False Front (29 page)

‘Does that mean she lied to her fiancé? Does that mean she did not intend to fly out today?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe she slipped past us using an alias.’

The silence stretched out as they both lapsed into thought. Then it hit her.

‘Jake, don’t a lot of people with false IDs use the identity of dead people?’

‘Yeah. They get birth certificates. And social security cards. And then a passport.’

‘She is using the name of one of her victims.’

‘The murders are too recent. She wouldn’t have time to get a passport in Candace’s name and heaven knows, she’d never pass as Charles,’ Jake argued.

‘But she had plenty of time – thirty years, in fact – to assume an identity in Lindsey Barnaby’s name.’

‘Crap. I should have thought of that. I gotta run and get that name out to everyone.’

Lucinda hung up and wondered what she could do now. She wanted to talk to Frank Eagleton about his wife’s prescription medication but knew she had to go through his attorney. She placed a call and was told he was in court. She left a message and fretted over her current state of inaction. She began perusing all the background materials provided to her by the research department, looking for something she might have missed or anything that might prompt a new line of inquiry.

Engrossed in her review, she grabbed her cell when it rang without looking at the screen.

‘Lieutenant Pierce?’

The voice sounded familiar. ‘Yes. Is this Mr Eagleton?’

‘I was informed you called my attorney this morning.’

‘Yes, I did. I told him I needed to speak to you.’

‘He’s going to be tied up in court all day today and I didn’t want to leave you hanging. What do you need to know?’

Lucinda was perplexed. He was so adamant that everything go through his attorney. What game was he playing now? Has he had a change of heart about the investigation? Or is he playing me? Does he want to be helpful or is he feeling cocky? ‘Mr Eagleton, I wanted to ask you about the emergency supply of Promethazine your wife had.’

‘What about it?’

‘Could you come to the justice center or could I come by your office so that we can talk?’

‘No. Don’t have time for that today. But if you have questions, I’ll be glad to answer them right now.’

Lucinda thought about waiting until she could meet with him face-to-face. But when would that be? She decided to get what information she could while Frank was amenable to talking. ‘Do you know if she had to use any of it since she got the prescription refilled?’

‘I don’t believe so. She had two doses left when she got it filled again and I don’t think she used it once. Unless maybe she needed to inject the morning before she died.’

‘Where are the remaining doses?’

‘In the medicine cabinet in her bathroom.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘Yes. Even though we were sleeping in separate rooms, she always wanted me to know where to find her medication in case she was too incapacitated to inject herself.’

‘It wasn’t there, Mr Eagleton. Where else do you suppose it might be?’

‘Not there? That makes no sense.’

‘I didn’t think so either.’

‘I can look again when I get home. There should be eight doses remaining or at least seven.’

‘And you know how to administer it?’

‘Yes. I haven’t done it more than two or three times in all the years we were married but I know exactly what to do.’

‘Did you inject your wife on the morning of her death?’

‘No. I did not. What’s this all about?’

‘I received toxicology results from the area around an injection site on your wife’s body.’

‘She must have gone out in the garden that morning and gotten stung.’

How convenient, Lucinda thought. He certainly had a quick response for that one. ‘Does she spend a lot of time in the garden?’

‘More than she should. She loved the flowers – and is especially fond of the scent of the roses. I’ve warned her about how dangerous it is for her to smell them but she never would listen.’

‘I’m sure you did,’ Lucinda said, trying to make her tone of voice believable. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr Eagleton.’

‘I’ll call you tonight if I find her medicine.’

‘You do that, sir.’ Lucinda disconnected the call. She was certain she’d hear back that night – positive that he would find the Promethazine, one way or the other. She immediately picked up the landline and hit the extension number for the head of the forensics unit, Marguerite Spellman.

‘No, Lieutenant,’ she said, ‘there was nothing of the sort in the medicine cabinet. In fact, there was nothing in there when we left. I removed every drug – prescription and over-the-counter – for possible testing. That cupboard was bare when we left the scene.’

‘Look through the recovered contents again – just to be certain. I know that sounds lame, but please indulge me.’ Lucinda’s cell was ringing as she ended the call. ‘Pierce.’

‘Lindsey Barnaby has had an active passport for the last twenty-two years.’

‘The same Lindsey Barnaby?’

‘Same birth date. Same city of birth. Same social security number.’

‘It’s got to be Middleton.’

‘That or a coincidence – someone heard of her death . . .’

‘Don’t start with that crap, Jake. It’s just too connected to be unconnected.’

‘Do you realize that makes next to no sense?’

‘Don’t be picky – you know what I mean.’

‘Yeah, I do. We’re checking now to see if that passport went through security. So far, it doesn’t appear so.’

‘Why aren’t we at the airport?’

‘I’m on my way to pick you up right now.’

Before she could insist that she do the driving, Jake was gone. She hated the way he drove – but she did love his car. She gathered her things and took the stairs down to the first floor.

When Jake’s car pulled up, she noticed its usually immaculate exterior was covered with dust, and beneath that outer layer it was riddled with dings and scratches. ‘What happened to your car?’ she asked as she climbed in.

‘The dirt and gravel roads of Albemarle County happened.’

‘You’ve got to let me pay for the bodywork you need.’

‘Only if it’s a wedding present.’

‘Wedding present? Who’s the lucky girl?’

‘Ha, ha, ha, Lucy.’

‘You actually thought I’d accept that?’

‘I was hoping.’

‘That was the lamest excuse for a proposal I’ve ever heard.’

‘What’s a guy to do? When I’m direct, you blow me off.’

‘You won’t get commitment from me with trickery, Jake.’

‘What will it take, Lucy?’

‘Shut up and drive, Jake.’

‘No. What will it take?’

‘I told you that I wouldn’t consider it until I’d finished with my surgical procedures on my face.’

‘And yet, you keep putting them off.’

‘Cut it out. I don’t have the time right now.’

‘You won’t make the time because it’s a handy excuse to avoid commitment.’

‘We’re working, Jake. Keep focused on the job at hand.’

‘So why do I think that when all the surgery is over you’ll put me off saying that you can’t make a commitment until you can see out of both eyes.’

‘They can’t do that, Jake. They can’t transplant an eye to replace the one I lost.’

‘Exactly. Now you get my point?’

‘Just drive, Jake. And don’t miss the turn-off to the airport.’

Entering the airport, Jake stopped at several people who appeared to be innocuous travelers – some in business suits, others in casual wear. If Jake hadn’t pointed them out she would have never suspected that they were part of the team searching for Tess Middleton.

Jake’s cell rang. He listened without saying a word. Turning to Lucinda, he said, ‘Lindsey Barnaby is booked on an American Airlines flight to San Francisco. Terminal C, gate twelve.’

They power walked over toward the security line for the terminal and scanned the waiting faces. Commotion erupted at one of the desks where TSA checked identification. A woman argued with the man at the podium and tried to jerk her passport out of his hand. Another uniformed man moved quickly in that direction. Suddenly, the woman broke free, turning toward Lucinda and Jake, revealing her identity: Tess Middleton.

She loped off back into the terminal with the pair hot on her heels. Lucinda’s height helped her see above the mass of moving bodies. She shoved them to the side as she fought against the crowd moving straight at her. She thought she lost Tess then spotted her again, slipping into the ladies’ restroom.

She signaled to Jake and dashed in after her. She looked around the room. No one in the open was Tess. She looked under the door of the first cubicle. She saw two pairs of legs – one adult, the other a child. The child jabbered away at someone she called ‘Mommy.’ Behind the next door, she saw a pair of legs with jeans draped around the ankles and moved on to the third one.

She saw no sign of occupancy. She pulled gently on the handle. Locked. Her heart pounded in her chest. Outside the restroom, she heard the sound of voices. Someone – probably Jake and maybe others – were blocking entry. Women’s raised voices whined and objected. She moved to the fourth door. She saw a pair of legs and high-heeled shoes that could belong to Tess. The fifth cubicle appeared empty. She pulled on the door. It opened revealing nothing more than a vacant space with a toilet. The sixth space was occupied by a woman with dark legs. Not Tess.

She had two doors to consider. One was harmless. The other was her quarry. Her quarry was cornered. Could she be dangerous? Possibly. She would have to wait until everyone else left the room. She placed her hand on her gun but didn’t pull it out – she didn’t want to alarm anyone knowing their reaction could give an edge to Middleton.

The woman and a little girl exited their stall. The child looked at Lucinda and stopped chattering. Her mouth fell open and she stared at Lucinda’s face. Lucinda smiled.

‘Becca,’ the woman said. ‘It is not polite to stare. Come wash your hands.’ She gave Lucinda an apologetic smile.

Lucinda shrugged in response. A teenager wearing jeans walked out of the second door and a woman of color left the sixth space – now only the two suspicious stalls remained. Lucinda wanted to pull her gun but still she waited. She heard the sharp clatter of the door latch being jerked back. Lucinda held her breath. The fourth cubicle door opened slowly. Lucinda grasped the handle of her gun and flipped off the safety.

Emerging, the woman recoiled at the intensity of Lucinda’s stare. She sidled past the booths and left without washing her hands. Lucinda pulled her gun. What now? She suspected whoever was in cubicle three would see her feet wherever she moved. Sneaking into the adjacent booth and aiming over the transom at her was not a reasonable option. She got into shooter’s stance with the barrel of her gun pointing at the door and the occupant beyond it. ‘Tess Middleton, I know you are in that booth. Come out with your hands on top of your head.’

No word was spoken. No movement made.

‘If you don’t come out of that cubicle, I am coming in. You may be hurt when I kick in the door. Please come out now.’

Still no response.

‘There are FBI agents and police officers outside of the restroom door. You have no options left, Middleton.’

When silence filled Lucinda’s pause, she raised up her leg and slammed the sole of her foot into the center of the door. Metal screeched, the door slammed backward and a woman screamed.

‘How dare you? Do you know who I am? I have a right to privacy. What do you think you’re doing?’

Lucinda grabbed Tess by the back of the collar, spun her around and pressed her face against the cubicle wall.

‘You will regret this. You let me go immediately or I am pressing charges.’

‘You do that, Middleton,’ Lucinda said as she snapped a cuff around one wrist and jerked Tess’s other arm behind her back.

‘Unhand me. I am a candidate for the United States Senate.’

Lucinda clicked the other cuff home and jerked on the chain between to pull her out of the booth.

‘I am the head of a major corporation. You can’t abuse me and get away with it. I will sue and you will lose your job.’

‘Oh, really, are you accepting applications at Scott Technologies?’ Lucinda said as she pulled open the door to the hall and shoved Tess out in front of her.

Tess spotted a man in a TSA uniform. ‘Officer, arrest this woman! She assaulted me in the restroom stall.’

The man looked away from her.

‘I’ve got your badge number,’ she shrieked at him. ‘When I’m senator, you’re toast.’ Tess continued to bellow, threaten and cajole anyone who would listen all the way outside to a waiting marked police vehicle.

‘Damn, I wish that woman would shut up,’ Jake said.

‘I’m sure she will right after she asks for a lawyer.’

FIFTY-EIGHT

L
ucinda and Jake entered the interrogation room where Tess Middleton waited with a scowl on her face. Lucinda stifled a laugh thinking about how much Tess’s political opposition would love to get their hands on a photograph of Middleton with that sour expression on her face.

‘Ms Middleton . . .’ Lucinda began.

Tess held up a hand. ‘You can stop right there. You do not need to read me my Miranda Rights. I will tell you right now that I want my attorney and will not answer your questions until he is here with me.’

‘Nonetheless, ma’am,’ Jake said, ‘we need to go through the proper steps in the process.’ He read from a sheet of paper as Tess looked away from him.

When he finished she turned back and glared. ‘You will be sued for false arrest, police brutality and defamation of character.’

‘Ms Middleton,’ Jake said, ‘we are holding you on charges related to the counterfeit passport you attempted to use at the airport.’

‘You didn’t find that alleged counterfeit passport in my possession. I want to call my attorney now.’

Jake and Lucinda looked at each other and rose to their feet. ‘The deputies will arrange for your call as soon as you’re transferred to the county jail.’

‘I want to speak with him right here.’

‘This is not your corporation and we are not your employees,’ Lucinda said. ‘You are under arrest and will be treated like any other prisoner in the system. You are not special here, Ms Middleton. And until you appear before a judge to argue about bail, you will remain behind bars – and I imagine that the judge won’t be too keen about letting you out since you have already proven your willingness to flee the jurisdiction.’