Authors: Cheryl Norman
“I don’t think you can move him to the top of your suspect list. Remember that we’re looking for an offender with forensic knowledge, someone savvy enough to submerge a body to accelerate decomposition. Mentally handicapped doesn’t fit the profile.”
“I didn’t think so but thought I’d ask.”
“You have to explore other possibilities. Remember, the profile is a tool. I’m not always right.”
“You usually are. I’ve seen your page on the Web site.”
“I’m flattered. You checked me out.” Instead of heading inside the building, she walked toward her car.
“Are you leaving now?”
“I’ve done all I can until we get ballistics tests and a trace from the FBI. But call me if anything new turns up.” She held out her hand to shake his. Again, she held on longer than he expected, and her gaze held interest. Her smile broadened. “Or just call if you want to talk.”
Talk about what?
He wasn’t mistaking her behavior as overly friendly. Charming, too, but not tempting. Nope. When he thought about temptation, he saw an image of a curvy English professor who hid behind glasses and drab clothing.
Releasing Ronda Lou’s hand, he opened the car door for her. “Thanks again for your help.”
Elizabeth’s foolishness had hit an all time high. After calling her handler that morning and explaining about her missing friend, she’d told him she would tell the sheriff her true identity. Wilson had the right to know. Special Agent Cory admonished her for making his job more difficult and told her to be ready to relocate. He doubted that the two disappearances related to her case, but at the first indication that her location was compromised he would come get her.
She left the campus as soon as she dismissed her last class, and stopped by Fox’s Apothecary on her way home. She needed to buy hair color to touch up her dark roots. The small store offered a limited number of shades, so she had to settle for a dark ash blond instead of medium ash blond. Before checking out, she grabbed a box of condoms, the only brand Fox’s carried, and added it to her purchase. Tonight she intended to bare her soul to Wilson, not her body. But still. After that one hot kiss last night, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. Or did buying rubbers further prove her a fool?
She had time for a color job and shower before Wilson arrived with their pizza. Her severely short haircut dried in a couple minutes. She checked out the new shade in the mirror and gasped. Dark ash blond did not lighten as much as she’d hoped. She looked too much like her old self, especially with the shaped eyebrows. Quickly, she grabbed her glasses and put them on, which helped with her disguise. Thirty-plus pounds also filled out her face as well as her body, changing her appearance a lot. Enough, she hoped.
She dressed in a tan T-shirt and khaki shorts then slipped on a pair of white exercise sandals, showing off the bright red pedicure she’d forgotten. In sharp contrast with the neutral colors she wore, the crimson toes stood out like a Christmas tree at a bar mitzvah. Would Wilson notice?
As if her thoughts conjured up the man, he called on the phone. “It’s going to be a tad later than I thought,” he said. “Is that okay?”
“Not a problem. I have some work I need to do on the computer, anyway.”
“I’ll call you when I leave Vinnie’s.”
She tidied up the dining room and set out plates and napkins for the pizza. Would she be leaving her furniture behind? Until that moment, she’d given little thought to what she’d abandon when she relocated. A year’s worth of shopping, painting, refinishing, and decorating would be left behind. Somewhere else she’d start again. At what point had she formed attachments and started to think of Drake Springs as her home?
No, this wouldn’t do. She needed to prioritize herself. Number one: stay safe. Furniture, clothes, and DVDs could be replaced. Friends? Well, she’d make new friends. She’d already lost Cathleen. Had she lost Kris, too? She’d really miss Sunny when she left. And Wilson. Leaving Wilson, not knowing if or when she’d see him again, left a hole in her heart as large as the one she’d suffered from leaving her family.
Damn. What did that mean? Had she begun to think of him as family? Did she love him? If so, she really was a glutton for punishment.
She booted up her computer on the desk in her spare bedroom, the one filled with books and plants but no furniture for visitors. What need did she have for a guest room? No one in her family knew where she was.
She browsed a few newspaper sites, then returned to her hometown newspaper. The Mustang Sally’s Garage ad in the sidebar proved irresistible, and she clicked on it. No updates since her last visit, but rereading the Web pages comforted her, as if she’d had a visit with Joe and Sally. The ringing of her telephone brought an abrupt end to her sentimental side trip.
“I’m turning onto your street, darlin’.”
“I’ll meet you at the front door.” Ending the call, she hurried to the door, calling herself seven kinds of fool for her eagerness. She had to tell Wilson the truth tonight and face the consequences, but that didn’t burst the bubble of excitement that buoyed her spirits.
Wilson arrived carrying an extra large pizza with a tantalizing aroma. “I got the works. Everything but anchovies.”
“You don’t eat anchovies?” She locked the door, then followed him to the dining table.
“Vinnie was out of anchovies.” He opened the box, treating her to a view of a supreme pizza covered in extra cheese.
“That’s just as well.” Anchovies weren’t a favorite topping. “Let me grab our drinks.”
“Coke’s fine with me. My mouth thinks I’ve swallowed a gallon of smoke from that Sticky Swamp fire out there.”
“Is there any progress on it?” She grabbed two cans from the refrigerator and brought them into the dining room.
“It’s finally contained, thank God. But the smoke is with us for a while.”
Her mind switched gears from the fire to her missing friend. “Before we eat, I need to ask about Kris.”
He pulled out a chair for her to sit. “I haven’t found her yet. I stopped by the high school and convinced the principal to give me her next-of-kin information. You said her parents were divorced, but she gave neither name on her application. Her next of kin was a brother, Jack Knight.”
She pulled the tab on her Coke. “She never mentioned a brother.”
“He’s on a cruise, compliments of the U.S. Navy. I doubt she’s gone to visit him. We’re trying to contact him, though, to track down her parents.” He opened his soft drink and took a sip.
“Wilson, this isn’t good. You and I both know she’s in trouble. She’s a responsible adult who wouldn’t disappear without telling someone—at least the principal or another teacher.”
“We’re doing all we can.”
She exhaled a loud breath. “I know you are. I’m just so worried.”
“By the way, didn’t you say you and your friends talked about personal safety strategies after Cathleen’s murder?”
“Yes, of course. Why?”
“Just wondering. I saw Sunny Davis bicycling north on County Road 12 past the high school.”
“By herself?” At his nod, she groaned. “I warned her about that. She’s very athletic and thinks she can take care of herself. But she’s flirting with disaster, especially now.”
He shook his head. “Well, darlin’, you can’t worry about her. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
She reached into the box for a slice of pizza and slid it onto his plate; then she took a slice for herself. “I’m as careful as I can be. But I thought Kris was, too.”
He took a bite of his pizza. “Did you hear the latest tropical update? The hurricane’s picked up speed and appears to be strengthening.”
“I hadn’t heard that. So is it headed this way?”
“I don’t think they know yet.”
“After we eat, we can check on the internet. I’m still logged on in my spare room.”
He nodded. They finished off the pizza without further conversation. Wilson stood and crumpled the box for the trash. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“Why don’t I do that while you check on that hurricane?”
“Deal.” He left the room but returned immediately. “What’s Mustang Sally’s Garage?”
Oh, no. She’d forgotten to clear her browser. Maybe this was the opening she needed to tell Wilson the truth. The pizza lay heavily in her stomach, and her heart sank with dread. “Let’s sit for a minute, all right? I have a lot I need to tell you, starting with Mustang Sally’s.”
Wil resisted the urge to take her in his arms. Unhappiness filled her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. Instead of grabbing her in a bear hug, he followed her to the sofa, where she sat at the opposite end and turned to face him.
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?”
She gave her head a slight shake. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“O—kay. Who are you?”
“First, I need you to promise to keep secret everything I’m about to say. Please, Wilson, it’s important.”
If it meant her confiding in him at last, he’d promise anything. “I swear, darlin’, I can keep a secret.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “I hope you can. It’s a matter of life and death.”
Whoa! Life and death? Several theories rushed through his mind, but he focused his attention on Elizabeth. “Tell me.”
“Mustang Sally’s Garage belongs to my brother’s wife in Louisville.”
“So you do have a living relative?”
“I lied about the house fire. I lost my family because I’ve been forced to go into hiding. As far as I know, everyone’s alive except my father.”
I have nothing left of my family or childhood
.
He’d figured out the fire was a tale when he’d found no report online of a tragedy fitting her story, but he wouldn’t admit to investigating her. “So you aren’t Elizabeth Stevens?”
An invisible rope of tension seemed to tighten her shoulders. “My real name is Sofia Desalvo, Fia to my friends.”
“Fia.” He tried out the name. It suited her, but so did Elizabeth.
“I witnessed a murder and have to testify against the ring leader of a syndicate of bookies.”
“Bookies? Maybe you better start at the beginning.”
She chewed at her lower lip. “After the murder of my father and the—”
“Your father was murdered?”
She nodded, her eyes filling. Bravely, she blinked away the tears. “That’s an unrelated story. After his death, I broke up with my fiancé because he betrayed me in the worst way—” She raised her hand in a halting gesture. “Don’t ask. I still can’t talk about it. Anyway, I was at loose ends.”
Saying nothing, he waited as she pulled herself together. He stifled his curiosity about her father’s homicide but yearned to know if he’d died from a gunshot wound. If so, it would explain her aversion to guns.
“As you’ve probably guessed, I was a veterinarian. I earned my DVM at Auburn—”
“Auburn? Were you a student when Cathleen Hodges went there?”
She shook her head. “Although she and I are about the same age, she entered veterinary school later. I told you the truth about meeting her when she treated Ian’s cat.”
“You were saying you were at loose ends?”
“Yes. My brother encouraged me to start my own practice. I love horses, but they’re difficult for the owners to trailer in for treatment. I saw a market niche in the Lexington area I could fill and
vóila!
Horse Calls was born.”
“Horse Calls
. Like a doctor who makes house calls?”
“Exactly.” For the first time since she’d begun her confession, she had enthusiasm in her voice. Her face glowed, as if she were reliving the excitement of starting her own practice. “I bought a van-type motor home, and Sally fixed it up for me. She made sure it was mechanically sound and modified it for storing my medicines and equipment. Plus, it had a bed over the cab, where I could sleep.”
“You slept in it, too?”
She shrugged. “I lived in it. It kept down expenses. Plus, sometimes I needed to stay over to watch a sick horse or to deliver a foal. The owners of the horse farms gave me a place to plug in and get water. I dumped my holding tanks at a campground near Lexington where I sometimes stayed.”
“Did you do well with the practice?”
She gave him a brief smile. “Better than I ever imagined. After only four months I had all the patients I could handle. I lived like a gypsy and got to be around horses. Life was good.”