You Can't Hide (13 page)

“Dr. Ciccotel i, I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon.” His voice sounded tense, angry once again. “We-”

“Whatever it is, it needs to wait.” She bypassed the elevator and took the stairs at a run, barely aware of Amy fol owing close behind. “I need your help. I got another call.”

“Who?”

“Avery Winslow. My secretary is calling 911 now. Call her if you need Winslow’s address. I’m on my way. Please meet me there.”

“We will.”

“Hurry, Detective.” She snapped her phone closed and burst into the parking garage. “My car’s over there.”

“We’re taking mine.” Amy grabbed her arm and steered her the opposite direction. “You’re in no condition to drive.” They reached Amy’s Lexus in a minute that seemed like a year. Tess was trembling as Amy pul ed out of the garage and into traffic. She jumped when Amy’s hand closed over hers. “Breathe, Tess. Just breathe. I’l get you there as fast as I can.”

Monday, March 13, 3:45 P.M.

“Does it have a gift tag?” Murphy asked.

Aidan stood up, holding Mr. Avery Winslow’s Colt.45 between two gloved fingers. Mr. Winslow wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

“No gift tag.” Just brains and fragments of skul all over the man’s living room. The wall behind his computer desk bore the most debris, but Winslow’s computer monitor was covered, the keyboard red and gray and sticky. The monitor was knocked askew. Behind the blood and tissue matter the screen brightened and darkened as a series of pictures scrol ed. Murphy got close enough to the screen to study the slide show through the mess. “Baby pictures. A little boy.”

A chair with wheels lay on its side, next to Winslow’s body. “He was sitting in his computer chair with his back to the screen,” Aidan said.

Murphy grunted. “The force of the shot must have thrown him into the monitor.”

Aidan crouched down beside the body. “He’s holding a bear.” For some reason it made his throat tighten. Swallowing it back, he looked up at Murphy. “A stuffed teddy bear with a gold gift tag. Same kind as before. ‘Happy Birthday, Avery, Jr.’”

Murphy grimaced philosophically. “But no flowers,” he observed.

“Obviously not his trigger.”

“Here’s the box the bear came in.” Murphy picked it up from the coffee table, along with a notepad. “He was meeting Tess today at three.”

“Looks like he got distracted,” Jack Unger said from the doorway. “Spinnelli wanted me here, just in case.” He took in the scene with a critical eye. “I’l get my team over here and we’l get started.”

Aidan pointed him back to the bathroom. “See if he has any medication. Tag and bag everything, even the aspirin.”

Jack tossed a look of mild impatience over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Aidan. We’ll go over this place with a pair of tweezers.”

Murphy moved beside the computer desk, nudging the mouse with one gloved finger. “The computer is stuck on this slide show. Moving the mouse doesn’t stop it.”

“Could be mucked up with brain mush.”

“You don’t think so, do you?”

49

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

Aidan shook his head. “No. Let’s have the hard drive hauled in, too. You want the bedroom or the kitchen?”

“I’l take the bedroom.”

Leaving Aidan to search the kitchen. It was dirty, stacks of dishes in the sink. He touched the oven. It was hot, the dial turned to its highest setting. But he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him when he pul ed the door down. Gagging, he took a giant step back as ful comprehension sank in. “Murphy! Come and see this.”

Murphy wasted no time, hurrying to look over his shoulder. “What the hel ?”

“It’s not real,” Aidan said grimly. He pul ed out his handkerchief and tugged on the oven rack until the roasting pan was clear of the oven. “Just a dol , but it looks damn real.” The dol ’s fingers, toes, and nose were melted and the stench of burning hair burned his nose and eyes.

“Real hair and everything.”

“Close it up,” Jack ordered behind them and the Aidan quickly obeyed. “We may be able to figure out how long it’s been in there based on the inside temperature.” Jack flipped the oven light on and peered through the glass. “That’s…” He shook his head. “Inhuman. What’s this guy’s story, anyway?”

“Tess can tel us,” Murphy said, opening a drawer. “Aidan, look.”

Aidan looked down at the revolver that lay on top of a pile of oven mitts with disgust. “They were hoping he’d find the dol , get unhinged, then find this.”

A voice came from the living room. “Detectives?” Aidan stepped back into the living room where the ME tech stood frowning over Winslow’s body. “I’m Johnson from VanderBeck’s office. Julia said this guy gets the royal treatment. What am I looking for?”

“Time of death for starters,” Aidan said. “Tox screen, for sure.”

Johnson crouched next to the body. “He’s still warm. Blood hasn’t started coagulating. I’d say he pul ed the trigger an hour ago, tops. What’s with the bear? Oh, man, look at this,” he continued, not waiting for an answer. He looked up, stunned surprise on his face. “My mother always used to say we drove her to pul her hair out, but I never saw anybody who really did.”

Aidan bent over for a closer look. In his left hand Winslow clutched a handful of dark brown hair, threaded with silver. The same hair that straggled from a hunk of scalp still loosely hanging from the back of his head.

Johnson gently removed the bear from Winslow’s hand and held it up for inspection, rotating it slowly. “His hair’s on the bear, too. He must have pul ed it out with both hands before grabbing the bear.”

“What did they do to you, Winslow?” Aidan murmured.

“Sorry, Detective, I need a little space here. Can you back up?”

Aidan careful y stepped aside, his focus on the ME’s movements until a strangled cry jerked his gaze to the open door.

Where Tess Ciccotelli stood, coatless, her hair and suit jacket soaking wet. Her face utterly bloodless. One hand covered her mouth and her dark eyes were wide with horror. She took a single stumbling step into the living room and stopped.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Oh, Avery.”

A uniform stationed in the hallway grabbed her arm. “Sorry, Detective. She got by me.” He pul ed her, but she struggled, her eyes never leaving Avery Winslow’s body. The cop yanked again, harder this time. “Come on,
Doctor
.” The term was not respectful and, together with the sight of the man’s hands on her, set Aidan’s temper to boiling.

“Take your hands off her, Officer.” Despite his efforts to keep his voice calm, it still came out as a growl.

The cop blinked, genuinely surprised. “This is Tess Ciccotelli, Detective. She-”

“We know who she is,” Aidan said acidly. “Let her go.”

His face darkening, the officer complied, stepping back with a look of complete contempt at Ciccotelli, which she never even noticed. Murphy peeled off one glove, took her by the shoulder

50

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

and tugged. “Come on, Tess,” he murmured. “There isn’t anything you can do now. Let me call somebody to take you home.”

She shrugged free of Murphy’s grasp. “He lost his son,” she said as if none of them had spoken. “His baby.” She lifted her eyes to Aidan’s and in that moment any vestiges of doubt as to her innocence were… simply erased. There was anguish in her eyes. And truth.

“How did he lose his son?” Aidan asked quietly. And watched her throat work beneath the colorful silk scarf she wore. He’d been very wrong. He could see that now.

“It was last summer,” she murmured. “It was so hot, remember? He was running out the door to go to work that morning when his wife reminded him that it was his turn to drop their son off at day care.” Her eyes dropped back down to Winslow’s body, pursing her lips when they trembled.

From the corner of his eye he saw Johnson’s hands still and Jack watching from the kitchen archway. Ciccotelli just went on, oblivious to all of them, her voice taking on an ethereal quality that raised the hair on the back of his neck.

“He didn’t want to. He was busy. And running late. His mind was fil ed with appointments, but he did what his wife asked because they shared the baby duties equally and…” Her throat worked again. “And because he loved his son. He strapped the baby into his car seat and settled in for the drive. Traffic was bad and he became even later. He flipped on a CD to calm down. Finally he got to work and ran inside. He had clients waiting. Somewhere along the way he’d forgotten about his son. Until a few hours later when he heard a disturbance outside. There was a police car in the parking lot, and an ambulance. One of the officers was breaking a car window.”

She closed her eyes. “It was his minivan, Mr. Winslow’s, the baby still inside. They said the temperature inside the van had reached a hundred and ten. His baby’s brain… was…” She trailed off shaking her head, unable to continue. Not needing to. The picture she’d painted was vividly clear. Aidan could only imagine the scene, the frantic helplessness of a father, standing there, knowing he’d done such a terrible thing. The image of that father discovering a dol baking in the oven became even more horrific.

“They tried to revive the baby while Avery stood there and watched but it was too late,” she finished heavily. “His son had been dead for at least two hours.”

Aidan drew a breath. This was not the time to think about all his nieces and nephews, about how busy his own brothers so often were. How such a tragic mistake could happen to even good parents. But he did anyway. And because he did, he cleared his throat roughly. “When did he come to you?”

“After he tried to commit suicide the first time. His wife had left him by then. He… hated himself. And everyone he knew blamed him.” She opened her eyes, met his gaze. “It was an accident, Detective. Just a horrible accident.”

Johnson had quietly begun to work again. “Detectives, there’s something underneath him,”

he said, pul ing a flat box the size of a small plate from beneath Winslow’s body. Murphy took the box and lifted the lid. He looked up with a puzzled frown as he tilted the box so they could see the contents. “It’s a CD. The soundtrack to
Phantom of the Opera
. Why?”

She’d flinched as if she’d been shocked with forty volts. Her fingertips pressed her lips as she stared at the CD in the box. “It was the music he listened to that day. He’d been caught up, he said, singing ‘Music of the Night.’” Again she swallowed hard. “After that day, it was all he could hear. That and his baby crying. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function. He lost his job, his wife. His guilt drove him to the edge.”

“Wel , somebody just pushed him over,” Aidan said and she nodded woodenly.

“Yes. They did.”

Murphy replaced the box’s lid and gave it to Jack. “Bag it. Please.”

“Detectives.” Johnson rol ed the body onto its side, exposing a color photo, eight-and-a-halfby-eleven and glossy. And more horrible than Melanie hanging from a noose. Aidan’s stomach turned over, wanting to avert his eyes, somehow unable to. A baby wearing a blue playsuit sat in a rear-facing car seat, his face red and bloated, his features barely recognizable.

51

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

Her movements stiff, Tess Ciccotelli walked from the doorway to Aidan’s side and looked down. “That’s his son.” Her voice was harsh, trembling now with rage. “That’s how the police found him that morning.” Her eyes slid closed and her lips twisted bitterly. “You want to know the ironic thing? Whoever sent this didn’t need to. Avery Winslow saw this picture every damn time he closed his eyes.”

No one said a word for a few beats. Then Murphy blew out a breath. “There’s an envelope here on the desk, same size as the picture.” With a grimace he grasped the one corner not covered by blood and brain. Then hissed out the return address. “‘Dr. T. Ciccotelli, MD.’ It’s embossed, Tess. It’s one of yours.”

Her mouth dropped open, her body frozen. Her horrified gaze flicked from the envelope to the picture to Avery Winslow’s body, where she stared, a storm raging in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I need to go.” She spun on her heel and ran for the door.

Murphy started after her, but Aidan shook his head, pulling off his gloves. “I’ll go.” She was headed for the stairwel door. “Dr. Ciccotelli, wait.” She kept going, her face resolutely turned away. He fol owed her through the door, seeing the top of her head halfway down the first flight.

“Doctor, stop.” She hesitated for the briefest of moments, then charged faster, grabbing onto the handrail for balance as she careened around a corner to the next flight down. Tess ran, the stairs a blur under her feet. Reagan was still coming, his footsteps echoing behind her, getting louder. But she couldn’t stop, couldn’t breathe. She needed a minute. Just a minute to get her breath, her composure.

That picture… dear God. Who would do this? Who could be so cruel?
That picture… that hideous obscenity had come in her envelope.
With my name embossed into the corner.
Avery had opened the envelope because he trusted her. Her throat closed. What he must have thought…

felt.
The pain of seeing his son like that… and thinking it came from me
. Then putting his gun in his mouth and pul ing the trigger.

He was dead. Avery was dead. But as bad as that was, the bigger reality was far worse. Even an hour ago she’d been able to tell herself that she wasn’t to blame, that she’d been merely a tool used by someone who wanted Cynthia Adams dead.

Now she knew that wasn’t true. Now she knew that Cynthia and Avery had been the tools. The real target…
Is me.
Two innocent people were dead.
Because of me.
She dragged in a sobbing breath and abruptly stopped, hanging on to the handrail while her heart pounded in her ears and her knees gave way. She lowered herself to sit on a step, each breath she drew harder than the last.

The sound of Reagan’s footsteps slowed, then ceased. He was right behind her. Now the only sound in the stairwell was that of her own ragged breathing.

“Tess,” he said. Nothing more. Just that.

But the one syl able of her name seemed to hover between them, pulsing with a life of its own. She fixed her eyes on the wal in front of her. “I won’t leave town,” she said and rose to her feet. “You have my word. I’l cooperate in any way I can.” Woodenly she began walking again and she’d made it down another half flight before he passed her on the left. He stopped on the landing, blocking her path with his big body. Tess stopped on the last step, her knees shaking.
He can’t arrest you,
she told herself.
You haven’t done anything.
But she knew he could if he chose and there wouldn’t be a damn thing she could do about it.