Haunting Refrain (35 page)

After a garbled start,
Venice
, holding Martin’s hand, sank into a chair and said, “You tell them, Kate. I’ll fill in when I need to.”

Starting with her examination of the box from Rita Nelson, Kate told them about the pictures she had enlarged. “Even though it was hard to see, Thomas’s face was in the picture. He looked so
intense,
I just knew it was him. I found him in some other shots, too.”

John pointed to some eight-by-tens scattered near the door. “There. I dropped them when I came in.”

Burnett stepped around Thomas and went to pick them up. While he was gathering the ones from the floor, Detective Waite brought out the ones from the darkroom. “OK. Who’s who?”

“The blonde is Gwen Gordon.” Kate indicated the picture in Waite’s hand and then pointed out Thomas in the group shots. “She’s been dating Thomas recently, but at lunch today, she was going to tell him she didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Kate turned toward Thomas. “When I saw his face in Charlene’s pictures and remembered that, I understood what happened to the others.” She shuddered and leaned into John’s warmth. “Everyone agreed that the killer was losing control, and I was certain Gwen would be next.”

Everyone there except Thomas looked at his or her watch.
John said, “It’s not quite one. Maybe he hasn’t seen her.”

Thomas gave a small snort and smiled mockingly at Kate. She dropped to her knees beside him, pleading. “Please, Thomas. Tell me if you’ve seen her. Where is she?”

He looked at her for a second and then spat into her face. Shocked, she jerked back. Before anyone else could move, John’s fist smashed into the smug face. Thomas’s head snapped and he toppled awkwardly onto his back, his cuffed hands beneath him.

“Okay, Gerrard, that’s enough,” Burnett said mildly, pulling John back from Thomas’s supine figure and reaching for Thomas. The detective yanked him into a sitting position and gave his swollen, bloody face a casual survey. “Mind your manners, Andrews,” he said, dismissing the injuries. To Waite he said, “The paramedics can clean him up before they go, if the guy downstairs is okay.”

As Waite relayed the message to
Wolynski
, John disappeared into the darkroom.

Slowly, with shaking hands, Kate untied the knot in her shirt and began wiping her face with one wrinkled tail. The other side was still bloody from the broken glass. She concentrated fiercely on keeping her stomach contents in place. What had that smug bastard done to Gwen? She looked at Thomas, who was still reeling, and thought longingly of the Louisville Slugger she had seen in John’s closet.

John returned and thrust a handful of wet paper towels into her hand. Taking one, he knelt in front of her and carefully wiped her face, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Fighting back the nausea that rose in her stomach, she managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“Are we ready to go on?” Waite asked, not unpleasantly.

“Yes. Sorry. As I said, after I printed the pictures, I knew it was Thomas, and I was so afraid for Gwen.” She wiped away a tear threatening to spill over. “I left a message on her answering machine, and then I called John and
Venice
. I couldn’t find anyone, and it was getting late. I called Detective Burnett, but the pictures weren’t enough for him to act on, and I knew I’d never find Gwen by myself.

“So,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I went to Thomas’s house, looking for something to tie him to Kelly or Charlene. I knew it was stupid, but I thought he was at work.”

Detective Waite winced and shook her head. “Where were you, Gerrard? I thought you were keeping an eye on her.”

“After getting my ass chewed for refusing an assignment, I was running all over town trying to find her.” He turned to Kate. “
Venice
told me she’d found something, so I went to check. You didn’t answer so I called James Earl. He told me you were in the studio and that no one else had come in.”

Venice
picked up the story. “John had given us a list of the property owners at
Lake
Jocassee
, to see if we recognized anyone. I did—Lyle Border.”

“Who’s Lyle Border?” Burnett asked.

“Thomas’s mother, Margery, married him about two years ago. Thomas and Margery were always very close, so I assumed he would be quite familiar with the place.”

Venice
seemed smaller today, sitting quietly in the big chair with Martin resting on the arm beside her. That blow to the head must have taken its toll, Kate thought.

“You ladies can get a lot out of not much.” Burnett shook his head and looked at Waite. “So far, except for the attack on Withers downstairs, we’ve got squat.”

“We have more than that.” Martin spoke up for the first time. “I checked with the university and found that Thomas had taken a class with Kelly Landrum last spring.”

“And I found the number where he works scribbled on the back of a business card in Charlene’s things,” Kate said, nervously fingering the earrings in her pocket. “I have something else, too.”

They all turned to her. John squeezed her hand. “Go on. Tell us.”

She carefully pulled the white handkerchief from her pocket and held it out to Detective Waite. “I haven’t touched them. They’re the earrings Charlene is wearing in the picture.”

Without warning, Thomas roared and sprang from the floor, lunging at Kate, leading with his shoulder. John and Burnett intercepted him, ramming him simultaneously, and all three men went down in a tangle of limbs and expletives. Dill would have been in the fray if he could have gotten close enough. They were still sorting themselves out when the phone rang.

Waite answered. She listened for a minute and then said, “Thanks. We’ll be right there.”
 
She turned slowly back to the others. “They found Ms. Gordon. She’s alive, but they’ve taken her to
Memorial
Hospital
.”

Kate made a small choked sound and
Venice
cried out, sinking back into the chair.

“Kate,
Venice
, is there any family we should notify?” Waite was suddenly all business, not giving either of them time to fall apart. “Give me the earrings. We aren’t finished with this.”

“There’s only her father. No other family,” Kate said.

Waite took the handkerchief and wrote down the information Kate gave her. She frowned at the name.

Before the detective could ask, Kate said, “Her father is Millard Gordon, the
fourth
. It was her grandfather—the third—who was the governor.” Pictures of Gwen in various states of injury ran through her mind.

Burnett rolled his eyes. Waite closed hers.
“
Those
Gordons
.”
They exchanged a look and Waite said, “Dill, you and
Wolynski
get this guy cleaned up and then take him downtown. Don’t let anything happen to him. Be sure you do it by the book.”

“How bad is Gwen?” Kate asked from the floor, where she was fishing her keys out from under the desk. She had to get to the hospital.

The detective didn’t answer.

“I’ll drive.” John took her arm, hauling her to her feet, and plucked the keys from her hand.

Waite looked at
Venice
, who clung, white-faced, to Martin’s arm. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes,” she said, straightening and drawing her dignity around her like a cloak. “How badly is she hurt?”

“I won’t lie to you. She’s been beaten and strangled. She was unconscious when they found her.” She pressed Kate’s hand, holding the prints in her other hand. “I don’t know how bad it is,” she said, glancing at the beautiful face in the photograph.

Burnett was waiting for her at the door.
Wolynski
came up with the elevator and spoke briefly to the two detectives, who left at once. Kate stopped long enough to ask
Wolynski
about James Earl.

“He’s okay. The medics put a bandage on his head and let him go home.”
Wolynski
looked over her shoulder as he spoke, nodding to Dill. “They’re waiting for us to bring this guy down.”

John handed him Kate’s key. “Lock up when you leave, would you? You can give the key to
Venice
.”

“I’ll bring it with me to the hospital, Kate,”
Venice
said in a
quavery
voice.

“No you won’t. You’re going home to lie down first. There’s nothing you can do right now, and Kate will call us.” Martin took her arm and led her back to the chair. “Sit down till the elevator’s back. We’ll get the key to you later, Kate.”

Kate ran back and gave
Venice
a quick kiss. She had never really thought of the woman as old, but right now she looked gray and frail. Her hands trembled as she patted Kate’s face.

“Give her my love, Kate,” she said.

John and Kate took the steps, leaving Martin and
Venice
with the two policemen and Thomas Andrews in Kate’s studio.

At the hospital, they were shown to a waiting room. Waite and Burnett were already there, talking to a man in green scrubs. Their expressions were grave. Burnett’s hands were on his hips, and he was staring at the floor. Waite was biting her lip, focused on the doctor.

Oh, God,
Kate thought.
Gwen
. She couldn’t even think the question.

Kate ran to them and gripped the man’s arm. His nametag identified him as Doctor Robbins. “How is she? Can I see her?”
What if they wouldn’t let her in?
“I’m her sister.”

Burnett and Waite, with equally skeptical expressions, looked down at the small red-headed woman shoving her way into the tight group.

“You missed your calling, McGuire. You should have been a reporter,” Burnett said, but turned back to the doctor and surprised Kate by saying, “Yeah, she’s the sister.”

The doctor snagged a passing nurse. “This is Ms. Gordon’s sister. Will you take her back?”

“Sure.” The woman smiled at Kate. “Come with me. Ms. Gordon is asleep and sedated.”

“Sedated? Does that mean there were no head injuries?”

“No concussion, two cracked ribs. She looks pretty bad, but the injuries are mostly superficial.” The nurse looked closely at Kate. “You don’t look all that good either. Your cheek is swollen and beginning to bruise, and your neck too. What have you two been doing?”

“Ran into the same door.”
Cracked ribs?
Kate envisioned that heavy shoe swinging toward her. Her arm, although no longer numb, still tingled and throbbed. She hesitated when they reached the door to Gwen’s room. “Will there be any permanent damage? Can you tell yet?”

“Doctor Robbins didn’t think so. Nothing was broken and the cuts should heal cleanly. It will take a while for all the marks to fade completely, but they should.”

The two detectives turned the corner of the hall.

Kate pushed the door open and crossed the few feet to the figure lying in the bed. Waite stopped just inside the door and nodded to Kate. Burnett stayed out of sight.

Kate choked back a gasp and swallowed to dispel the sudden onrush of tears when she saw the once-beautiful face. She leaned over to kiss Gwen’s forehead, the only visible spot that didn’t look painful. Gwen never stirred.

Detective Waite stepped up to the bed beside Kate and whispered, “Gwen?”

There was no response. Kate was unable to hold back her tears. She and Waite tiptoed from the silent room. Detective Burnett stood outside with John, who was leaning against the wall. Waite shook her head at Burnett, gesturing toward the hospital bed.
“Nothing.”