The Abduction of Mary Rose (26 page)

Eric settled on instant coffee, decaffeinated.

They sat in the small, tidy living room in front of the TV, which his host had switched off, and they talked about the case. And their mutual concern for Naomi Waters. The sergeant said she was like a horse with blinders. "But I also think that girl has a good sense of direction," he added.

Eric was glad he'd phoned. The guy was going stir crazy and missed his work. He probably wouldn't have invited him to his house and be talking so freely to him but for that.

Chapter Forty

Naomi drove slowly down Watson Street, checking the numbers on the houses. 632 was about halfway down, a few doors up from a dry cleaning shop. Most of the homes were wooden, not falling down exactly, but definitely on the way. The address was a two-story grey building with white trim, and relatively new siding. In better shape than some of its neighbours.

She parked a short distance past it, on the opposite side of the street. From here she could see the auto body shop up ahead, same side of the street. Big blue letters spelled out "Mac's Auto Body". He works close to where he lives, as she figured. He's probably there now. Her heart was pounding, and her hands on the wheel were damp. A heady brew of excitement and fear roiled inside her.

She sat in the car for several minutes trying to work up her nerve to face him. Up ahead, a half a dozen kids were playing dodge ball in the street, and she remembered that school would have let out for the summer.

Two young women, about her own age, passed her by going in the opposite direction, pushing baby carriages. They were laughing at some shared joke. Watching them walk away in her rearview mirror, she felt a pang of envy. They had family, were enjoying their lives, not chasing down killers. Worse, one who had sired them.

Never mind. All the pieces appeared to be falling into place, almost faster than she could process them. If she was wrong about this, she'd know soon enough, and no harm done. She'd just ask how much it would cost to dab up that scratch on her bumper. A legitimate reason for being there. Perfectly reasonable question.

She'd know by his face, just like she knew by Edna's face that she was lying about the pendant. Her breathing was shallow and she blew out a long shuddery breath. She wiped her hands on a tissue from her pocket. Would he smell her fear, like the animal he was? She took three more deep breaths, exhaled each slowly, then turned on the ignition.
I'm fine
.

She circled the block, came down Watson on the other side of the street and parked in front of the shop. She cracked open the window, could hear someone banging on metal, inside the garage. The office was adjoined. She got out of the car and went in.

An elderly man wearing a red plaid cap was sitting thumbing through a car magazine. He looked up when the door opened and nodded pleasantly. She managed a smile and a 'hi' in return. Her heart was racing so fast she thought she might pass out. She swallowed and found she had no saliva. Get it together, she commanded herself. She put on a neutral expression. After all, she was supposed to be some kind of actor. So act.

When the young man came into the office from the garage, wiping his hands on an oily rag, she told him about the scratch on her car. Then, she said quickly, before he could offer to check it out, "I'd like Mac to take a look at it, if he's not too busy."

"Yeah, sure. Just a sec. I think he's just finishing up. Your car'll be a couple a minutes, Mr. Howard," he said to the elderly man with the magazine.

Over the sudden howl of what she guessed was a machine that tightens lug nuts on a wheel, though it could have been anything, he opened the door and called out his boss's name. The howl ended abruptly, then began again as he closed the door. "Just puttin' the tires back on 'er," he told the man.

Before she was ready, the man she knew as Marcus Leeland came through the same door as his employee had entered, a Tim Horton's coffee in his hand. She felt as if she'd just stepped into an elevator and dropped twenty floors.

There was a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes when he looked at her. That was all. Had she not been watching so intently, she would have missed it. He was a far better actor than she.

His smile, as he handed the man his keys, revealed square white teeth. Veneers, she thought. The receding hairline in his high school photo had disappeared beneath a thick head of dark blond hair. He was in his mid-fifties, over six feet, a good-looking man, but for the evil he exuded. The coldness in those grey eyes. Or was it just because she knew the darkness that lie behind them? Behind the smile.

The man had paid his bill and left. Marcus Leeland turned his full attention on her.

"That your car out there, Ma'am?" he asked, gesturing through the window. "The blue Cavalier?" He spoke softly, with an intimacy that made her skin crawl.

"Yes. It's just a scratch on the bumper."

He drained his coffee, crushed the cup in his hand and was about to toss it in the green trash barrel by the door, when he changed his mind and shoved it into his jacket pocket, confirming everything for her. His expression didn't change. "Just a scratch, huh."

He wasn't about to let her get hold of anything with his DNA on it.

He was enjoying himself. She'd just upped the ante on the game. A game at which he was the expert.

"Well, let's go take a look at 'er, then."

He walked too close behind her, deliberately close, so that she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, smell the dark, sour heat and paint-smell of him and she thought she might be sick to her stomach. Breathing through her nose, forcing herself to stay calm, she raised her head just a little higher in a show of bravado, but she knew he wasn't fooled. Only amused.

"That scratch has been there awhile," he drawled, when they were on the sidewalk, those eyes peering straight into her soul. "Year, maybe."

"I uh, my mother was sick. It happened in the hospital parking lot. I just never got around to…." She was rambling. She gave a helpless shrug, stopped talking.

"Sorry about your mother," he said. He quoted her a reasonable price and asked if she'd like them to do the work now. "Won't take more 'n half an hour."

Sorry about your mother
.
Not, I hope she's feeling better.
He knows she didn't get better, that she died of cancer. He read it in the paper. He knows I live alone. Of course he does. He'd been to my house. Planned to burn it down, with me and Molly in it.

"No, it's okay. I really just wanted to get a couple of estimates."

"Uh, huh. Sure, no problem."

She saw the trace of a smile come into those cold eyes that were the colour of rotting ice. When she drove away, she saw him in her rearview mirror, still standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching after her.

Chapter Forty-One

Naomi didn't allow herself to take a full breath until she was half a mile from the dark, frightening aura of Marcus Leeland. Glancing at herself in the rearview mirror, into eyes looked shocked, skin pale as ash. Her gaze flicked nervously past her own reflection to check behind her, only too aware that he might have followed her from the body shop. But there was no one behind her.

He knows I know who he is, now. He knows I'm onto him. I've entered his game.

He'd make his move now soon. Tonight? She breathed deeply, let it out. It did little to calm her nerves, which didn't begin to settle down until she pulled into Lisa's drive. Barely in the door, she blurted, "I've seen him, Lisa. I've seen the man who murdered Mary Rose."

"Naomi, honey, you're shaking and you're white as a sheet. Sit down, sit down, let me pour you a nice hot cup of tea."

Molly looked at her then went back to the saucer of whatever Lisa had given her, apparently not missing her all that much.

Once Lisa was seated across from her, Naomi told her what happened, only keeping the name to herself. It was best if Lisa never heard it, never had that name rattling around in her brain. Even coming here she worried that she might be putting her in danger, although she knew he hadn't followed her. She was very careful about that. She must be diligent every second. She was reasonably sure he had followed her out to Debbie Banks' house without her knowledge, but it wouldn't happen again.

"Naomi, how can you…?"

"I had only to look into his eyes to know it was him."

"You say he's a garage mechanic?"

"Auto body work. Over on the west side."

"What makes you so sure it's him?"

Naomi explained about the photo in the school yearbook, about Edna having dated him. "There's not a question in my mind it's him." She took a sip of tea, set the cup back down on the saucer, careful to hold it steady. "God, I always knew Edna hated me, ever since I was a little kid I knew, I just could never figure out why."

"That's not hard. You're a reminder of what her old boyfriend did to a young girl," Lisa offered. "She showed some pretty lousy judgment back then."

"That's part of it. But I think it's more complicated than that. I took her place with Mom, at least that's how she saw it. I think she also resented Mary Rose, as crazy as that sounds. I doubt she even knows it, and if she did she'd never admit it."

"Resented her! Why on earth…?"

"Because Marcus wanted her. Because Edna wasn't enough for him. I think my Uncle Harold has been paying the price of Edna's rage for years. And so have I."

"If that's true, Naomi, then she's a very sick woman."

"Yeah. I know. Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong."

"Have you been to the police?"

"No. I'd be wasting my time. But I have a plan, Lisa." Impulsively, wanting to share with someone she could trust, she laid it out for her. The look of horror on Lisa's face told her she'd made a serious error.

"Clever. In theory, Naomi. But to lure this man into your home, using yourself as bait, is pure insanity." Lisa was almost hyperventilating.

I shouldn't have told her, Naomi thought. It was wrong to worry her. But no taking it back now.

"Calm down, Lisa," she said gently. "It'll work, Lisa. I know it will."

"Honey, you don't know any such thing. You only hope it will work. It's a crazy idea. Call the police, Naomi. You have enough now. The police will pick him up."

"They won't. I don't have any proof. I have only the pendant which Edna insists she found on a beach, and I can't prove anything different. It's all circumstantial."

After a hesitation, Lisa said with an air of desperation, "You can try to get a sample of his DNA."

"I thought of that, but he's very smart. He was drinking a coffee when I walked in and had been about to toss the empty cup in garbage, but then he thought better of it and crumpled the cup in his hand and shoved it in his pocket. Looked straight at me when he did it. Almost smirked."

Lisa's colour drained, and her hand went to her mouth. "Oh, Lord, Naomi, it really is him, isn't it? You've tracked him down. I can't believe it. After all these years. You've found him."

"Yes. I found him. You didn't believe me?"

Naomi took another sip of her tea, feeling a calm spread through her. It would be over soon. He would pay for what he did.

"It just seems … so incredible. All these years. You must know I can't let you go back to that house alone now, don't you? I can't let you sit around waiting for a killer to show up. I feel guilty enough about Mary Rose, this would kill me."