Read Double Jeopardy (Entangled Select) Online

Authors: Linda Wisdom

Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Romantic Suspense, #contemporary romance

Double Jeopardy (Entangled Select) (4 page)

BOOK: Double Jeopardy (Entangled Select)
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“No one keeps things this neat,” she sneered, closing the drawer that held bras in a variety of vibrant colors. “She’s either very anal retentive, or has a housekeeper who puts it all away for her.” She pulled open another drawer and found silk chemises and camis. She resisted the urge to take one as she finished exploring each drawer. She recognized a cream-and-black silk nightgown as one she’d admired in Victoria’s Secret at the mall a few weeks ago but hadn’t bought because she’d known it wasn’t her style.

The jewelry she discovered was good quality costume except for a pair of diamond stud earrings and a diamond pendant tucked away in a small midnight-blue velvet pouch secured in the bottom dresser drawer.

She angrily envied the brass headboard and footboard, the quilted comforter splashed with shades of soft yellow, blue, peach, rose, and soft green. She clenched her hands to prevent them from picking up the comforter and ripping it.

She found the doctor’s reading material in the bedside table; a few mysteries and a horror novel featuring a half-naked vampire on the cover.

“Josh is much nicer looking.” Her fingers found something hard and unyielding under the pile of magazines. “Well, what do we have here?” She pulled out a deadly looking handgun. And found it loaded. “My, my, Lauren, aren’t you full of surprises? I never would have imagined you for the violent type. I do hope you have a permit for this nasty little item. Josh doesn’t like women who break the law.”

She next wandered into the blue-and-peach-decorated bathroom, opening bottles of bath oil set on a shelf above the bathtub so she could sniff the contents of each. The dusting powder matched the fragrance of one of the bath oils.

After that, she dug through the drawer Lauren kept her makeup in, studying colors of eye shadow and blush, even feeling bold enough to try one of the blushes on her cheek, then wiping it off after she decided the color wasn’t for her. The bathroom cabinet yielded little other than a bottle of Tylenol, some Alka-Seltzer, and a packet of birth control pills. The latter bothered her the most. Had they been seeing each other on the sly and she hadn’t found out about it? She’d have to do a little more checking.

She only wished she could find some illegal drugs. Something to pin on her.

“Why bother with anything else? She’s a doctor and can prescribe herself any old thing she needs.”

Everything she picked up was replaced in the exact same spot with meticulous care. She didn’t want to give Lauren any reason to suspect someone had been there. This was the best part of the game to her. She’d found out long ago she enjoyed walking through a person’s house, touching their things, finding out their secrets, all while making sure she left no trace of her presence.

She should have gone to Josh’s house. She enjoyed her visits there the most. No matter that he’d changed the locks a couple times and even recently added a security system. She was still able to go in whenever she wanted to.

She laughed to herself as a memory surfaced. She wondered if Josh ever noticed that one of his T-shirts was missing. She’d slept so much better since she’d exchanged her nightgowns for the shirt. If she closed her eyes and thought real hard, she’d almost believe it was him wrapped around her instead of the soft cotton.

Her eyes flew open; the rage she’d kept so carefully tamped down was beginning to surface. For a moment her hand trembled violently, as if it would suddenly develop a mind of its own and sweep the granite countertop surface clean. She turned away before her darker side emerged. It was time to leave.

She changed her mind. She wanted to leave Lauren with something to think about. She wanted her to wonder if someone had been in her house. She wanted her to worry a little. Nothing overt. No, it had to be something very subtle.

She looked around until she found the perfect method. She moved toward the dresser and picked up a bottle of perfume, touching the frosted glass tip to her pulse points. She waited a moment and sniffed her inner wrist. Not a fragrance she would normally wear, but the idea of wearing the bitch’s perfume taken from her bottle was too much to resist.

She applied the scent to each wrist, behind each ear, between her breasts, and behind her knees. She then, very carefully, placed the bottle’s top on the dresser’s surface. A drop of perfume fell onto the highly polished wood, leaving a smudged spot. She stepped back to study the picture it made.

Perfect
.

Chapter Four

Lauren sensed a difference in the atmosphere the moment she stepped inside her house. A dark memory started to intrude, making it hard for her to breathe. She abruptly shoved it out and found it easier to take in air as she decided to see if the uneasy feeling was only imaginary.

She first looked around her kitchen, searching for something
, anything
, out of order that would cause the subtle shift in the air she felt. She even took a quick inventory of the contents of the cabinets and pantry.

“Stop with the imagination,” she ordered herself, as she braced her hand on the counter and used her toes to push her shoes off while reaching into a cabinet for a wineglass. “You’re just overtired and looking for the bogeyman.”

She pulled a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator and filled a glass. She decided a hot bubble bath was in order before she could even think about dinner.

But her unsettling feeling refused to go away as she looked around the kitchen. As she walked down the hallway, she couldn’t stop herself from pausing at the doorway to each room and taking a quick look inside. That troubled feeling deep in her bones refused to leave her, although she couldn’t find anything out of place. As she looked at her computer, she felt the urge to turn the power on and see if any of the files had been looked at. She suddenly shook her head to rid herself of the feeling and left the room before she gave in to her paranoia.

From the moment she walked into her bedroom she knew her imagination wasn’t going overboard. Lauren’s first thought was that someone had taken her gun, but a quick search in her nightstand drawer proved it was still there. While looking around, she finally realized what bothered her: the scent of her perfume lingered in the air.

“Good going,” she chided herself, seeing the perfume bottle top lying on the dresser. She was disgusted with herself as she picked up the cut-glass stopper and stared down at the polished wood, now marred by the liquid dripping from the glass. She couldn’t believe she’d been in so much of a hurry that morning that she hadn’t put the top back on the bottle. She couldn’t even use the excuse that perhaps her cleaning lady had done it, since this wasn’t her day to come in. She replaced the stopper and promptly headed for the bathroom.

She began running her bath water and pouring in bath salts before quickly stripping off her clothing. It wasn’t until Lauren had settled back in the hot water with a sigh of relief that an unsettling thought struck her so hard she almost bolted out of the tub to recheck all the door and window locks to make sure they had been secured.

She hadn’t worn that particular perfume today
.


“I want to thank you for talking to the group on such short notice. I couldn’t believe our scheduled speaker canceled at the last minute.” Gail walked with Josh out of the high school building into the parking lot. “There’s always someone who can tell them how to build their self-esteem, but the important thing they need to hear is that there is hope, if they’re willing to take the chance. And the only person they should hear it from is a member of the bar.”

“I didn’t mind doing it. Although I wasn’t sure at first that they would be willing to listen to me. They might have preferred hearing from a woman prosecutor.” Josh shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other as he pulled his car keys out of his pants pocket.

“Maybe so, but you’re so active in helping battered women that I felt they would listen to you. You look about as non-threatening as a teddy bear when you’re in your small-town-lawyer mode,” Gail insisted with an impish grin, as she patted his cheek.

He affected a mock snarl. “I have to admit, I was impressed by the size of the group. A lot of brave ladies were in there.”

Her face darkened. “They have to be brave in order to endure the hell they live.”

Josh stopped by Gail’s small compact car, waiting as she unlocked the door. “Changes can’t happen overnight, Gail. At least now, if the wife is physically abused by her husband, the abuser is automatically taken in as long as the police are called in. It’s a step in the right direction, but women still need to take that next big step by getting up the courage to get out of the abusive relationship before it’s too late.”

“It’s not always that easy.”

Josh noticed her bleak expression. “You?”

For a moment he thought she was going to evade his question. She lifted her head and looked squarely at him. “Can you honestly think I would put up with an abusive relationship?”

He remembered the stories of the petite policewoman bringing in burly suspects more than twice her size without any problems and chuckled. “After what I’ve heard, I’d tend to think you were the one handing out the black eyes in a relationship.”

She laughed at that. “Yeah, I’m a real tough guy.” She glanced at her watch. “Say, would you like to go somewhere for a drink or a cup of coffee?” She immediately backpedaled when Josh hesitated. “Hey, it’s all right. I understand if you have other things to do.”

“Jury selection for the Watson case is tomorrow, and I like to take the night before to read over the files again and psyche myself up,” he explained. “How about another time?”

“Sure.” She opened the door and slid into her car. She switched on the engine. “Good night, Josh, and thanks again.”

“Gail?”

She looked up.

“I think it’s great you work so hard for this support group for battered women. That if, for one reason or another, they don’t seek help from a shelter, they can find out they have another option until they feel strong enough to make a decision by coming to this group and learning they’re not alone.”

“You’ve always been very supportive in battered women’s issues, so I knew you would understand why I wanted to find an alternative for them.” She ran her palm along the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, too many women refuse to admit they’re being abused or that it’s wrong to be abused, but thanks to their relatives or friends urging them to find help, there are a few who are coming around to face the truth. For each one that happens, I’ll throw a party. For each one I lose,” her face was a study in darkness, “well, I’ll pray for the day the abuser gets his. Good night, Josh.”

Josh tried to ignore the unsettling feeling he experienced as he watched her drive away. For all the time they’d worked together and the few times they’d dated, he still wondered how much of her he didn’t know.

When he reached his car, he unlocked the door and stepped back in revulsion as he stared at a small, square-shaped clay pot filled with an unfamiliar flowering plant that had been set with great care in the middle of the driver’s seat. He leaned closer for a better look and recoiled as the distinctive scent of Obsession perfumed the car’s interior.

“Interesting choice of plant life, Josh,” Kevin said, as Josh waited impatiently by a patrol car while his own car was dusted for fingerprints and the interior examined for a hopeful clue.

He was not amused. “Maybe she couldn’t find any roses at this hour.”

The detective inclined his head toward the car. “Hawkins, whose hobby is plants, told me what kind of plant was left. You’re the proud owner of
kudzu
.”


Kudzu
? What the hell is that?”

“Hey, I only know roses because if I don’t buy them for the wife on her birthday and our anniversary, I’m in big trouble. One of the other guys says it’s used as ground cover. Why you got it, we have no idea. Maybe she’s finally leaving clues to her identity. Which I wouldn’t mind one bit. The least she could do is give us a hint. It’d make my job easier.” He scratched the back of his head.

“What the hell is she trying to do? Is she going to start following me wherever I go now?” Josh was ready to explode with the frustration boiling up inside him. “Am I going to have to look over my shoulder from now on? What’s next? Is she going to freak out one day and kill me or some innocent person?”

“Hey, calm down, buddy.” Kevin held up his hands to stem Josh’s words. “Josh, we’re going to make sure it doesn’t go that far. Look, we may not have all the resources that LA has, but we do have a bunch of men who aren’t going to let anything happen to you. You’re the only prosecutor with a decent conviction rate.”

He nodded. “I know. It’s just making me nuts. I can’t help but wonder. I’ve already lost a wardrobe. What’s next?”

Kevin grinned. “If I were you, I’d make sure to keep my insurance premiums paid up.”

“You are one sick bastard.”

“Yeah, but a cop has to be. It’s the only way we can do our jobs and remain somewhat sane.”

“Then find this woman before I do. Because so help me, I don’t care if she is a woman, if I find her first, I’ll beat the living shit out of her for doing this to me and the people I care about.” He knew he sounded like a hypocrite for all the work he does in helping battered women. But he didn’t consider this woman human.


Lauren had no idea where they were going for dinner. She’d been kidding when she’d suggested to Josh that they go to Rothschild’s and had given him a call back, asking him to surprise her. Although the choices in the small desert town weren’t many, most of the restaurants were geared for the tourist trade that stopped to eat on their way to the Arizona border, and all served good quality food. She figured she was safe wearing black silk pants with a black silk tank and red jacket.

“I really should consider getting a dog,” she told her reflection as she looked into the mirror and applied mascara. “Then I’d have a good reason to talk out loud and someone to keep unwanted visitors out.” She lifted her head when she heard the doorbell chime.

Josh stood on the doorstep wearing slacks, instead of his usual dress jeans.

“Come on in,” she invited, as she pulled open the door. “Would you like a drink?”

He shook his head. “No thanks. I made reservations for seven-thirty. I would have brought you flowers, but I’ve sort of developed an aversion to them,” he explained, helping her with her coat.

“Just bring chocolate and I’ll be your slave forever.” She made sure the heavy-duty deadbolt was engaged when they walked back outside.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He led her down the walkway to his car and opened the passenger door for her. “You’re out of LA, right?”

“Right in the heart of it.”

“Not many people would leave what had to have been ultramodern facilities to come out here, where the city complains every time we need pencils.”

“I went through a bad divorce and needed a change of scenery. One of my instructors from medical school knew about this position. I think his letter of recommendation counted more than my qualifications. Plus, they wanted a forensic specialist out here so they could keep up with the times.”

“Yeah, we have a bunch of good ole boys out here,” he agreed. “How long were you married?”

“Six years.” Her distaste was evident. “And not one of my favorite subjects.”

Josh took the hint. “Well, let’s see. I’m not sure I could discuss your work on an empty stomach, I haven’t prosecuted any interesting cases for quite some time, and I’ve never been one to talk about the weather or politics. Have any suggestions?”

“Did you watch the Christopher Lee movie marathon on cable last night?”

“Of course.” He rapidly warmed to his subject. “Although I admit I’m more of a traditionalist and prefer the classics.”

“Same here. I see enough blood and gore in my work that I don’t need to see it during my time off.”

During the short drive to the restaurant, they kept up a running debate as to which film epitomized a true horror classic.

“Karloff could scare anyone with his eyes alone,” Lauren insisted.

“You want to be scared?” he dared. “Look at Lon Chaney, Senior. The man was an artist at frightening a person,” he told her, as he climbed out of the car and walked around to help her out.

The moment Josh gave the headwaiter his name, they were shown to their table and handed menus.

“What got you interested in pathology, anyway?” Josh asked after they had been offered a drink. Since he was driving, he decided to stick to club soda. Lauren ordered a glass of chardonnay.

She smiled. It wasn’t difficult to understand his curiosity. “I know. People, especially men, can’t understand why, when it’s not known as a specialty most women doctors are interested in. Even more so with my subspecialty being forensic pathology.”

“I admit it’s not easy for me to visualize you down in the morgue with Igor, cutting up corpses.”

Lauren thought of the problems she had with her assistant and began to think the nickname fit the man. “There are days I wonder why I got into it, but I’ve never regretted my decision. I became fascinated in the field during my intern’s rotation in pathology,” she said, looking up with a smile as her wineglass was set in front of her. “The head pathologist was one of these diggers. By that, I mean he enjoyed digging for the truth. He kept on top of everything new in his field, attending seminars dealing with new techniques and all. He always said,
Why use a hammer and chisel to write when you can use a computer?
So why not search for better ways to detect the cause of death? I did my residency under him and learned it wasn’t wrong to question what might look like the truth and to keep an open mind in my work. I soon developed an interest in forensic medicine and took on studies of the subject and began some research. The first thing I learned was that the best qualification for that kind of work is a strong stomach, since there’s no such thing as a clean murder.”

Josh thought about some of the murder scenes he’d visited in the past. “You’re right on that count. Although, you won’t have the challenges here. Our homicide rate, knock on wood, is pretty low.”

“That’s why I liked the idea of having time to indulge in some research,” she replied. “What will really take up my time for a while is organizing the records.”

BOOK: Double Jeopardy (Entangled Select)
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