Dead Ringer (8 page)

Her
career was heading in the direction she wanted. Her house was coming together.
And now Brett was trying to dig up the past.
The past
.
Every time she turned around the past stalked her.

She
climbed into the front seat and handed Mike a sticky note with an address.
"Let's head here first."

Mike
glanced at the address and put the car in gear. He knew the metro area like the
back of his hand and rarely needed a map. "So who's there?"

"That
woman found by the river on Tuesday. We have her name. This is where her
husband lives."

"Cool."

For
some reason the casual word irritated her. "Cool. We're covering a woman's
murder."

He
glanced at her as he drove through the parking lot. "What's got your panties in
a twist? She's a story, Kendall. Just like all the other stories we've
covered."

Indignation
burned. "She was a person."

He
pulled out onto Broad Street. "Why's this chick so different?"

Kendall
tightened her jaw. She didn't have an answer for him. "I don't know."

"Well,
figure it out. The last thing I need is for you to go all soupy on me."

He'd
thrown down a glove, knowing nothing sharpened her focus more than a direct
challenge. "I'm not soupy--ever."

"That so?"

Mentally,
she dug in her heels. "Watch and learn.

Jacob
parked the car in front of Phil White's town house. The air had turned warmer
and temps were expected to top forty today. The ice from the storm had melted
and almost all signs of the weekend snow were gone. Good.
One
step closer to spring.

Jacob
tucked his keys in his pocket. He surveyed the town house trying to absorb
details. Well maintained.
Neat.
It looked normal
enough.

But
Jacob's own mother had taught him early on that the walls of a house could hide
a multitude of sins.

"You
want to do the talking?" Zack asked.

"Yes."
He'd not been able to get this victim out of his mind. She'd lived a
by-the-book life. No drugs.
Hardworking.
No dabbling
in risky behavior. And yet someone had murdered her. All the signs pointed to a
domestic situation.

Jacob
and Zack strode up to the simple front door. Jacob knocked.

At
first there was no sound from inside the town house. Jacob then pounded the
door. This time they received a gruff, "Just a minute."

"You're
messing with his beauty sleep," Zack said.

Jacob
flexed his right hand. "I'm going to do more than that."

Footsteps
thudded. The door snapped open.

Standing
in the threshold was a midsize guy wearing a gray college T-shirt, sweatpants,
and a couple days' growth of beard. His thick dark hair was brushed back,
emphasizing rounded cheeks and bushy eyebrows over dark eyes.

The
man sniffed. "What do you want?"

Jacob
pulled out his badge. "We're looking for Phil White."

"That's
me." White frowned. "What do you want?"

"Can
we come in?" Jacob asked.

White
shook his head. "If you've got something to say you can say it out here."

Jacob
didn't want to do this on a doorstep. "Can we come in?" he asked again.

"No."

So
be it. Jacob lowered his voice. "The body of Jackie White was found on Sunday."

White's
jaw dropped. "What? Jackie White? My wife is dead?"

Jacob
nodded. "Yes."

The
color drained from the guy's face and he stepped to the side. "Come in."

The
place was sparse, typical bachelor. La-Z-Boy recliner, wide-screen TV, pizza
boxes on the kitchen counter. Jacob would bet the freezer only saw frozen meals
and the fridge beer and leftovers. There was a fireplace but it looked as if it
had never been used.

White
looked up at Jacob. Tears glistened in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Jacob
nodded. "Yes.

White drug a trembling hand through his hair.
"How?"

Jacob
ignored the question. "You two were separated?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Eighteen
months."

"You
two fought at Christmas?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

White
swallowed. "That's personal."

"We
need to know."

"She
refused to give me a divorce."

Neither
Jacob nor Zack spoke.

White
filled the silence. "I tried to work it out with her. I really tried. But she
hated sex.
Refused to touch me.
Was I supposed to live
the rest of my life like a monk?" He tipped back his head to stop the flow of
tears. "Why are you asking these questions? How did she die?" he asked. "Was it
some kind of accident?"

"No,
it wasn't an accident." Clearing his throat, Jacob said in a deliberately
softer tone, "Do you know of anyone who would want to kill Jackie?"

White
shook his head. "She was a saint. She donated her time to every cause out
there. Everyone liked her."

"Did
she have any boyfriends?" Zack asked.

White
barked out a half laugh. "No."

"Are
you sure?"

"Yeah.
That's one of the things we fought about in
December. I told her she needed a man. She said she didn't need a man. She was
married to me." He dropped his head into his hands and started to weep. "God, I
shouldn't have yelled at her."

Zack
cleared his throat. "Is there anyone we can call to come stay with you?"

"No."
He swiped tears from his cheeks. "No. I've got it under control."

Jacob
glanced around the apartment looking for any signs of pink carpeting. There was
nothing. But then if White had killed her it made sense that he wouldn't do it
here.

White
brushed another tear from his cheek. "How come I haven't seen anything on the
news?"

"You
are her legal husband--next of kin. We are required to tell you first before we
release information to the media."

White
started to weep again. The front doorbell rang and White woodenly moved toward
the door and opened it.

Jacob
swallowed an oath when he saw Kendall Shaw standing in the doorway.

"Mr.
White, my name is Kendall Shaw. I'm with Channel Ten News."

Jacob
strode toward the door. His gaze lingered on Kendall. For a split second his
gut clenched with an unquenchable craving. "This is a bad time, Ms. Shaw."

Kendall's
gaze told him she was as surprised to see him as he was her. She shook it off.
"Mr. White, my condolences to you concerning your wife."

White
glared at Jacob. "I thought the press didn't know."

Jacob
swallowed an oath. How the hell had she found out? "They're not supposed to."

"I
only just found out," Kendall said. "I'd like to talk to you about your wife."

Before
White could answer, Jacob reached for the door and closed it.

Forty-five
minutes later, Jacob and Zack left White with bloodshot, tear-filled eyes.
They'd learned he'd been hunting with buddies the last few days.

Kendall
was waiting outside the apartment. The cold outside had turned her face a
bright pink. She moved toward them, her stride confident. "I'd love to talk to
you about this case, detectives. Do you have a few minutes to spare?"

Jacob
speared her with his gaze. "Who gave you the victim's identity?"

She
shrugged.
"A source."

"Who?"

"I
won't say."

Jacob
muttered an oath and both detectives started moving.

Fast-clicking
heels told them she had to hustle to keep up with them. "I've been on the phone
for an hour with friends and neighbors of the victim. They all say she was a
great person.
Any ideas how she ended up dead by the river?"

Jacob
tossed her a glance. "Leave Phil White alone, Ms. Shaw. He's upset right now."
He wasn't as concerned about White as he was about Kendall mucking with his
investigation. White certainly played the part of the grieving husband, but
Jacob had learned long ago not to take anything at face value.

"You
can't stop me from talking to him," she said.

"No,
I can't. But the guy is a wreck. Show some humanity." Jacob and Zack got into
Jacob's car and Jacob fired up the engine.

He
looked up and noticed Kendall was crossing the parking lot to the news van. She
started talking to the cameraman, who didn't seem to like what he was hearing.
The two got into the van.

So
she wasn't pushing the interview today? That was a surprise.
Points
for her.
But he knew her well enough to know she'd be back.

"Damn
her."

Zack
shrugged. "She can be a pain, but you've got to admit she's good at what she
does."

"I
don't have to admit squat."

Zack
studied Jacob. "It's not like you to get so pissed at reporters. They've got a
job to do, like us."

Jacob
tightened his hands on the wheel. "She takes it too far."

"Not
today. She's backing off."

"She'll
be back sooner than later."

A
grin tugged the edges of Zack's mouth. "She's gotten under your skin."

"Bullshit."

Zack
laughed.

"What's
so funny?" he growled.

Amusement
danced in his partner's eyes. "You remind me of me when I had it so bad for
Lindsay and she wouldn't give me the time of day."

"That's
crap. This woman just annoys me."

Zack
grinned. "Oh, I
know
."

Jacob
shook his head and put the car in gear. "Shut up."

Zack's
phone rang at that moment and he answered it. His smile faded and he nodded
grimly as he scribbled a memo in his notebook. He hung up. "They found Jackie
White's car off of West Broad Street. Vega's getting a warrant and will meet us
at the scene."

Jacob
pulled into traffic. He was grateful he could push Kendall from his thoughts.
Twenty minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a big-box store and he
and Zack walked to the marked police car parked next to a black Jetta located
in a remote corner. The sun was dipping lower and the air temps had dropped.
The air cut through them like a knife.

Jacob
and Zack exchanged words with the patrolman, who said, "Detective Vega and
forensics will be here any minute. Vega has the warrant."

"Thanks."
Jacob shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to the Jetta, Zack
following him. Inside, there was a box of tissues on the front seat, white
plastic grocery bags full of groceries, and a spare pair of tennis shoes on the
back floorboard.

"I
don't see her purse," Zack noted.

"No."

Zack
glanced around the parking lot. "What about surveillance cameras?"

"I'll
ask the manager."

"She's
chosen an isolated corner."

"The
woman who worked in the cubical next to Jackie's said Jackie liked to park far
from the store entrance so she could get a little extra exercise."

"I'd
bet money he snatched her from the parking lot," Zack said.

"Yeah."
Jacob rubbed his hand over the thickening
stubble on his chin. He studied the trail from the car to the store entrance.

Zack
shoved out a breath. "What could he have said to her so he could get close enough?"

"He
could have offered to carry her groceries, asked for the time, or feigned car
trouble."

"Why her?"

"Who
the hell knows"?

Watching
Kendall Shaw on the news each night had become a ritual. The day just didn't
feel right if Allen didn't see her.

He
leaned forward on his workbench and turned the volume up on the small TV
mounted on the shelf above. Kendall grinned back at him. Her soft voice soothed
his nerves even if what she had to say wasn't always so pleasant. If not for
her he'd not have bothered with the news. Most of it was hype and made-up crap
slapped together by the networks to get ratings. No one cared about the truth.

Kendall
walked about the studio. Her long, lean body moved with the confidence of a
queen. Her gaze turned serious when she revealed Jackie White's identity. The
camera cut away to interviews she'd done with a neighbor and a coworker. Both
seemed sad over the loss of Jackie--Ruth. His throat tightened. He understood
that loss. He missed her too.

Allen
was glad now he'd sent that text message to Kendall.