimes. Sometimes it’s me. I run and I run and I can’t breathe. And there’s a hole . . . in the floor. I always stop in time. But the hole is dark. I know something evil is there. And I back away from the hole. But he comes and pushes me in.’
His arm tightened around her. ‘And then?’
‘I wake up. I guess it’s not exactly subtle on the symbolism. I never scream out loud, at least not that I know of. I kept thinking I’d grow out of it, that I’d move past it, but I never have. I mean, it wasn’t like I even saw anything. I just heard it. But I can’t forget the screams. And the nightmare never goes away.’
He was quiet for a long time. Only the fine tension in his body told her he wasn’t asleep. ‘I know.’
His voice had gone hollow. Haunted.
Daphne turned in his arms, looked up into his face. His jaw was taut, his eyes open but unblinking. Staring straight ahead. At nothing at all.
‘Tell me,’ she murmured, laying her hand against his jaw. ‘What do you know?’
He blinked then, looking down at her, pain in his dark eyes. ‘I know what it’s like to hear the screams and not be able to make them stop.’
‘You heard Jo scream?’ she asked, very quietly.
He nodded. ‘They wanted a ransom. Thought my family needed incentive.’
Oh no, she thought, fearing what had made his wife scream. ‘What happened?’
He said nothing, rolling to his back and tucking her up against him. His fingers were in her hair, his palm cradling her head. She spread her hand over his heart and let him hold her, cocooned against him. And she waited.
‘She wanted a big wedding,’ he finally said. ‘I just wanted my ring on her finger. We were both still deployed, but her unit had been assigned to another ship. I guess I felt making it official would make it more real. So we compromised. We’d have a civil ceremony with a military chaplain, take leave for a short honeymoon, then do the big church wedding when we both got home.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘Paris. In the end it wouldn’t have mattered where we went. She’d been a target for a long time.’
‘Because she was a pilot?’
His chest moved in a single bitter huff. ‘Because she was mine. And I was rich. And so damn naïve I thought nobody knew it.’
She thought about what he’d said the night before, about wanting to be his own man. Of getting into the Academy on his own. ‘You didn’t tell anyone about your family.’
‘No. I wanted people to respect me . . . to like me for myself. Not because I was my father’s son. But it turned out quite a few people on the ship knew I was my father’s son, that I had millions at my disposal. One of them, an ensign, wanted a few of those millions. He knew I was going on leave because he worked in the admin office, processing the requests. He knew Jo was too.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Hired some pals from the States to be there when we got to Paris. We had three days together and it was . . . beautiful. I’d hired a car to take us back to the airport and that’s where everything unraveled. The ensign had a driver waiting in the lobby. He’d canceled the reservation I’d made weeks earlier. So the car that picked us up at the hotel pulled off an exit halfway to the airport, overpowered us, drugged us, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the dark. Jo was in another room, screaming. Begging for help. For me. But I was tied up and couldn’t get to her. I have never felt so helpless.’
‘I know.’ She had to force the words from her throat.
‘I know you do. One of the kidnappers shoved a phone to my ear, told me to talk to my father, tell him to get the money to them fast and not to contact the police. Dad got on a plane with the cash. He also contacted the Parisian police. One of the kidnappers went to get the money, the other stayed to guard us. I’d been working the rope they used to tie me ever since I’d woken up and had made a little progress, when the one who’d stayed behind got a call. When he hung up he told Jo that they’d gotten their money, but that he’d have “one last go” for the road. He started again and I . . . lost it. Just raw rage.’
She didn’t know what to say. What to do for him. She’d been a terrified child. He been an adult, Jo the woman he’d loved. ‘What did you do?’ she whispered, horrified.
‘I clawed at the rope until finally I could rip my hands free. It took the top layers of skin off my hands, but I didn’t even feel it. Not then anyway. I got the ropes off my ankles and charged. But I was too late. He’d . . . finished and was dressed. I don’t know if he’d ever gotten completely undressed. He hadn’t completely undressed Jo. She was still wearing her blouse, but that was all. I remember that. It was white, or it had started out that way. When I got to him, he had his gun pointed at her. He saw me and went pale. I threw myself at her, over her, but he’d hurried up and pulled the trigger, trying to kill her first. I guess he didn’t want to fight us both at the same time. He shot her in the chest.’
She remembered his panic on the courthouse steps. He thought she’d been shot, had been on the verge of ripping her shirt off to get to her wounds before Grayson had made him understand that she was wearing Kevlar, that the blood on her white blouse hadn’t been her own.
He’d been reliving that moment with Jo.
Oh, Joseph
. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He held her tight, so tight she could barely breathe. ‘She was bleeding, a lot. And then he shot me. I barely felt it. I was . . . beyond pain. I surged up, grabbed him and took the gun.’
The air seemed to seep from his lungs and he lay there, very still. And something changed. His arms still wrapped around her, but all the previous need was gone. She felt him pulling away from her, even though he never physically moved an inch.
She remembered the commander’s conference room when she’d thought Ford was dead. She’d asked him if the men who’d taken his wife were alive and he’d said no. So coldly. She lifted her head, resting her forearms on his chest. His expression was shuttered. Wherever he’d gone, he didn’t want her there with him.
Which was too damn bad.
‘What did you do to him?’ she asked, her voice low.
He closed his eyes. ‘I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep.’
‘Pffft.’ The sound she made was one of derision. ‘I don’t think so, sugar.’
His jaw tightened. ‘Please.’ His voice was even. Reasonable. ‘Go to sleep.’
‘Joseph, I’m not getting any younger, so I’ll be blunt. You said you wanted a relationship. And so do I. But I don’t do threesomes.’
His eyes flew open, brows knitting. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Right now there are three people in this bed. You, me, and whoever the sonofabitch was that you killed that day. If you shut me out now ...’ She trailed off, knowing a threat would damage what they hadn’t even started to build.
Which was exactly what Joseph would be doing with his silence.
She kissed his mouth, felt him stiffen in surprise and realized he’d hoped to make her so angry that she’d roll over and go to sleep. He didn’t know her very well. Yet.
‘Joseph, I’ve told you my worst secrets. If you shut me out now, you’ll hold power over me, and I’ll have none over you. I lived that life for twelve years as Mrs Travis Elkhart. I am
so
not going down that road with you.’
He met her eyes, then, and she saw misery. ‘How do you know I killed him?’
‘Because you told me the men who took your wife were no longer alive.’
‘I have a big mouth,’ he said grimly.
She kissed that mouth, traced his lower lip with her fingertip. ‘What did you do?’
His shoulders tensed. All of him tensed, the façade of calm he’d projected suddenly gone. ‘We fought. He was strong. But I was . . . wild. I broke his neck. Snapped it. Like a twig. I can still hear that sound to this day.’ He swallowed hard. ‘It still brings me satisfaction.’
His eyes grew piercing and he seemed to hover over the statement, waiting.
She cupped his tight jaw, felt the muscle twitch under her palm. ‘If he’d overpowered you, what would he have done?’
‘The same damn thing.’
‘Then there you go. Eat or be eaten. I, for one, am very glad you won. You survived.’
He stilled once again. ‘I didn’t even care about survival at that moment, Daphne. I just wanted him dead.’
He’d used her name for the first time since starting his story. He was back with her. Re-engaged. Relief shivered down her back. She considered her answer carefully, knowing it was an important one. And that he held his breath, waiting for it.
‘Joseph, if you’re waiting for me to condemn you for wanting him dead, you’ll be waiting a long time. If you’re waiting for me to be horrified that hearing that snap still brings you satisfaction, you’ll be waiting even longer. He hurt your wife in unspeakable ways. He killed her. For money. That he paid for his evil with his life . . . that’s justice.’
His eyes flickered, his throat worked as he swallowed, but he said nothing.
‘The satisfaction . . .’ She shrugged. ‘I’d label it “comfort”. I envy you, in a way. You got the closure most victims can only dream about. And whether you accept it or not, you were fighting to survive. It’s a basic instinct. It’s only after the fact that we question our motives. You killed him before he killed you. End of story. If I were in your shoes, I’d consider the satisfaction at the neck-snapping memory as a gift.’
He closed his eyes. ‘I never thought about it that way.’
‘Well, you should. What happened after that?’
‘I found a phone. Called for help, hoped the police could trace our location, because I didn’t know where we were. I went back to Jo, tried to stop her bleeding but I couldn’t, so I just held her. She stopped breathing, but I couldn’t let her go. I just held her as her blood drained away and there wasn’t anything I could do.’
‘Oh, Joseph.’ Her lips trembled.
‘I don’t know how long I sat there, but I heard a noise. The second guy had come back for the first, taken one look at the scene and charged me, his gun drawn. He fired, twice. Hit me once. I tackled him before he could fire again and we fought for his gun. I grabbed his hand, got control of the gun.’ He paused. And sighed. ‘I could have thrown the gun away but I didn’t. I forced his hand so that he jammed the barrel into his own gut. And I made him squeeze the trigger. Just as the cops burst in.’
‘What did they see?’
‘Me, fighting for my life.’
‘Which you were, Joseph.’
‘Not really.’
‘I’ll ask again. If he’d won the fight, what would he have done? Left you alive to identify him?’
‘No.’
‘Then you did what you had to.’
‘I could have held him off till the cops came.’
‘Did you know they were coming at that moment?’
His eyes flickered. The notion surprised him. ‘No,’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t.’
‘You were wounded too. Bleeding, right?’
Again the flicker. ‘Yes.’
‘How long were you in the hospital afterward?’
‘Two weeks.’
‘Because your injuries were that bad. So could you really have held him off for long? And if he wrested control, what would he have done to you?’ She gave him a moment to consider it before answering the question herself. ‘He would have grabbed the gun and finished the job. You’d seen him. He had the money with him. He wasn’t going to let you live from the beginning, Joseph.’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘Because it is. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.’
His brow furrowed slightly. ‘Someone else said that to me recently. Someone smarter than me.’ He reached up, smoothed the hair away from her face. ‘I wasn’t fighting for my life that day, Daphne, no matter what you think. I was fighting for their deaths, because at that moment my life was gone. Holding Jo as she died . . . It was like my life drained away with hers. I didn’t care about living for a long, long time after that. Everything was dark. All the color was gone. If I hadn’t had my family and my job . . .’
‘Finding other people’s missing loved ones?’
‘It gave me a reason to want to wake up in the morning. And little by little the darkness faded.’ One side of his mouth lifted. ‘To sepia, maybe. But there was never color. Until one day . . .’
His eyes were on hers and she knew this was one of those moments she’d carry with her always. She held her breath, waiting for it. ‘One day?’ she whispered.
‘One day I looked up and saw this . . . goddess walking up to my brother’s front door in a lime green suit and legs up to her shoulders. And it was like I’d just been dropped from Kansas into Oz. Brilliant, bold color where there had been none. Warmth when I’d been so cold. My heart . . . started beating again.’
Her heart stuttered, her eyes filling. ‘Joseph.’
He tugged her head down until she covered his mouth with hers. The kiss was lush and utterly lovely. ‘How many people are in this bed now, Daphne?’
‘Just you and me.’
‘Good. Then let’s go to sleep. Just you and me. No more nightmares tonight.’
Baltimore, Maryland, Thursday, December 5, 6.00
A.M.
Cole woke slowly, his neck so stiff that he winced. The floor was hard and cold and he hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time all night because Kimberly wouldn’t shut the hell up. Finally, out of self-preservation, he’d duct-taped her mouth shut.
He sat up, rubbing his neck. Checked his cell phone for the time. School started in an hour and a half. The cops would probably be waiting at the school for him to show up so they could arrest him. When he didn’t show up, they’d come back here.