Eyes (23 page)

CHAPTER 27

Jill was just thinking about what to have for dinner when the telephone rang. She picked it up and smiled as she recognized the voice on the other end of the line. “Hi, Doug.”

“I just called to see how your husband's eye exam went.”

She could hear the concern in Doug's voice, and she felt a rush of warmth. It was sweet of him to worry about a man he'd never even met. “It went very well. Dr. Varney said Neil should recover his eyesight in time to see the baby when he's born.”

“He? Then you know it's a boy?”

Jill started to grin. “No. I guess I should say he or she, but that gets awkward. I don't want to know ahead of time. I may be old-fashioned, but I'd rather wait.”

“I can understand that. Knowing would take away the element of surprise. I'm glad your husband is doing better, Jill. I know it's been a strain for you.”

“And how!” she laughed. “But it's much better now . . . really. Dr. Varney has allowed Neil to go back to work. That'll help a lot.”

“That's good news. I know how I felt when I was down with the flu last year. It was only for a week, but being cooped up really got to me. It's a good thing I live alone. I was so crabby, I could barely stand myself.”

Jill nodded, but she had her doubts. Doug didn't seem like the crabby type. She was sure he was exaggerating.

“Okay. I was just checking in. I'm off tonight, so if you need anything, all you have to do is call.”

“Doug?” Jill spoke quickly before he could hang up. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

“Not much. I thought I'd head down to The Midtown Deli and pick up a Reuben.”

“Do you feel like company?” She held her breath, hoping that he would say yes. Neil had called the university the moment he'd come back from Varney's office, and he'd arranged a dinner meeting with the department head. Norma had volunteered to pick him up, so Jill was free for the evening. “Neil's not going to be home. I was just going to heat up a can of soup. A Reuben sounds much better.”

“Company would be great! Do you want to meet me there? Or shall I pick you up? The Midtown isn't far from your house.”

“Pick me up and I'll show you the house.” Jill made her decision quickly. “You've never seen it before.”

“Okay. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

Jill was smiling as she hurried up the stairs to dress. She'd wear a pair of maternity jeans and the blue sweat shirt printed with teddy bears that one of the secretaries had given her at the office baby shower. It was too casual for a court appearance, and she'd been wanting to wear it.

Five minutes later she was ready, and she sat back down on the couch to wait for the doorbell to ring. Doug must know where she lived. He'd mentioned that The Midtown Deli was close to her house. But she couldn't remember ever having given him her address.

Jill thought about it for a moment and then realized that he hadn't given her his address, either. She'd looked it up in the personnel records because she'd wanted to know where he lived. Perhaps he'd done the same thing, impelled by the same kind of curiosity. She'd wanted to know everything about him, and he might have felt the same way about her.

Instead of feeling that her privacy had been invaded, the fact he had sought out her address made Jill smile with pleasure. It could mean nothing at all, but perhaps, at one time, he'd truly wanted to be part of her life.

* * *

They'd just finished splitting one of The Midtown's giant éclairs when Doug's beeper went off. He pulled it out of his pocket to glance at the number, and then he frowned. “Sorry. It's the station. I've got to call in.”

“Here, Doug. Use this.” Jill pulled her cell phone out of her purse and handed it to him, glad that she'd remembered to charge the battery last night.

“I'll pay for the call when it comes in on your bill. It's a toll charge from here.”

Jill laughed. “Don't be silly, Doug. How much can it be? Just go ahead and use it.”

“Okay. It's probably nothing. I'm not on call tonight.”

As Doug dialed the phone, Jill held her breath and hoped it wasn't some kind of emergency. But as she listened to his side of the conversation, she motioned for the bill.

“That's okay.” Doug scribbled an address on the paper napkin. “I'll just drop off my date and come right over.”

His date? The woman in the adjacent booth was staring at her, and Jill couldn't hold back the amused smile that spread across her face. She was obviously pregnant, yet Doug had called her his date.

“Sorry.” Doug shut off the phone and handed it back to her. “It's a homicide. I have to go in.”

Jill nodded. “That's all right. I already asked for the bill. Is it . . . another one?”

“It looks like it.” Doug caught her meaning immediately. “I told them I'd drop you off first.”

“I'll go along. It'll save time that way.”

“Are you sure?” Doug looked concerned. “They said it was pretty bloody. You won't get upset, with the baby and all, will you?”

“No, I'll be fine. I've been at crime scenes before.”

“Okay.” Doug nodded. “I may be there for a while, but after things have calmed down a little, one of my team can drive you home.”

The waitress rushed over with the bill, and Doug glanced at it. He handed her some money, told her to keep the change, and then helped Jill out of the booth.

Jill glanced at the woman in the next booth. She was still staring at Jill's rounded stomach, and she wore a very disapproving look.

“It was a lovely
date
, Doug.” Jill took his arm and smiled at the woman. “In my condition, I don't get asked out very often.”

* * *

Doug had laughed when Jill had explained about the disapproving woman in the next booth. When he'd apologized for calling her his date, Jill hadn't told him that she'd been secretly pleased by the term he'd used. And of course she hadn't mentioned that if her situation were different, if she hadn't been married to Neil, she would have loved being referred to as Doug Lake's date.

As they approached the scene of the homicide, they were stopped at the corner by a uniformed patrolman. Doug flashed his badge, the yellow crime tape was lifted, and they were allowed to drive through. Doug parked in front of the church and turned to her. “Are you sure you want to go in?”

“I'm sure.” Jill unbuckled her seat belt. “There won't be a problem with clearance, will there?”

“No. I might have a problem if I brought you in as a civilian, but you're with the DA's office. Just stick close to me and don't touch anything.”

Jill nodded and followed Doug as he climbed the steps of the church. On the drive over, he had told her the victim was a minister, a Harold Woodard. His carotid arteries had been severed, and he had a series of multiple stab wounds. Reverend Woodard's wife had found him when he hadn't come to the rectory for dinner, and she had called the police. Mrs. Woodard had been hysterical when the officers had arrived; the family doctor had sedated her.

The sight that greeted them as they walked up the center aisle was bloody. Jill felt like turning around and running back to Doug's car, but she forced herself to look at the body on the altar. Someone had covered Reverend Woodard with a sheet, and she was grateful for that.

While Doug questioned the first pair of detectives who'd arrived on the scene, Jill glanced around the church. At seeing that a trail of wet footprints led to the altar, she began to frown. Although she was careful not to touch the footprints, she leaned over to examine them closely. Not blood. It looked more like water, as if someone had come out of a swimming pool without a towel.

“Water.” Doug arrived at her side so silently, Jill almost jumped. “The reverend had a baptism scheduled for late this afternoon.”

“Do you know who was baptized?”

Doug nodded. “His wife said it was a woman named Crystal, but she couldn't give a description because she'd never met her.”

“Did you check the register?”

“The register?” Doug's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What's that?”

“It's where they record the names of new parishioners. I had a friend who joined this church, and she said that the reverend wrote her name and address in the book.”

“Thanks, Jill.” Doug turned to one of his men. “Check with the doctor. He's still next door with the reverend's wife, and he's a member of this church. Ask him where they keep the church register.”

Jill waited until the detective had rushed off. “There's something else. My friend told me this church believes in total immersion and there's a pool behind the altar. I think she said there were two dressing rooms, one for the women and one for the men.”

“They checked that out. There's nothing in the women's dressing room, but the reverend's clothes are still in the men's.”

“Of course. After she murdered him, she got dressed and left. I don't suppose there were any witnesses to the baptism?” Doug shook his head, and Jill sighed. “Where do these footsteps lead?”

“From the pool to the reverend's office. And then back here to the altar. But there's only one set of footprints coming from the pool.”

Jill thought for a moment. Then she shrugged. “The reverend wouldn't have gone into the pool if he hadn't had anyone to baptize. But there's only one set of footsteps?”

Doug nodded. “That's right.”

“Then he must have carried her from the pool to his office.”

“Right.” Doug seemed pleased by her reasoning. “Why do you think he'd do that?”

Jill shrugged. “She could have gotten sick during the baptism. Or maybe she hurt herself in the pool. It's possible she swallowed some water and started choking. Total immersion, remember?”

“Greg?” Doug motioned to one of his team. “Check out the office. We're looking for a woman's fingerprints. The couch would be a natural, but dust everything in the office and the women's dressing room.”

When Greg had left, Jill turned to Doug with a frown. “How about the murder weapon?”

Doug shook his head. “They didn't find it.”

“Then it's just like the last time. She must have taken it with her.”

There was the sound of a siren outside and Doug put his arm around Jill's shoulders. “That's the coroner's team. I'm going to be busy. Is it all right if I have someone take you home?”

“That's fine.”

Doug walked her to the front of the church, where two uniformed patrolmen were guarding the door. “I don't need two men here. Would one of you take Mrs. Bradley home? She'll give you her address.”

“I'll do it.” One of the officers motioned to Jill. “Come with me, ma'am.”

Jill started to leave, but Doug took her arm. He leaned close, so the two officers couldn't hear, and whispered in her ear. “Thanks. You've been a big help. And just in case you have any doubts, you're the best date I ever had!”

* * *

Connie was snuggled under the covers, holding Alan's picture close to her heart. She'd just finished telling him about what she'd done, and she gazed at his face a bit apprehensively. “Was that all right?'

Alan seemed to smile, and Connie drew a big breath of relief. Then she held the picture to her ear and listened while he talked to her.

“Of course, darling.” Connie hopped out of bed and turned on the bedroom television. “You're absolutely right. They must have found him by now.”

The ten o'clock news had just started, and she and Alan watched as the music swelled and the logo flashed on the screen. The anchorman was handsome and his woman colleague was beautiful, but they both looked very serious as they faced the camera.

“Murder in the place you'd least expect it.” The anchorman shook his head. “Police were called to the Evangelical Church located on the two hundred block of Hiawatha Street, the site of a violent homicide.”

The camera moved in to show his woman colleague, who took up the story. “The body of Reverend Harold Woodard, forty-one years old and leader of the Evangelical Church, was discovered by his wife, Miriam, at shortly after seven this evening. The motive and identity of Reverend Woodard's assailant or assailants is unknown at this time. Police have launched a citywide search, and they are asking for your assistance.

“If you have any information about any person or persons who may be involved in the murder of Reverend Woodard, please call the number on your screen.”

The anchorman took over again as the number flashed on the screen. “We have a reporter live at the scene, and later in the broadcast we hope to bring you interviews with several members of Reverend Woodard's church.”

As the station went to a commercial, Connie sighed and snuggled a little closer to Alan's picture. Alan had told her she'd done everything right. There were no clues to link her with the murders, there was no way for the police to find her.

“There's one name left, darling.” Connie reached for the list on the bedside table and glanced at it. “He should be a perfect candidate. He's a professor at the university, and I'm going to try to contact him tomorrow. He's the man who got your eyes.”

Connie listened as Alan spoke, and then she nodded. “You're right. I wasn't being completely accurate. He received your corneas. “What was that, darling?” Connie listened again, and then she smiled. “I remember. I've heard you say that before, and I believe it. The eyes are the windows to the soul. That's the reason I'm so excited about this. Right now there's a man who's walking around, looking at the world through a part of your eyes.”