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Authors: Joanne Fluke

Eyes (29 page)

BOOK: Eyes
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CHAPTER 35
The phone rang three times, but no one answered. Doug had hoped to share his good news with Jill. Judge Donnely had ordered the hospital to release the records, and it had been done at eight that morning. The name of the donor was the same for all of the murder victims, just as Jill had suspected, and Doug had spent the past four hours interviewing the other patients who had received transplants from the same donor.
He had found Shelly Devore in her kindergarten classroom, had asked her a series of questions, and had assigned an officer to protect her. Miss Devore hadn't noticed anyone following her, but she had received a strange visit when she'd come home from the hospital. The visitor had been a very nice woman, in her late twenties with red hair. She'd brought Shelly flowers, but when Shelly had called to thank the hospital for sending out such a nice volunteer, they'd told her they hadn't sent out anyone.
With his fingers crossed, Doug had asked if she remembered the woman's name. Shelly had nodded. She'd said it was Charlotte West, she had remembered because one of her coworkers was named Charlotte.
The next name on Doug's list had been Kathy Miller. He had driven to her home in North Minneapolis, where he'd learned that Kathy had died, shortly before Christmas. But her sister had remembered a strange incident. Flowers had been delivered for Kathy, a huge bouquet without a card. The woman who'd delivered them, a pretty redhead in her late twenties who'd said her name was Chloe White, had told them the flowers were from Kathy's friend, Alan. They were still puzzling over the mystery bouquet. Kathy had never mentioned a friend named Alan.
Ian Perkins was next on Doug's list, and he'd gone to Ian's sixth-grade classroom. Ian, a bright eleven-year-old, had been very cooperative. He'd remembered a woman who had come to visit when he was in the convalescent center. She'd said her name was Camille Ward, and she had been very beautiful. He was sure she'd been older than his sister, a senior in high school, but a lot younger than his mother.
Why had she visited him? Ian had smiled proudly. She'd told him that she was a volunteer from the hospital, but she had another connection to him. She'd sworn him to secrecy and he couldn't tell, but it was a wonderful secret.
It had taken a while, but Doug had persuaded Ian to confide in him. Camille had said he had her boyfriend's liver. She'd told him all about the man named Alan, and he'd sounded like a really cool guy.
Doug had assigned protection for Ian, and then he'd gone over the descriptions. It was clear that the same person had visited all the survivors, although the name had been different. Camille Ward, Chloe White, and Charlotte West. The initials were all C.W. That was too much of a coincidence. It was clear the woman had used her real initials.
While Greg had driven back to the office, Doug had glanced down at his notebook. Shortly before Willy Rossini had been murdered, he'd eaten dinner with a woman named Cherie White. Another C.W. The second victim, Mark Turner, had also known a woman with the initials C.W. His landlady had told them that Cheryl Walton, the woman who had moved into Mark's former apartment had moved again, shortly after his death. The landlady was a bit of a busybody, and she'd suspected that Mark and Cheryl had been much more than neighbors. And then there was the mystery woman that Reverend Woodard had baptized. All they had was a first name, but Crystal fit the first initial.
How did this fit in with Neil's murder? Doug frowned as he listened to Jill's phone ringing. There had been only one student in Neil's class with the initials C.W. He was a male graduate student, and Doug was sure that Chuck Waxter didn't have a place in the picture. The only other candidate was one of the staff, a temporary secretary named Cindy Wyatt. Cindy fit the description, but she had an alibi. Her boyfriend swore she'd been with him all evening.
Another piece of the puzzle was worrying Doug. The serial killer, the woman who had brutally murdered four people, had spared Shelly Devore and Ian Perkins. She'd killed only grown men, but Doug wasn't sure if that was a factor.
“Damn!” Doug glared at the phone. Jill had told him that she and Connie were leaving today, and they must have hit the road early. Now he'd have to wait to tell her about his progress until she came back on Wednesday.
He had mixed emotions about what Jill had described as her mini vacation. He really hadn't wanted her to leave, but he'd known that a change of scene might help. She'd been complaining about the heat and how uncomfortable it made her, so Connie was taking her to a bed-and-breakfast lodge on a Northern Minnesota lake. The fresh air and cooler temperatures would be a relief for Jill, but Doug wished he knew exactly where she'd gone. When he'd asked, she hadn't known the name of the lake, but she'd promised to call.
There was a knock on Doug's door and Greg came in, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “Jesus! It's hot out there!”
“I know, but maybe that's good. It's too hot for street crime!” Greg looked surprised and Doug explained. “Look at the stats. Street crime drops way below normal twice a year. In the hottest month of the summer and the coldest month of the winter.”
“Okay. I believe you. And I can understand about the winter. Nobody wants to hang around outside when it's twenty degrees below zero.”
“Right.” Doug nodded. “Hot weather's just the reverse. If all you can think about is cooling off, you're going to stay home in front of the fan. It's even too hot for fights. People just don't have the energy.”
Greg dropped into a chair and fanned his face. “You can say that again! I'm bushed and it's only ten in the morning. Do we really have to wear ties?”
“I'm afraid so.” Doug picked up his jacket and slipped it on. “The donor's family is in the social register, and the maid won't let us in the front door if we don't.”
* * *
“I just don't understand why I'm so tired.” Jill yawned again. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Connie nodded. “That's because we're out of the city and you're starting to relax. Why don't you take a little nap? I'll wake you up when we get there.”
“Maybe I will.”
Connie smiled as Jill leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. She'd added one of Jill's sedatives to her orange juice that morning, and it was working perfectly. The doctor had prescribed them to help Jill sleep, but after the first two nights, she had decided not to take them. There had been twenty-eight left in the bottle and a refill on the prescription. Now Connie had fifty-eight pills in her purse. She planned to use them to keep Jill sedated until the baby was born.
Are you sure they won't hurt the baby?
There was concern in Alan's voice, and Connie shook her head. She glanced over at Jill, who was sleeping soundly, and then she replied softly. “No. They're fine. Her obstetrician prescribed them.”
Very good.
Alan seemed satisfied, and Connie smiled. He should have known that she wouldn't take any chances with their baby. She drove in silence for a few more miles. Then Alan spoke again.
The detective is bound to start looking for her when she doesn't come back to town. Are you sure you didn't leave any clues?
“I'm positive. It's going to work out perfectly, Alan. I've got everything under control.”
But he knows you're going to a lake. She told him that.
“That's true.” Connie gave a soft giggle. “But this is Minnesota. Remember what it says on the license plates?”
The Land of Ten Thousand Lakes.
Alan laughed, and Connie joined in.
That's very funny, Connie.
Connie grinned as she nodded. “Thank you, darling. Even if he checked over a hundred lakes a day, he couldn't cover them all in a year. We're safe, Alan. And our baby's safe, too.”
* * *
“Constance Wilson?” Doug jotted it down in his notebook. “And she was engaged to marry your son?”
Mrs. Stanford nodded. “I'm afraid so. She was totally unsuitable, but Alan was completely infatuated with her.”
“Could you please describe her?”
“I'm afraid I can't.” Mrs. Stanford turned to her daughter. “I never met her, but Beth did.”
Beth nodded. “Alan introduced us. She was about my height with brown hair and green eyes. She was on the thin side, but she had a very good figure.”
“Any identifying features? Birthmarks? Moles?”
Beth shook her head. “Not that I remember.”
“How about glasses? Did she wear them?”
“No. Would it help to see a picture of her? There might be one in storage.”
Doug nodded. “I'd appreciate it, Miss Stanford.”
“We put all our dear son's things in storage after his death.” Mrs. Stanford rang the buzzer by her chair. “There were several framed photographs, and if I remember correctly, Miss Wilson was the subject of one. If you can wait for just a moment, Detective Lake, I'll have my butler take you to them.”
* * *
“We're here, Jill.”
Jill opened her eyes to see Connie smiling at her. “How long did I sleep?”
“The whole way. What do you think? Isn't it beautiful?”
Jill sat up and peered out the window at the lake cottage. It looked like a log cabin except it was much larger. There were green shutters on the windows and a series of rustic balconies on the second floor. “It's gorgeous! But . . . where are the other cars?”
“That's my surprise.” Connie got out of the car and opened Jill's door. “We're the only guests, Jill. Since it's the off-season, I rented the whole place.”
At first Jill was a bit disconcerted, but as she stepped into the lovely cabin, she was glad that she and Connie were alone. “It's perfect, Connie. And you're a darling for thinking of it. If I weren't so sleepy, I'd explore the whole place right now.”
Connie laughed. “There's all the time in the world, Jill. We can explore it later. Right now, I want to show you your room and let you finish your nap.”
Connie led her up the staircase and opened the door on the left, revealing a gorgeous bedroom with walls of knotty pine, a built-in dresser, and a king-sized bed.
“It's so beautiful!” Jill glanced out the balcony doors. The lake was sparkling in the sun, and a light breeze was rustling through the tall stately pines that lined the shore. She wanted to go down to the shore to gather some of the huge pinecones scattered beneath the trees. They'd make wonderful Christmas decorations for next year. But she was simply too tired to do anything at all. “Maybe you're right, Connie. I'm sorry I'm such rotten company, but I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Connie nodded and patted the bed. “Just stretch out and get comfortable, Jill. I brought your preggie pillow. I'll open the balcony doors so you'll have a nice breeze.”
“Thank you.” Jill glanced at her watch as she stretched out on the bed. The trip had taken two hours. Even though she'd slept for most of the way, she was still tired. “I can't understand why I'm so sleepy. I must have been much more exhausted than I realized.”
Connie nodded and opened the balcony doors. “Just sleep, Jill. You need the rest. I'll take care of all the unpacking, and then I'll make something to eat. You'll be hungry when you wake up.”
“Yes. I suppose I will.” Jill closed her eyes and snuggled under the light blanket Connie had given her. The bed was comfortable, the breeze was delicious. She'd never felt so relaxed. Connie was right. She'd needed a vacation, and this was wonderful. She only wished that Doug were here to enjoy it with her.
* * *
“Are you sure this is Connie Wilson?” Doug blinked as he stared at the silver-framed picture.
“I'm sure.” Beth nodded. “That's exactly the way she looked when I met her at Alan's condo.”
Doug swallowed hard as he stared at the familiar face. Connie Wilson was the deranged woman who'd broken into the University Hospital Morgue to see her boyfriend's body. “Miss Stanford, I'm sorry if this brings back painful memories, but do you know whether your brother's body was held in the University Hospital Morgue?”
“Yes. They kept him on life support until they could . . .” Beth blinked several times and took a deep breath. “. . . harvest his organs. Then he was taken to the morgue.”
“Here's another picture.” The butler handed Beth a snapshot. “I'm not sure it's Miss Wilson, though.”
Beth glanced down at the snapshot and then nodded. “It's Connie. Alan showed me this picture. It was taken right after he met her, before she let her hair go back to its natural color. She looks like a different person as a blonde, doesn't she, Detective?”
“Yes, she does.” Doug's hands started to tremble as he examined the snapshot. Her hair was a lighter shade of blond and she wasn't wearing glasses, but she was clearly recognizable. It was another C.W., one he'd missed, one who was linked to Neil. This was a picture of Connie Walters, Jill's housekeeper!
“Are you all right, Detective?” The chauffeur looked very concerned.
“Yeah. I'm okay.” Doug took a deep breath and steadied himself. There was no doubt in his mind. Connie Walters was the serial killer, and Jill had gone off on a vacation with her!
CHAPTER 36
When Jill woke up, it was after four. She'd slept almost the entire day! She dressed in maternity jeans and a short-sleeved top and went down the stairs to find Connie.
“Hi.” Connie looked up as she came into the kitchen. “Did you have a good nap?”
Jill nodded. “I guess! I practically slept the whole day away.”
“You probably needed the rest.” Connie opened the oven and a delicious aroma filled the room. “I'm baking bread. When that comes out, I've got a pie all ready to go in. We're going to have a Waldorf salad, home-baked bread, and blueberry pie for dessert.”
“That sounds wonderful! When will it be ready?”
“In about an hour.” Connie closed the oven and turned to smile at Jill. “You haven't eaten since breakfast. Are you hungry?”
Jill nodded. “I'm starved!”
“Good. There's a bowl of fruit on the table. Grab an apple or a banana to tide you over, and I'll unpack your suitcase.”
“But I can do that. You shouldn't work so hard, Connie.”
“Nonsense.” Connie smiled at her. “There's an old-fashioned porch swing that faces the lake, right outside the back door. Why don't you try it out and enjoy the view?”
Jill nodded. “Okay . . . if you're sure I can't help you.”
“I'm sure. There's a pile of magazines next to the swing if you get bored. I'll call you in when dinner is ready.”
Jill wandered out to the back porch and sighed in contentment as she settled down on the swing. It was a luxury, not having anything to do for five whole days. She tucked her feet up on the cushion and positioned a pillow behind her back. The swing moved gently, and she felt like a child rocked in her mother's arms. The view was just as wonderful as Connie had said. Jill smiled as she glanced at the shoreline.
The lake wasn't large, and she could see the cabins on the opposite shore. A large A-frame, directly across the water, caught Jill's eye. It was bigger than all the other cabins, and it had a huge lawn that was a lovely emerald green color. Jill counted the number of windows in the place and realized that it was too big to belong to a single family. It had to be a lodge or a country club or maybe even a restaurant. Her curiosity aroused, Jill decided to drive over for a closer look.
Her car keys were on the table. She had noticed them when she'd come down from her room. She went back inside to get them and walked quickly to her car.
But it wouldn't start! The engine refused to turn over. Jill frowned and tried it again, but her effort resulted in nothing but a click and then silence. This could be very bad. What if she went into labor and they were stuck here with a car that wouldn't start?
She hurried back to the cabin and raced upstairs. “Connie, I was going to take a drive around the lake, but my car won't start!”
“I know.” Connie nodded. “I was going to park it under the car port, and it wouldn't start for me, either.”
“But what if the baby comes early?” Jill was in a near panic state.
“Don't worry.” Connie smiled at her. “I've already called for someone to fix it.”
Jill drew in a deep sigh of relief. “I should have known! You take such good care of me.”
“I try.” Connie seemed pleased by the compliment. “There is a slight problem though. The mechanic doesn't work on weekends, and he can't get out here until Monday.”
“But—”
Connie interrupted her. “Relax, Jill. I talked to the local paramedics. They can be here in less than five minutes. The fire station is just up the road, and there's always at least one paramedic on duty.”
Jill nodded. “You've got all the bases covered. Forget I even asked, okay?”
“Okay.” Connie laughed. “Since you're here, what do you want me to do with your briefcase? You promised me you wouldn't work while we were here.”
“Is there a top shelf in the closet?”
Connie nodded. “Yes.”
“Perfect. Throw it up there and I won't be tempted.”
“Great idea!” Connie turned on the light in the closet and tossed Jill's briefcase on the top shelf. “Congratulations,” she said. “Now that your work's out of reach, you have nothing to do but enjoy yourself.”
* * *
They'd searched Jill's house, but they hadn't found a clue to the place where Connie had taken her. Doug had gone home, hoping that Jill would keep her promise to call, but he knew that was unlikely. His team was busy calling every bed-and-breakfast in Northern Minnesota, but Doug doubted they'd be successful. It was foolish to assume that Connie had told Jill the truth about where they were going.
Connie could have taken her anywhere, even out of state. The reverse was also true. They could be holed up in a motel on the edge of town, and Doug would never find them. Only one thing gave Doug hope. Connie had killed only adult male transplant recipients. Jill was female, and she hadn't had a transplant. Connie would have no reason to kill her.
The phone rang and Doug reached out to grab it. It was a woman's voice, but it wasn't Jill.
“Detective Lake? This is Beth Stanford. You told me to call you if I thought of anything I hadn't told you about Connie.”
“Yes, Beth?” Doug's heart beat a rapid tattoo in his chest.
“Connie was pregnant. Alan told us on Thanksgiving Day. That's why they wanted to get married right away.”
Doug frowned. Was it possible that he was wrong? Connie had started to work for Neil and Jill in May, and she certainly hadn't been pregnant!
“She had a miscarriage when they told her Alan was dead.” Beth sighed deeply. “While she was in the hospital, my father had the movers pack up the condo. He put Connie's things in the manager's office, and he changed the locks so she couldn't get in.”
Doug couldn't help flinching. Mr. Stanford sounded like a real bastard.
“I can't help feeling sorry for her, Detective. Connie lost the home she shared with Alan. And she lost all of his things, even the photographs of him. She even lost his baby, the only part of him that was left alive.”
Except for the transplants!
Doug's eyes widened as he thought of it. “Just one more thing, Beth. Do you think Connie knew about Alan's donor card?”
“I know she did. Our lawyer told her. He thought it might help to make her feel better, knowing that a part of Alan lived on.”
“Thank you. You've been very helpful.” Doug hung up, a thoughtful expression on his face. The pieces were starting to fall into place. Now he knew Connie's motive.
* * *
Jill sighed and reached out to turn on the light. It was no use. She couldn't sleep. She'd slept so much earlier that she simply couldn't sleep any longer.
The cup of hot chocolate Connie had made was still on her bedside table. Jill carried it to the connecting bathroom and dumped it down the drain. She hadn't wanted to hurt Connie's feelings, and she'd pretended to enjoy it, but it was the worst hot chocolate she'd ever had. It must have been the sweetener Connie used, but it was slightly bitter with an unpleasant aftertaste.
Jill opened the French doors and shivered slightly. The night was much colder than the day had been. There were two chaise longues, side by side on the balcony. Jill could imagine sitting out there with Doug, holding hands and watching the stars glitter above them. He knew how to be companionably silent, something that Neil had never learned. To Neil, silence had been nothing but a void waiting to be filled by the sound of his own voice.
Thinking about Neil made Jill feel sad. He hadn't been the right husband for her, but no one deserved to die the way he had. Although Doug had spared her the details, she did not doubt that her husband had suffered a fate similar to the other victims'. Doug should have the name of the donor by now, and he'd be interviewing the other transplant recipients. For all she knew, he could be arresting the killer right now, and when she got back, the case would be solved.
Jill picked up the phone on her dresser. She was anxious to find out how much Doug had learned from the hospital records, whether he had the killer in custody. It was almost midnight, but Doug had told her to call him at any time.
There was no dial tone. Jill hung up and tried again. The line was completely dead. The phone had been working earlier in the day. Connie had said she'd called the garage, and she had also spoken to the paramedics. This must be a temporary problem. They'd probably fix it tomorrow. Jill wasn't worried. Even in the worst-case scenario, Connie could walk to the fire station for help.
She was disappointed, though. She'd been looking forward to hearing Doug's voice. She couldn't sleep, and she didn't feel like reading. What could she do to fill the time?
The moment she thought of it, Jill grabbed a warm sweater. She'd sit out on the balcony and watch the silvery path the moon cast on the surface of the lake. It would be peaceful, and she would enjoy a little solitude. She hadn't really had any time to herself since she'd hired Connie.
As she put on her sweater, the top button popped off and rolled under her bed. When Jill got down on her hands and knees to retrieve it, she saw that someone had stored several large boxes under her mattress. They certainly weren't hers. She'd brought only one suitcase, a tote bag, and her briefcase. A former guest must have left them here.
Although she knew she had no right to invade someone else's privacy, Jill's curiosity got the better of her. She pulled out one of the boxes and read the stamp on the side. The box was from Susie's Babyland, a shop in the mall only a mile from her house. And the picture on the front panel showed that it contained a bassinet.
“What on earth . . . ?” Jill pulled out another box. This one had already been opened, and Jill glanced inside. It held a complete layette and a box of disposable diapers, newborn size. Jill didn't bother to pull out the third box. Its contents were written plainly on the side. Starter Kit—Enfamil. Complete Bottles and Liners Included.
Jill sat back on her heels and frowned deeply. Had Connie planned a surprise baby shower for her? Or was there another, more sinister explanation. Although Connie had said they'd only stay for five days, this room was all ready to be set up as a nursery. And she was stuck here with a phone that was dead and a car that wouldn't start.
There was no way all this could be a coincidence, and Jill was aware that panic was setting in. Was Connie planning on keeping her here until she had the baby?
Jill got up and raced to the door. She had to confront Connie, find out what was going on! But when she tried to open the door, she discovered that it was locked from the outside.
This wasn't the time to panic. She had to think clearly. It would do her no good to give way to her fear. She forced herself to tiptoe back and sit on the edge of her bed. She wasn't sure why, but Connie had brought her here and had locked her in. No one, not even Doug, knew where she was.
It took several minutes, but Jill managed to calm herself. So far, she was safe. Connie didn't know she'd found the nursery things. She thought Jill was sleeping. Of course the hot chocolate had tasted bitter. It must have been laced with a sedative. Connie probably planned on keeping her sedated until the baby was born.
She wouldn't eat any of the food Connie prepared. Or swallow the drinks she made. If she was drugged, she couldn't escape. The first thing she had to do was get word to Doug, and she had her cell phone in her purse.
Jill scowled as she pulled out the cell phone. The battery was low. She'd forgotten to recharge it. The charger was at home, plugged into the kitchen outlet, but there might be enough power for one short call. She had to make every second count. That meant she'd better plan what to say.
There was a small memo pad in her purse, and Jill pulled it out to make notes. She couldn't tell Doug the name of the lake. She didn't know it. And since she'd slept all the way here, she had no idea which turn-off they'd taken. The best she could do was say that it was a two-hour trip and describe any distinguishing features of the lake.
Jill slipped out onto the balcony to take a look. There was a small island with one tree in the center. She'd tell Doug about that. And she'd describe the large A-frame with the flagpole in front and the beautifully green lawn. If the phone was still functioning after all that, she'd tell Doug about their cabin, four bedrooms with balconies overlooking the lake and a driveway with a river-rock wall. She'd also mention that there was a dock in front with a bright blue rowboat beached on the sand.
After she'd made her notes, Jill stepped inside her closet and shut the door. She didn't want Connie to hear her talking, and this put one more wall between Connie's room and hers. Her fingers were shaking as she punched out Doug's number and she groaned as his answering machine picked up. Thank God he had a short message, but it seemed to take forever before she heard the beep.
“Doug. It's Jill. Connie's keeping me a prisoner until I have the baby; I don't know why. We're on a lake, two hours from my house. It's got a small island in the middle with one tree on it. There's a large A-frame directly across the lake with a flagpole, no flag, and a huge green lawn. It's big enough to be a hotel or a country club. Our driveway has a river-rock wall, and we have four balconies, overlook—Oh, damn!” Jill's cell phone had beeped and then disconnected. The battery was dead, and she had no way to recharge it. She just hoped she'd given Doug enough of a description for him to find her!
She slipped her cell phone into a pair of hiking boots she'd brought along on a whim, then tiptoed back out of the closet. That was when she heard it, the sound of a door banging open. Connie must have heard her voice!
BOOK: Eyes
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