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Authors: Janet Taylor-Perry

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BOOK: Lucky Thirteen
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Ray made a note in his notebook:

 

             
Visit Bertram and Associates

             
Visit Hall of Records

Question nuns at Catholic Charity Hospital

 

He was more determined than ever to find Larkin Sloan alive and, now, to find and know the other Ra
iford. He fell asleep with the cat beside him, but he had disturbing dreams all night.

9

Patient Partner

 

“Y
ou’r
e
late,” Ray said as Chris drove into the parking lot. He waited leaning against his antique Mustang.

“It’s
seven-oh-two. I brought breakfast. Coffee does not breakfast make. I know you haven’t eaten.”

“We have a lot to do.”

“They won’t even open until nine.”

“The Hall of Records opens at eight.”

“Why the Hall of Records?”

“I have a twin
.” He plunged his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“Ray?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“Well, shut up and have breakfast
. Knowing you, we’ll miss lunch, but I love you anyway. At least you obviously went home last night.” She nodded approval. “Black is your color.”

Ray
dressed in gray dress trousers with a black button-down shirt and a silver silk tie. “I wanted to make a better impression at Bertram and Associates than I did with Dr. Fairchild.”

“The navy
slacks with a light blue oxford shirt and blue striped tie you wore to conduct interviews at the school were fine.” Chris patted his cheek, and asked, “But how on Earth do two sets of adoptive parents name their kid
Raiford
? It’s not exactly the most common name, now is it?”

“Just luck I guess
.” He shrugged.

They walked into the
station together. He held the door open for her. His first stop was the printer. “Fuck me!” he blurted, holding up a document.

“What?” asked
Chris taking the printout from Ray. “Shit!” She looked up at her temporary partner, eyes wide. “Maybe you
do
have a twin. Blue Escort. That’s a lead.”

She grabbed a second fax. “Prints s
how nothing. No record, not even a traffic violation.”

Ray nodded and they sat down.
He gratefully ate the ham and cheese croissants. Stifling a burp, he commented, “If you stay around, Mom can quit harping on me about needing to gain weight. I’ll get fat.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”
Chris teased.

“No way!”
Ray raised his hands as if in surrender, nodding his head toward her navy-blue pin-striped pantsuit with a simple white silk blouse and blue loafers. “You’re beautiful.” He pointed his finger at her. “That is
not
sexual harassment.”

“I never thought it was
. Thanks for the compliment.”

“Chris, may I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you married with a houseful of kids
? You love mothering people.”

“I’m the eldest of seven
. My mother died when I was twelve. I mothered six siblings. I still have time. I’m the same age as you, Ray. I could ask you the same basic question.”

“I never met Miss Right, someone who could actually deal with being a cop’s wife
. I
was
engaged. When I got shot during a domestic disturbance call—that ended that.” He spread his hands out in front of him in a sharp, flattening motion. “She went running to the arms of my so-called best friend.”

“Marry me, Ray
.” Chris laughed. “I understand.”

Ray laughed loudly
, dimples etching deeply. “No. You’d strangle me on our wedding night. My best friend you might be, but we’re too much alike to be lovers.”

“True,” she agreed
, “but at least I’m patient enough to put up with your bullshit.”

“Well, will you go with me to the Hall of Records?”

“Yes, but
after
we go to Bertram and Associates, just in case we get bogged down going through hundreds of old records. You know the case is more important than your personal needs.”

“What if they’re connected
? What if I have an identical twin”—He picked up the printout of Raiford Gautier’s driver’s license—“who’s killed twelve women?”

“You’ll deal with it
. You can come to work for the FBI. We’re all screwed up in the head.”

“Thanks, Chris
. I’m glad to know you think I’m screwed up in the head, just not as badly as my twin.”

“Ray, somehow, I don’t think our guy is a killer
. Maybe he’s just someone who needs a little mothering. Hey! He looks as good as you. Maybe I’ll take him home with me since I can’t have you.”

Ray laughed as he dropped his Styrofoam cup into the trash
. “Well, move your butt, Mom. Let’s get to work.”

 

♣♣♣

Roughly
two hours later, Ray and Chris walked into the opulent lobby of Bertram and Associates where the patterned flooring reflected the light from the crystal chandelier. The receptionist greeted them with enthusiasm. “Mr. Gautier! How nice to see you.”

“Here we go again,”
Ray muttered. He introduced himself and Chris and asked to speak to anyone who could give them information that might help them find Mr. Gautier.

After a brief trip down the hall, t
he receptionist escorted them to the owner, Walter Bertram, himself. When they walked into the office, Mr. Bertram exclaimed, “My goodness! Janice said you looked like Ray, but this is unbelievable.”

“More unbelievable is that we have the same name,” Ray said.

“True,” agreed Mr. Bertram, shaking hands with both officials. “Please sit down, detectives. Have you finally come to investigate my missing person’s report?”

“You filed a missing person’s report?”
Ray asked.

“Yep
. And I haven’t heard a word.” Bertram moved to stand behind his chair.

“No, sir,”
Ray admitted. “That’s not why we came, but I’ll look into it. We need to find Mr. Gautier because it’s possible he’s involved in the disappearance of Larkin Sloan.”

“No way!”

“Tell us everything you can about Raiford Gautier,” said Chris as she and Ray sat in chairs on the opposite side of Bertram’s desk.

“Wow!” Bertram exclaimed. “It could take a while.” He sat down in his executive chair.

“We’re patient,” assur
ed Chris with a genuine smile.

“Ray’
s a wonderful man and a gifted architect. He’s like a son to me.”

Here we go again
. Ray shook his head.
Another surrogate child.

Walter Bertram looked fatherly to Chris with his glistening bald pate encircled by a blue-gray ring from ear to ear around the back of his head
. He was a tad on the heavy side, but his soft gray eyes defined by deep crow’s feet made him look gentle and made her think of her own father. His statement penetrated her thoughts. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been contemplating making him my partner. He’s just that good. Since I’m in the middle of a divorce, Ray’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a son because my daughter has no interest in the business. He designed the entire community where he lives. You’ve seen it, I assume, so you know how good he really is.” Bertram laced his fingers together on top of his desk.

“He does have talent,”
Ray agreed. “How did he come to be a part of your company?”

“Ray applied for an internship here when he was in college
. I’m a Tulane alum, so I offer an internship to architectural majors. His drawings were excellent, his grades outstanding. He came to work for nothing; he was on scholarship, no real income. He was here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and drove back to Tulane on Tuesdays and Thursdays for his classes.”

“And he’s been with you since?”
Ray prompted.

“Not quite
. He was a very likeable young man. I’m a sucker for a hard-luck case. So, I invited Ray to stay in our garage apartment. He ate all his meals with us. My wife did his laundry. We fell in love with him, but, more importantly, our nineteen-year-old daughter did, too. Yes, Ray loved her, too,
more
than she loved him.”

“So, he’s involved with your daughter?”
Chris asked.

Bertram frowned deeply at the memory
. “Not anymore. They went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras at my daughter’s—Abigail’s—insistence. Ray isn’t a big-crowd type. His idea of a crowd was a fraternity bash.” He chuckled slightly. “He was a Delt at Tulane, just like me.”

A Delt?
Ray could not believe this man who looked like him was in the same fraternity on a different campus.


Thousands of drunks just didn’t appeal to him, but he loved the girl. While they were there, some drunks mugged them. Ray took the worst of it. He defended Abbey. He ended up in the hospital with severe head trauma. After that, Ray started hearing voices. His doctors said he was probably schizophrenic and the brain injury aggravated the problem.
Bullshit
is what I say.” He slapped the top of his desk to emphasize his irritation. “Trauma caused it.”

Chris waited a moment for Ray to speak
. When he didn’t she asked, “So, you’re saying Mr. Gautier has a mental condition?”

The older man sighed and re-laced his fingers across his slightly protruding middle. “He started taking medication and got better
. Nonetheless, my very immature child couldn’t cope with a boyfriend with a serious psychological condition. After being physically and mentally damaged, Ray had to deal with emotional damage—Abbey’s rejection. He went home, but still managed to graduate with high honors. Ray is very intelligent and compulsively diligent.” Bertram folded his arms as if to protect his memory of Ray Gautier.

Chris took over the questions, uncertain of what had come over
her partner. “He left your company. When and how did he come back?”

“Abbey moved to New York
. I found out Ray couldn’t get a job, as brilliant as he was, because of his condition. I called him and offered him a job. When he asked about Abbey, I told him she had moved. He came back to work for me about four years ago. I’m the only one here who knows about his condition.”


How has he behaved?”

“Until his mother’s death at Christmas, Ray had
n’t had any symptoms. After her death, I think he stopped taking his meds. He started missing work, coming in late. Then, he stopped showing up. He wasn’t at home either.”

Bertram glowered at the two law enforcement officers.
“I filed a missing person’s report, but in light of all the brutal murders, one missing schizophrenic was insignificant. I’m angry, detectives, but that’s how I feel. And if you think Ray has killed anybody, you’re the crazy ones.” He pointed a decisive finger at the two younger people to drive his point home. “When you find him, treat him right. Bring him back. He needs somebody to watch after him. I owe him that. He probably saved my daughter’s life and lost a great part of himself in doing so.”

Speechless, Ray
mumbled a hasty good-bye and thanks. Chris thanked Mr. Bertram for his time and promised to call him when his Ray was found.

Visibly shaken
, Ray left the office with his shoulders slouched, but Chris held back a moment to speak to the owner of the company. “Mr. Bertram, my partner was adopted. He thinks your Ray is his twin. What you’ve shared with us has made a world of difference to
my
Ray.” She looked toward the door with worry etched on her face. “I promise you no harm will come to yours from us, but if he does contact you, get him to come to us. That way we can ensure his safety and both their sanities.”

She left her card and found her
partner in the lobby. He started to speak, but she put her finger to her lips. “Shh. Let’s go. It’s time for a long patient afternoon in the Hall of Records.”

“You don’t understand
. I know who beat him up. It’s been seven and a half years, but I was at the same Mardi Gras celebration. If I had gone with my fraternity brothers rather than staying with Rob to get a tattoo, I would’ve met him then, and none of this would be happening.”

“Don’t be silly
. None of this is your fault. Now, let’s go see what we can find out at the Hall of Records.” Ray’s revelation weighed on her, but she refused to voice her thoughts.

 

♣♣♣

Usually a magpie, Chris was quiet all the way to the Hall of Records
. Ray studied her facial expression. It was obvious she was deep in thought about something that brought a crease to her brow.

“What’s wrong, Chris?” he asked
. “You look as if you’re ready to cry.”

“I’m fine
. I was just remembering some unpleasant things. Don’t worry about me. My life experiences are where I get the patience to deal with you. We’re here.”

“Something’s bothering you
.”

“I
don’t
wanna talk about it.” Her tone felt like a slap in the face. Ray had never seen her in such a mood.

“Okay,” he said with reluctance
. “For now.”

BOOK: Lucky Thirteen
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