A Dark Mind (26 page)

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Authors: T. R. Ragan

Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Suspense

BOOK: A Dark Mind
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“Do you think he targets couples because of a relationship gone bad?”

“I would guess that the unsub is lonely and has had continuous problems with lasting love. Maybe he doesn’t want others to have what he feels he’s been denied.”

“Any suspects?”

“Nobody specific. Caucasian. Single male. An introvert. A man in his thirties who likes to inflict pain because it makes him feel powerful and in control.”

She reached a hand to Jared’s shoulder and squeezed. His muscles were tight. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

“Are you going to fight me on hiring security?”

“No.”

Following the navigator’s instructions, he took the next exit. A few minutes later, they arrived at their destination. Jared shut off the engine and then looked at Lizzy and said, “It’s going to be OK. Me, you, Hayley, life…everything is going to be OK.”

Davis

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Before Jessica reached the entrance to Lizzy’s house, Hayley opened the door and said, “Lizzy and Jared left, let’s go.”

Jessica made an about-face and limped back toward her car while Hayley locked up the house.

“Something wrong?” Hayley asked as she caught up to her.

“No.”

“You’re usually all saccharine and gushy smiles.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re limping.”

“I’m not as good at jumping fences as you are,” Jessica said. “Did you tell Lizzy what we did last night?”

“No, she has enough problems right now.”

“What did Jared say when he saw Lizzy’s face?”

“He was upset with her. I have a feeling he’s going to be her shadow for a few days.”

“What do you think is going on? Break-ins, car crashes, weird bugs left in her office, and then she’s attacked in the park. It’s like Spiderman all over again.”

“She definitely attracts the weirdos,” Hayley said.

Jessica looked from her left to her right and then over her shoulder.

“What are you looking for, a hit man?”

That was exactly what Jessica was afraid she might see: a giant of a man with bulky arms, hands the size of melons, and shiny metal teeth like the guy in the Bond movies.

The man coming toward the model home last night had been scared off by the blaring sounds of the police sirens. When Jessica peered out the window again, both cars in the driveway across the street were gone. A few minutes after that, two patrol cars showed up. It took three uniformed officers only ten minutes to check out the house before they returned to their vehicles and drove away.

“You need to settle down,” Hayley said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Easy for her to say. Was Magnus OK? Jessica wondered. Had he driven away in one of the cars? She wished she had given Magnus her number, because then he might call. If she could at least hear his voice, she would know he was alive.

Jessica climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. It was Saturday. She should be sitting on a park bench reading a good book, or reorganizing her closet. Instead, she was headed for a strip joint with one of the surliest, most hardheaded people she’d ever met.

Hayley was grateful for the quiet while they drove on Highway 50 toward Rancho Cordova. During her last visit to the same city, Hayley had shown Adele’s picture around, and it wasn’t long
before she was told by a man working at a doughnut shop that Adele Hampton worked at Centerfold. He’d recognized Adele right away—not that the doughnut man ever went to Centerfold, of course, but because, apparently, as the man stated, “Adele was pregnant at the time and she really liked doughnuts.”

When Hayley did a search on the Internet, sure enough, Adele’s photo had been listed on the Centerfold website, and she was scheduled to dance this afternoon.

“Are you sure you only have to be eighteen to get into this place?”

“Positive,” Hayley said. “They don’t serve alcohol. It’s just a bunch of half-naked women walking around selling lemonade and sandwiches.”

“Wonderful.”

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to.”

“I can handle it.”

Hayley rolled the window down so she could get some air.

“Can I ask you something?” Jessica asked.

Hayley breathed in, filling her lungs with fresh air, before she said, “Sure.”

“Have you ever really felt strongly about a guy, someone you just met? Someone you hardly even knew?”

“You’re talking about Magnus, aren’t you?”

Jessica kept her eyes on the road as she nodded.

“You hardly know him and he’s obviously not the kind of character you want to get to know better.”

Jessica sighed. “I keep telling myself it’s crazy, but I’m worried about him. What if they hurt him last night?”

More silence.

“What if there are bodies buried in that garage?”

“Right now we need to stay away from that place and lie low. You could call the police again, but they’ve already been there
once and I don’t think they’re going to start jackhammering the garage floor based on what little you saw. You never gave Magnus your number, right?”

“No, but he did give me his number when we met in the coffee shop.”

“The business card he gave you was a fake, by the way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now. I called the number and it was disconnected. Then I did a quick search on the handyman business, and his name doesn’t exist. What did he tell you in the coffee shop? Was he expecting you to call him?”

“I’m not sure, I guess so,” Jessica said. “I don’t know if I can handle this—”

“Handle what?”

“Working for Lizzy. It’s dangerous and I don’t think I’m cut out for this type of work.”

“You can’t quit, Jessica. Not right now, not yet. Lizzy needs you. Tell me about the woman who hired Lizzy to watch Dominic Povo. Have you talked to her about everything that’s going on?”

“She’s in Europe for a few weeks.”

“Then let’s hold off on the Povo case until she returns. Until then, don’t go near the construction site and, whatever you do, don’t call the other number Magnus gave you. He could be dangerous.”

Carmichael

Saturday, June 2, 2012

The Dalton house was a two-story set in Carmichael off Clover Street. Michael’s mother, Mrs. Dalton, was in her seventies. Her eyes were kind, but the pain there was unmistakable. After introducing
her husband, Harold, she busied herself in the kitchen. Harold Dalton was short and stocky. His hair was more white than gray. His khaki pants were pulled high on his waist and his brown belt was cinched tight. Harold followed close at Jared’s heels as Jared made his way upstairs, giving Lizzy the perfect opportunity to cut to the right.

She opened the first door she came to and found herself inside the garage—an oversized room with plenty of workspace.

One corner of the garage was reserved for tools: a gray steel toolbox filled to the brim with nails, screwdrivers, and wrenches. A half wall above the workbench was covered with hammers and saws, all neatly hung. Most of the back wall was made up of open-wire shelving. She headed that way and began to search through the mishmash of items: endless piles of books, picture frames, paint supplies, holiday decorations. There were golf clubs to her left and bikes hanging from the ceiling to her right.

Lizzy looked at the only car parked inside the garage. It was the same one she’d seen parked in front of Jennifer’s office downtown. She opened the door, climbed in behind the wheel, and simply sat there for a moment. Then she opened the center console: gum, tissues, loose coins. She checked the glove compartment next. Neatly folded papers, owner’s manual, proof of insurance. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of place.

She climbed out of the car, shut the door, then moved to the rear and popped the trunk.

Empty and clean.

With a sigh, she moved to the door leading into the house and gave the garage one last look, her gaze slowly scanning the entire room. There was an attic marked by a wooden door with a pull-down chain. She would find out if they could move the car so she could climb up for a quick look. Next, her gaze fell on the shoe
rack by the door. Two rows of neatly placed shoes beneath a row of winter coats. There were hiking boots for him and her. Two pairs of women’s running shoes. One pair looked brand new. She leaned forward to get a closer look at the pink mesh and flex grooves along the length of the midsole. Something was stuffed inside.

She picked up the shoe. Those were not socks inside. Kneeling down, she turned the shoe over and gasped as dead pine sawyer beetles fell to the ground.

Rancho Cordova

Saturday, June 2, 2012

The Centerfold parking lot in Rancho Cordova was filled with eighteen-year-old boys loitering around. Nobody paid any attention to Jessica and Hayley as they made their way inside.

The cover charge was steep at twenty dollars each. No alcohol allowed, but there was unlimited lemonade and raspberry punch. In one of the booths, a guy was getting a private lap dance that really wasn’t very private. Jessica cringed.

There were two stages. The place was dank and dark and not overly crowded. She walked stiffly behind Hayley, who seemed perfectly at ease as they took a seat near the front of the first stage.

After the waitress took their order, Jessica did her best to keep her gaze straight ahead and away from the lap dance going on nearby. It wasn’t easy to ignore. “Why do guys come to these places?”

Hayley shrugged. “To hang with their buddies. To socialize. They can’t touch the girls, so the lap dances are a big tease.”

The waitress set two lemonades on the table and said she’d be back with the food in a minute.

“I’d rather live on the streets than work in a place like this.”

“These women are trying to earn a living like everyone else in the world,” Hayley said. “And they understand what men like and need. What’s the big deal?”

“I guess you’re right.” Jessica drank the lemonade they served, but ignored the food when it was brought to the table. She’d lost her appetite the moment she’d walked inside the place. Two different girls were dancing on stage, making Jessica blush. She wanted to find Adele Hampton and get out of here. The walls were covered with eleven-by-fourteen pictures of the strippers who danced at the club. The music was loud techno remixes of popular songs of the day.

“That’s her,” Hayley said.

Jessica looked up and saw a new girl on the stage in front of them. Hayley waved a twenty-dollar bill at the girl, making Jessica even more uncomfortable.

The girl climbed down the stairs and approached Hayley.

“Is your name Adele?” Hayley asked.

“Who wants to know?”

“We do. This is Jessica and I’m Hayley.”

Adele took the twenty and slipped it between her breasts, where it disappeared completely. “I’m Adele. Enjoy the show.”

Hayley pulled out another twenty. “Your mom is looking for you.”

Adele rolled her eyes and started to turn away again without bothering to touch the second bill that Hayley held outward.

“Your biological mom,” Hayley added, “not the one who raised you.”

Adele turned to face Hayley again. “Does she know I work here?”

It was hard for Jessica to tell if the girl was worried or excited.

“No,” Hayley said. “Nobody knows but the two of us.”

“Did she hire you?”

“Yes. We work for a private investigator in Sacramento.”

“Does she live in the area?”

“Your biological mom lives in New York, but she located your adoptive parents. When you used their credit card, you left an easy enough trail to follow.”

“It couldn’t have been that easy, since my parents didn’t find me.”

“They never looked,” Hayley said.

Jessica felt sick at how callous Hayley’s words sounded. The girl’s adoptive parents had never bothered to look for her. Adele tried to hide the hurt beneath a grunt and a smirk, but the pain and the sadness of it all was right there in her eyes, plain as day.

Adele spared Jessica a quick glance before she looked back at Hayley. “Do you know why I left?”

Hayley shook her head.

“I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared, and for the first time in my life, I think I understood why my mother gave me up.”

Hayley didn’t ask Adele to explain, Jessica noticed, she just waited patiently.

“I was told that my biological mother got pregnant at a young age. I never understood why she would give her baby up. I never wanted to understand it—not until it happened to me.” Adele tapped the table with her long, manicured nail. “My adoptive parents had big plans for me, high hopes. Harvard, Stanford, only the best for their little girl. God, I was such a bitter and angry little girl. They gave me everything. I gave them nothing in return. No, that’s not true. I gave them grief, plenty of grief. I don’t blame them for not looking for me. I wouldn’t have looked for me either. So,” Adele added after a short pause, “what’s next?”

“Did you have the child?” Jessica asked.

Adele smiled. “Yes, I did. She’s the sweetest little girl in Placer County.”

“I don’t get it,” Jessica said. “Your adoptive parents went to all the trouble of adopting you and raising you as their own, but they let you walk out of their life because you were pregnant?”

“They knew they had raised me better than that. I knew better, I just didn’t do better. I don’t blame them.”

“Do you want to meet your mother?” Hayley asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Hayley grabbed a napkin from the canister and scribbled her name and number on it. “If you decide you want to meet her, give me a call.”

Jessica wondered what Hayley was up to. That wasn’t part of the deal. If a client hired them to find somebody, that was that.

“Keep this, too,” Hayley said, handing her the other twenty.

Adele took the napkin and the money and walked off.

“You can’t keep this from Lizzy,” Jessica told her. “You have to tell her that you found Adele.”

“I can and I will keep it from Lizzy, and so will you, because it’s the right thing to do.”

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