She Who Watches (35 page)

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Authors: Patricia H. Rushford

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BOOK: She Who Watches
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“No. I should have told her, but I couldn't. When I got home from that trip, Sara told me she was pregnant. I couldn't tell her I'd just had sex with my secretary.”

Claire understood that. Scott had told her there was nothing between him and Jackie now. They both realized it had been a mistake. It bothered her that Jackie was still working for him, but Claire trusted Scott and couldn't let suspicions cloud her mind. He had truly loved Sara. “And he loves me. That much I'm sure of.”

Claire arrived at the giant commuter parking lot five minutes early and drove to the parking area Scott had designated. There were several other cars in the lot when she pulled in, but she didn't recognize Scott's. She drove out of the primary lot to the secluded trail-head lot for the Japanese Gardens. When the paved road turned to gravel, she spotted a single car in the trailhead parking area. No one was in the vehicle, and she suspected the occupants had gone for a walk on the rustic three-mile trail, which was a secondary route into the expansive park's beautiful Japanese Gardens.

Claire wished Scott had picked another meeting place. This one gave her the creeps. It was too close to the woods. Not long ago, a woman had been dragged off the trail and raped. She reached over to lock the doors. Before she had a chance, the passenger door opened. A hooded figure slipped into the seat, but Claire didn't see the face. All she noticed was the gun.

THIRTY-FOUR

M
ac! I'm glad you called.” Kristen sounded like her old self.

“Are you home or . . .” He left the question hanging.

“I am.”

“Um—have you eaten yet?”

“No, but dinner's on, and there's an extra chair. How does pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy and fresh green beans sound?”

“Perfect. I'm on my way.”

Not only was Kristen back home, but she seemed eager to see him. Mac's spirits took flight. She sounded like her old self. He parked in front of her house, behind her silver Volvo, and was halfway up the steps when Andrew hit the door running and acting as if he hadn't seen Mac in months.

Mac caught him on the fly, hugging the little guy before tossing him up on his shoulders. Kristen was waiting at the door, wearing a white apron over a black dress. Her hair, as always, was different. Tonight it was a blood red and stood up in spikes. Just as he was wondering if he'd ever get used to her wild hair, she planted a kiss on his mouth that left him wanting more.

His gaze settled on hers, searching for answers to questions he still had.
Where are we now? Do we go back to the way we were?

She smiled and moved away. “You're just in time. Dinner is ready; all I have to do is plate it.” To Andrew, she said, “Show Mac where to sit, sweetie.”

He set Andrew down and allowed the boy wonder to pull him to the table. He almost lost it when he saw the small piece of yellow construction paper with his name and a stick figure on it.”

“You sit here,” Andrew patted the chair at the head of the table.

“See, I maded you a name tag. It has your picture on it.”

“Wow. Looks just like me. I didn't know you could write and draw that well.”

He placed his hands on his hips. “I been practicing.” Andrew climbed into the chair to Mac's left. “Mommy is sitting over there. I made her a name tag too.”

Mac held back a chuckle as he noted the stick figure with red hair sticking out at all angles. “You captured her, Andrew.”

Kristen set a plate in front of him, then Andrew. She chuckled.

“He did, didn't he?”

She was back in less than a minute with her own plate. Sitting down, she clasped his hand. “Would you say grace for us, Mac?”

He took Andrew's hand. The prayer was sincere, and Mac's heart felt more complete than it had in a long time. This was what he wanted—to come home every night to a little boy and his mom. But did Kristen want the same thing? Maybe he'd find out after dinner.

Unfortunately, life had other plans. They'd eaten dinner and done the dishes and were putting Andrew to bed when he got the call.

“Detective McAllister, this is Scott Watson.” There was a break in his voice. “Can you come over right away? Claire is missing.”

A FEELING OF DÉJÀ VU settled over Mac as he pulled into Scott Watson's driveway. Dana would be meeting him there. Her attorney friend was to drop her off, and Mac would take her home. His mind had been a flurry of disjointed thoughts as he raced over to the northwest side of town. Sinnott must have had an accomplice after all. Maybe Sinnott had been working with some of the other members of the construction crew. But why take Claire? Could it be that Senator Wilde was the target after all?

Dana pulled in right behind him. She leaned over to give her friend a kiss before exiting the car. Mac remembered seeing him before at the courthouse. He gave a quick wave as the guy drove off and then waited for Dana to join him at the entry. “You look nice.” She was dressed in a knee-length black dress and heels with a lightweight iridescent green shawl. She'd pulled her hair up into a chignon and curled the tendrils that framed her face.

“Thanks, I think. I feel funny working in this outfit, but I didn't think I should go all the way home. What's going on?”

“Claire left the kids with a sitter who was here when Scott came home. Apparently, she told the sitter she was meeting Scott and didn't know when she'd be home. Trouble is, Scott came home right after work and claims he doesn't know anything about the meeting.”

“That's odd.”

Mac reached for the doorbell.“I put out an APB on her and her car.”

Scott opened the door. “Thanks for coming. I didn't know who else to call. You guys have been working the case and . . .” He hesitated. “I don't know if there's a connection. The sitter could have heard wrong, but this isn't like Claire.”

“You were right to call us,” Mac assured him.

Scott turned and introduced them to his neighbor, Mrs. Thompson. After shaking hands, they asked her to tell them what had transpired with Claire.

“She told me she was meeting Scott. She seemed excited.” Mrs. Thompson paused. “Maybe a little hesitant, now that I think about it. She left at four thirty and said she was supposed to meet him at five.”

“Did she say where?”

“No. She thought maybe he was going to surprise her with dinner or something.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “That's all I know. Then when Scott came home—you can imagine my surprise.

He didn't know anything about meeting her.”

“Where are Chloe and Allysa?” Mac asked.

“In Chloe's room.” Scott said. “Allysa is reading to her.”

Mac glanced around the kitchen and family room area. “Do you have caller ID? That might give a clue to who she might be meeting.”

“I checked. Only one caller all day except for Mrs. Thompson, and that was Claire's mom—she called this morning.”

Dana glanced toward the stairs. “I seem to remember Claire saying she was staying in the guest room. Would she have an appointment book—and what about a computer?”

“She uses a laptop,” Scott said.

“Do you mind if we check her e-mail?”

“Go ahead. I should have thought about that.”

Mrs. Thompson excused herself to look in on the children as Scott led the detectives into the guest room. Claire's laptop was on, and Dana clicked the mailbox. The message from Scott's office flashed on the screen. “Here's the note. It was sent at three fifteen this afternoon. And it has your name on it, Scott.”

Mac read the note over her shoulder. “The meeting was at Washington Park near the trailhead for the Japanese Gardens. That's way over by the zoo parking lot.”

“I didn't write that.” Scott had a white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair. “It's the business address. We each have our own private one. If I were going to e-mail Claire, I'd have used my private account.”

“Do you have any idea who might have sent this?”

He shook his head. “Donovan and Patrick left before I did. They were going to a dinner meeting with a client. Jackie left work early for a doctor's appointment. We have office temps once in a while, and a bookkeeper who works out of her home. Maybe someone broke in.”

Mac's cell phone vibrated. He excused himself and moved into the hall, away from the others. “Mac here.”

“Yeah, it's Kevin. I got your message.”

Mac apprised him of the situation and told him about the note. “Better get some uniforms out there.”

“I'm on it. By the way, I got the rest of the file from the feds. They cleared Aaron and Denise Galbraith. I also have a list of people whose prints were on the inside of that curio cabinet of Sara's—Sara, Claire, and Jackie Palmer.”

“You're sure?”

“Yep—the feds got elimination prints and DNA from all the parties involved.”

“OK, thanks.” Mac closed the phone and joined the others. “Scott, can you tell me why your secretary's prints are on the inside of the cabinet where Sara kept her Native American collection?”

“No. What does that have to do with anything?” He lowered himself to the bed.

Mac thought it might be time to tell him about the small pouch and rock that had been found in Sara's mouth when they exhumed the body.

Scott stared straight ahead. “You suspect Jackie?”

“Do you?”

“Of course not. I'm sure if her prints were there, she was just looking at the collection. Sara showed that stuff to everybody who took an interest.”

“Did Jackie have any reason to want Sara dead? Any reason to harm Claire?”

Scott's silence hung over the room.

Mac kicked himself. They should have spent more time on Scott's relationships—on the women in his life.

Dana turned around in her chair. “Were you having an affair with Jackie?”

He sighed. “A long time ago—it was a one-night thing. I'm sorry it ever happened.”

“And she's still working for you? How did Sara feel about that?”

“She never knew. Jackie and I both realized it was a mistake.” He stood up and began to pace. “I—I think I've made a terrible mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

“Today, Jackie talked about wanting to get back together. I told her that wasn't going to happen. Claire and I—please don't take this the wrong way, but we've fallen in love. I told Jackie I intended to marry Claire. Now Claire's missing.”

Another call came in on Mac's cell. “Yeah, Sarge.”

“We found an empty vehicle parked near the entrance to the trailhead. It's registered to Jackie Palmer.”

“Any sign of Claire?”

“None.”

“Great.” Mac told Kevin about the affair. “How could we have missed this?”

“Don't beat yourself up about it, Mac. You and Dana took the logical approach. You got Sinnott, and you kept looking. That's what counts.”

“Tell that to Scott and Claire.”

“Hang on a sec, Mac.”

While he waited, Mac tried to clear his head. Jackie had apparently met up with Claire, and he doubted it was to get better acquainted. Jackie's behavior, her apparent closeness to the family, and her wanting to protect Scott made sense now. She'd been dumped once when Scott chose his wife over her. Now she was being passed over again.

“Mac?” Kevin said.

“I'm here.”

“Just got a report from an officer who checked Jackie's apartment. She isn't at home.”

“All right. Maybe Scott has an idea of where they might be.” Mac had an idea. It was a long shot but worth a try.

“Scott, does Jackie have a cell phone?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I want you to call her.”

“I can't.” He dropped down on the bed again and pulled the cell phone out of his pocket.

“What's going on, Mac?” Dana asked.

“Our guys found Jackie's car in Washington Park, where Scott was supposedly going to meet Claire. There was no sign of Claire or Jackie. Our uniforms and the city police will do a foot search of the area. We need to find Jackie, and I'm thinking Scott can help us do that.” Turning to Scott, he added, “I want you to call her. Tell her you made a mistake, that you want her, not Claire.”

“I don't see how that can help.”

“There's a chance Claire may still be alive. I want you to make the call while I listen in. Can you do that?”

He nodded. “I'll try. I still don't understand. How could she do something like this?”

“Maybe your rejection today sent her over the edge,” Dana said, accepting the phone recorder from Mac and helping Scott place the tiny receiver piece in his ear without asking his permission. His cooperation was not an option at this point.

Scott dialed the number, and it rang for a long time. “She isn't answering, and her voice mail isn't picking up.” He stopped when she finally answered. “Hello.” The voice sounded thin and frightened.

“Jackie, it's me, Scott.” He looked at Mac as if needing support.

“Why are you calling me?”

“Jackie, I know you set up a meeting with Claire. Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid.”

His comment was met by ragged breathing, then, “How did you know?”

“I saw your note on the computer. Listen, about what I said today. I'm sorry. I've been giving it a lot of thought and . . . well, you're right. I am making a mistake. You've always been there for me, and . . .” He glanced at Mac as if needing courage.

Mac nodded and mouthed,
“Keep going.”

“I love you. Please tell me you haven't done anything to hurt Claire.”

Silence. “You think I'm stupid or something? You're just saying that so I won't hurt Claire.”

“No, that's not true. I do love you, Jackie. I need to talk to you.”

She sniffed. “You love me?”

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