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“How long were you married?”
“Ten years.”
“I can imagine you standing before a gilded altar in a church filled with stained-glass windows and hundreds of important people.” She didn’t like the image.
“It was quite the society affair.”
She liked John Adler a lot, and if she were going to trust someone now, it would be him. She stared at the spoon before she said, “So, I received flowers today. They were delivered to my office. No note. My boss has no idea who sent them.”
He scanned the room, and his tone sharpened when he spoke, “Where are they?”
“I gave them to the nurses. Someone also sent me flowers the night of my lecture. I gave those away to a student. I don’t know anyone who would send me flowers.”
He was silent.
With him she was able to confess, “They gave me the creeps. Who would have thought such a pretty and perfect arrangement of white tulips would make me want to jump out of my skin.”
“The other flowers were also white tulips?” he said.
“Yes. Does that mean anything?”
“I’m not sure.” His expression said otherwise. He was concerned but seemed to be holding back his thoughts for her sake. “Was there a card?”
“Susan said there wasn’t.” She stabbed her spoon in the sorbet and set it on the table beside her. “I’m scared. I can’t stop looking for Gina, but I am terrified.”
Adler looked her in the eye. “You’re not in this alone, Kaitlin. I’ve got your back.”
She believed him, and that calmed some of the fears enough for her to say, “I had a dream just a few minutes ago. I woke to the alarm in the hallway. I was so terrified. I was drenched in sweat.”
“Tell me about the dream.”
“It was the moment I was stabbed. My attacker said, ‘I am coming back for you. You deserve to be punished.’”
Adler leaned forward. His eyes were intent, but his voice was calm. “What do you remember about him?”
“I never saw his face.”
“His voice? A mark on his hands? A smell?”
She drew in a breath. “The voice was muffled. A whisper. He sounded angry and frustrated, like I’d screwed up his plans.” She tried to relax her clenched fists. “His hands were smooth. His breath smelled of peppermint.”
“That’s more than you first recalled.”
“My head is finally clearing.”
“Did anything about this man’s voice remind you of the man that took Gina?”
A swell of emotion tightened her voice. “No. I know it’s been fourteen years, but nothing about this guy made me think of Gina’s kidnapper. I know this guy wasn’t on the road that night.”
“Who would care about this case as much as you now?”
“Gina and I don’t have any family left to speak of, but her face was in the news so much fourteen years ago. Even last year a reporter did a story about her unsolved case.”
“Someone might see themselves as Gina’s champion.”
“And he’s come back for all the girls on the road with her that last night. Jennifer is dead. Erika’s missing. And I’m stabbed.” She felt vulnerable and fought a rush of tears.
“He’s not going to hurt you,” Adler said.
“I’ve survived years of self-destructive behavior. Now I’m faced with a real threat, and I’m afraid of dying. How’s that for a turnaround?”
“It’s healthy. And I’m going to keep you safe.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m very good at what I do.”
She searched his face for any sign that he was playing her. “I’m going to have to believe you, Detective Adler. You’re all I’ve got right now.”
A grin tugged at the edge of his lips as he set his sorbet on the side table next to hers. “I met with Ashley Ralston.”
She sensed he didn’t share his thoughts easily either. “I remember her. She’s four years older than me.”
“What do you remember about her?”
“When I saw her at a July Fourth party, she had a bruise on her cheek. I can’t remember the reason she gave then, but I didn’t question it.”
“You think Derek hit her?”
“I can’t say for sure. But they were dating at the time.”
“What about Hayward? Was he around?”
“He was at that party and several others. He was around a lot that summer.”
“How tight were you with Hayward?” he asked.
“There was a time when I thought he was the answer to all the pain I carried after my brother’s death. For a brief time I forgot about all the guilt and suffering and had fun.” She plucked at a thread on her blanket. “But his smiles hid a lot of darkness.”
“When did you two stop dating?”
“Right after that July Fourth party in 2004.”
“Why’d you break it off?”
“He lost his temper, and he hit me.”
Adler didn’t comment, but a muscle pulsed in his jaw. “Did he hurt any other girls?”
“I’m sure he did. He showed no remorse when he struck me.”
Fury smoldered in his eyes. “He will spend the rest of his life behind bars.”
“What about his deal?”
“I’ll find a loophole. When do you get discharged?”
“Thursday morning.”
“You have a ride and a brush?”
She smiled, reminding herself that relying on him too much was a slippery slope. “Got them both covered,” she lied.
INTERVIEW FILE #18
MORE FRIENDS—NADINE SPENCER
Friday, March 2, 2018; 2:00 p.m.
Nadine Spencer touches the microphone that’s clipped to her lapel and glances nervously toward me. “This seems weird.”
I sit in the chair across from the tall, big-boned woman. Her cheeks are a little too pink and her eyelids too blue for her pale skin. She is dressed in an expensive white silk blouse and slacks that tug at her pudgy frame in all the wrong places. Hair dyed-blond hair skims her shoulders, and though the color is flattering, an overabundance of spray leaves her coif stiff and unnatural.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? God, after that night. The senior class is bonded forever.” She shakes her head. “I was supposed be there with you, but I had a date with Randy Hayward.”
“Randy? I didn’t realize you two were close.”
“Not exactly close. And honestly, I was relieved when the date ended. He was weird that night.”
“How so?”
“Wired. Angry. Physical.” She rubs her hand over her arm as if soothing an old wound. “Now that I know he was a drug addict, it makes sense.”
“Did he ever talk about Gina?”
“Sure. He asked me if she still had her v-card.” Nadine sits silent for a moment. “That was odd, even for Randy.”
“Knowing Gina, what do you think happened to her?”
Nadine folds a small sticky note and creases the edges until the paper frays. “I think Gina’s temper is what got her.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I believe whoever took her thought he had a sweet, gentle girl. But she was a strong athlete who was a soccer goalie. I bet she landed a good kick or two and she hurt the guy. That set him off, and he killed her.” She shakes her head. “Breaks my heart to think about all the damage done by one sick person. My daddy used to say fear and self-pity don’t mend broken hearts. He said anger does because it motivates us to do the impossible.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Tuesday, March 20, 2018; 9:00 a.m.
A cold front had blown into Richmond, chasing away any hint of spring they’d enjoyed a few days ago. It was thirty degrees when Adler arrived at the Main Street Station office complex.
Turning up the collar of his overcoat, he pushed into the marble lobby. A check of the directory told him Davenport was on the third floor. He rode the elevator and followed the signs to a
n open doorway at the end of the hall. There was no one at the receptionist desk, and the door behind it was closed. This gave him a moment to study the room’s rich Oriental carpet, the three overstuffed waiting chairs, and a stack of sleek magazines catering to the wealthy. He rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Hello.”
“Yes, I’m here.” The door opened to a man wearing dark pleated pants, a white collared shirt, and blue tie. He was in his midthirties, had sandy-brown hair, and looked like a former jock carrying an extra thirty pounds. After he took a good look at Adler, he reached for a suit jacket and pulled it on.
“I’m Tom Davenport.” He smiled and extended his hand.
Adler shook it and then reached for his badge. “I’m Detective John Adler.”
“Detective.” The smile waned. “What can I do for you?”
