Winter's Destiny (14 page)

The therapist was red-faced. “You’re right. My sincere apologies. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

“Didn’t you think to check this guy out before you let him take my grandmother out of the building?”

The therapist grew red in the face. “I feel very badly, Mrs. Johnson. I was busy and I didn’t take the time to do that.”

Amy wasn’t satisfied but told the therapist, “I’m worried this man will come back. Do you remember what he looked like?”

The therapist rubbed his jaw. “Big guy, six foot something, balding. Scar on his face.”

“Scar?”

“Yeah, along his jaw.”

“What was he wearing?”

“Casual clothes. A plaid jacket and slacks.”

The heavyset man in the lab coat flashed across her mind. “You sure he wasn’t wearing a lab coat?”

“Only staff wear those, and I know he isn’t staff.”

An unsettling mix of fear and anger coursed through Amy. “Ever see him before?”

The therapist considered this. “No, I’d remember if I had.”

“I guess that should have been your first clue. Meanwhile, if you ever see him again, keep him away from Cynthia Hadden and for godsake call security, me, and the sheriff’s office.”

On the way back up to her grandmother’s room, Amy thought about what she’d just done. At no time prior would she have taken anyone to task, especially a professional. “What’s happening to me?” Amy wondered.

When she returned to her grandmother’s bedside, Amy could see that, although the older woman’s color was deathly, the glaze that had coated her eyes for the last years was gone. The gray eyes were clear and focused intently upon Amy. But the pale lips trembled.

It was Amy who broke the silence. “Who was he?”

Cynthia’s eyes flooded with tears and a hand slid across the bedspread, her icy fingertips gripping Amy’s as she groped for the words. At last she whispered, “A killer.”

Dallas returned to the police station, and taking the stairs three at a time, pushed through the door, whipped past Debbie’s desk, then reversed himself and did a double take. The raven-haired thirty-two year old had been his assistant almost eight years and he’d never seen a look on her face quite like this.

“What’s wrong?”

She pulled off her glasses and looked up at him, shaking her head. “It’s the Johnson case, Sheriff. It’s scaring the hell out of me. Amy and I are good friends, so I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this, trying to figure it out. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just talk out loud for a minute.

Dallas nodded encouragement.

“First, an injured woman shows up at Amy’s house and then vanishes. Seems like she’s a twin Amy didn’t know anything about. The family knew about it and believed the twin died at birth. There’s no birth record, or any other record for that matter…and that’s just plain weird.”

Dallas nodded. “Go on,” he said.

“Then, Amy’s house is broken into by some thug who threatens to hurt Jamie if she doesn’t get our investigation stopped. We’ve got zilch on that incident. Right after that, Amy’s jerk of a husband decides this is the perfect time to dump her. So, he sends over a moving truck, cleans out the house, and absconds with his son on some unscheduled vacation. His sister, Nita, seems to have gone with him. We’ve got zilch on all of that.”

Debbie looked up at Dallas. “Shall I continue?”

“You’re on a roll.”

“You find out from old man Hadden, the accident that killed Amy’s parents was premeditated murder! To top things off, like all this isn’t enough, old man Hadden’s place gets torched, with him in it. At least we think it was him. Still waiting on that.”

Debbie took a deep breath. “So, now my poor friend, Amy, has one single family member left who hasn’t been harmed, killed, or threatened. That is until a couple of minutes ago.”

Dallas bent over her desk. “No.”

“Oh yes. Amy called it in. Some guy with a big scar on his face
,
got into Somerset and gave Cynthia Hadden a wheelchair ride in front a moving car. Amy managed to prevent the chair from being hit, but she’s pretty upset and pissed off. The guy left some weird note.”

Debbie rubbed her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “At the rate things are going, Sheriff, I’d say Amy’s next. I’m terrified for her.”

“You’re not the only one. Where’s she now?”

“Somerset. She said she’d be staying with her grandmother for a while. Wants to make sure Mrs. Hadden’s going to be all right.”

“Send Larson out there right away. We need to fingerprint the chair too,” Dallas instructed her as he disappeared into his office. He called Amy’s cell. Voicemail. He left a message telling her to stay put until he could get to Somerset. Next, he tried Somerset’s Chief Administrator. His secretary took the call.

“He’s not available right now, Sheriff.”

“I need you to get a message to Amy Johnson. I understand she’s with Cynthia Hadden. Please tell her to remain at Somerset until I get there. It could be a few hours, but it’s important that she doesn’t leave alone.”

“Yes, Sheriff. I’ll do that.”

“I’m sending one of my deputies out to investigate the incident. We’ll be taking prints from the wheelchair so please don’t let anyone touch it.”

“I think it might be too late, Sheriff. They put the chair back into the lobby with all the others. I don’t know which one it is.”

Dallas groaned. “Do your best to find it.”

He considered the case. It was definitely escalating out of control. The meat cutter, Sven Werner, whose prints were lifted from the Taurus, was a dangerous criminal wanted on a string of violent crimes including murder. Dallas suspected it was either him, or one of his accomplices, who set fire to old man Hadden’s house, leaving a charred body inside. If Dallas was right, he was dealing with a cold-blooded murderer who was upping the ante. Deb was right. Amy could be next. He needed to get her out of harm’s way until this was over.

Werner was known to work in tandem with an ex-con named Jerry Lee Ray. Ray had served time for racketeering and assault and was wanted for conspiracy to commit murder.

So
, Dallas thought,
what do we have
?
Two or three potential killers that seemingly have no personal reason for the threats or the crimes they’re committing.
That usually means one thing. They work for somebody. The big question is, who?

Debbie stuck her head around the door, interrupting his train of thought. “Sheriff, I meant to tell you, your daughter phoned. Twice.”

Dallas jumped up. “Damn! I forgot.”

“Maya said to let you know that she’s at the McNaugton Rink. You can pick her up there.”

Dallas grabbed his coat. “It’ll take well over an hour to get to Portland,” Dallas said, cursing loudly. “It slipped my mind completely. You wouldn’t think a man would forget the one thing he’d looked forward to all week.”

Debbie handed him his hat as he breezed past her desk. Dallas had given her a name to check out. She’d penciled it on a sheet of paper and now sat, twirling her pencil between her fingers. “Dr. George Johnstone,” she said aloud. “George Johnstone. Why does that sound familiar?” She touched AutoDial and waited for her mother to pick up.

The rink felt cold compared to the milder evening air outside. Dallas walked to the boards, his eyes following the small figure flying over the ice. Maya moved with amazing grace for a ten-year-old. She was building up speed for the dreaded axel, the jump with one and a half revolutions in the air. Dallas knew the setup well. He had dubbed it the
dreaded splatter,
as Maya seldom landed the damned thing and usually ended up in a bone-jarring heap on the ice. She had explained to him: “It’s like jumping off the roof, Dad, but don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

This time she under-rotated. Dallas winced as her right knee cracked against the ice. A second later, almost without losing a beat, she was back up and trying it again.

“Oh my Lord.” Dallas turned away, hoping with all his heart that she landed it this time, because she wouldn’t quit until she did. Bone struck ice a second time. A couple of minutes later, he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck as Maya flew past. “It’s okay Dad,” she called out, “I’ll get this one for sure.”

Grimacing, he turned to look. She was airborne. Steel cut ice and Maya landed it, barely. She glided toward him with a big grin and came to a fast T-stop. “There, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

If she only knew.

Half an hour later they were at her favorite restaurant ordering enough Chinese food for three people, when his cell rang. Maya frowned disapprovingly as he answered.

“Wayburne.”

“You’re eating Chinese right?” Debbie chuckled.

“Almost. What’s up?”

“Well, I might have something, and seeing as how you’re in Portland, I thought I’d run it by you, maybe save you a trip back there.”

“Shoot.” Dallas noticed Maya was eavesdropping intently.

“I finally found out why
Dr. George Johnstone’s
name
was familiar
.
Ran it by my mother and she recognized it right away. He’s the OB/GYN who delivered my aunt’s twins back in 1980. And guess what, something went wrong during the delivery. My aunt almost lost her life. As it was, one of the twins died. Sound familiar, Sheriff?”

“Where was this? Portland?” Dallas leaned back in his chair as the server put huge platters of Chinese food in front of them. Dallas motioned for Maya to start.

“The first time she saw Dr. Johnstone was in Portland, but she delivered the twins in a Houston maternity hospital.”

“Houston?”

“Uh-huh. My mother tells me that my aunt developed complications during pregnancy and Johnstone recommended she go there.”

“Got anything on the hospital?”

“I’m working on it. But I did manage to locate Johnstone’s wife. That’s why I called. It just happens that Mrs. Vera Johnstone lives not too far from where you are right now. I called her before I called you, and asked to speak to
Dr. Johnstone
. She told me in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t live there anymore and hasn’t for years. I can tell you, she didn’t appreciate the call.”

“Did you identify yourself?”

“No way. If you’ve got a pen handy, I’ll give you her address.”

Dallas jotted it down. “Thanks, Deb.” He put the cell back on the table and Maya reached over and turned it off.

“It’s our time now, Dad. Work can wait.” She lathered her egg roll in plum sauce and looked at him thoughtfully as she sunk her teeth into it. “Big case?”

“A real strange one,” Dallas replied, spooning chop suey onto his plate. They ate eagerly and when they were finished they were both surprised to see three empty platters. Dallas checked the time. “Want to come with me on an errand?”

“Sure.”

Dallas drove into an older neighborhood of expensive homes. Maya eyed them curiously. “Who lives here?”

“An older lady. Be right back,” he told her after parking. He was only a few feet up the walk when he heard the truck door slam behind him. Maya ran to catch up. He threw his arm around her. “You were supposed to wait in the truck.”

“If you’re going to run errands on my time, Dad, you’re going to have to put up with me trailing you around.”

Dallas looked at the house. He didn’t anticipate any problem, but he could almost hear his outspoken daughter adding her two bits worth. “Okay, but leave the talking to me.”

“Sure thing.”

The woman who opened the door was in her sixties, well dressed, with a cap of salon-coifed silver hair, flashy diamond earrings, vivid red nails, lots of rings, and an aloof demeanor. Even though she was half a foot shorter than Dallas, she appeared to look down at him. Maya’s dislike for the woman was obvious. Her nose wrinkled as she looked Vera Johnstone up and down.

“Well?” Vera snarled.

“Mrs. Johnstone?” Dallas inquired.

“And you are?”

“An acquaintance of your husband, Dr. Johnstone—”

She cut him off. “Don’t give me that crap. If you were anything of the sort, you’d know he hasn’t set foot in this house for years.” She started to close the door, but Dallas blocked it with his foot.

“You a nurse by chance, Mrs. Johnstone?” Dallas could see by her reaction that he had guessed right. “The way I figure it, you’d probably like to keep Dr. Johnstone’s business away from your front door?” She gave him an icy glare. “Well, ma’am, the best way to do that would be to give me the Doc’s address and I’ll be on my way.”

The woman was suspicious. “Who are you?”

“Let’s just say I’m someone who can bring your past to life.”

She regarded him nervously. “What do you want?” she hissed.

“Like I said, my business is with the Doc.”

The woman’s eyes darted from his face, down to Maya’s, behind them to the pickup, and back to Dallas. “He lives on the coast. There’s no real address—“

Dallas pulled pen and paper from his shirt pocket and thrust them into her hand. “The directions will do just fine,” he said coldly.

She stalled. “I don’t think I can—”

“Oh, I’m sure you can, Mrs. Johnstone, unless you want me to make this official.”

Her eyes lingered on his momentarily, then she scrawled the directions onto the paper and flung it at him. “Now get away from here,” she spat, slamming the door closed a split second after Dallas removed his shoe.

A second before it closed, Maya retorted, “What a bitch!”

“Hey!” Dallas admonished, hurrying Maya off the porch.

“Sorry, Dad, but I couldn’t help myself.”

A man should never mix family and business, but Maya had a point.

Amy stayed with her grandmother long after the older woman had drifted into a troubled sleep. Although Cynthia Hadden had said nothing more, her words,
“A killer”,
echoed in Amy’s mind and put cold fear in her heart. It was a profound statement from Grams, under the circumstances.

Her recognition of the man alarmed Amy even more. That meant her grandmother knew who he was. Was he the one who had driven over her grandfather’s legs and threatened her grandmother with Amy’s life? Had he driven the eighteen-wheeler that killed her parents? Is that why Grams called him
a killer?