The Killing Edge (23 page)

“Do you still have someone outside the Marin house?” Luke asked.

“You bet. Leo has come and gone, but the girls have stayed in. I got a report from my patrolman just a few minutes ago—both cars are there and the girls are inside.”

Luke thanked him and said that he’d be in the following morning to report on what he had seen, what he thought, and compare notes.

He hung up and dialed Chloe’s number. It went straight to message.

He was concerned and about to try again, but the flight attendant came by, asking him to please turn off his phone. She waited for him, watching with knowing eyes.

He turned off his phone.

The flight was barely an hour and a half, but it seemed to stretch for an eternity.

Before they left the restaurant, Chloe and Victoria remembered that it was a
potluck
supper, so they ordered a large salad and bread to go. The streets were crazy when they neared the church, with the police stopping anyone who looked even slightly suspicious.

Victoria’s makeup and costuming passed muster, because the officers let them right through, along with their contribution to the meal, and they walked up to the church. Neither of them had ever seen the building before, and they were both surprised by the onion domes, but then again, as Victoria mentioned, at least one nightclub in New York City had once been a church.

At first, they might have been at any church gathering. People greeted them, thanked them for the food and told them to help themselves, and offered them punch.

Neither of them drank it, though they accepted the paper cups.

After a while a bell rang, and everyone put down their plates and moved into the sanctuary. Brother Sanz, the man who had appeared on television, welcomed the congregation and their guests, and explained that despite what they might have heard, the church never preached violence of any sort, because human life was always sacred. “What we teach is tolerance for others, accompanied by our belief that we know the true way to reach heaven. And that way is through goodness to others and a knowledge that we are blessed, and that our bodies are our temples. Our members eschew the poisons that are so easily available everywhere
you turn. We don’t imbibe alcohol, we don’t smoke—legal or illegal substances,” he said, bringing a laugh from his audience. “We promote a community in which all of us care for the welfare of children. We are friends to one another. Yes, we ask for a portion of our parishioners’ earnings, but all to fund the church and her outreach programs. We help those who are stricken with illness, and we are there to support our members who find themselves without jobs. Giving of oneself is everything, and it earns one everything in return. Tonight, we are here to tell you who we are. No one is ever compelled to join a church or stay in a church, but we hope you will join us and stay with us. We hope to provide the hope, faith, love and charity that we are all seeking in life.”

His rhetoric went on for a while longer. Chloe looked nervously at her watch and saw that it was almost nine, nearly an hour later than they had planned to stay. She was relieved when Brother Sanz blessed those present, and people rose to leave.

Afterward there was coffee in the garden area beside the church. Chloe was impatient and ready to leave, but she went stock-still when she saw a man streak past the police barricade, shouting, “Whore of Satan! Killer—murderess!”

He hurled the tomato at a woman of about forty who was standing very near Chloe.

The woman ducked, slipped and fell. The police went after the man, who raced away down the sidewalk.

Chloe bent instinctively to help the woman who had fallen. Others nearby also stepped forward, but as the woman
stood up, glancing at Chloe gratefully for her support, she said, “Please, please, I’m fine. Don’t hover, my friends. I’m all right.”

Chloe dusted off the woman’s shirt, where bits of grass had clung. “Thank you,” the woman said. She was bone thin, and had a sadness about her that was haunting. She was pretending that the attack had meant nothing, but there were tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “I don’t mean to pry, but…why?”

“It’s because of what happened in that house on the beach,” the woman said. She met Chloe’s eyes and said, “You’re a kind soul, I can feel it. Would you get me some coffee?”

“I’ve got it,” Victoria said. “You two sit down. There’s a table over there.”

Chloe led the woman to the nearby picnic table and sat next to her.

“Luckily most people have no idea—” The woman broke off and offered her hand. “I’m Sister Lucy. I don’t use my last name, but it’s Garcia.”

Chloe stared at her blankly for a minute, then realized that Garcia was the name of one of the men who had been found in the Everglades, not the man she had identified but the man who had been with him.

“You know about my brother, don’t you?” Sister Lucy asked.

Evidently her face had given her away, Chloe thought.

She nodded. “Yes. He was one of the dead men found in the Everglades ten years ago, wasn’t he?”

Sister Lucy nodded. “He didn’t do it,” she whispered.
“Everyone thought I was crazy, because there was a note…he was dead. But he didn’t do it. I know he didn’t.”

Victoria came over with the coffee, sitting down next to Lucy and saying, “It’s all right. We believe you.”

“Shh!” Sister Lucy said. “He’s coming.”

They looked around to see who she was talking about and saw Brother Sanz heading their way.

Lucy stood immediately. “Brother Sanz. I was welcoming these ladies to the church and thanking them for helping me up.”

Brother Sanz offered his hand to Victoria and then Chloe. His handshake was firm and warm, and his smile was warmer. “I commend you ladies for your courage, not just in helping Sister Lucy but in coming here tonight. We’re being blamed once more, and once more we are innocent. But I will not let our church fall apart again. We do too much good. Thank you for coming, and for helping Lucy against those who would condemn without trial and take what they think of as justice into their own hands. I hope to see you here again.”

“I’m sure we’ll be back,” Victoria said. “But it’s quite late for us. We have to go to work in the morning, so we’d better say good-night.”

“Thank you so much for a very informative and enjoyable evening. And good night,” Chloe said, then turned.

And crashed straight into Luke Cane, who caught her, steadied her and looked into her eyes.

And knew exactly who she was.

S
eated next to Victoria in the living room of her carriage house, Chloe appeared aloof and indignant, but he knew it was a ruse. Just like the ridiculous dresses, wigs and makeup they had been wearing. Now the wigs were gone, their faces had been washed, and they were down to the dowdy dresses.

Now it was just himself versus Chloe and Victoria, who was staying absolutely silent. She had started off by trying to take the blame, but Chloe, in a burst of temper, had told her that she was an adult and absolutely free to make her own choices, and she had chosen to go along to the church.

That was now.

But he had seen her expression when she and Victoria had first run into him, and he knew that she was also being an
tagonistic because she realized she had done something foolish and potentially dangerous. And yes, she had allowed Victoria to urge her into it.

He was trying hard to tread carefully here. She was over twenty-one and
usually
of sound mind, and if she chose to, she could demand that he get out of her house and he would have no choice but to go. And yet it was difficult not to betray his anger and incredulity that they had pulled such a stunt when they had just seen their friend’s blood congealing in a pool of solid crimson.

He was pacing back and forth, and he told himself to stop, and managed to at least stride into the kitchen and find a beer. A long, slow swallow helped him get a grip.

He went back to the living room and looked at the two of them. “What didn’t you see when we went into that house the other night?” he asked. “You know—you
know
—what people, and quite possibly
those people
, are capable of. You’ve seen it twice now. What were you thinking?”

“We were never in any danger,” Chloe insisted. “Whoever killed Myra and the others doesn’t go after his victims in public places. I’d be in more danger here, if he were after me. But he’s not. Think about it—fanatics killed our friends ten years ago. If someone had specifically wanted either of us dead, they wouldn’t be waiting around ten years. And the crime scenes weren’t the same, so there’s no reason to think the two crimes are even related.”

“Maybe the killer didn’t have time to write on the wall this time,” Luke said, finally taking a seat across from the two women.

“Why did you go looking for us at the church, anyway?” Chloe asked suspiciously.

“I called you, but you didn’t answer. Then I came here—and you were gone. Why did you turn your phone off, anyway?”

“Because we were in the meeting,” Chloe said. She turned away, looking guilty for a moment, but her mask of regal independence was quickly back in place.

“Well, when you didn’t answer, and then I saw that the cars were still here, I figured you were up to something, and I figured it had to be the potluck supper.”

“You mentioned that you were thinking about going, but that was…before,” Chloe murmured.

“We learned something tonight,” Victoria said. “Well, Chloe did. She managed to be in the right place at the right time.”

Luke stared at Chloe. “You might have mentioned this.”

“You might have given me a chance.”

He waited silently for her to go on.

“There’s a woman there named Sister Lucy. Sister Lucy Garcia. She was the sister—the biological sister, I mean—of Abram Garcia, the man who supposedly shot and killed Michael Donlevy and then himself in the Everglades. The guy who supposedly put his murder-suicide note in a plastic bag so that it could be found with the bodies out on the trail. And here’s the interesting part—”

“A guy tried to throw a tomato at her,” Victoria interjected.

“He missed her, but she slipped, and I helped her up, and she told us that her brother didn’t do it—that the church
got the blame, but it wasn’t responsible. The thing is, Abram Garcia wasn’t the man I saw. So I know Michael Donlevy was there, but I can’t guarantee that Abram Garcia was, so maybe his sister is right and he really was innocent. No one believed her, of course. There was the note, and there was my sketch of Michael Donlevy. I don’t know. It’s confusing, that’s for sure.”

He shook his head. “I’ll go down there and find a way to speak with her.”

“Right. It’s fine for
you
to go there,” Chloe murmured.

“Please. I never thought of you as stupid, Chloe. I’m an investigator. I was a cop. I know what I’m doing.”

“Excuse me, but I got information you might not have gotten. And don’t go telling me that you’re so big and strong.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “I saw some of the biggest macho jocks in town die in a pool of blood, just like the girls.”

“I know that,” he said quietly. “But it’s my job to deal with the killers of the world. Those guys were still just kids, and they were taken by surprise.”

“She had her gun with her,” Victoria volunteered.

“Victoria,” Chloe said flatly, unhappily, before turning her attention back to Luke. “It wasn’t a bad idea, going there. Vickie is good at what she does. You knew it was us, but only because you were expecting to find us there. And we did find out about Lucy Garcia. That gives you a lead. Right?”

He nodded. “A good lead. And thank you. But please, I don’t want to die.”

“What?” Victoria said, puzzled.

“You two almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh, be serious,” Victoria said, smiling.

“I
am
serious,” Luke said.

They didn’t get a chance to speak further then, because there was a soft tap at the door, and Chloe leaped up to answer it.

Leo came in and frowned when he saw her dress. “What? Did you sneak out and hold up a flea market?” he asked.

“Vickie and I were just fooling around,” Chloe said.

Well, Luke thought, he couldn’t really call her a liar for that.

Leo looked distracted when he turned to Luke. “Welcome back. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

“Was it a worthwhile trip?”

“I think so.”

“I hope so,” Leo said. “The police have nothing, from what I’ve gotten from Stuckey. No footprints, no fingerprints. There was no forced entry. They’re figuring the murderer left by the back, but sand doesn’t hold prints, and there was no blood trail, nothing. It’s like a phantom committed the murders and then disappeared.”

“How are they doing with their investigation into the Church of the Real People?” Luke asked. “I see Stuckey tomorrow morning,” he added. “So if you feel uncomfortable talking about it, it’s fine.”

“No, I don’t mind. The church is being open and seemingly helpful, but everyone still has to tread carefully. You can’t rip a place apart because of something that happened a decade ago.”

“No,” Luke agreed.

“All right, then I’ll see you tomorrow, since it looks like you’ve all decided to stay over here,” Leo said. “I just wanted to be sure Luke was back safe.”

He left. But before the door closed, Victoria called to him to wait. “I’m going to sleep in the main house,” she told Luke and Chloe. “And no offense, Chloe, but please, don’t follow me and worry about me. I’m fine on my own, and frankly, I like to stretch out. The two of us in that bed did not work.”

She was out the door before either of them could say anything.

Silence fell.

Chloe looked at Luke. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she finally said.

“Wrong? No.”

“Oh, God, I hate that! I like it better when you’re yelling.”

“You scared me. It wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it wasn’t the right thing to do, either,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have lied to you. But I don’t have to ask for your permission to do what I think I should,” she said.

“No,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Oh, God,” she groaned. “I’m sorry. Really. Do you believe me?”

“Of course.”

“But?”

He shrugged. “You’ll do whatever you want again, Chloe. You’re a wild card.”

She stood up. “I’m sorry, then. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t known there would be police everywhere.”

“All right.”

“I’m going up. To bed.”

He nodded.

“Are you staying here?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be here.”

She hesitated for another second. Then she was gone, up the stairs.

He sat, staring at the emptiness of the couch for a long time. He didn’t know what had him so paralyzed. It wasn’t his time in New Orleans; it wasn’t even realizing that the government called on psychics for help.

He closed his eyes and remembered Miranda.

Remembered getting home.

Seeing her.

He didn’t dwell on the memory, but sometimes it came back unbidden. At least tonight he knew why.

After a while, he dozed in the chair. And he stayed there all that night. He didn’t want to sleep well, didn’t want to dream.

She dreamed, and she was sure it was a dream because things weren’t exactly right. Things were too big, out of proportion, and melting, dripping, like in a Dali painting.

And Colleen Rodriguez was in her room again, wet and staring at her. And she was dripping, too. The white dress dripped. Her hair dripped.

And tears dripped down her cheeks.

Help me, please. Find me. Catch him.

When Chloe woke the next morning, she was exhausted. She didn’t know whether or not to mention her
dream to Luke, especially since he had never come up to join her last night.

It hurt, but she still felt that going to the church had been important.

It wasn’t even nine yet when she went downstairs, but Luke was already gone.

She wasn’t alone, though. There was something on the couch. A mound, covered with a towel. She walked over to it—cautiously, because something under there was making little whining noises.

She moved the towel and saw that it was a pet carrier with a note taped to it.

Chloe had been feeling particularly depressed, not because she was being haunted, but because Luke had chosen to stay away from her.

But the letter and the puppy made her smile. She took the little creature out of the carrier, and he immediately started licking her half to death. “Hey, hey, calm down,” she told him. Then, to herself, “Okay, this is great, I have an untrained puppy. How on earth did he manage that at such an early hour?” She turned back to the puppy. “I
don’t even have food for you. What do I do with you now? Take you to work?”

There was a tap at her door, and she opened it. Leo, dressed for work, his briefcase in his hand, was standing there.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well what?”

“I wasn’t sure I should let him leave you a puppy, but…he was so damn cute,” Leo said. “The puppy, I mean.”

“He’s adorable,” she agreed.

“His dad is out here. Want to come meet him?”

“I guess so,” Chloe said, and stepped out, hoping that the bigger version of Theo wouldn’t jump on her.

“Dad’s name is George,” Leo told her.

“Don’t tell me—let me guess. George—Washington?” she asked.

“You got it. He actually belongs to a police trainer—George, not the puppy. The puppy is yours. I guess Luke is friends with the guy and knew he had a litter of puppies ready to go. George is on loan. He’s supposed to be one of the handler’s best dogs. Nice as can be—unless someone threatens whoever he’s guarding. But I’m supposed to introduce you right away, so he’ll know you’re not threatening.”

“What about Victoria?”

“She met him on the way out,” Leo told her.

“Oh,” she said. She could see Theo’s father already. The dog had to weigh close to two hundred pounds. He was a giant, but he was beautiful.

“Hi, George,” she said.

George trotted over to her as sweetly as a kitten and nuzzled her hand, and she stroked his back.

“George stays in the yard while we’re gone. He’ll sleep with you at night, wherever you are,” Leo said. “I see.”

“Oh, Luke left something else for you, as well,” Leo told her. “It’s on the counter. I’ve got to go. See you tonight. If you’re not coming home for any reason, call me.”

“Will do. And you do the same, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

Leo left, and Chloe walked back inside to check out the counter, where she saw an exquisite and unique piece of jewelry lying on the counter. “Guess he was covering all the bases, huh, Theo?” she murmured as she picked up the necklace and examined it. The center circle, with the blessing, or whatever it was, was large and dangled lower than the other, smaller, charms. The necklace was beautiful, but she didn’t think it was the kind of thing Luke Cane would have picked out. Was it really intended for her?

She slipped it on anyway, picked up the puppy and headed out. She was careful with all the locks.

When she reached her office, Jim Evans was at his desk in the waiting room. He looked up in surprise, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was there, or because of the puppy in her arms.

“Don’t ask,” she told him.

“He’s adorable. A therapy dog?” Jim asked.

“Um, no. A present.”

“Ooh. Cute. I suppose I get to walk him now?” Jim said.

“We’ll both walk him, I guess. I don’t know. I haven’t had a puppy before.”

“What’s that on your neck?”

“Oh, another present.”

“Double ooh,” Jim teased. Then he grew sober. “You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect you, so I cleared your calendar.”

“Make a few calls. Some people may want to come in.”

“If you insist,” Jim said. “But…are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, I’ll get you going in the next hour. But a lot of people know you worked with Myra and the Bryson Agency. They’ll be thinking you’re the one who needs the help.”

“I’ll let them help me. That’s always good therapy,” she said, and started into her office.