Death Angel (23 page)

Eyes. The mirrors of the soul.

He’d always been affected by what he saw
in people’s eyes. Even a quick glance could warn him of danger. He knew he had
much to fear from the COP. His eyes were never still, always searching. The
victim of the experiment had been chosen specifically with the COP in
mind.
 

He’d worked so hard to make a good life.
Protecting himself was his first priority. Mustn’t get cocky. He had to take
one more risk to ensure his safety from discovery.

The knowledge that the timing of the
next event was so crucial added a layer of excitement. He’d gotten particular
pleasure from the planning stage the last time.
 

He’d considered and discarded various
objects for the new trophy. The jogger’s earphones had been useless. He’d had
high hopes when he took them. He thought that they would bring him the same
pleasure as the charm bracelet, but they’d been useless as conduits of any
source of power. They gave him nothing and he destroyed them. Perhaps the item
had to be more intimately tied to the spirit of a person.

He stored the knowledge away. It was
interesting how much he’d learned from each experience. Eventually he’d know
all the elements required for maximum pleasure and minimal risk.

Kate looked out the bedroom window to see
if a miracle had happened during the night and all the reporters had
disappeared. The identification of the jogger had thrust the story back into
the headlines. Now twice as many cars and vans were parked along the street.

God,
the neighbors must hate this circus environment.
 
 

Angrily smoothing the comforter across
the bed, she vented some of her frustration on the down pillows. If she went
outside, she was accosted by the reporters; if she went anywhere in town, she
was followed. She felt as if she were a prisoner.

Part of her frustration was that she
hadn’t had a chance to speak to Richard before he went to work. Late yesterday
Mike called. He had heard on the radio about the identification of the jogger.
Since Hepburn was tied in to Jenny’s murder, Richard knew he would again become
the prime suspect. Mike had suggested going to see the lawyer. He’d offered to
make all the arrangements and pick Richard up around eight.
 

The rest of the day was agonizingly
slow. Expecting a call from Leidecker, Richard had jumped each time the phone
rang. They ate dinner in virtual silence. Kate had watched Richard push the
food around his plate, his thoughts far away. She’d wanted to say something
reassuring, but her awareness that Richard had lied to her made her tongue-tied.
When it was time to meet Mike, Richard had slipped out the side door, cutting
through Marian’s backyard to get to the street on the other side of the block.

Kate hadn’t even offered to go with him.
She was exhausted. By ten when they still hadn’t returned, she’d taken a
sleeping pill, and gone to bed. Even though she’d needed the rest she was
annoyed that Richard hadn’t wakened her when he got up. She wanted to know what
the lawyer had suggested.

Downstairs she stopped in the doorway to
the kitchen and frowned. Richard’s cereal bowl was still on the table, the
Raisin Bran a congealed mass of soggy flakes. His coffee mug lay on its side, a
splash of brown staining the open newspaper.

The paper was open to the second page.
On the right-hand side was a story detailing the murder of Walter Hepburn.
Following that, was a recap of Jenny’s murder and quotes from Mayor Etzel,
Leidecker, and various other people in Pickard. Accompanying the article was a
picture of Richard bending over to speak to Patrick Grange, the five-year-old
who lived down the street.
 

Beneath the picture was the headline:
No Arrest Yet in Child
Murder
.
 

Kate sat down and stared blindly out the
window into the backyard. She let her mind float but eventually thoughts
intruded.

In the first days after Jenny’s death,
neighbors and friends had rallied with food, flowers, and cards. Where words
failed, these were the tangible evidence of friendship. Inevitably, life moved
on and slowly people began drawing away.
 

Kate’s eyes returned to the newspaper
article. Now that she looked back she was aware that the calls and visits had
slowed to a trickle and then stopped. Except for a small group of close
friends, she and Richard were isolated. Kate suspected it would be like that
until Richard was cleared of all suspicion.

She didn’t know how long she sat at the
kitchen table; her mind taken up with the bleakness of the situation. When the
telephone rang, it startled her back to the present. It was Richard.

“I’ve got to go up to Milwaukee for a presentation,”
he said after only a cursory greeting.

“Today?”

“I’m leaving in about ten minutes.”
There was a pause. “We got a call from a guy who’s thinking of changing
agencies. Apparently, he was impressed with the ads we did for Yardmaster
mowers. Wants to have a preliminary meeting. Just speculative. Chris and I are
driving up together.”

She was worried about Richard. He was
speaking breathlessly, in bursts of energy, his sentences choppy, as if he had
an adrenaline rush. “Do you have to go? I thought Chris wanted you to take some
time off.”

“That’s on hold for the present. He
thought it would be a break getting out of town.”

“I saw the picture in the paper.” Kate
winced at the silence on the line. “Don’t think about it. We’ll talk about it
when you get home. Will you be here for dinner?”

“No. If all goes well, we’ll have a lot
of details to work out. We’ll continue right through dinner. And you know
Chris. He prefers to stay over in Milwaukee rather than drive back late. I’ll
call you in the morning when I get into the office.”

“I wish you were coming home, Richard,
but the reporters are still gathered like vultures out front. It’ll do you some
good to be away from here for a bit. I hope your meeting goes well.”

“Me too. Kate . . .” He started to speak
then stopped.

“What?”

“Nothing. I love you, you know.”

“I do know, Richard. Hurry home,” she
said.

Touched by his words, she caught her
breath on a sob, holding the phone in her hand long after Richard had
disconnected. It took her a few minutes before she realized she’d forgotten to
ask what Stacie had advised. She debated calling him back, but decided he would
have told her if the lawyer had anything of importance to recommend.
 

She was disappointed that he wouldn’t be
back until the next day. There were too many hours to fill. She spent the day
cleaning. It wasn’t as hot as the day before so she opened the windows and by
late afternoon the house smelled of summer.

Periodically, she listened to the
messages on the answering machine. It worried her that Leidecker hadn’t called.
His silence in the face of Hepburn’s identification was ominous.

It was five o’clock when the phone rang.
She was just rewinding the messages on the answering machine, so she answered.

“Hi, Kate. It’s Chris. I just called to
give Richard a message when he gets home.”

“Isn’t he in Milwaukee with you?”

“Milwaukee?”

“Didn’t you go with Richard?” The
silence on the line was palpable. Kate clenched her fingers on the receiver as
she waited for Chris’s response.
 

“No. I had to be in Springfield. Richard
probably told me he was going up to Milwaukee, but it must have slipped my
mind. It’s been a really hectic week.” His speech was slow as if he were
weighing each syllable. “I tell you what, Kate. Don’t worry about the message.
I should have just put it on his voice mail. Sorry for bothering you.”
  

Kate hung up the phone.

What was going on? Chris obviously knew
nothing of a meeting in Milwaukee. He’d tried to hide the fact, but Kate knew
he was covering for Richard.
 

She grabbed a bunch of bananas from the
fruit basket and threw them at the refrigerator. They smashed against the door,
falling in a messy heap on the tile floor. All the pent up anger came rolling
out.

She was furious that Richard had lied to
her again. The story of the Milwaukee presentation was reasonable and well
thought out. Why had he thrown in the part about Chris going with him? Maybe so
if she had a question, she wouldn’t call the office? Now she wondered if
Richard had actually gone to Milwaukee. But then, why did he need an excuse to
be away?

Maybe
Richard is having an affair.

Just the thought of it seared her soul.
On top of everything else she didn’t know if she could handle such a
betrayal.
 

But it would explain where Richard had
been the day Jenny disappeared.

Damn! In his own way, Richard was very
old fashioned. If he had been with someone the day Jenny died, he wouldn’t have
mentioned it when he was first questioned.
 

The more Kate thought about it, the more
sense it made. It hurt to think about it and she refrained from any conjecture
as to who the woman might be. That kind of guessing would be truly
destructive.
 

In fact there wasn’t much point in
dwelling on it. She’d only drive herself crazy if she did. She would have to
wait until Richard got home.
 

Determined to stay busy, she mopped up
the remains of the bananas. The cleaning was therapeutic. Finished with the
kitchen, she got out her pruning shears and went out to the garden.

The new bed of roses lifted her spirits.
She and Richard had bought six plants and spent the weekend getting them
settled along the fence at the back of the yard. Marian’s contribution was the
Unique Blanche rose that she had found in a Wisconsin nursery.

She spent the remainder of the day
working outside. For dinner she ate a small salad, and then with a fresh glass
of iced tea went out on the deck. Legs propped up on the chaise longue, she lay
back and watched as night closed in around her. To the southeast, the lights of
Chicago illuminated the horizon, but in Pickard the stars were bright in a
cloudless sky.
 

Physically tired, she dozed, but was
startled awake by the sound of the doorbell.

In the uncertain light, she squinted at
her watch. It was almost two in the morning. Her heart pounded in fear. Who
could be at the door this late at night?

The doorbell rang again. She hurried
into the house, turning on lights as she moved from room to room. She flipped
on the outside lights and looked out the window. Carl Leidecker was at the
door.

“I know it’s late, Kate, but I need to
talk to you.”

She closed her eyes as fear closed in
around her. With shaking hands, she unlocked the door and stepped back for
Leidecker to enter.
 

“Is Richard here?” he asked.
 

She shook her head, unable to speak, as
she saw the grim expression on Carl’s face.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Milwaukee.” She had to force the word
out and her voice was too loud. “He’s in Milwaukee.”

“Have you talked to him today?”

“Yes. This morning. He called around
nine to tell me he was going out of town.”

“Did he pack any clothes?”

Kate shook her head. “I don’t know. I
wasn’t awake when he left.”

“Did he say where he’d be staying?”

“No. And I didn’t think to ask.” Her
breathing was ragged with the rising tension in the hall. She couldn’t stand it
any longer. “What’s going on, Carl? For God’s sake, tell me.”

“Richard’s car was found in Chicago,
parked in a lot at the Touhy Avenue beach. His clothes, the car keys, and his
wallet were inside.”

He reached into his back pocket and
pulled out a brown leather wallet, which she recognized as Richard’s.
 

“Police boats are patrolling the area
along the beach . . .”

Kate cut him off. “Richard wouldn’t go
into the water. Even if it were a hot day, he knows it’s much too early to go
swimming. So maybe he drove back from Milwaukee along the lake and decided to
stop and cool off.”

“Then where is he?” Leidecker asked.
“It’s two in the morning.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he met someone he
knew and is off having a drink.”

“Without his clothes and wallet? Be
reasonable, Kate.”

“I am!” She spoke in anger. “Questions.
Always questions. Badgering him. And Richard thought you were his friend.”

“My job is to find the person who killed
Jenny.” Leidecker spoke without passion. “The Richard Warner you know is a good
husband and loving father, an asset to church and community. To you, it is
inconceivable that he would hurt his own child. But crimes are not always
committed by drooling perverts and degenerate people. Nice people commit
crimes. Good people can do bad things.”