Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella) (6 page)

BOOK: Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella)
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“Are you offering your services?” Stephanie shot back.

“What? You want a drummer to help you because…” Ana queried, trying to hide her interest.

“Cut the bullshit, Ana. You forget, I know all about that fancy degree of yours. The one stating that you’re a qualified criminal profiler.”

“I’m a non-practicing one,” Ana reminded her. “I decided a long time ago that profiling was not the job for me.” Shuddering she said in a small voice, “I didn’t have the talent you had – have – to delve inside a killer’s mind.”

Stephanie opened her mouth to protest, but Ana reached over and lightly touched her hand, silencing her. “Don’t deny it Stephanie, your talent is scary. It’s creepily accurate, but damn scary. You have the ability to take a walk inside a killer’s head; it’s an ability I couldn’t successfully manage. You should have been a Criminal Profiler instead of a Journalist. You and I both know it. You have a gift to tap into the darkness.”

Ana shook her head with a gentle smile. “I’m not sorry I walked away from
that.
I thought it would be exciting, like a rollercoaster ride in which I got to help put away the bad guys. Instead it only left me terrified. It made me see people differently. It made me look at people in ways I didn’t want to look at them. It made me overanalyze everyone and anyone – including everything I did.”

Her smile dimmed, the horror reflecting in her eyes. “I hated the nightmares, Steph. The nightmares started after my first day, and stayed with me for months after I left.”

Ana sighed resignedly, recalling how exhilarated she’d been her first day on the job only to leave at the end of it feeling exposed, almost violated.

“I hated the way it made me feel. I hated how it made me feel violated, made me feel terrified to be alone in my own apartment,” She shook her head, adding, “The way both Gena and yourself thrive on it, I’ll never understand it.” She lapsed into silence, quickly changing the topic. “You’re going to catch Angel’s killer and you want me to help huh?” She spoke before Stephanie could reply. “I don’t think I should.”

Stephanie nodded in mock understanding. “You’re right. Ben would hate it,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“The balls and chains aren’t on me yet,” Ana said, wrinkling her nose. She cocked her head to one side. “I do love a challenge.”

Stephanie grinned at her. “I should have known the idea of Ben not liking it would appeal to you.”

Ana shrugged casually. “I don’t want him to think he can get his own way all the time.”

“Does he ever get his own way?” Stephanie pointed out with a smirk.

“Well...no, he just thinks he does,” Ana replied, laughing huskily. Shaking her head, she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “God, I missed this. I’ve missed you. Why the hell did you leave L.A, Carovella?”

“You know after Dominic died nothing was the same,” Stephanie said with a sigh. “Even before then, something changed. After our marriage ended, I wasn’t the same. He didn’t understand why I couldn’t love him, couldn’t be married to him, and I didn’t know how to explain the reasons why.”

Ana stared at her friend’s bent head, wondering if anyone except Stephanie knew the real reasons she’d suddenly decided to end her marriage. It had happened so abruptly, and affected each and every one of them in different ways.

She often wondered about the dark secrets Stephanie kept locked up inside. Secrets that, Ben once told her, gave Stephanie nightmares and kept her awake at night. Secrets so terrible they forced her to cut herself off from the only man who had managed to keep the nightmares at bay. The only man she had ever loved. “Did you have to disappear off the edge of the earth?” She asked in exasperation.

“England is hardly the edge of the earth,” Stephanie answered, giving her a mock scowl.

“It might as well have been. Ben was so hurt when you left without saying goodbye.” Ana paused. “We all were. We knew how devastated you were by Dominic’s death. How it must have cut you deeply. And Jesse...” She broke off, seeing how her friend’s open expression quickly became closed at the mention of Dominic’s death.

“Jesse was Jesse,” Stephanie finished, sharing a sad smile with Ana. “I’m sorry, but I needed a change. I needed to escape. I could hardly breathe, Ana. I felt suffocated. I needed to go somewhere where no one knew me.”

“But you’re back now,” Ana said, smiling softly. She linked her pinkie finger with Stephanie, grinning impishly.

Stephanie withdrew her hand quickly, shaking her head. “Ana, I’m not back. My life isn’t here anymore. I like the tranquility of where I live, and I have someone back in England; someone I can’t leave behind,” Stephanie protested, knowing even as she spoke the words aloud that they were a lie.

Ana snorted, playing with the frayed edge of her Motley Crue T-Shirt. “Yeah, right. I bet Jesse believes this ‘I’m not back’ speech as much as I do.”

Studying her friend’s mutinous expression, she sighed and leaned back to study her. Cocking one head to the side, she said softly, “You said you can’t leave someone behind. Is this someone a he?” When Stephanie nodded, she whistled softly. “Damn. He must be great in bed for you to say that.”

“He is, but that’s not the reason why I can’t leave him behind.”

“Jesus. This guy must be special.” Ana whistled again.

“You could say that,” Stephanie said, adding slowly, “He’s my husband.”

Ana opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again wordlessly.

“I’ve surprised you, huh?”

She nodded, unnerved by Stephanie’s cool smile. “You love this guy?” She asked, studying her friend.

Stephanie shrugged one slim shoulder, wrinkling her nose at the question. “What is love really?” She countered lightly, taking a deep breath and contemplating Ana’s question.

“Yes, no...I’m not sure,” she began, tracing her index finger along the edge of the table. “As much as I am capable of, I guess. He’s not Dominic. He’s different, but he’s solid.” She fell silent, unsure of how to explain her relationship with Leigh. “It wasn’t planned. I just wanted to go somewhere where no one knew me and where I could work. I tried to avoid getting seriously involved with Leigh, but he was just as determined to get serious.”

“Why fight it honey? When you’re in love, you’re in love,” Ana quipped, giving her a ready-made smile.

“Because he wasn’t – isn’t my type. Because every person I’ve ever loved has died. Because he is everything I don’t want in a man, or at least I didn’t think I wanted. He wasn’t what I expected.” Stephanie looked down at her hands. “We got married two weeks ago.”

Ana whistled softly. “Oh, Jess and Ben are going to love this. The big bad Stephanie Carovella falling hard; Ms. Love Em and Leave Em, herself.”

Stephanie gave a negative shake of her head. “No, it’s not like that with Leigh. I’m not even sure if I love him, at least not the way I should. I just don’t know.”

Ana whistled again. “You’re already having doubts after two weeks? Maybe it’s because you miss him.”

Stephanie grimaced. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a small-town wife after all.”

Ana suddenly felt a rush of guilt. If she was honest with herself, she had ulterior motives in supporting Stephanie’s marriage. At one time, she’d seen Stephanie as her biggest rival for Ben’s affections. Even now, deep inside, a nagging worry burrowed away at her; the worry that Ben would finally realize how he felt for Stephanie and cast her aside.

 Telling herself she was stupid to think like this, she was angry she wasn’t fully supporting her friend for the right reasons. Straightening her back, she determined she would do so from this moment on. She frowned at Stephanie, asking carefully, “So, how much does he know about your life before him?”

Stephanie mirrored her frown. “He knows everything,” she said. “No, that’s not true. He knows enough.”

“How much is enough?” Ana asked, her eyes narrowing speculatively.

“He knows the basics,” Stephanie admitted, groaning loudly. “No. That’s not even true. He knows I left L.A because I needed a break, a change of pace.”

“That’s it? That’s all he knows?” Ana asked, disbelief showing on her face.

Stephanie gave her a half-smile. “I didn’t think he needed to know the rest.” Seeing Ana’s surprised expression, she groaned again. “Ana, don’t look at me that way. I didn’t think he needed to know the gory details of my life before him.”

“You didn’t think he needed to know you were once married, or you didn’t think he needed to know the fact the love of your life died?” Ana asked, exasperation creeping into her voice.

Stephanie gave her another careless shrug, refusing to look at her.

Leaning forward, Ana rested an elbow on the table, tucking her hand underneath her chin. “Mama Mia honey, you’ve dug yourself a nice little trench. I suppose you haven’t told Ben or Jesse yet?”

“Not yet. You won’t tell them right?”

Ana gave her a look of mock horror. “Ben and Jesse don’t know? Don’t worry, I won’t tell them. I’m not stepping into
that
landline. That’s your job.”

Stephanie sighed. “I will tell them, but the timing – it’s just wrong.”

Ana rolled her eyes. "You’ve had two weeks to tell them. Honey, either way it’s not going to be pretty. You know how protective they are of you.” Pausing, she added, “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if your new husband finds out about your past and honey, he will. Secrets always come out in the end.”

Stephanie ignored her last comment, muttering, “I’ll tell them. I just need to find the right time.”

 

***

 

Cynthia looked up when Gena, hesitantly, stepped into the Morgue. “For someone who deals with death every day, you wouldn’t believe it with the way you act every time you have to come in here.”

“It’s not the dead people who bother me, it’s this place. It gives me the creeps. Morgues always have,” Gena admitted, clearing her throat and changing the topic. Indicating to the dead woman on the examination table, she asked, “What can you tell me about her?”

Cynthia reached out and stroked the woman’s face tenderly, already feeling an intense protectiveness for the young woman lying on her table. “Do we even have a name for her yet?”

Gena leaned against a table of instruments, resting her hip comfortably against it. “We’re still working on it, but there’s a possibility she is Carolyn Mathers.”

She waited for Cynthia to recognize the name, not surprised when she didn’t. “She’s an actress, who a few years back had a hit series with
The Real Thing
. A scrapbook found with our victim’s body is the only clue we have. Until we can check dental records or the Automated Fingerprint Identification System, she’ll just have to be another Jane Doe. I’m hoping you’ll be able to shed more light on who she is and what happened to her, for me.” Gena said, staring expressionlessly at the corpse.

Cynthia nodded, pushing her own emotions aside. Pulling on latex gloves, she focused on the woman in front of her. “I can confirm she was tortured before she died,” she said briskly.

Gena nodded, asking quietly, “Do you know how?”

Cynthia shook her head. “Gena, how wasn’t she is more like it.” Disgust lacing her voice, she explained quietly, “There’s evidence of cigar burns on every inch of her body. She was lashed repeatedly with what I believe was a cat o’ nines. Some of them still look fresh. It’s my conclusion she was whipped only an hour or so before she died. There’s not an inch of her that hasn’t been brutalized in some form or another.”

She broke off, taking a deep breath. Gently lifting one of the victim’s hands, she pointed to the marks on the wrist. “Her hands were bound together. From the marks, I’ve determined whoever killed her used handcuffs.”

“Handcuffs?” Gena queried, waiting for Cynthia to elaborate.

“Yes, handcuffs. Before you ask, they’re the standard issue cuffs you can buy just about anywhere these days,” Cynthia said.

She shook her blonde head, sympathy for the victim etched on her face. “Gena, I’ve examined every inch of this woman’s body. Whoever killed her wanted to inflict as much pain on her as possible. But he was careful – scarily careful. We’re talking no stray hairs, no fibers, no indention – not one damn thing to tell us who, what, where or why this was done to her. Any trace we’ve got is most likely going to be from the dumpsite.”

Cynthia blew out a sigh of frustration. “In all my time as a Medical Examiner, I’ve never had a situation where the body has been this damn clean. It’s like she was dropped from above onto the dump site, she’s that damn clean; it gets worse.”

Gena raised an eyebrow as she watched Cynthia gently place the corpse’s arms back onto the examination table.

“I’m not sure anything could be worse than having a victim who can’t tell a story of who, what, where, and why she was killed,” Gena drawled.

Cynthia opened the victim’s mouth, leaning forward. She watched Gena mimic her movement, and asked, “Notice anything?”

Gena peered inside the corpse’s mouth, not sure what she was supposed to be looking for. She froze, realizing what Cynthia was showing her.

“Her tongue’s missing. Where the hell is her tongue?” She exclaimed.

“It was cut. See, here, this is where it’s been cut,” Cynthia said, pointing inside the mouth.

“Please tell me her tongue was cut out post-mortem,” Gena whispered, watching Cynthia shake her head.

“Sorry Gena, she was very much alive when it was cut.”

She straightened up, watching Gena step back, and gently closed the victim’s mouth. “Gena, I’ve seen a lot of things in my time but this...”She broke off, unable to finish her sentence.

“It’s common practice for gangs to do this when a member talks, as retribution,” Gena said with a shrug.

“Yes, but this girl was no gang member,” Cynthia argued, before adding fiercely, “What this girl went through...By the time whoever did this had finished with her, she would have felt like death was a blessing in disguise.”

Cynthia removed the sheet covering the body, watching Gena’s expression change to one of fury. With a sweeping hand motion to emphasize what she meant, she said, “Now, do you understand?”

Gena nodded, unable to speak, anger coursing through her and leaving her speechless. She swallowed before she spoke. “Was she raped?”

BOOK: Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella)
3.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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