Blind Faith (16 page)

He smiled wickedly. "A man never forgets a matchmaking mom."

She watched him walk down the street. At the end of
Delancey
, he turned around and waved. She waved back, then, still smiling, she started up the few steps, and stopped abruptly. Something was in her mailbox. She could see yellow paper through the carved design on the front of the box.

With a sense of
deja
vu, she pulled it out, unfolded it and held it under the yellow porch light.

A chill went down her spine as she read:
Tweedle
-Dum,
Tweedledee
. One must die. Will it be thee?

Eighteen.

As she had a few nights ago, Kelly searched the street with one long sweeping glance. All she saw were empty cars and the shadows they cast on the cobblestone surface. Even Mrs. Sheridan's window was dark, the lacy curtains motionless. And Nick was long gone.

Her heart hammering in her chest, Kelly hurried back inside and locked the door. In the four weeks since the harassment had begun, she had never received such direct threats as she had in the last twenty-four hours.

If the police weren't the culprits, then who?
She read the note again, this time out loud.
""
Tweedle
-Dum,
Tweedie
-Dee.
One must die. Will it be thee?"" Maybe the fact that the message was written in the form of a well-known nursery rhyme had some kind of significance, but she was too tired right now to even guess what it could be. As she sank into her sofa, curling her legs under her, another thought hit home. Maybe the note had nothing to do with the
Chinatown
incident and everything to do with her recent decision to look for Jonathan.

Her pulse quickened. Who knew about her investigation? The list wasn't that long. There was her mother and Victoria, both of whom she dismissed immediately. Cecily and Ward, though above suspicion at first, had expressed strong feelings about her refusal to let the matter lie. Would either one resort to sending threatening notes?
Hardly.

That left
Syd
Webber, Nick
Mcbride
, Detective Quinn, and of course, Magdalena Montoya.

She scratched out Nick and Quinn, but not
Syd
and
Magdalena
. Something about Jonathan's involvement with the former stripper bothered her, and until she had scrutinized every aspect of that relationship, she wouldn't leap to any conclusions.

She read the note a third time, studying it carefully. Suddenly, something she should have noticed before jumped out at her. One must die, the note read. Will it be thee? Did that mean that others were in danger as well?

She thought of her mother, all alone, and of Victoria and Phoebe, so vulnerable right now without Jonathan. Except for her brother who taught school in
Atlanta
, those were the three people Kelly cared about the most. Anyone who wanted to get back at her could do so by striking at any of them.

She had to get all three out of harm's way.
Victoria
wouldn't be a problem. She loved Phoebe and would do whatever was necessary to protect her daughter. Connie was another matter.

Unless ... Kelly glanced at her watch.
It was too late to call her brother now, but first thing tomorrow, she'd give him a ring and tell him everything. Ronny had a clear, logical mind. He would know what to do.

Last night's threat was still very much on Kelly's mind when she woke up the following morning. Bleary-eyed from too little sleep, she padded down to the kitchen in her blue candy-striped nightshirt and the fuzzy Barney slippers Phoebe had given her last Christmas.

She had spent a restless night, tossing and turning for hours. When sleep had finally come, it had been filled with visions of huge dragon heads pursuing her and warehouses thick with the smell of sandalwood.

So it was no surprise that she was in a foul mood, a condition that would be vastly improved with a cup of strong black coffee.

She had barely reached the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?" she shouted, filling the carafe with tap water.

"Nick!"

She looked down at herself, thought of asking him to wait while she changed into something a little more presentable, then shrugged. As long as he insisted on dropping by unexpectedly, he would have to suffer the consequences.

She tried to ignore the look of amusement on his face when she opened the door. "Rough night,
To
bolo?"

"It's my best time." He looked at her disheveled hair.
"Not yours, obviously."

"What do you want?" she asked grumpily as she headed back down the hall.
 
"I've got good news. The security chief at
Philadelphia
Airport
has agreed to let us look at their surveillance tape for February 7."

"All major airports are now required to have them.

They're placed at strategic points throughout the terminals--airline counters, security gates, the various concourses. If Jonathan boarded that plane on Monday, he'll be on that tape."

Kelly was impressed. And a little annoyed at
herself
for not having thought of the idea first. "Have you seen it?"

"He ran it for me, and I did see a man who answers Jonathan's description, but since I've never met him, I don't know if it's him or not." He looked at his watch. "How long will it take you to get ready?"

"We'll get some at the airport. I told Jack Term
pleton
we'd be in his office by nine o'clock. And we still have to pick up
Victoria
."

Kelly gave him a dirty look. Her mother had been wrong to think she and Nick could ever hit it off romantically. He was much too bossy for her tastes, and the hours he kept were positively barbaric. "It's seven o'clock in the morning. Why couldn't you bring the tape here?
Or to
Victoria
's house?"

"Because that would have required a court order."
He shooed her with both hands. "Go get ready.
Quickly.
We don't have much time."

"I'll grow on you." As she walked out of the room, he called after her, "Where do you keep
Victoria
's number? I'll call her and save us some time."

"In the kitchen, top drawer next to the stove."

In the kitchen that was becoming as familiar
as his own
. Nick found the small, leather-bound book and
Victoria
's number under the Bs. As he dialed, he heard the sound of the shower rumbling through the old pipes.

It took all his willpower not to think of that steamy water running down Kelly's slick, soapy, naked body.

The female voice at the other end of the line jolted him back.
"Mrs.

Bowman?"

"Yes."

"This is Nick
Mcbride
. I have arranged for you to look at an airport surveillance tape." He repeated what he had told Kelly a few moments earlier, explaining that he was at Kelly's house and they would pick her up shortly.

"Upstairs, taking a shower."

"I see." It was clear she didn't, but was too much of a lady to put him on the spot. "I'll be taking my daughter to school in about thirty minutes. If I'm not back by the time you get there, go in and wait. I won't be long and Kelly has a key."

Nick hung up and started to put the book back into the drawer when a yellow sheet of paper, identical to the one Kelly had given him the night before, caught his eye. It was another threatening note. This time, the colorful letters pasted onto the page spelled out a different message.
Tweedle
-Dum,
Tweedle
-Dee.
One must die. Will it be thee?

"Son of a bitch."

Holding the note, he ran down the hallway and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Why hadn't she told him about this second note? When had she received it? And what kind of
sicko
would keep send
At
the open bedroom door, he came to a dead stop. Kelly stood in front of a closet, her back to him, as she nipped through a half-dozen garments. She was stark naked.

Nick didn't realize he was holding his breath until he was forced to let it out. His mouth suddenly dry, he let his gaze move slowly over every inch of her, the slender back as it tapered to an incredibly small waist, the narrow hips,
the
round, perfectly shaped behind. Unaware that she was being watched, she stepped back, holding two hangers. On one was a pair of tan slacks, on the other a black silk blouse. Apparently satisfied with her selection, she turned around and let out a startled cry.

Like a shield, she brought both garments in front of her. "Ever heard of knocking,
Mcbride
?"

"I'm sorry ... I ..." He caught a glimpse of her scar, just over her

right
breast, where
Santos
's bullet had hit. "I didn't think you--"

"You do that a lot, don't you? Act without thinking?"

"Oh, for God's sake.
Nick. Close your mouth and turn around so I can get dressed."

He did as he was told. When he was certain he could talk without stuttering, he said, "I found the note in the drawer." He waved it in the air to show he wasn't making up some lame excuse. "When did you get it?"

"Last night after you left.
It was in my mailbox."

He heard the sound of a drawer being opened then shut, the rustle of soft fabric sliding over silky skin.

"All right, you can turn around now."

She looked more amused than angry as she weaved a thin leather belt through the loops around her waist. He forced the image of her gorgeous body out of his mind. "Why didn't you tell me you had received another threat?"

"When did I have the time? You barge in here, practically at the crack of dawn, demanding that I get ready. I wasn't thinking about that note.

I was trying to stay awake. As you can guess, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"You should have called me. I couldn't have been far."

"You had already left. And what could you have done? Whoever delivered the note didn't stick around, not if he or she knew a detective was in the house."

"I'll have it tested along with the other." Nick put the yellow sheet in his pocket, but was under no delusion. People who went to the trouble of cutting out letters from different magazines and newspapers didn't suddenly screw up by leaving their fingerprints all over the evidence.
 
As for the paper itself, it had probably come from some office supply warehouse and would be impossible to trace, especially since the buyer had probably paid cash. Like the airline ticket.

He caught her worried look. "I'll find out who's doing this, Kelly. I promise."

She hooked the strap of her leather purse over her shoulder. "It's not me I'm concerned about. It's my mother.
And Victoria and Phoebe.
What if that jerk goes after one of them?"

Nick shook his head. "He won't."

"Most killers don't waste their time sending threatening notes. They see an obstacle, they remove it.
Period."

She didn't look convinced. "Maybe so, but I'm not taking any chances.

I'm going to tell
Victoria
to move in with her aunt and uncle, just as a precaution."

He stayed behind her, smelling her perfume, admiring the gentle swing of her hips as she went down the stairs.
"And your mother?"

"I thought I'd ask my brother to invite her to
Atlanta
for a week or two. The restaurant isn't all that busy at this time of year, and Ronny is on spring break." She took a black leather jacket from a hallway closet and put it on.

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Worse than tough, but Ronny is good at that kind of thing. He'll convince her."

And if he didn't.
Nick thought
,
he would arrange for a squad car to patrol Connie's neighborhood every couple of hours.
Demaro
and Swan owed him a favor.

Jack Templeton was a former police commissioner who, at the age of sixty-four, had come out of retirement to take the job of security chief at
Philadelphia
International
Airport
. He was a handsome man with snow-white hair, piercing gray eyes and an iron grip.

After Nick had made the introductions, Kelly and Victoria sat side by side on a tan sofa while
Temple
ton inserted the surveillance tape into a VCR.

"The first tape shows the activity around the airline counter," Templeton said, "where Mr. Bowman allegedly purchased his round-trip ticket to
Miami
." He pushed a button. "Since we already know that he called his wife at eight-thirty, I'll fast-forward the tape to a few minutes before that. Here we go."

Next to her, Kelly saw
Victoria
tense up. On the screen, travelers stood in line, waiting to purchase their tickets. Kelly leaned forward, furrowing her eyebrows as she studied one of the men on the grainy tape.

He was second in line. The upper
part of his features were
hidden by a wide-brimmed fedora and the lower part was too indistinct for her to make an accurate guess.