Night Vision (16 page)

Authors: Ellen Hart

BOOK: Night Vision

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She heard Cordelia's distant call. “Are you okay?”

“I'm coming,” she yelled back. She stood and unhooked Mouse's
collar from the leash, then untied the leash from the tree. Hooking Mouse back up, she led him out of the woods, scraping at her face with the cuffs of her jacket.

“Oh, my God,” said Cordelia, when she saw them emerge from the woods. Her eyes grew wide watching Mouse trot along beside Jane as if nothing had happened. “What the hell's going on?”

“Luberman has a heartâor the remnants of a conscience. He must have broken into the car and taken him out before he doused it with gasoline.”

“Maybe he likes dogs.”

Jane had no idea and really didn't give a rip. Except, she didn't want to be beholden to this freak, but like it or not, she was.

Cordelia bent down and gave Mouse a hug. “You're a sight for sore eyes, babe.” Glancing up at Jane, she said, “So, now what do we do?”

Jane looked both ways down the dirt road. Nothing seemed impossible now that Mouse was okay. She felt like she could fly home. “I guess we start walking.”

“Can't we call a cab?”

Jane laughed, feeling it ease some of the tension in her body. “God, but I love you.”

“You do?”

“Only you would suggest calling a cab when we're in the middle of nowhere. Cordelia, there aren't any cab companies out in the boonies.”

“A bus, then?”

She shook her head.

“Maybe there's a rental car company around here that picks you up. You know, like Enterprise.”

“Try your cell phone. But I figure our best bet is the highway. Maybe somebody will come along and give us a lift back to Eagle Ridge.”

“How far away is the highway?”

“About three miles.”

“Three miles?
Three
miles!”

“We could jog.”

“No, we couldn't.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” Jane tugged on Mouses's leash and started down the road.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“I don't suppose I could wait here.”

“If you want. But it will likely be dark by the time I get back.”

Cordelia rapped the riding crop impatiently against her boot, glared at what was left of the car, then sighed deeply and scurried to catch up.

J
oanna moved one of the kitchen chairs into the bathroom and placed it next to the sink. She was about to play customer to Faye's professional hairdresser. It was such a large bathroom that it could easily have doubled for a salon stall.

After Joanna sat down, Faye stood back, then pulled both sides of Joanna's hair forward and cupped it around her chin. “I'd take the color down a notch or two. Instead of the light blonde, I'd go to a rich, shimmering gold. And then I'd add both highlights and lowlights. Discreetly done, it could be dazzling.”

“You can do that here?”

“You bet I can. And I'd suggest a new cut. We'll look through some of my books, see if anything appeals to you.”

Joanna had spent most of yesterday talking to Faye. She had to admit that she thought Faye was a lot of fun. She had a bawdy sense of humor and lots of bad habits. She drank and smoked way the hell too muchâher wordsâand liked cards and casinos. Joanna was just waiting for the first homophobic remark about her brother, but Faye said she thought David seemed like a great guy. The only person Faye didn't like was Freddy Kasimir. She kept bringing the conversation back to him, told Joanna in no uncertain terms to stay way from him.

Faye was very quick with adviceâmuch like Joanna's mother. It actually felt kind of wonderful to have someone take such a personal, motherly interest in her. Yesterday evening, Joanna had given her a tour of her wardrobe. Faye offered her opinionsâwhat she thought was a good color, a good look for Joanna, what she thought wasn't. Their friendship had grown so quickly that Joanna was suspicious of the way Faye made her feel: warm, almost safe. It made no sense, really, except that Joanna needed someone in her life like that right now.

It was approaching three in the afternoon when they finally left the bathroom and returned to the kitchen for coffee. Nolan would be stopping by in a few minutes. Once Joanna listened to his report, she'd have a better sense of how safe she'd feel when she did decide to go outside for the first time.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Faye, getting up to pour herself more coffee.

“Oh, nothing much.” Joanna gazed down into her cup.

“You're worried about something. I can tell.”

“Don't be silly. You hardly know me.”

“I'm a quick study.”

Joanna shook her head and laughed. “People always think they know celebrities because we're on TV or they see us up on a big movie screen. We're familiar, but that's a far cry from the real thing.”

“Oh, I saw past that crap years ago. You've had a great life, Joanna, one that lots of people would envy.”

“I know. Really, I'm grateful.”

“Unlucky, too,” said Faye, stirring some cream into her cup. “I know you haven't had much success in the love department. All I can say is, welcome to the club.”

“Thanks.”

“I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you don't seem like you have many friends.”

“I've got lots of friends,” said Joanna, knowing she sounded way too defensive.

“Close ones?”

She looked up at the ceiling fan. “Sure. Cordelia, for one.”

“But you don't talk to her much. You hardly ever see her. At least, that's the impression I got from her.”

“What's your point?” She was starting to get irritated.

“You need people in your life, Joanna. People who care about you.”

Lighting up, Joanna said, “Look, everybody wants something from me, okay? They want to manipulate me. Or if they don't, they have a picture of me that's so unrealistic I don't even want to be in the same room with them. I have friends, lots of them. Other actors, actresses. People in the industry. We talk. But I don't trust anyone completely, not anymore. Maybe it's one of the downsides to my profession. I've been burned too many times.”

Faye nodded. “Still, it's sad, don't you think?”

“It's the way it is.”

“I suppose that means you and me, we'll never be good friends. I'm not in âthe industry.' I'm just an average Joeâor Jane.”

“Don't expect anything from me, Faye. That way, you won't be disappointed.”

“Okay. Not a problem. You could walk out the door tomorrow and all I'd do is shrug and go back to watching
The Price Is Right.
But here's the deal. I'd miss youânot you the actress, but you the person. I like you, Joanna. You're funny, smart. You've experienced the world from an unusual perspective and that interests me. I've always been the kind of woman who picks up stray animals, tries to find them good homes.”

Joanna blinked through the smoke from her cigarette. “You think I'm a
stray
?”

“In a way, yeah, I guess I do. As much as I respect you and what you've accomplished, I think your life is pretty lonely. And yet, in spite of everything that's happened to you, you're still a good person.”

“Yeah, right. Sometimes I wonder.”

“Well, don't. Give me some credit, lady. I've lived a lot longer than you have and I'm very selective about the people in my life. You may not want to be my friend, but that doesn't stop me from being yours.”

The phone rang. Rising from the table, Joanna grabbed the receiver off the wall. She expected it to be Nolan and it was. He was
downstairs. She buzzed him in, then turned around and looked at Faye. The question was, should she allow her to stay or ask her to go? “I have a meeting with someone. He'll be up here in a second.”

“Want me to skedaddle?”

Joanna glanced at the clock. She wished David were here. On the other hand, after the bizarre way he'd behaved last night, she'd been more than happy to see him leave right after breakfast. “No. Stay.”

“Love to. Who's the meeting with?”

“A private investigator I just hired.”

Faye's eyes narrowed.

“Long story. Just wait, you'll hear all about it.”

Once Nolan arrived, they all sat down in the living room. With his dark skin, stocky frame, gray hair, and mustache, Nolan reminded Joanna of Ossie Davis. She'd worked with Ossie several times. He was a gentle, cultured man. Nolan, on the other hand, was rough. He might not be a cop anymore, but he still gave off cop vibes. Joanna introduced Faye as a friend. She could see a look of pleasure cross Faye's face.

“So,” said Joanna, brushing a piece of lint off her gray slacks as she crossed her legs, “what did you find out?” She was trying hard to remain calmâ
look
calmâbut inside, she was a mess.

Opening the file folder he'd carried in, Nolan patiently explained everything he'd learned.

The longer he talked, the tighter Joanna held herself. When he was done, she looked down at her hands. “But you don't know for a fact that Gordon was behind those missing women.”

“No. There's no proof. That's why the police haven't acted on it.”

“So they could be wrong. It might be a coincidence.”

Nolan closed the file and set it on a table next to him. “I think, Ms. Kasimir, that we'd be making a big mistake if we treated it that way.”

She swallowed, forcing back the bile rushing into her throat. “Sometimes I'm so thick. I actually thought I was rid of him.” She knew now that he'd never go away. Gordon had taken her freedom. From the moment he walked into her life, she should have seen him for what he was. That failure had eaten away at her daily for more than fifteen years. “What can we do?”

“We need to find proof that will put him behind bars. Short of that, he's still out there on the street, and that means he's still a danger. I plan to concentrate all my efforts on proving he murdered those two women.”

“Does that mean you think he was the one who sent me the pink roses?”

“I do,” said Nolan. “I wish I could tell you otherwise.”

A wave of fatigue shuddered over her. “It's about what I expected.”

“I'm curious,” said Nolan, looking at her hard. “During the trial, did you ever talk to a therapist, a counselor, a copâsomebody who knew about the psychology of a stalker?”

She shook her head.

“Actually, in some ways, show folks are a lot like police officers. It's a high-risk profession. You experience too much, see too much. I realize what happened with you and Luberman was a long time ago. Most of the research that's been done on stalkers has been recent. I won't get into details, but in general, one of the biggest mistakes celebrities make is being overly friendly. They let people take their pictures. Send out signed photos to fans. Allow publicity shots of their homesâeven their bedrooms.”

“I'm not overly friendly,” said Joanna.
“Anymore.”
Throwing up her hands, she added, “But, I mean, are we supposed to live in a cocoon?” Strange question, she thought, coming from a woman who'd tried to do exactly that. She knew firsthand that being in the public eye wasn't just all about praise. It could also be highly corrosive. For example, she'd been in a bathroom stall once when two women she'd just metâwomen who had been falling all over her telling her how wonderful she wasâcame in and started talking about how awful she looked in person. It was enough to drive a sane person stark raving mad.

“I know it's a difficult issue,” said Nolan. “Most people look at fame and see only what's positive. The money. The power. Public affection, even adoration. Fame opens doors, provides the famous person with amazing opportunities. But we both know that's only one side of the coin.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Most people you meet will never be a problem to you. That's a given. But for some, a very few, simple friendliness on your part can trigger a delusional individual into feeling like he has a relationship with you, when in reality, he doesn't. One of the most interesting facts that's come to light in the last few years is, contrary to what we all think, celebrities who attract the biggest number of stalkersâand all celebrities have stalkers, it's just a question of how manyâaren't the most glamorous. They're the ones who seem the sweetest, the most wholesome, because
that
makes them approachable.”

“But it wasn't like that with Gordon and me,” said Joanna. “We had a brief relationship. I invited him into my life. At one point, I thought I loved him. It didn't last long before I saw what he really was, but by then, it was too late.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Ms. Kasimir. Believe me when I tell you he targeted you. He had you in his sights long before he ever made his first approach.”

“You think so?”

“I'm positive.”

Joanna felt flattened. “What do I do?”

“Well, first, I'd suggest beefing up the security at the Linden Building. I'd like to put a man on the back door, the one by the parking lot, and by the inside elevator. That way, no one can sneak in. It's just a precaution, but one I'd advise. It will cost some moneyâ”

“Don't worry about that. Can you set it up?”

“I've already arranged for two men to start tonight. They should be here around five.”

“What about when I need to leave the building?”

“Have you ever used bodyguards?”

Joanna sighed. “Yes.”

“This might be a time when you might want to do it again.”

“Can you suggest someone?”

“I do a lot of work with a local company in St. Paul. A lot of the guys they hire are either ex-cops or ex-military, so they know what they're doing.” He took a card out of his inner pocket and placed it on the coffee table. “Call this number. Give them an hour's notice.”

Joanna nodded, feeling a little better. “But unless you can prove Gordon is guilty of murdering those two women, I'm the one who's going to spend my life in prison.”

“Let's hope not,” said Nolan, rising. “Jane drove back to Eagle Ridge today. Maybe she found out something that could help us. If not, I'm planning to hire a man to sit on Luberman, follow him everywhere. And tomorrow, I'm heading up to Lake Poygan to research what happened to Mandy Kiskanen. Maybe I can connect some dots.”

“Thanks,” said Joanna. She walked him to the door.

As they were saying good-bye, her cell phone rang. Joanna looked so startled that Nolan said, “Why don't you answer that while I'm still here.”

“If you don't mind, I will.”

Faye stood up and handed it to her.

“Hello?” said Joanna, sinking down on the couch.

“Is this Ms. Kasimir?”