Dead Ringer (6 page)

Jacob
pulled out his pad and noticed the kids were staring at him with wide eyes. He
nodded, not sure what someone was supposed to say or do with children that
small. "How long have you lived next to Ms. White?"

"Less than a year.
She moved in last summer after she
separated from her husband."

"Was
the separation friendly?" Zack asked.

A
crease furrowed her brow. "I don't think so. Her ex came by just before
Christmas. I think they had a fight, because he drove off real fast. I know
that because the boys and I were in the front yard stringing Christmas lights.
Honestly, that argument was playing in the back of my head when I saw the
newspapers."

"Do
you know her husband's name?" Jacob asked.

She
thought for a moment. "Phil White, I think." The baby started to squirm so she
put him down on the floor. That made him fuss louder so she picked him up again
as she glanced at the boiling pot on the stove. "Is Jackie all right?"

"That's
what we're trying to figure out," Jacob said. "Do you have a picture of her?"

"Yeah."
She went into the kitchen, shut off the stove,
and pulled the pot of pasta off the burner before moving to a refrigerator
covered with dozens of snapshots, drawings, and reminder cards. The toys, the
bubbling pot, and the general chaos had a homey charm Jacob feared and envied.

Betty
flipped through a stack of pictures held together by a clip magnet. On the
bottom she found a picture taken last fall. "This was taken at Halloween. I
took a picture of the kids with Jackie. She was our first stop on our
trick-or-treat route.
Custom-made bags of candy for the
kids."

The
woman pictured with the tiny Spiderman and black ninja had shoulder-length dark
hair streaked with some gray. She wore an orange sweater, a huge smile and
cradled a large bowl of safety suckers.

This
was Jackie White. The contrast between this picture and the woman he'd seen by
the river caught him a little short. This woman was so full of life.
Radiant.

There
was no charm around her neck, but the sweater could have been covering it. Again,
he was reminded of Kendall Shaw. "Did she ever mention a Ruth?"

Betty
thought for a moment. "No."

"It
could have been a nickname," Zack prompted.

The
baby reached for her nose but she shooed it away. "Maybe, but I never heard the
name mentioned."

"What
about a mother, a sister, an aunt?" he prompted again.

"I
don't think so. She didn't have family. I mean her parents were older and
they'd passed. And she'd mentioned once that she was an only child."

"What
can you tell me about her?" Zack asked.

"She
was always nice to me. And she loved the kids and kept her yard up." The last
statement prompted an
embarrassed
grin. "I liked her
but with the kids I don't have a lot of time to socialize. And she was always
volunteering at her church."

"You
know the name of her church?" Jacob asked.

She
thought for a moment. "First Methodist in Glen Allen, I think."

Zack's
face looked grim. "You said her husband's name was Phil White?"

"Yes."

Jackie
had been strangled. Strangulation was a very intimate form of murder that required
close contact. And her clothes had been intact as if someone wanted to preserve
her dignity. It wasn't uncommon for an angry husband to suffer remorse after he
killed his wife. "Did she have any other friends, family, visitors?" Zack
asked.

"Sorry,
I really don't know." On cue, the four-year-old struck a ninja pose and then
kicked a kitchen chair. Betty glared at him and then smiled apologetically at
Jacob and Zack. "It's bad not to know who your neighbors are. But honestly,
there are days when I don't know up from down."

"Do
you have a spare key to her house?" Jacob asked. "I'm going to call for a
search warrant and it would be nice if we didn't have to break in."

She
smiled.
"That I can help you with."
She moved to a
drawer by the stove and opened it. It was crammed full of miscellaneous junk
that didn't belong anywhere. She dug through the mess for a good minute before
she found the key attached to a Texas-shaped key chain. "Here it is."

Jacob
accepted the key. "Thanks." He took Betty's full name, address, and phone
number.

Her
face looked pale now. She glanced at her kids, who hadn't missed a word. "Has
something b-a-d happened to Jackie?"

Jacob
attempted a half smile, but he doubted it was very comforting. "I really can't
get into the details until I've spoken to her husband."

Worry
deepened the lines around her eyes. "But you'll let me know?"

Jacob
saw the earnestness in her eyes. "We'll be in touch." He handed her back the
picture.

"Keep
it if you think it will help."

He
nodded and pocketed the picture. "Thanks."

The
two detectives strode out of the warm house into the bracing cold. They
returned to their car, called their sergeant with a report, and began the
process of getting a search warrant.

Twenty
minutes before the six o'clock newscast, Kendall leaned forward into the makeup
lights that lined the vanity mirror and finished applying her lipstick. She'd
always done her own makeup, having learned some of the best tricks of the trade
when she'd modeled in college. She blotted her lips on a tissue and inspected
them with a critical eye.

Since
her visit to the crime scene today, Kendall had reviewed the tape Mike had shot
and she'd written copy. The piece wasn't going to be more than thirty seconds
because there just wasn't much to say. She'd spoken with the surveyor who'd
found the body but he couldn't tell her much other than the body was female.
Then she spent several hours calling contacts at the medical examiner's office
and the police department but no one was talking.
Frustrating.

Tonight's
lead story would be the construction on I-64. The other pieces included
post-holiday credit card debt, homes still without electricity after the Sunday
storm, and hot vacation spots. Her Jane Doe would be third on the story lineup.

Kendall
fluffed her hair, picked up her copy for the evening newscast, and headed
toward the hallway to the studio. The station, one of the oldest in the region,
was in the midst of a massive renovation. Walls were being torn out in the
front of the building; carpet was being pulled; and new, brighter paint colors
were being applied. The construction had made for a hectic few months, but the
station manager had said the changes were necessary. The building, wiring, and
broadcasting equipment were out of date. He'd promised the work would be
completed by summer.

The
renovation was a pain but the good to come out of it was her carpenter. He'd
worked on this job briefly and had come recommended by the job's project
manager.

Kendall
worked her way down the winding hallway and pushed through the doors into the
newsroom. The buzz of conversation greeted her. The news station was quiet most
of the day, but with ten minutes to airtime, controlled chaos ruled.

Computerized
editing stations divided the newsroom's large square footage. Reporters used
the stations to write and edit their stories. In the far right corner was the
blue screen designed to project weather maps. In another corner was the setup
for AM Virginia, the station's morning show.

Most
visitors were surprised when they first toured the station. They found it was
always much smaller than they expected.

On
her suggestion, they'd done away with the traditional anchor desk. Instead, she
gave her reports from the center of the newsroom. Brett had been resistant at
first but quickly discovered the new format gave the broadcast more energy. And
the change had reflected in the ratings. Viewers felt Kendall was approachable
when she wasn't behind the desk.

"Kendall,
time to get fitted for your mike," Larry the soundman, who had worked at the
station for several years, alerted her.

She
moved toward him as she glanced at her copy on the murdered woman. Larry fit
the miniature microphone to the lapel of her suede jacket and ran the wire to a
battery at her waistband at the base of her spine.

Today, Henrico County Police responded to a 911 call at James River near
the proposed River Bend development where construction crews discovered the
body of an unidentified woman. Her body had been dumped and so far police are
speculating on the cause of death....

An unidentified
woman
.
The
phrase bothered her. The woman had a name and for some reason Kendall felt
remiss not knowing it.

"All
set," Larry said.

She
pulled her thoughts back. "Thanks."

"One
minute to air." The announcement came from the show's producer.

Her
belly fluttered, as it always did seconds before air. She didn't mind the
butterflies. They kept her on her toes.

"Thirty
seconds to air."

She
glanced at her producer and nodded.

An unidentified
woman
.
The
phrase lurked in the back of her mind as she stretched the muscles in her face.
When the police released her name, she was going to do a profile on the woman.

Her
producer did the final five
count
.

Kendall
moistened her lips and smiled.

The
unidentified woman wouldn't remain nameless and unknown. She would see to it.

Three...two...one.

"Good
evening. This is Kendall Shaw reporting for Channel Ten News, Richmond...."

Several
hours had passed before Jacob and Zack returned to Jackie White's house.

Jacob
slipped on rubber gloves before shoving the key in the lock. "I didn't see a
security company sign out front."

Zack
donned gloves. "We'll know for sure in a minute."

Jacob
twisted the lock open and pushed in the door. No alarm chime sounded. Jacob
flipped a switch by the front door. An overhead light clicked on.

The
room wasn't large and could easily have been cramped but Ms. White had
furnished the room modestly with an overstuffed yellow loveseat and a small
paisley chair. Three pillows neatly lined the couch. A small corner hutch
housed a TV. The room was perfectly neat with not a magazine out of place.
There was a fine coating of dust on the coffee table, but Jacob suspected it
wouldn't have been there if Jackie were alive.

"The
place is as neat as a model home," Zack said.

Jacob
glanced at the coffee table. Five Hollywood entertainment-style magazines were
stacked in a neat pile. Nothing in the room was overly expensive but it was all
kept in pristine condition. "She ran a tight ship."

They
moved into the kitchen and flipped on the lights. The refrigerator was off
white and neatly scrubbed, unlike the cluttered appliance in Betty Smith's
kitchen. The counters were clean, the dishes washed and put away; even the
stove looked as if it had just been cleaned. The cabinets were full of organic
products.

"I'd
say she was obsessed with cleanliness and her health," Zack sad.

"Yeah."
He moved to a small nook that had a box marked
"mail." "So how does she end up by the river, strangled?"

He
pulled out the mail and searched through the stack.
Electric,
cable, credit card.
All were up to date. And the name Ruth did not
appear on any of the bills. So far it appeared she'd lived her life clean and
simple and yet someone had brutally killed her.

"Time
to pay Mr. White a visit," Zack said.

Jacob's
jaw tightened and released.
"Yeah."

The
case had all the hallmarks of a domestic murder.
A pending
divorce.
A recent fight.
The
method of murder.
And yet Jacob's mind kept going back to the charm.
Ruth
.
Jacob wouldn't be satisfied until he found out who Ruth was.

"
Stop!
"

It
was just past two
A.M
. when
Kendall sat up in bed. Her heart hammered in her chest and
a
sheen
of sweat coated her body. For a moment her eyes searched the dark room
and she struggled to figure out where she was. Slowly the familiar registered
with her. This was her room, her bed.

She
dragged a shaking hand through her hair and glanced at the digital clock by her
bed. Two twenty-one. She'd been asleep just over an hour when the nightmare had
woken her.

"Damn."

This
dream was clearer and sharper than the others.

The
terrified screams of a faceless woman echoed in her ears. The unknown woman
begged for mercy and spoke of love as she wept.