Thicker Than Water (18 page)

The second television screen was running the Armory Square Hotel's elevator surveillance tapes. She'd been praying for another shot of the mystery woman, maybe as she left the building, but so far she hadn't found it.

Then, suddenly, she saw something on the tape that grabbed her interest. She quickly reached for the control button, stopped and rewound the tape, and let it play again. The
person in the elevator was not the mysterious woman with the obvious disguise. It was Sean MacKenzie, arriving on the scene.

“Hey, that photo could have been anyone, even our own Julie, don't you think, Sean?”

The tinny voice of Channel Four's meteorologist drew Cassie's gaze to the first television set, the one airing the evening news. She paused the surveillance tape with one remote, turned up the volume of the news show with another. Just in time to hear Sean MacKenzie say, “It's probably the first and only time she can be glad she got stuck with me tagging along on a story, Danny. She was never outta my sight.”

Cassie Jackson glanced back at the first TV, frozen on an unfocused image of Sean MacKenzie standing in the hotel elevator—alone. Smiling slowly, she pointed her forefinger at the television screen and cocked her thumb. “Gotcha.”

* * *

Dawn and Kayla emerged from the brushy path into Dawn's backyard, breathless and frightened. They had opted not to try to run back toward the school. It was further away, and they would have had to go over open road to get there. Dawn's house had been closer, and the shortcut along the lake let them keep under cover as they ran. Dawn fumbled in her jeans pocket for her new set of house keys, found them and then paused to look around. “I don't see anyone. Do you?”

“No.” Kayla shot a look behind them. “Let's just get inside, okay?”

Nodding, Dawn jogged across the lawn, unlocked the back door and opened it. The two girls crowded into the house, clutching each other. Kayla closed the door and locked it, while Dawn released her grip on her friend's arm to run
through to the living room and check the lock on the front door. Then she peered out the window.

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she saw the car parked on the side of the road, across from the house next door.

“Kayla!”

Kayla came running, then followed Dawn's gaze. “Oh, God. It's the same car. Isn't it?”

Dawn nodded.

“What do we do?”

“I don't know.” Dawn spun to look at the clock. “Mom will be home soon.”

“Dawnie, can you see anyone in that car?”

“No. The glass is too dark.”

Kayla's voice came out softer and tight. “What if he's not out there? What if he's already in the house?”

Dawn went cold at those words. It felt as if her blood turned into ice. She grabbed the phone, hit the speed dial, then put her free arm around Kayla and backed into a corner, eyes on the front door and the stairway, ears straining to catch any sound.

“Who are you calling?” Kayla whispered.

“Mr. White, next door.”

A solid knock sounded on the front door. Both girls jumped. “He's not answering,” Dawn said.

“Hang up and dial 9-1-1.”

T
he knocking came again. “Dawnie? You home?”

Dawn's muscles all seemed to go limp. “Mr. White?” She hurried to the door, peeking through the window, then rapidly unlocking and opening it. “Come on in.” She looked past him as she ushered him inside, up the road and down it. The black car was gone.

“I made your favorite,” Mr. White was saying as Dawn closed and locked the door, mouthing “He's gone” to Kayla. “Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies! Thought you might enjoy some. Hello, Kayla.”

“Hi, Mr. White. It's really good to see you.” She moved forward as he peeled the plastic wrap from the plate of cookies, helping herself to one and taking the phone from Dawn. “I'd better call my mom. She'll be at school looking for us by now.”

“Right.” Dawn hadn't thought about the lie they'd told ever since the car had stopped by the lake. That little problem had been frightened right out of her head.

The old neighbor carried the cookies into the kitchen, setting them on the table, looking around the place. “You girls home alone?”

“Mom should be here any time now.” Dawn said, taking a cookie from the plate. “You want some coffee or anything?”

“Oh, no. That caffeine…” He shook his head side to side. “Milk, now, that would be a different matter.”

Dawn got three glasses, filled them all with ice-cold milk and took a seat at the table, waving Mr. White to take one, too. He did, methodically dipping a cookie into his glass of milk, then biting off the moistened bit.

Kayla joined them in the kitchen, sipping her milk, as well.

“I noticed a strange car outside earlier,” Mr. White said. “Just sort of sitting there, across from my place. You see it?” He dipped again, bit again.

Dawn and Kayla exchanged glances. “Yeah, we did. It made us nervous. In fact, I was just calling you when you knocked on the door.”

He lifted his brows, then smiled. “Well, that makes me feel pretty good, Dawnie. I hope you never hesitate to call if you feel scared over here alone.”

“I think you scared him away. The car was gone when I opened the door to let you in.”

Rodney nodded. “Yeah, I saw that. He pulled away when I got halfway here. Probably took one look at me and ran.” He grinned when he said it and made a fist as if to flex his bicep. He was wearing a long-sleeved flannel shirt with a windbreaker over it. But Dawnie didn't need to see his arm to
know there wasn't much muscle there. Her mother often joked that a strong wind would blow Mr. White away if he wasn't careful, despite the fact that he apparently existed on his own homemade cookies, brownies and fudge.

“Probably best to tell your mom about it, Dawnie. She'd want to know.”

Dawn looked at him. “She told you to keep an eye on me, didn't she?”

“I've always got my eye on you, missy. But, yes, your mother has seemed a little bit more nervous than usual, these past couple of days.” He tipped his head sideways. “You wouldn't know why that is, would you?”

“No idea.” Dawn heard a car pulling in. “That's probably her now, though.”

Mr. White finished his cookie, drained his milk. “Well, I only came to deliver the cookies and put the fear of the aged into that lurker outside. You two be careful, now.”

“We will. Thank you, Mr. White.”

“Yeah, thanks a bunch for coming over.”

“Anytime.” He headed for the front door and let himself out.

Kayla and Dawn followed him to the living room, and watched him go. He met Dawn's mom halfway across the driveway.

“I'm gonna have to tell her we walked home,” Dawn said. “Even though that was exactly what she told me not to do. What did you tell your mom?”

“I told her the review class let out early and that we were so glad the sun finally came out that we decided to walk.”

“Did you mention the car?”

“Figured I'd wait until I got home. But we have to tell them. I mean, if this is some sicko looking to pick up kids…”

“Yeah. We have to tell them.”

Kayla licked her lips. “You gonna say anything to your mom about the rest—the thing that was missing from your bag?”

Dawn sighed. “I think maybe I have to. I mean, if I made it worse, she deserves to know.” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “I've got to think some more, first.”

“I think you should tell her.” Kayla shrugged. “Then again, I don't even know what this is about, so don't go by me.”

The two adults finished talking. Dawn's mother gave the old man a gentle hug and hurried inside. Dawn braced her shoulders and prepared herself to face the music.

* * *

“What have you got?”

Sean sat on a bar stool, nursing a Guinness. Beside him, Freddy Drummond sipped his seven-seven. Sean had bought.

“Did you get me a sample from the victim?”

“No, but I learned his blood type.” Sean glanced around the place. The bartender was at the other end, deep in conversation with one of the regulars. Others milled around, but not close enough to listen in. Still, he kept his voice low. “O negative.”

“Interestingly, that's the same type that was all over the blade.”

Sean closed his eyes. “I was afraid of that.”

“We got some prints off the handle. Two very clear ones. They matched the prints on cola can number two.”

Frowning, Sean said, “I was afraid of that.” Can number two had been Dawn's soda can. He'd hoped the kid had had more sense than to get her fingerprints on the murder weapon. “Any other prints?”

“None.”

Sean swallowed hard, relieved there was no evidence Jones had been the one to wield that blade. Still, Dawn's fingerprints were on it. Dammit to hell. He didn't for a minute think the kid was capable of murder, but that didn't mean the police wouldn't. He'd seen kids younger than her tried as adults. Hell.

“What else do you need?”

He managed to shake the dust from his head long enough to think. “Nothing. Nothing, that's all I need to know.” God knew what Jax and the D.A.'s office would do with this evidence if they got hold of it. He wouldn't be surprised if they used it to wring a confession out of Jones. She would give it, too. She would do anything to protect her daughter. “I need the item back,” he said at length. He'd made up his mind. He had to get rid of it.

Freddy nodded. “Finish your Guinness, then, and follow me. It's at the lab.”

Sean nodded, drained his glass and left his money on the gleaming oak bar. “Let's do it.” He glanced at his watch. “And let's make it quick.” He still hadn't managed to let Dawn know he was the one who'd taken the blade from her bag. She hadn't answered the phone after school. He wasn't worried—he knew her mother had people watching her like hawks—but he was concerned that she would freak out when she found the blade missing, which she must have by now. He would have to speak to her just as soon as he could.

Freddy drove a Ford Taurus. A new one, but still, Sean thought he could have afforded something a little pricier. His private lab brought in good bucks. Excellent bucks. He was hired by lawyers and district attorneys all the time, and he was
a PI's dream come true. By the book, but completely discreet. Nothing entrusted to him went any further. It was how he stayed in business.

His place was downtown, not far away. A one story brick rectangle, it housed laboratory facilities, offices and a reception area always stocked with coffee and tea. The red Taurus wagon pulled into the paved driveway, and Sean pulled his Porsche in right beside it. By the time he shut his car off and got out, Freddy was swearing a blue streak and yanking out his cell phone.

Sean rushed forward, but Fred held up a hand to stop him.

That was when Sean saw the double doors. They'd been made of glass. Now they were made of air, mostly, aside from the few broken spears that still glimmered in the frames. “Jesus.”

Fred was speaking into his cell phone, rattling off the address, saying he didn't know if the person was still on the premises, giving details.

Sean moved past him, stepping through the broken doors, shards of glass crackling under his feet.

“Sean, don't! They might still be inside.” Fred folded his phone and stuck it into his pocket. “Just be patient. The police are on their way.”

“That's why I can't be patient. I need the knife, Fred, and the report and the cans. Everything. Now.”

Fred held his gaze for one moment, then nodded and followed him inside. They moved slowly, but it was clear within a few moments that no one was inside but them. Sean followed his friend through the place and into his private office. The refrigerator door stood open, its padlock bent and bro
ken on the floor. Gasping, Fred ran to the fridge. “Oh, Jesus. Sean, it's gone. The knife you brought—it's gone.”

Sean snapped his head around. “It can't be—” He ran to the cooler, where he knew Fred would have stored the blade to keep the blood from deteriorating. But the knife wasn't inside, confirming the knot he'd felt in his gut from the first moment he'd seen the broken doors. Somewhere, deep down, he'd known. What other thing could Fred have been working on that was as big as the murder of a state senator's brother?

He stood there, staring into the open refrigerator, and slowly let his head fall forward. “Dammit.”

“I'm sorry, Sean. They must have disabled the alarm somehow. I can't believe—look, this is my responsibility. I know that.”

Sean shook his head slowly. “You had no way of knowing. I should have thought…”

“How do you want it handled? With the police, I mean?”

Sean stared at him for a long moment. “It was never here.
I
was never here. Forget you ever saw that blade. Can you do that for me?”

Freddy's tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “Just tell me one thing. Has this got anything to do with the murder of Harry Blackwood?”

“It's got to do with protecting an innocent kid, Fred. That's all I can tell you. You're gonna have to trust me on this.”

Fred held Sean's eyes, then sighed, lowering his head. “Get your report out of the files, assuming it's still there.”

Sean opened the file drawer, located his folder and took it out, while Freddy turned to a cabinet, unlocked it and fished out the large plastic bag containing the soda cans from Jones's house. He tossed it to Sean.

“Now get out of here before the cops arrive.”

“Thanks, Fred. You're a decent guy.”

“You're a good customer.”

* * *

“We need to talk.”

Julie stood in her open front door, staring at Sean MacKenzie and wondering just how much it was going to take to get him to drop his snooping and leave her alone. She had enough to worry about without him poking around. God, why the hell had fate conspired to tangle him up in her life? And yet, part of her was glad to see him. Part of her knew he'd pulled her from the path of destruction by giving her an alibi tonight, on the air, in front of the entire viewing audience. And part of her just wanted to hug him for that.

“Sean, not tonight, please. It's just not a good time.”

“Why, what's happened?”

“Hi, Sean,” Dawn called from behind her mother. “Coffee or cocoa?”

“Sean can't stay,” Julie said, making her voice firm. “And stop with the delaying tactics. We're going to discuss what you did tonight.”

“Cocoa,” Sean said, coming inside anyway, walking past Julie and focusing on her daughter instead. “What'd you do, Dawnie?”

“I promised to ride home with Kayla's mom, but we decided to walk instead.”

“Dawn,” Julie said, using a warning tone.

“There was this car that kind of—I don't know, followed us, I think.”

Sean stopped where he was, and Julie thought the shock
in his eyes was real. He seemed to go tight all over, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “Are you okay?”

Dawn nodded. “It was scary. He passed by us three times, and the third time he slowed down, and I think he stopped. We took off, used the shortcut by the lake, and came in the back door. But when we got here, he was parked across the street.”

“Did you get a plate number?”

Dawn shook her head side to side. Sean shot Julie a look. “Have you called the police?”

“Not yet.”

His lips thinned. He lowered his head, pushed a hand through his hair. He seemed as upset as Julie had been.

“I learned my lesson, I'll tell you that,” Dawn said. She was moving around the kitchen, putting water on to heat and pouring packets of cocoa mix into three mugs. “I know you're mad, Mom, but I swear to God, it won't happen again.”

Sean drew a breath, sighed heavily, started to speak, then stopped himself.