Picture Me Dead (25 page)

“The artist part is great,” Jan said. “But will you get to sketch live people?”

“Sure. Witnesses will tell me about someone they saw at a crime scene and I'll sketch them. This was…they couldn't put a photo of the woman in the paper, not the way she looked.”

They talked about Ashley's job for a few minutes more, then Jan said, “They won't actually let us in to see Stu, will they?”

“I got in the other night. The Fresias told the hospital staff I was a relative.”

“Think, he can have another couple of cousins?” Karen asked.

“Maybe. Hey, you know what, though? I went to tell Nick I was headed down here, and Katie told me Nick and Sharon were already on their way.”

“To the hospital?” Jan said.

“Yes.”

“I'll bet Sharon is bringing a truckload of food,” Karen said.

“Maybe.”

“She doesn't even know the Fresias. Of course, Nick does. Remember all the school fairs he worked with Nathan Fresia? They were the only two fathers willing to go in the dunk tank. Okay, Nick was an uncle, but you know what I mean,” Jan said.

“Sharon tries really hard to be like…” Karen began.

“Like what?” Ashley glanced over to the passenger seat to meet Karen's eyes.

“Like a stepmother, I guess. I mean, she goes out of her way to…to be around. Part of the family.”

Ashley shrugged. “She doesn't need to impress me. I'm twenty-five, all grown up.”

“But you're everything to Nick,” Jan put in.

“And,” Karen said, “she's running for local office.”

Ashley laughed. “You think she makes us cookies and visits people in the hospital to get a political wedge in?”

“Who knows?” Karen said.

“Well, who cares?” Jan said. “They're darn good cookies.”

“She wouldn't need to butter up the Fresias,” Ashley said, still amused. “They're not even in the same district.”

“True,” Karen agreed. “Okay, maybe she has no ulterior motive at all. Time will tell.”

“Hey, by the way, you two are invited out with me and a few fellow academy friends Friday night.”

“Ex-academy friends,” Karen reminded her. “What's the occasion?”

“We're celebrating my new job.”

“Great!”

“Oh, yeah,” Jan agreed dryly. “Now she gets to draw corpses. Ugh.”

“Jan, remember, one man's trash is another man's treasure.”

“Yeah, and it's too bad she isn't sketching trash.”

“Who knows? She may get to sketch trash one day.”

Ashley groaned and pulled into the parking garage, frowning. “Hey, you know what happened the other night?” she said, then went on to tell them about the person who had stalked her.

“Great. Now she tells us,” Karen said.

“Ashley, they were scrubs? It was probably someone who worked at the hospital, just in a hurry to get their car,” Jan said.

“Jan, I went through that with the cops,” Ashley said.

Jan shrugged, and Ashley shook her head. Her own friend was thinking like all the others. “Jan, I know when I'm being chased.”

“Then Karen is right—great,” she said sarcastically. “We're parking in the same garage, right?”

“I'm sure if someone was stalking people in the garage then, they've moved on by now. Especially since Ashley called the police. Hey, did you hear anything back?”

“Not yet, and I'm afraid I didn't pursue it.”

She parked the car and they all got out. The three of them looked around uneasily.

“We're close to the elevator,” Ashley said. “And there are three of us.”

“And she's almost a cop,” Karen said.

“Not anymore,” Jan protested. “Ashley, did you bring your gun?”

“Actually…no. I'm supposed to turn my gun and badge in. I'm a civilian employee now.”

“It's all right. It's not like we're alone,” Jan said, indicating a large party heading toward the elevator. They were equipped with flowers, packages and a large balloon that announced “It's a Boy!”

Smiling, everyone crowded into the elevator together. In a few minutes they were walking down the hall to the ICU waiting room. When they walked in, they saw that Lucy was there with Nick and Sharon. All three looked up, stood and came forward to greet them. Karen and Jan gave Lucy Fresia their warmest hugs, and Lucy thanked them all for being such good friends.

“I can't believe the support we've received,” Lucy said. “Nick has been great. And Sharon. A new friend, but a kind one. We get to have shrimp for dinner tonight, and home-baked cookies.”

“Her cookies are the best,” Ashley said, grinning at Sharon, who smiled in return.

“I pay her to say that,” Sharon teased.

“Is that your dinner in the bag over there?” Ashley asked. “Where's Nathan? You two should go eat while it's hot.”

“I'll just go get him, Ashley, now that you're here. I can't help but feel that Stuart knows when his friends are with him.” She glanced at Karen and Jan. She shrugged. “They'll know I'm lying, but we'll just say Stu has a few more relatives. Excuse me, and I'll talk to the nurse. Nick, Sharon, will you join us in the cafeteria?”

“Lucy, I'd love to stay,” Nick said. “I should get back to the bar, though.”

“Yes, we should get going,” Sharon agreed.

Nick gave Ashley and the girls a quick peck on the cheek. Jan nudged Ashley and whispered, “I was hoping he'd be around to walk us back to the car.”

Karen nudged Jan. “It's all right. Ashley may not have her gun, but I have mace in my purse.”

“What's the whispering about?” Sharon asked. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, it's fine,” Ashley lied quickly. She didn't want to say anything to either of them about what had happened the other night. “I have to admit, I'm glad you're heading back. Katie seemed to be in a bit of a bind, and I felt guilty leaving her.”

“I've got to get more help,” Nick murmured.

“Sandy was pitching in.”

“Sandy?” Nick said.

“Hey, he probably knows what everyone in that place drinks better than we do,” Sharon assured him. “All right, girls, drive carefully, okay?”

Lucy reappeared with Nathan, who greeted them all warmly, his pleasure at seeing his son's friends apparent. At his urging, Nick and Sharon agreed to join him and Lucy in the cafeteria for a few minutes, even though Nick looked a little impatient. Ashley wished that she hadn't spoken.

“Girls, only two at a time, but they've let me give them the relative story,” Lucy advised them. “And we won't be gone long,” she said a little anxiously.

“We'll be here when you get back,” Jan said.

The older couples left, and Ashley said, “You two go on in. I got to see him yesterday.”

Karen nodded, and she and Jan started down the hall. Ashley looked around, saw a magazine, picked it up and took a seat.

Until then, she had barely noticed the man in the waiting room with the paper in front of him. Once she was seated, she nearly jumped when he put his paper down and joined her.

He was the man Nathan had pointed out, the obnoxious reporter.

“What do you want?” she demanded sharply. She didn't bother to keep her voice down, since they were the only people left in the waiting room.

“Don't yell,” he said. “Everyone thinks I'm out to write a sordid story. Even the Fresias don't want to believe I'm a friend of their son's.”

“
I've
never met you,” she told him.

“Yeah, well, and how much of Stuart have you seen lately?” he demanded.

That hit home.

“Why don't they believe you're his friend?”

He sighed. “Because I write for a tabloid—even though they know that he was selling stuff to the same paper. I don't know, maybe they feel I'm responsible. I think they know I introduced Stuart to the managing editor, and that's when he disappeared from their lives. They had the police question me, and man, did they question me. I guess I'm just not the Fresias' type. They don't trust me. Unfortunately, I'm famous for headlines like
I was spirited away by aliens who kidnapped my two-headed child.
”

“Wow. What journalism.”

“Hey, it pays the bills, you know?”

“If you knew Stuart and have an idea what he was doing, why didn't you tell the police?”

“I did tell them. I told them he told me he was interested in the economy, agriculture and what big business was doing to the Everglades. And that's what he was doing. Finding out about the waterways, pollution…you know, an environmental piece. But he was really excited. He thought he had something going that was much bigger. The thing is, I have no idea who he was after, and what I can't figure is how he was looking into the environment and wound up on drugs.”

Ashley took a good look at him. He was about her own age, with medium brown hair, rather long. His eyes were large, very blue, and sincere. He was in a tailored shirt and jacket, and seemed both too concerned and far too intelligent to be writing about two-headed alien babies.

“I talked to the police, and they talked to the managing editor. I knew the names of a few local bigwigs Stu had been talking to before he went completely undercover. The police talked to them, but can you believe it? They all came out as pure as the driven snow. After that the police told me to shut up and butt out. I doubt I'll ever be able to tell the police anything they'd take seriously.”

“So why are you talking to me? Why would I want to get involved with you, when you've done nothing but cause trouble?”

He shrugged and grinned, a nice, rueful grin. “I heard you're in the academy, and I know you don't believe that Stu was a dope addict. So I figured if anybody would really be able to fight for him, it would be you.”

She studied him. He seemed sincere. He'd tried to help, and it had backfired on him.

He believed in Stuart. That mattered to her. And though she knew better than to make snap judgments, she couldn't help but feel he was more ethical than Nathan Fresia believed.

She smiled at last. “Sorry. I'm afraid I'm not in the academy anymore.”

He frowned. “You washed out? I can't believe it. Not after everything Stu said about you.”

“He talked about me to you?”

“Yeah, you know, just casual conversation. We went by your uncle's place one night—maybe a year ago. You weren't there. Your uncle wasn't even working. But he talked about what good friends you'd been growing up, and that he needed to give you a call so you two could get together. The bartender said you were looking into the academy.” He gave her another sincere smile. “I'd like to help. I'm a good investigator.”

“And you think that you can come up with something the police can't?”

“I already have,” he told her.

J
ake was still sitting on the terrace; Marty had been gone a good twenty minutes. Catching him up on things hadn't taken long. He'd told him he'd gotten the urge to go back to the property where the cult had once had its headquarters. The farmer who owned the place now had been more than agreeable to letting him walk around. His neatly plotted fields ended where the canal began. Jake had stared at the water for a long time, reflecting that the property was a long way from where the latest victim had been found.

It was only a few miles west of where Nancy's car had gone into the canal, though. Not that there was anything strange in that. Most of the residential homesteads and farms in the southwest sector of the county had been forged out of the Everglades. Canals and waterways were a major part of the ecosystem. They crisscrossed the entire area.

The farmer's wife had come up to him as he'd been walking around.

“We bought this place for a song, you know,” she told him, her eyes anxious. “You don't think that's because we'll stumble on a corpse one day, do you?”

“I certainly hope not,” Jake had told her.

Even Marty had wondered what he'd thought he would find now, when People for Principle had been gone for so many years.

“I don't know. I just know that we're staring right at something and we're still not seeing it,” Jake had said. Marty didn't buy it. But then, Marty hadn't been with him when he'd talked to Bordon and heard him talk about smoke and mirrors.

So he'd moved on to the task force meeting, then his trip to the morgue.

“The drawing will run in the paper tomorrow. And when it does, we'll have something. I'm certain,” Jake had finished.

Marty had stared at him strangely. “The sketches were that good, huh?”

“Exceptional. If she was from around here, we'll get something back.”

“So why were you such an ass to the artist?”

Jake had stiffened. “She told you that?”

“No. I just…well, hell, Jake, I'm a detective, too. I can read people.”

Soon after that, Marty left. Jake had stayed, staring at his empty coffee cup.

“Hey, Jake. Can I buy you a beer?” Sandy said.

Jake gave a start. Where had the old guy come from?

“On the house,” Sandy added proudly. “I'm helping out tonight.”

“How come?”

“Everyone's at the hospital, seeing that kid.”

“Nick and Sharon, too?”

“Yep. So Katie's running the joint, and I'm pitching in.”

“They went together?” Jake asked, wondering why it mattered.

“No, no, Nick had it in his head to go before Ashley even got home. I think Sharon put the little bee in his bonnet. She'd been baking again. Thought the parents could use something warm and home-cooked. So she and Nick took off first. Ash was picking up a couple of friends, I think. What about that beer?”

“Thanks, Sandy, but no. I've got work to do. I'm not even sure why I'm still sitting here.”

“The mind is working, Jake.”

“Not working hard enough, I'm afraid.”

Sandy looked hesitant, his white furry brows drawn into a frown. “Hey, Jake,” he said quietly, “this ain't any of my business, but…take it easy on yourself. Everyone knows you…well, hell, that you still feel responsible for your old partner, and that this new case you've got going is bringing it up all over again, like a smack in the face.”

“Sandy, you know too much.”

“I don't have much to do except take interest in those around me. You're a good man, a real good man, but give yourself a break. Everyone makes mistakes, and everyone gets down. I saw you in here with Brian Lassiter the other night. He's the asshole who cheated on his wife, made her miserable, so…even if you were—” Sandy broke off.

“You weren't responsible, Jake. And sometime you're going to have to let it go.”

“Thanks for the advice, Sandy, and the support.” He rose. “I'll take you up on that beer another time.”

“Sure, take me up on it when I'm going to have to pay.”

“Wouldn't want to insult you by implying you couldn't afford it,” Jake told him, grinning. He wandered down the dock until he reached the
Gwendolyn.
As was his custom lately, he checked the lock and the door before inserting his key. He still hadn't gotten around to changing the lock.

Inside, he logged on to the computer, called up a list of names, scrolled down. John Mast. That one jumped out at him.

But Mast was dead.

Smoke and mirrors.

Fifteen minutes later, he realized he was just staring at the screen.

Damn it, everyone out there thought he was blowing smoke. An accident. It was the logical conclusion in Nancy's death. But he just knew…

He knew. Hell, he knew.

And he was doing the same damned thing to Ashley Montague that other people were doing to him.

Being sane, logical, reasonable. But sometimes being sane, logical and reasonable meant shit.

Thoughtfully, he switched off his computer.

 

“Shit! Sorry,” the man at Ashley's side said suddenly, rising. She noticed then what he had already heard, the sound of people coming down the hall. “I've got to go.”

“No!” Ashley said. He'd started something here, and even if he wrote for a rag of a paper, alarm bells were ringing in her head. She stood as well. “You can't go yet. You didn't tell me—”

“I've got to get out of here before someone thinks I'm harassing you.”

“Oh, no, you don't! I have to hear whatever else you have to say.”

“I'll find you again, don't worry,” he said, already at the doorway.

“Wait, damn it!” She followed him quickly to the door, but to her frustration, he'd already mananged to disappear down the hallway. She saw the Fresias coming back. Nick and Sharon weren't with them; they'd probably headed back to the bar.

“That was quick,” she said.

“We don't like to be gone long,” Lucy explained.

“Karen and Jan are still in there with Stuart,” Ashley told them. “I'll just walk down and see if they're ready to come out.”

“Take your time, sweetheart. I'm going to go in later and sleep in that recliner they've got. Nathan is going to head home to shower and change, see to a few things and come back. I'll do the same thing in the morning.”

Ashley excused herself and went down the hall and replaced Jan and Karen by Stuart's side. There was no change in Stuart's condition, but she felt a little encouraged to see that his color seemed to have improved. She took his hand, the one without the IV needle, and told him about her day. She talked to him about Dilessio, admitting the stupid surge of desire that had sent her over in the night, and her feeling of being an idiot now. But in her confidential whispers to him, she also admitted that she was fascinated, she was a fool…she couldn't help it. She told him how sometimes, you met someone who appealed to you, who attracted you…and made you care, just when you shouldn't. When she was done, she was quiet for a moment, out of things to say.

“Oh! Some friend of yours from the paper—well, he claims to be a friend of yours—started telling me something. I don't even know his name, but I can find out. I won't ask your dad, though, 'cuz he really doesn't like him. I want to talk to him again.”

She glanced at her watch. She'd been with him for longer than she'd thought. But it had been a relief to pour out her heart to a friend, even though he was unconscious. She had never been able to talk easily about personal, intimate matters, not even to Jan and Karen, who were always quick to solicit others' opinions about their love lives.

“I'm going to get out of here so your mom can come in and get some sleep.” She kissed him on the forehead, squeezed his hand, held it a moment, then left.

When she reached the waiting room, she was startled to see that Len Green had joined the others there.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey back. I thought I'd come show solidarity. I told the Fresias I'm just a beat cop, but if I can do anything, they're more than welcome to let me know.”

“Great. That was really nice of you.”

“And now we have an escort through the parking garage,” Jan said happily.

“A tall, handsome escort,” Karen said lightly. “Who has his gun.”

“You need a gun in the parking garage?” Lucy said, troubled.

“Oh, you know, dark and shadowy out there,” Ashley said, frowning at Karen. She didn't want the Fresias worrying about her coming to see Stuart at night. “We'll get out of here now, let you get your rest,” she told the Fresias. Goodbye hugs and kisses were shared all around, and they departed.

“Ashley,” Karen said, when they stepped out of the elevator into the parking garage, “don't you think you should tell the Fresias you thought you were being stalked in the parking garage?”

“You didn't tell me anything about that,” Len said reproachfully.

“I never had a chance,” Ashley told him. “And what am I going to say? Everyone thinks I'm nuts, thinking I was being stalked by someone in hospital greens in a hospital.”

“I've never thought you were nuts,” Len told her.

“I don't want them to worry needlessly. They've got enough going on,” Ashley said.

As they walked, Karen suddenly came to a dead stop. “Shush!” she said.

“What?” Jan demanded.

“Footsteps. Coming this way.”

“I
am
armed,” Len said. He spoke in a low tone. Then they fell silent.

“They're coming from the elevator,” Karen whispered.

“Can you see?” Jan asked.

“Too many pillars in the way,” Ashley murmured.

“Stay still,” Len commanded, reaching beneath his windbreaker. He must be wearing a shoulder holster, Ashley thought.

“They're still coming this way,” Karen breathed.

Yes, they were, Ashley thought. But they were firm, not
stalking
footsteps.

A figure appeared, coming closer, silhouetted by a spill of light from the overhead fluorescent lights.

Tall, dark…broad-shouldered.

Then he stepped closer and was illuminated by the full pool of the light.

“Jake Dilessio,” Ashley said, exhaling.

He saw them as they saw him, and his long strides continued in a no-nonsense fashion in their direction.

“It's that guy you were drawing,” Karen said.

“He's a cop,” Len said.

Ashley stared at him then. “You know him? Why didn't you tell me he was a cop when we were in Orlando?”

He frowned at her. “I don't know what you're talking about. He was in Orlando?”

“No, no, I drew a picture of him. That night, at the club.”

Len was still frowning, totally puzzled.

“When I did the other sketches,” she said.

“He was paying the bill, Ash,” Karen said.

Then they all fell silent as he reached them.

“Detective Dilessio,” Len said. “What are you doing here?”

Dilessio arched a brow at Len. “I came by to check on Stuart Fresia. How about you?”

“Ditto. I'm a friend of Ashley's,” Len explained.

“I see.”

“And these are two of my other friends, Karen and Jan,” Ashley said quickly. “I, uh, I didn't know you and Len were acquainted.”

They all stared at her.

“They're both cops, Ashley,” Karen said.

“There are thousands of cops in the city. They can't all know one another,” Ashley said, defending herself quickly.

“I think everyone knows Detective Dilessio. He gave a number of crime scene lectures when I was in the academy,” Len said.

“You're working in the south section of town now, right?” Jake asked Len.

He certainly seemed pleasant enough tonight, Ashley thought. Not the ogre she had encountered at the morgue.

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“You still like the work?”

“Absolutely.”

“Did you find out anything new to tell the Fresias?” Ashley asked.

Dilessio turned his dark eyes on her. “No, I'm sorry. But I went by to tell them I'd spoken to Carnegie and would do what I could. They told me that you had just left. I was hoping to catch you.”

“Oh?”

“I can see you're with friends, though. We can talk later.”

“I'm dropping off Karen and Jan, and heading back to Nick's,” she said.