Evidence of Marriage (2 page)

“Dryden Kane contacted us.”

Kane. An extra shot of acid added to his misery. He looked up, searching her face. “When?”

“He sent Sylvie a wedding gift. A family portrait of us as children.”

“Nice.”

“She's kind of upset.”

He could imagine. He knew Sylvie wouldn't
want his pity, but he couldn't help giving it all the same. The poor girl had grown up in foster homes, dreamed of having a family, only to discover her father was notorious serial killer Dryden Kane. To get this “gift” the day after her wedding had to be a blow. “How did the portrait arrive? Delivery service?”

She shook her head. “It didn't come in the mail either. The only thing I can figure is that he must have had someone drop it off at the reception last night.” She tensed her shoulders in a protective shiver.

Reed knew what she was thinking. The same thing he was. That someone who'd delivered the package might very well be the Copycat Killer, the serial murderer who had claimed three women's lives the past fall using the same techniques as Dryden Kane. The killer they believed was being controlled by Kane himself. “Do you have the portrait with you?”

Nikki pulled the cup away from her lips. “Fingerprints?”

He nodded.

Diana gestured at the street outside the café. “It's in my car.”

“Good. Nikki can take it over to the lab. They can lift the prints there. Maybe the frame will tell us something, too.”

“That's not all.” She dipped her hand into her
purse and pulled out a large plastic bag with a greeting card inside. She extended it to him.

“A card. I guess he must have read the etiquette books.” He opened the card a crack through the plastic-bag cover. Bold handwriting scrawled at the bottom of a wedding verse.
A father should have the privilege of walking his daughter down the aisle. I miss my girls. I look forward to your visit.

“I'll bet he does,” Reed muttered under his breath. The opportunity to emotionally torture his two beautiful adult daughters must be a dream come true for a sadist like Kane.

“There was a newspaper clipping about the Copycat Killer inside, too. It's tucked in the envelope.”

Manipulating the bag, he opened the envelope. The slightly yellowed shadow of newsprint peeked from inside. He shook it out into the bag. The headline was more than six months old, originating from around the first time the press had officially named the Copycat Killer. The killer hadn't killed since, at least not that they'd detected. But with summer here, Reed feared the total would start to rise.

The pain in his gut hardened to anger. Diana might not want him to take care of her anymore, but she'd have to accept certain precautions. “You and Sylvie need to move to a hotel for a few days.
I'll arrange for protection.” He braced himself for an argument.

Diana merely nodded. “I'm worried about Sylvie. She's pregnant.”

Pregnant. So they couldn't wait until the actual wedding to start their family. No surprise. Sylvie and Bryce were so in love and wanted a family so badly, he'd been amazed they'd put off marriage and babies for as long as they had.

The familiar ache bored into his stomach wall. Last October he would have bet the couple married and expecting would be him and Diana. How things had changed. “Aren't they planning a honeymoon?”

“She won't go. She says she doesn't want to leave me alone with this.”

“And Bryce?”

“He wants to get his hands on the man who killed his brother, naturally. But he intends to do what's best for Sylvie and the baby.”

“I'll see what I can do to convince her. And I'll have an officer assigned to you.” He handed the plastic bag to Nikki. “Have the lab check for prints ASAP, then I want it back. The portrait, too.”

Nikki set her coffee cup on the table and stood.

He glanced up at Diana, meeting her eyes for as long as he dared. “Is that all?”

“All Kane sent? Yes.”

“Then Nikki will go with you to get the portrait.”

Diana hesitated, watching him for a moment. “I need to talk to you.”

“Nikki can handle it.” He nodded to his partner, praying she'd help him out this time. He was at the end of his tolerance. He couldn't stand looking at Diana one more second and pretend she didn't mean anything to him, that he was just doing his job, working on a case like any other. “Go ahead.”

A knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips, Nikki made for the café door, her long, dark ponytail swinging down the middle of her back. “Save my seat.”

Diana paused a second longer before following. When she finally disappeared through the glass door, Reed lowered his head into his hands.

Even as an awkward teen with more pimples than confidence, he'd never found being near a woman this difficult. But then, it wasn't every day he had to face the woman he'd loved for five years, the woman he'd finally convinced to say “I do,” the woman who'd turned around and kicked his guts out.

Minutes passed as he delved into his stack of reports. He'd just reached the bottom of the first pile when the bell on the café door jingled, and the ache returned in full force. And as much as he wanted to blame it on the battery-acid coffee, he knew without looking up Diana was once again heading for his table.

“We need to talk.”

“Didn't Nikki take care of things for you?”

“I didn't come here just to hand over the portrait and card.”

Of course she didn't. She couldn't let him off that easily, after all. “Why
did
you come?”

“I want to help.”

“Help?”

She pulled out a chair and slid into it, plunking her elbows on the table. “I want to go to the prison. I want to talk to Dryden Kane.”

“And who is
that
going to help?”

She tilted her head and looked at him as if he were an idiot. “In the card, he wrote that he wants to see us, talk to us, then he put in a news clipping about the killer.”

“So you think he wants to talk to you about the Copycat Killer?”

“Don't you?”

“No.”

“Then why send the clipping?”

“You haven't seen him for months. Maybe he thought you could use a little incentive. Or maybe…” An extra shot of acid added to the swirl of pain in his gut.

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe it's a threat.”

He expected a reaction. She didn't give him one.

And he knew why. “Of course, you've already thought of that, haven't you? That's why you didn't object when I offered police protection.”

She averted her gaze, studying a crack in the Formica. “He sent the card to Sylvie. He wrote that bit about her wedding. I'm afraid for her.”

“You should be afraid for yourself, too.”

“I brought him into Sylvie's life and my own. I have to deal with him.”

“By running to visit him? How do you think giving him exactly what he wants is dealing with him?”

“If I can get him to talk to me, to tell me something, anything about the Copycat Killer, maybe you can use it to find him before he kills more women.”

“And Kane?”

“If you can get evidence tying him to the copycat, maybe you could justify sending him back into solitary confinement, no matter what kind of lawsuit he won against the department of corrections.”

Not a bad idea, except for the part about
her
talking to Kane. “I'm sorry, Diana. It's out of the question.”

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing the tabletop. “I know he refuses to talk to anyone. But he'll talk to me.”

“I'm sure he will.”

“What's the problem then?”

If she really didn't think asking
him
to agree to put her in danger was a problem, he sure as hell wasn't going to point it out. The last thing he needed was for her to cram his need to protect her back down his throat. It was a battle he couldn't win. “My lieutenant will never go for the idea.”

“I'll talk to him.”

“He's up to his neck in sewage today. I don't think he'll have time for a meeting.”

She narrowed her eyes, as if seeing straight through him. “This isn't personal, Reed. I came to you because you're the lead detective on the copycat case.”

“Okay. It's not personal. Then don't take it personally when I tell you there's no way in hell you're getting near that prison.”

“You can't stop me. I'll talk to Kane on my own. I did it before.”

Her words pierced his chest like a well-aimed ice pick. She'd kept a lot of things from him in the months before their wedding—the fact that Kane was her biological father, her visits to the prison, her doubts concerning their marriage. She hadn't trusted him with any of it. “And if I'd known, I would have stopped you then.”

“Exactly why I didn't tell you.” She pushed back her chair, the metal legs screeching against worn
linoleum. “Obviously talking to you about this was a waste of time. I'll just go straight to your lieutenant and see what he has to say.” Thrusting herself out of her chair, she turned and marched for the door.

Watching the sharp kick of her hips, Reed gritted his teeth. He knew what the lieutenant would say. Months of no new leads and the return of summer squeezing down on his head, he'd probably jump at her offer. And in light of Reed's past relationship with Diana, it was doubtful the lieutenant would assign him to accompany her to the prison. A more likely choice would be Nikki. Or, heaven help him, the publicity-seeking Stan Perreth. “Wait.”

Diana stopped and spun to face him, hair flung over her shoulder, resolve glinting in her eyes, passion flushing her cheeks.

For a second, he couldn't breathe normally.

He must be crazy for considering this. Certifiable. She'd told him she didn't want his protection, hadn't she? Hell, even back when she'd allowed him to take care of her, he'd failed. But somehow none of that, not even the ache of his own battered heart, could make a difference. He might not
want
to accompany Diana into that prison, but he couldn't
live
with the idea of her walking in there alone. Whether he could protect her this time or
not, he didn't know. But he was certain to the marrow of his bones that he couldn't stand by and not try. “Give me a second to clean up this mess, and I'll drive you to Banesbridge.”

Diana didn't have to wonder how worried Reed was about her visit with Dryden Kane. He spent the entire hour-long drive to the prison lecturing her about the psyche of the serial killer. The security screening and trek down the halls of the main building he filled with warnings about prison security. By the time they'd reached the tiny observation room next to the room where she would meet her father and he started jotting down a list of approved questions, she'd had enough. “Listen, I'm the one asking the questions. I'm the one who will decide what they are.”

Reed paced across the closet-sized space. He stopped and peered at the television monitor showing four chairs arranged around a small table in the adjacent room. The table and one of the chairs were riveted to the floor. “Dryden Kane is a very smart and dangerous man. You may be his
daughter, but that doesn't mean he's not going to try to manipulate you just like he does everyone else. In fact, it's probably even more important to him to control you.”

“From where I'm standing, you're the one who's trying to control me.” She was sorry as soon as the words left her lips. Comparing Reed to Kane wasn't even on the remote edges of fair. Reed was only doing his job. And despite their past together, she had to focus on what she needed to do, too. It was just that no matter how things had changed from the days when she'd been helpless and Reed had been her protector, the fact that she still felt that vulnerable flutter run through her every time he looked at her made her want to do anything she could to push him away. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. But I can take care of myself, Reed. I have to take care of myself.” She'd learned that the hard way.

“So you've said.”

He didn't get it. Maybe he never would. But it didn't matter. She knew how much being dependent on other people had cost her. She had only to close her eyes and she was tied up in that cabin in the woods, waiting for her own death, reaching deep for the strength to see her nightmare through and coming up empty.

She knew Reed would never believe it, but
breaking off their engagement had shattered her heart, too. She hadn't had much of a choice. All she'd been through in that dark forest had taught her she couldn't rely on someone else to take care of her. She had to grow up and do it herself. Even now, seeing the concern in his eyes, hearing the solid logic in his voice, smelling the familiar scent of his skin—a scent that used to make her feel safe—made her want to curl in his arms and forget the whole thing. If she'd stayed with him, if she'd married him, it would have been only a matter of time before she'd have slipped right back into need and dependence.

She'd have been lost for good.

The door on the far end of the interview room swung wide, and two guards led Dryden Kane inside.

She hadn't seen him for nine months, but he hadn't changed. He still looked much younger than his forty-eight years. Young, and fresh and strangely wholesome. But the aura surrounding him was anything but. The air crackled with an oppressive and dangerous energy that crawled up her spine and trembled in her chest. And Diana knew if she dared meet his ice-blue eyes, she'd stare straight into the flat chill of death.

The guards led him to the chair that was riveted to the floor and handcuffed him to its arms. Once Kane was secured, a guard with broad shoulders
and kind brown eyes peered up at the camera. “He's ready for you.”

Diana took a step toward the door, her knees trembling so hard they teetered on the edge of collapse.

Reed touched her arm. “Don't agree to anything he asks. Don't promise anything. And don't tell him anything personal that he can use against you. At least no more than he already knows.”

“I won't.”

“And be careful.”

Her throat pinched. So much of her wanted to huddle in Reed's arms and never venture out again that the desire sucked at her. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“You don't have to go in there. We can turn around, leave right now.”

“Not that. I mean coming here with you.”

Reed's lips pressed into a bloodless line. He let his hand fall from her arm.

She knew she should explain the weakness she felt around him, the dependence, the need. But she also knew he wouldn't understand. She'd meant it when she'd told him their involvement wasn't personal. It couldn't be. And it scared her that the urge to make it so seemed to be coming from her even more than from him.

She forced herself to turn away from Reed and focus on Dryden Kane. She couldn't afford to
sabotage herself. Not when she needed every bit of strength to take on the man who was her father. “I'll be fine.” Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and strode into the interview room.

A smile curved Kane's thin lips. “Diana. I'm glad you're here. It's been too long.”

She concentrated on stepping to the chair and lowering herself safely into it before she met his eyes. “I need some answers.” Her voice sounded remarkably steady, much steadier than she felt.

Kane's smile remained intact. “Are these answers for you or for the police?”

“The police?”

“They are monitoring our conversation, aren't they? Recording it as well?” He nodded toward the small camera positioned high in the corner of the boxlike room.

She couldn't lie to him. He'd never believe her, and she would destroy her credibility with him if she were anything less than candid. If she wanted to get truthful answers, she'd have to give some. “Yes, the police are monitoring us.”

“So what answers are the boys and girls in blue after?”

“They want the identity of the Copycat Killer.”

“Of course. They've had a snitch in the cell next to me for nearly a year. Hoping I'll talk in my sleep. Why they think I have anything to tell them,
I'll never understand.” He shook his head, the fluorescent lights overhead glinting off silver strands running through brown hair. “And what do
you
want, Diana? Why are
you
here?”

“I want to know why you sent that news clipping with Sylvie's gift. Was it a threat?”

“Why would I threaten my own daughter?”

“Then why did you send it?”

“It convinced you to come visit me, didn't it?”

So Reed was right. Kane had included the clipping to manipulate them. He'd controlled the whole situation. Not that it mattered. Even if she'd known his intentions for certain, she wouldn't have changed her response. She'd be here just the same. And she wouldn't believe for a second that Kane didn't intend at least a hint of threat. “Now that you've gotten my attention, what do you want?”

“I want you to tell me about Sylvie's wedding.”

She couldn't have heard him right, could she? “Sylvie's wedding?”

“Of course. A daughter's wedding is special to a father. I should have been there. I should have walked her down the aisle.” He lifted his hands, jangling his shackles against the chair arms as if to illustrate why he'd failed to make it.

Her mind balked at the image of Kane as father of the bride. She couldn't imagine it. She didn't want to. “You can't be serious.”

“Of course I'm serious. That's the worst part about being in here. Missing the important moments in my daughters' lives.” He heaved a sigh full of regret. “Though I can't say I'm sorry you rethought your plans to marry that cop.”

She resisted the urge to shift in her chair and glance at the camera. Kane had made his displeasure about her intended marriage clear the last time she'd seen him—about a month before her wedding. The wedding that had never taken place.

“He wasn't good enough for you. Cops think they're so smart. They aren't smart. They're nothing.”

The deficiencies of cops. One of Kane's favorite topics. And the perfect segue to a less personal thread of conversation. “The cops seem to think you're controlling this Copycat Killer.”

His thin lips stretched into a smile, exposing his straight, white teeth. “So maybe they aren't totally stupid.”

“Are you admitting you're controlling the Copycat Killer?”

“You know I wouldn't admit that, even if it
was
true. My lawyer wouldn't be happy with me.”

His lawyer. The last lawyer who represented him was Bryce. That is, until Kane became unsatisfied with him. Days later, Bryce's brother was murdered. “You have a new lawyer?”

“A man like me always needs a lawyer. And this one offers a few extras besides legal representation.”

“Extras?”

“Nothing you have to concern yourself with.”

Maybe not, but she was sure Reed would want to look into just what extras his new lawyer might be offering. “So what do you know about this copycat?”

“Why would I know anything?”

Now it was her turn to play him. She summoned what courage she could muster. “False modesty? I never would have pegged you for it.”

His smile widened.

“So what do you know?”

“I know he aspires to be me.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He lowered one lid in a wink.

Even after learning Kane was her biological father, even after several visits with him, she still felt a powerful shiver of revulsion whenever he gave her that knowing wink. Coming from him it seemed profane.

She drew in a deep breath. She couldn't let him know he had the power to throw her. Not unless she wanted to lose control of the exchange entirely. “Why is he patterning his kills after murders you committed years ago?”

“He wants the power.”

“What power?”

“The power of life and death. It transformed me. It is transforming him.” He spoke evenly, matter-of-factly, the way one of her former English literature professors would discuss the intricacies of
Beowulf.

But despite his tone, his words clamped down her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. “Why copy anyone? Why not do his own thing?”

“Because he doesn't want to be himself.”

“He wants to be you.” She suppressed a shudder.

He tipped his head in a single nod. “He wants to be transformed.”

“And you are helping transform him?”

He chuckled low in his throat. “I've never even talked to him. Never seen him face-to-face. But I must admit, I can't help thinking of him as something of a son.” He smiled and glanced at the camera. “Is that enough to satisfy you, Detective?”

Diana could picture Reed's scowl. Clearly there was no way to know if what Kane said had any significance, or if he was just toying with the police.

“Enough of that. I don't want to waste any more of our time together with police business.” Kane looked around the stark room. “This place…it weighs on a man's soul. I need to see my daughters. To know you're all right. I want you to visit more. You and Sylvie.”

She folded her arms across her chest. Reed's
warning buzzed in the back of her mind.
Don't agree to anything. Don't promise anything.
“I'm afraid that's impossible.”

“Impossible? For a man to see his daughters? Why?” His eyebrows dipped low. He actually seemed confused by the suggestion. Hurt.

He had to be playing her.

“Bryce Walker doesn't want me seeing Sylvie, is that it?”

“Bryce has nothing to do with this.”

“He really was a lousy attorney.” He glanced around the room. “I mean look at this place. The main building is under construction. The cell blocks are old as dirt. A decent attorney could have gotten me transferred to a decent facility, don't you think?”

She didn't answer.

“I'd just hate to think he would try to come between a man and his daughter. Sylvie didn't send me an invitation to her wedding, she didn't come with you to see me.” He shook his head. “A girl shouldn't turn her back on her family just because she's married.”

Fear for her sister spun through Diana's mind, making her dizzy. She forced herself to breathe. “Sylvie isn't turning her back. She isn't doing anything against you at all. She's just trying to move on with her life.”

He studied her, his emotionless eyes boring into
her, through her. “On the day you get married, I want to see you in your wedding dress. Sylvie denied me that privilege, but you won't.”

“I'm not getting married.”

“You might change your mind once you find someone worthy.”

“I've worked too hard to control my own life. I'm not giving it up for a white satin dress.” She wasn't giving it up for the opportunity to visit her serial-killer father in prison either. She pushed up from her chair. “It's time for me to go.”

“Are you going to cut me out of your life as well?”

She had to remain firm. She couldn't let him push her around. “I have to get on with my life, too.”

“You need your father, Diana.”

“Goodbye.”

“If someone like that professor ever threatens you again, I want to know about it.”

She paused, memories of Professor Bertram holding her hostage for days, stripping her and hunting her in the forest swept through her mind. “Why? What would you do?”

“What any good father would do. I would protect you.”

“From prison?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I'd find a way.”

What was he going to do? Sic the Copycat Killer on anyone who crossed her path? Was he
forgetting
he
was the reason Professor Bertram had kidnapped her in the first place? That the man was desperate to avenge Kane's brutal murder of his daughter? “I can protect myself.” Taking a deep breath, she turned away from Kane and took a step toward the door.

“He has another one, you know.”

The tremble in her legs spread through her body, centering just under her rib cage. She turned back to face him. “What did you say?”