Lethal Legacy (22 page)

“True,” Amy said. “According to Chea's friend, she bought a blue Honda not too long ago.
I've got a license number of ATY434; I also have a serial number."

“Didn't our witness to the hit-and-run say the license number contained an A and a 4?”
B.J. asked.

“That's right."

“But he also said a man was driving.” B.J. tugged the edge of his mustache. “So someone
in Wheeler had access to her car."

“Looks that way.” Amy switched her attention to Jed. “Did my father tell you the tire
tracks I cast match those of the Honda?"

“Yes."

She made a small check mark on her list. “Dad, I don't mink I mentioned that it appeared
as if the vehicle might have gotten mired in the mud."

“Aha! The killer may have been forced to leave the body in the car until he and his
accomplice could get the vehicle out.” He nodded and stroked his beard. “He killed her
and left her lying on the rear seat"

“What did the stain show?” Amy said as she scribbled down the information.

“Body fluids soaked through to the padding. Type A blood. I sent out for a PCR."

She shifted on her chair, but a change of position didn't ease the ache in her back.
“Anything else new?"

“A DNA report came in. Mai was raped by two men."

“Oh, God.” She gripped the edge of the table. “Cam wasn't one of them, was he?” She
waited impatiently while the waiter served their dinner.

“No,” B.J. said with a kindly expression. “The DNA of saliva taken from the cigarette
butts we found in the woods were from the same two men. And the tissue from under her
fingernails matched one of them.” He made a face. “Now all we need is a couple of
suspects."

“Have either of you seen an Asian man with a scar on the right side of his face?"

B.J. paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “What about him?"

“I saw him in a cocktail lounge in Chinatown.” She frowned and searched her memory again.
“I'm certain I've seen him before."

“So you spent the day in a cocktail lounge.” Jed emptied his glass and signaled for a
refill. “No wonder you're so tired."

Amy caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, meaningfully. “Did you hear from Cam?” she
asked, hoping to keep his attention on the case.

“Me hear from a man who expects me to save him from death row? Don't be ridiculous.
Apparently, I'm pretty marginal to this entire case."

“That's not true, Jed."

“It isn't? Would you care to give me your interpretation,
Doctor
?"

B.J. lay his napkin beside his plate and got to his feet. “You'll have to excuse me,
kids, I've got some work to finish."

Amy turned to him with an angry expression. “Dad!"

“See you in the morning, Amy."

Amy clenched her teeth. There ought to be a law against fathers who played cupid.

Jed leaned across the table. “What do you think I am? A dirty old man? You don't have to
bring your father along to keep me from touching you."

Amy set down her fork. “This isn't working out, Jed. Perhaps it would be better if you
contacted another investigator."

“I don't want anyone else, dammit. I want you."

“No, you don't. You're rebounding from a divorce and you're trying to fill the void."

“I just want to hold you."

She shook her head. “That isn't enough for you and you know it.” She massaged her
throbbing forehead. “I'm going through a pretty traumatic time myself. I don't have the
strength to cope with your emotional needs as well as my own."

“Am I that hard to take?"

“No, of course not. You're an attractive man. I'm sure a dozen women in this room would
be glad to go home with you."

“Then why won't you?"

“I told you why this morning.” She tossed her napkin on the table and stood up.
“Evidently we can't keep this relationship on a professional basis. I think you'd better
get someone else."

“I'm sorry.” He gazed at her with a stricken expression. “Please stay, Amy. I've had a
bit too much to drink, I guess. I promise I'll stick to business."

Damn!
She sank back onto the chair. When she got home, her father was going to get
an earful.

Amy gathered an arm load of towels from the top of the drier, trudged
into the bedroom, and began to fold them. The previous night had been a replay of
countless evenings she'd spent with her ex-husband. She'd sat in the lounge at the Cove
until twelve o'clock, listening to Jed's tearful story of his failed marriage. Then
she'd taken him home because he was too drunk to drive.

She stowed the towels in the linen closet, got dressed, and tried to quiet her quivering
nerves. Today, she'd be interviewing the two women who'd answered her newspaper ad for a
nanny.

The first one she'd arranged to meet at ten. The second one's appointment was this
afternoon.

Upon realizing the wrong type of live-in nanny might be as abrasive as a bad marriage,
she'd given the interviews a lot of thought, and decided to try a two-part system.
First, they'd meet in a neutral setting just to talk so she could get an impression of
whether or not the woman fit her qualifications. If the applicant passed the initial
test, she would arrange a second meeting at the apartment for an in-depth conference to
make certain she and the woman were compatible.

On her way out, Amy stopped in the office to talk to her father. She found him at the
computer. “Were you able to learn anything about the piece of cloth?"

“The athletic club does its own laundry. They send garments to a seamstress in Wheeler if
they need mending."

“Great. Did you talk to her?"

“I tried, but the lady and I had a language barrier. She was also obviously
terrified."

“Then she's not any more likely to talk than the man who witnessed the hit-and-run."

“What about asking your friend Hue to speak to her? The woman might tell her things she
wouldn't tell us."

“It's worth a try. Anything else?"

B.J. grinned. “After I made a few threats, Fenwick dug up a worn shirt for fabric
comparison.” He rubbed his hands together. “Matched our scrap exactly, right down to the
polymer fibers."

“Fantastic.” She leaned against the edge of me desk and swung her leg. “I'd like to
discuss last night."

“Nice fellow, that Jed. Good personality. Sharp mind. He'll go places.” He shot a quick
glance in her direction. “Did you and he clear up your differences?"

“Jed's stubborn, opinionated, sexist, and he's got a quick temper."

“Ah ... you have similar personalities. That's a start."

She folded her arms. “He's just gone through a divorce and he drinks too much. I had to
drive him home and put him to bed."

“He'll straighten up. Any man might react that way under similar circumstances."

“Oh, really? After he ‘straightens up' will he stop trying to get me into bed?"

B.J.'s ears turned red. “Most men get around to that sooner or later, don't they?"

“Oh, they do, do they?” She slid off the desk and braced her hands on her hips. “How dare
you condemn me for having Nathan's twins, yet say it's all right for me to sleep with
Jed."

“I didn't mean it that way."

“Yes you did and don't you ever pull a stunt like last night again."

“But ... dammit, Amy, I only want to,"

“I know what your intentions are. Do I keep lining up middle-aged matrons for
you
to date?"

“I'm used to being alone.” He thrust out his chin. “I don't need anyone."

“That is a lie. You've never been alone. You've always had me either at home or only a
phone call away. If I left town, you'd be beating the bushes for a woman who'd move in
with you."

“See? You admit it yourself. Everybody needs a partner. Someone to share their joys and
triumphs with.” He regarded her with a crestfallen expression. “That's all I want for
you."

“Okay, but what about what I want, Dad? Shouldn't that be at least as important?” When he
only regarded her sadly, she turned and walked out of me office.

Tongue-and-groove pine and booths upholstered in brown calico gave the
Maple Leaf Café a cozy atmosphere. Amy located Madge Zimmer and took a seat across from
her. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Zimmer,” she said, and smiled warmly at the woman.

“I expected to be invited to your home.” Madge Zimmer tossed her head and not a hair
dislodged from the woman's lacquered blond coif. Her gaze traveled over Amy's woolen
hunter-green slack suit “I couldn't help wondering if there was something you didn't
want me to know."

“Not at all,” Amy said with forced cordiality. “I decided a less formal approach would be
better for the initial meeting.” She beckoned to a waitress. “Shall we have brunch?"

Amy ordered tea and a chicken salad. When Ms. Zimmer hesitated over the menu, Amy said.
“Order anything you like, I'm paying."

The woman chose sliced roast sirloin of beef with a wine glaze and chocolate cake for
dessert.

“Are you married?” Amy asked as they started on their salads.

“Not anymore.” Ms. Zimmer pulled her lips into a tight line. “And good riddance. No sense
of responsibility. Took off the minute the children got out of high school. Left me with
nothing but a house and a beat-up car."

“Well, you still have your children.” Amy poured cream into her tea.

A drop of cream landed on the tabletop and Ms. Zimmer wiped it up before it even had a
chance to settle. “Humph,” she said. “They're scattered to the wind. Never write. Don't
give a whit whether I'm alive or dead."

A chunk of chicken stuck in Amy's throat and she gulped water to get it down. “That's too
bad. Maybe they'll visit when they have families.” She pulled a ceramic container toward
her and extracted some sugar substitute. Before she had the corner torn off the packet,
Ms. Zimmer had restored both the sugar and cream to its proper place.

Ms. Zimmer finished her salad and started on the entree. “My daughter has a boy three and
a girl two."

“That's nice. I'll bet you enjoy them."

“I might if she'd discipline them once in a while.” Ms. Zimmer used her knife to separate
baby carrots from asparagus tips and the asparagus tips from her sliced sirloin. “They
run through the house whooping and yelling like a bunch of Indians."

Amy set down her teacup and laid her crumpled napkin on the table. “Thank you for your
time, Ms. Zimmer. I believe I've learned all I need to know.” She stood up. “I'll get
the check."

On the way home, a feeling of hopelessness came over her. If Madge Zimmer was the type of
woman who thought herself qualified to care for children, she'd never find the right
person.

When she arrived at the office, her father was gone and the red light on the answering
machine was blinking.

She pushed the button and her heartbeat quickened at the sound of Nathan's voice. “Amy,”
he said, his deep mellow voice drawing out the syllables in a way she'd grown accustomed
to. “You're in danger. Call me tonight at eight."

After replaying the tape three times just for the pleasure of hearing Nathan's voice, she
erased it and sat down at the computer to finish typing her case progress notes.

She had scarcely gotten started when the phone rang. Annoyed at the interruption, she
snatched up the receiver and said curtly, “Prcscott and Prcscott, forensic
investigators."

“Amy, this is Captain Morelli. I've got the results on those fingerprints you brought
in."

“Your department is super efficient. Captain."

“We aim to please,” he said and laughed. “The prints found on the seat adjustment lever
and the Honda's steering wheel are the same as your suspect number one. Those taken from
the sides and trunk of the car match those of suspect number one and suspect number two.
So your two perps were also involved in the second woman's death. However, APIS still
doesn't have a thing on either one of them."

“How about our Jane Doe?"

“Oh yes, let's see...” Amy heard the sound of shuffling papers. “Here it is. No wonder I
didn't remember the name, it's an odd one. Your Jane Doe is a Miss Chea Le."

Amy sat at a corner table in a deli on the fringe of the Thaxton
University campus, watching students rush in and out She studied each girl, wondering if
she could be the person the university counselor had called her about as a possible
nanny for the twins.

She focused on a young woman standing just inside the front door, her shoulders hunched,
her eyes downcast. Amy recognized the stance. God knows it'd taken her long enough to
break herself of that self-conscious posture.

Her attention shifted to an impromptu touch-football game going on outside the window.
Rain clouds had given way to sunshine. The fair weather seemed to have put everyone in
high spirits.

A tremulous voice broke her out of her reverie. “Dr. Prescott?"

Amy looked up to find the woman she'd been watching moments before hovering near her
table. The tall, thin woman's straight black hair hung to the middle of her back and she
looked to be older than the other students Amy had seen.

Amy smiled at her. “Yes, I'm Dr. Prescott."

The young woman twisted her hands together. “I'm Mary Little Bear. My counselor said to
meet you here."

“Thank you for coming, Mary,” Amy said. “Would you like to talk here, or shall we
walk?"

Mary brushed her hair out of her eyes and peered around at the young people sprawled on
wooden chairs, all eating and talking at the same time. “It gets pretty noisy in
here."

Amy got to her feet, “Okay, let's walk. I haven't had my exercise for the day.” She
regretted the decision when she discovered that Mary was a fast walker. “Let's sit a
bit,” Amy said when she spotted a bench. “I'm afraid I'm out of shape.” She grinned at
Mary. “In more ways than one."