Dead Ringer (27 page)

"Yeah."

"You
took a hell of a pounding a couple of weeks ago."

"Not
too bad."

The
kid sniffed. He couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen. "You ever
thought about sparring with me? I could use the practice."

In
the last couple of days Jacob had just started to feel human after the last
bout. He'd be a fool to take on another match with the healing fractures in his
hand. It was a no-brainer. Still, ego and frustration over Kendall had him
considering it. "
You training
for a fight?"

"Yeah.
It's a big one."

Jacob
set his bag down and walked to the ropes. "Don't you have a trainer?"

"Can't afford one.
I get tips here and there. I watch
other fighters. I've watched you in the ring." He crossed gloved hands over the
ropes and leaned forward. "I've seen you fight, even seen some of your old
fights on tape. You've got
instinct
, old man. I need to get me some of
your instinct."

The
kid was a big puppy and didn't mean "old man" in a bad way. Still, it stung.
"Call me old man again and I'll show you some instinct."

Lenny
grinned. "So you'll go a round or two with me?"

"Let's
start with me showing you a few moves, and then see how it goes from there."

"Cool.
When?"

The
kid was hungry. Jacob respected that.
"Got a case right now.
I'll call when it's settled."

Lenny
nodded. "I'm here every day."

"Right."
Jacob picked up his bag. "In the meantime,
keep your right hand up. It drops too much."

The
kid grinned.
"Will do."

Jacob
headed to the corner bagel shop and ordered an egg sandwich and an extra large
coffee. The food tasted good and he actually felt human.

He
arrived at the office by noon and read the Teletype left by the FBI. As Zack
had said, the report detailed the strangulation of two women who shared
physical features of the women killed here.

Jacob
checked his watch. Noon here meant eight there. He dialed the number supplied,
hoping to reach the officer listed in the report. The phone rang three times
before he heard a gruff, "Alaska State Trooper's Office."

Jacob
identified himself and waited as the operator transferred him to the trooper.
After introductions and a few pleasantries, he brought Trooper Mike Payne up to
speed on the local murders. "What can you tell me?"

Payne's
chair squeaked and Jacob imagined him leaning back in it. "I pulled the file
last night when I got word there'd been a hit.
Tragic cases.
Hit the family hard."

"Family?
Not families?"

"The
women were sisters. Their names were Maria and Anita Gonzales, ages thirty and
twenty-eight. Maria was the first killed. She'd just gotten in her car after
her waitress shift. The killer apparently approached her seconds later. Her
keys were in the ignition and partially turned as if she'd been interrupted.
Her attacker must have yanked her out of the car. We found her body two months
later. She'd been dead only a few days."

"He'd
held her?"

"Yeah.
And there'd been no sign of sexual assault."

Frowning,
Jacob wrote the women's names on a legal pad.
"And the
sister?"

"She
vanished three weeks after her sister's body was found. She'd returned to work
at a local gift shop. Her killer nabbed her from the back storeroom. We found
drops of her blood and tire tracks behind the store. We think he hit her, maybe
knocked her out, and then put her in a waiting vehicle."

"Where
was her body found?"

A
shuffle of papers crackled through the phone. "She wasn't found for two weeks.
And by the condition of the body, we estimated that she'd not been killed for
at least ten days."

"Sexual assault?"

"None."

"And
these women weren't wearing charm necklaces?"

"No."

Jacob
drew circles around the word
sisters
.
"Forensic
evidence?"

"Pink rug fibers."

Jacob
expelled a breath. "Just like my victims."

"Yeah."

His
heart pounded. "Got any theories on this one?"

"We
had lots in the beginning.
Interviewed ex-boyfriends,
coworkers, and neighbors.
You name 'em, we talked to 'em. But nothing
came up that led us anywhere. It was big news up here for a while."

"And
no other murders in the area?"

"None
like these."

"We
have two victims, each with pink fibers. Each appears to have been held for
several days before they were killed. Both strangled, except our victims
weren't sisters and they were wearing charms."

"They
weren't sisters?" the trooper challenged.

"They
look alike but we checked into their family background. One's a foster kid and
the other grew up in a respected family. Both had dark eyes and dark hair."

The
trooper sighed. "I'd say our guy killed the first victim here on impulse. He
put more thought into the second killing."

"And
now his planning appears to be even more detailed."

"Can
you overnight me a copy of your file?"

"Sure.
You'll have it tomorrow if the snow lets up and the planes can fly. Blizzard
just hit."

"Thanks,
Trooper Payne."

"Call
me if you catch this guy."

"I
will." Jacob hung up the phone.

He
stared at his notes. "What the hell was setting this guy off?"

Kendall
was a bundle of nerves when she stepped into Dr. Erica Christopher's office.
She'd never done therapy and didn't relish the thought. But something had to
give.

The
fifty-something woman rose from her desk, smiled, and extended her hand. "You
must be Kendall Shaw."

Kendall
pulled off her dark glasses and accepted her hand. "Yes. Dr. Christopher?"

"Yes.
Won't you have a seat?"

"Thanks."
She sat on the edge of the couch, ready to spring to her feet if need be.

"Why
don't you tell me why you're here?"

Kendall
gave her the highlights.
Dreams.
Adoption worries.
All of it.
"I want the dreams to stop."

"You
never had anything like this before?"

"No."

"And
the dreams started when?"

"Last summer.
They were just flashes at first.
Nothing too startling.
It's only been in the last couple of
weeks that they've gotten to be overwhelming. I have pain meds from last summer
when I had my shoulder surgery. They make me sleep but I'm so groggy all day.
And I don't want to cover the problem. I want to get rid of it."

Dr.
Christopher pulled off her glasses and studied Kendall. "Would you be
interested in trying hypnosis?"

"I'll
try anything at this point."

"How about now?"

"Sure."

The
doctor rose, turned on a small side lamp, and then turned off the overhead
light. The room took on a cozy, more intimate feel. Kendall straightened her
back and tried to look relaxed.

Dr.
Christopher scooted her chair to within inches of Kendall. "What do you know
about hypnosis?"

"A little.
I'm going to feel relaxed. You can't make me
do anything I don't want to?"

"That's
right. You will be in a totally relaxed state and your mind is going to open.
What we are going to try to do is get you back to that closet and see what else
we can discover about it."

Kendall's
stomach churned. Everything in her told her not to go back to that place.
"Okay."

The
doctor smiled. "Close your eyes. Relax your hands. Take a deep breath and
release it." In a deep, soothing voice, she took Kendall through the process of
hypnosis.

Soon
the tension seeped from her body and the millions of details that always
filtered through her mind faded. She lost track of time and was only aware of
feeling warm and relaxed.

"Now,
Kendall," Dr. Christopher said. "Let's go back to your dream.
When you are in the closet.
For now there is only silence,
as if you've put the world on mute. Tell me what you smell and what you feel
with your fingertips. Is it hot or cold?"

For
a moment, Kendall's mind was blank. And then her senses kicked in. "I feel the
scratchy shag carpet under my legs. My left knee sock has fallen to my ankle.
The air is chilly and I smell something sweet."

"That's
good."

"Have
you been in the closet before?"

Eyes
closed, Kendall smiled. "It's my favorite place to play. I can be alone here."

Dr.
Christopher laid her hand over Kendall's. "Now, I want you to turn the volume
back up. I want you to let the sounds grow gradually louder."

Kendall
imagined turning the volume up on a TV. At first there was nothing, only
silence. And then in the distance, the screams began. It sounded like someone
was running toward her and yelling.

Her
heart racing, Kendall put down her crayon and stood up. She peeked through the
keyhole but couldn't see anything. And still the screams grew louder. For
several long seconds there was only the terrifying noise.

And
then the door to the bedroom outside the closet burst open and she saw a woman.
Her face was frantic and her eyes were crazed. In her arms she held a small
bundle. The woman raced to the door and jerked it open.

Kendall
darted back, certain she was in trouble. The woman pushed Kendall into the back
of the closet.

"Sit
down," she ordered. "Sit down and be quiet."

"But why?"

The
woman laid the bundle at Kendall's feet. It was a baby. Pink and small, its
arms and legs punched and kicked at the air as if to convey displeasure.

"Stay
here. Keep the baby quiet. For the love of God be quiet."

And
then the woman slammed the closet door and locked it. Kendall was left in the
darkness with the baby, who was starting to fuss.

She
jumped to her feet and pounded on the door. "Mommy, don't leave me!"

"Kendall."
Dr. Christopher's voice was stern. "Kendall, I want you to wake up now.
Kendall, do you hear me?"

Eyes
fluttered open and focused on the doctor's face. Kendall's fists were clenched
so tight her knuckles were white. Slowly, she uncurled them.

Sweat
dampened her back and her heart pounded in her chest. "The woman in the dream
was my birth mother."

The
doctor patted her on the hand. "What do you remember about her?"

She
searched her mind for details that might reveal what the woman looked like.
"The image is out of focus." She concentrated harder.
"Dark
hair.
She smelled like apples."

"Do
you know why she was screaming?" The doctor's voice was calm and soothing.

Kendall
drew in a ragged sigh. "I think someone was trying to kill her. I think she was
trying to protect me and...my sister."

Amanda
awoke to the sharp smell of ammonia. Her head jerked back and she coughed as
her eyes popped open. Her vision was blurred, but she could see that there was
a man sitting in a chair directly across from her. They were so close, their
knees touched.

"Good,
you are awake. I was beginning to worry." His smile was warm and welcoming.

"Where
am I?"

"Don't
you know?"

Amanda's
head ached and her fingers felt numb as fear coiled around her chest. Her
vision cleared and she looked around the room. Pink. Gaudy splashes of pink
that covered the bed, the walls, and the curtains. It was a wretched shade.

She
turned her gaze back to the man's face. She stared at him a long moment. She'd
never seen him before and yet she
knew
him.

Her
blouse was askew and her bra had been unsnapped. She also realized her panties
were gone and she was sore inside. Disgust and shame knotted in her stomach.
"What did you do to me?"

Color
warmed his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you like that, but I
wanted you so much. Forgive me."

She
never thought she could hate so much. Whatever was going on here wasn't just
about rape. Ice coated her words. "What do you want?"

He
met her gaze. "You know who I am, don't you?"

She
stared into the man's eyes. Her memory rushed back in a blinding flash. This
was the man who'd forced his way into her apartment. She moistened dry lips and
glanced down at her wrists. "You broke into my apartment."