A tall, slender brunette, she carried herself with an almost regal elegance, but the wildness in her violet-colored eyes drew a shiver up Richards spine. Dressed all in white, she appeared at once innocent and seductive. Aloof, and yet dangerously charismatic. A walking contradiction.
Seeing her in person for the first time, Richard could appreciate why men were so drawn to her, how they could easily and unsuspectingly become entangled in her deadly web. Especially someone as naive as his brother.
There she is, the man seated across the table said in a low voice. She just came in. No, dont turn! We dont want her to see us together.
Richard didnt have to swivel around; hed been watching her in the large mirror that hung at the back of the restaurant ever since shed walked through the door. The lunchtime crowd at Seraphinas, one of Houstons hottest downtown restaurants, was large and noisy, but it seemed to Richard that a hush fell over the place when she entered.
Or perhaps that was only his imagination. He was probably attributing powers to the woman that she didnt possess. But it was an understandable mistake, considering he knew only too well how truly cunning she was. And how maddeningly elusive. Hed been on her trail for more years than he cared to remember.
And now hed found her.
He picked up his drink with a hand that didnt tremble, that didnt give away the rage surging through his whole body, and said, almost matter-of-factly, When can I meet her?
Itll take at least a couple of weeks for my operatives to gather all the information we need.
I was hoping it could be sooner.
Max Tripp shook his head. Youll just have to be patient, Im afraid. We dont want to rush the process. Each piece of information is vital to the outcome. In the meantime, try to stay focused on the bigger picture. If a meeting with Dr. West was all you wanted, you could have arranged it yourself by picking up the phone and making an appointment. But thats not why you came to us, is it?
No.
You told us in your preliminary interview that Dr. West is the woman of your dreams, the woman with whom you want to spend the rest of your life. We can help you make that happen, but as I said, youll have to be patient. Designing the appropriate coincidental meeting can sometimes take weeks, or even months of planning and preparation, but most of our clients agree that the outcome is well worth the wait.
Most of your clients havent been waiting seven years to catch a killer at her own game.
Richard glanced at Darian West in the mirror again. She was seated alone, but from the admiring stares she received from nearby diners, he assumed her solitude was by choice.
Was she waiting for someone? Her next victim?
Or was her intended prey somewhere in that very room?
Richard glanced around the crowded restaurant. When his gaze returned to her reflection, he found her staring at him, and his blood turned to ice.
He suppressed a shudder as he focused his attention on Max Tripp. Confidentiality is guaranteed, I assume.
Of course. Our reputation is built on our discretion. Shell never know that your initial meeting was all carefully orchestrated unless you decide to tell her yourself. The same goes for our investigation. Well talk to her friends, neighbors, business associatesanyone who can help us gain insight into her personality and character, her likes and dislikes, even her hopes and dreams. By the time were finished, well know Dr. West inside and out, but neither she nor the people we interview will ever suspect our motives. Were good at what we do, Mr. Berkleybut then, you already knew that. A man with your resources would have made certain of our expertise before you contacted us. Am I right?
Im nothing if not careful, Richard agreed.
Something in his tone must have disturbed Max Tripp, because he glanced away, frowning. Yes, I sensed that, he murmured.
I understand that you were once a police officer, Mr. Tripp.
Suspicion gleamed in the mans eyes. So you have done your homework.
Do you know an HPD detective named Ellison Kane?
I know of him, but I dont think anyone really knows him. Kanes a loner type. Doesnt even work with a partner, which means hes probably got connections. Tripp paused. Whats your interest in him anyway?
Richard said casually, Our paths crossed on a case once. Id like to look him up.
Tripp sat back and stared at him for a moment. This doesnt have anything to do with Dr. West, does it?
Why would you assume that?
He shrugged. Just a hunch. And if Im right, let me caution you that its highly ill-advised for a client to become involved in the investigation. If you start asking questions about Dr. West and she gets wind of it
Thats why I want you to make the arrangements, Richard cut in.
Arrangements?
Set up a time and place where Kane and I can meet. Tell him anything he says will go no further than our meeting, and make sure he understands that I expect the same from him.
Tripps tone sharpened. Look, you dont know what youre getting yourself into here. Kanes not going to agree to meet with you if you attach conditions. You start making demands, youre just going to piss him off. And believe me when I tell you that Ellison Kane is not the kind of guy you want for an enemy.
Richard dismissed his concern. You let me worry about Kane. Just make the call.
And if he doesnt agree?
He will. Richard picked up his drink as he glanced again at Darian Wests reflection. Tell him we have a common interest in spiders. The deadly kind.
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLISON KANE had little tolerance for assholes, especially the smug, self-important variety. And by all indications, Richard Berkley fell comfortably into that category.
As Kane watched him get out of his car and walk slowly up the drive, he decided the man was in serious need of an attitude adjustment.
The way he walked, the way he dressedeverything about him annoyed the hell out of Kane. But then, according to Max Tripp, the guy was a lawyerso what could you expect?
If there was anything lower on the face of the earth than a criminal defense attorney, Kane had yet to run across such an animal. And hed seen some pretty rough characters in his day.
The problem with Berkley was that he hadnt yet realized he was no longer in control. Hed left that prerogative behind when hed come looking for Kane. He was on Kanes turf now, and there were certain rules that had to be adhered to. Number one being that in the south Harris County town of Seaport, you did not want to get on Ellison Kanes bad side.
He knew the area too wellthe bayous that cut through the county, the alleyways and dirt roads that couldnt be found on any map. Hed even made a habit of walking that vast wasteland along the I-45 corridor known as the killing fields, where the bodies of young women and little girls had been turning up for more than twenty years.
The suburbs south of Houston werent exactly friendly territory, and if Berkley knew what was good for him, hed mind his manners. Live and let live seemed to be the universal motto down here, and Kane liked it that way. Nobody got all up in his business, and in return, he didnt ask questions about boats moving around in the Gulf at all hours of the night. The locals had a tendency to be suspicious, nervous, even a little trigger-happy at times, and a man like Berkley could get himself into some real trouble if he wasnt careful. He could end up getting lost, and never be heard from again.
It had happened before.
As Berkley climbed the porch steps, Kane eased the rosewood-handled .45 from his shoulder holster and thumbed off the safety.
He waited until he heard Berkleys footsteps on the porch, then he whipped open the door and thrust the gun barrel beneath the mans chin.
To Berkleys credit, he didnt flinch. He didnt so much as blink. His unwavering stare was positively chilling.
Then one brow rose slightly. Sergeant Kane, I presume?
The mans voice sent something unpleasant scurrying along Kanes spine, which surprised him. There werent many men who could unnerve him like that.
Well, hell, he thought. This could get interesting.
THE MAN WAS PATHOLOGICAL, Richard decided as he watched Kane step onto the porch and glance up and down the street.
You alone? he demanded.
Of course.
He dropped the weapon to his side and head-gestured for Richard to follow him into the tiny, clapboard house. Once they were both inside, Kane closed and bolted the door.
Richard took a quick survey of his surroundings. The house was close and gloomy, so claustrophobic he had to suppress the urge to tug at his tie. Very little sunshine crept through the single front window that looked out on a scraggly yard littered with car parts, a rusted-out motorcycle and an assortment of debris that Richard couldnt identify.
The interior wasnt much better. The furnishings consisted of folding lawn chairs and what looked to be finds brought home from the city dump. Every inch of table and counter space was used for newspapers, magazines and file folders crammed full of documents, but for all the clutter, the place appeared basically clean. Scrubbed even. The smell of ammonia clung to the air.
Kane dumped a stack of papers from one of the lawn chairs and motioned for him to sit. As Richard folded himself into the rickety chair, he hoped the aluminum frame wouldnt collapse underneath him.
Kane took the only real chair in the room, a tattered recliner that creaked ominously when he sat, though he was by no means a big man. He was perhaps five-nine or -ten, with the kind of lean, hungry visage that reminded Richard of a stray dog hed rescued once. No matter how often the mutt was fed, he could never get enough to eat, and hed seemed almost pathetically grateful for any scrap of attention that came his way. But at the same time, Richard always had the feeling that with one wrong move, the animal would just as soon go for his jugular.
He got that same vibe from Kane. The man certainly had the appearance of a stray with his uncombed, dirty-blond hair, faded T-shirt and threadbare jeans. But just like his house, the unkempt facade was deceptive. His clothing and hair were clean, his fingernails neatly clipped. Either he had a split personality, or he wanted people to get an entirely inaccurate picture of him. Richard couldnt help wondering why.
Kane laid the .45 on the TV tray beside the recliner. How did you find out about me anyway?
We have a mutual acquaintance.
Kane snorted. If you mean Max Tripp, dont make the mistake of thinking his name carries any weight around here. I cant stand that bastard.
Im talking about Michael Farmer.
Who?
The one-syllable question was a little too abrupt. Richard would have expected better from a man like Kane. Lets not play games here. You know the name. I can see it in your eyes. He paused. And in case Tripp didnt make it clear, let me assure you, Sergeant, that anything you tell me about Michael Farmer will go no farther than this room.
And why should I trust you? Kane challenged.
Ill give you several reasons. Richard removed a wad of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and tossed them onto the TV tray next to Kane. A thousand dollars just for answering a few questions. Not a bad days work, and no one outside this room ever has to know.
Kane glanced at the bills, then back at Richard. I dont know about where you come from, but down here, attempting to bribe a police officer could get you jail time.
Then it behooves both of us to keep our mouths shut about this meeting.
Something that might have been respect crossed Kanes features. What are you after, Berkley?
I want information about Michael Farmer. You do remember him, dont you?
Kane sighed. Yeah, I remember him. He was that college kid who died in a dorm fire up in Connecticut. He scratched the back of his neck. Hell, that had to bewhat? Seven, eight years ago?
It was seven, Richard confirmed. I have a few questions Id like to ask you about that fire.
Kanes gaze narrowed. Why? That kids family bringing a lawsuit against the school or something? Its a little late for that, isnt it?
Being a cop, you should know theres no statute of limitation on murder.
Kane looked startled. Murder? Who said anything about murder?
You did. Richard studied the mans expression. He hadnt figured Kane out yet, but he would. Hed become adept over the years in interpreting every blink, flicker and tic of a witness or juror. So far, Kane remained an enigma. Seven years ago you hinted to at least one person at Drury University that you thought Michael Farmer had been murdered by his girlfriend.
Kane rubbed the stubble on his chin. What if I did? I never could prove it, and besides, the university was more interested in hushing the whole thing up than they were in getting at the truth. Murder would have been bad for their reputation. Not a lot of parents want to send their kids off to a schoolespecially one with Drurys price tagthat cant protect them.
You worked for the campus police department back then. According to the official record, you were the first officer to respond to the fire.
Kane nodded. I was on patrol that night. I happened to be driving by the dorm when I heard the alarm go off. Then I saw smoke coming out of some of the upper-level windows, and I called it in.
You did more than that, Richard said. From what I understand, you rushed into the dorm and helped people get out. You were credited with saving lives.
Kane shrugged and glanced away. He appeared uncomfortable with the accolades. I was just doing my job, and yeah, luckily, most of the kids did get out. Everyone except Farmer. Nobody thought to knock on his door because he was supposed to be away for the weekend. The best we could figure, he had a sudden change of plans and didnt tell anyone.
So no one knew he was there.
Right.
Except possibly the girlfriend.
Kanes gaze lifted. Something dark flickered in his eyes. Right again.
Richard got up and paced over to the window to stare out for a moment. The neighborhood where Kane lived was isolated and quiet. One of those places that seemed to wear a perpetual air of foreboding, as if the things that went on there at night were best not examined by daylight.
Richard suppressed his own feeling of foreboding as he turned back to Kane. The police thought the fire started in Michaels room.
Thats what they thought, yeah. According to the coroner, Farmer had been drinking. He had a blood alcohol content of .06, and traces of an opiate showed up in the tox screen. The police and the medical examiner concluded that the kid was so hammered, he passed out in bed with a lit cigarette and never woke up.