Authors: Louise Hendricksen
“I'll have to remember that.” Amy shoved open the door to the lavatory. While she sponged
her face with a wet paper towel, she thought over what the woman had said. If someone
checked Cam's lock every time he came to play handball, they could have gotten lucky one
day and found that the lock hadn't caught. Or there might be some way the lock could be
altered so the steel prongs didn't fit into the cylinder properly. She jotted down a
reminder to check with a locksmith and hurried out to meet Hue.
“You going to sign up?” the woman asked as they headed for the parking lot.
“I may. I live in Ursa Bay, but I might have to be in Wheeler quite often during the next
few weeks."
“Oh, are you visiting someone?"
“No, I'm a private investigator.” Amy opened her I.D. wallet and handed it to Hue.
Hue squinted her eyes as she read. “You're a doctor too?"
“That's right.” Amy opened the passenger door of the station wagon. “Get in out of this
drizzle and I'll explain.” She shut the passenger door after Hue sat down, then went
around to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel.
Hue was looking at her with expectant admiration. “So, how did you come to be both a
doctor
and
a spy?"
Amy laughed. “My father was the medical examiner for Lomitas Island in the San Juans.
Sometimes, in that capacity, he was able to solve crimes."
“Hey, just like on TV."
“Kind of.” She grinned at Hue. “His work fascinated me. So, while most teenage girls were
going out with boys, me and my father were going over a crime scene or examining a dead
body."
Hue shivered and made a face. “You've
got
to be kidding."
“I've always been a little weird,” Amy said with a laugh. “Anyway, to make a long story
short, I got a degree in medicine, pathology, and forensic science. Then Dad and I set
up our own forensic investigation business in Ursa Bay."
Hue frowned. “I still don't quite understand what you do."
“We try to determine cause in cases of questioned death.” She angled her body so her
brown eyes held the other woman's. “Hue, I'm a friend of Cam Nguyen's. I'm trying to
find out who killed his wife, Mai."
Hue drew a quick, harsh breath and tears filmed her eyes.
Amy rested her hand on Hue's sleeve. “So you knew her?"
Hue bobbed her head. “We went through school together.” She sighed and shook her head
sadly. “Mai was so pretty, so full of life. And now she's gone."
“I know. I keep remembering how happy she looked at her wedding.” Amy opened her
notebook. “Cam says Mai changed after her father died. Did you see her after she moved
back to Wheeler?"
“Only once.” Hue bit her lip. “She
did
act strange."
“In what way?"
“Jumpy. We went to lunch. She kept looking over her shoulder as if...” Hue pulled a
tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes. “As if she were afraid."
“Did you know her father?"
“Everyone did.” She gestured toward the town. “He helped all of the families.” She began
to tear her tissue into shreds.
Amy played a hunch. “It's a shame they still haven't found the driver who ran him down.
People like that should be punished."
Hue crushed the shredded tissue into a ball. “One of our people saw it happen."
Amy's eyes narrowed. “Did the person tell the authorities what he'd seen?"
“Oh, no, he won't tell anyone.” Hue twisted her fingers together, swallowed, and stole a
look at Amy. “He's terrified. He thinks he'll be killed, too."
Dread chilled Amy twenty minutes later when she pulled into the Nguyens'
driveway. She chewed half a dozen soda crackers and drank some clear soup from a
thermos, trying to vanquish the familiar wave of nausea. Finally, there was no other
excuse for not going into the house.
She checked the .38 in her shoulder holster. As she withdrew her hand, it brushed against
the white doeskin medicine pouch that hung between her breasts. The previous fall, when
Nathan feared she might die, he had placed it around her neck. He'd said the articles
within would protect her, and they had. Now its spiritual powers had to protect not only
her but the lives she carried inside her as well.
With a tired sigh, she turned up her collar to shield her from the raw wind that was
blowing and carried her equipment to the back porch. Stalling a moment longer, she
studied Pran's greenhouses. Had the perpetrator worked there, perhaps? Was that how he
had managed to come and go as he pleased?
Her attention shifted to the wind-tossed fir grove where they now knew Mai's attacker had
waited. In among the thrashing branches, she thought she saw something black and
solid.
She shivered, lugged her gear into the ransacked kitchen, locked the door, and propped a
chair against it.
Her first full breath filled her nostrils with the odor of incense. Her heart slammed
against her ribs.
He's here.
She took out her gun, braced her arms in front of her, and eased into the living room. On
the floor by the glass patio doors, a six-foot feather palm sprawled atop strewn black
soil. A lacy Ming Aralia and a green-veined white caladium hung limp from empty
porcelain pots.
She shivered. The killer hadn't yet found what he wanted. She moved from room to room,
opening drapes, throwing wide closet doors, and checking behind furniture.
At last satisfied she was alone in the house, she changed into jeans, donned gloves and
knee pads, and began an inspection of the polished wood floors. Mai's barefooted killer
had to have left a sole print.
An hour's search turned up several clear prints in the living room. She set a camcorder
on a tripod to pan the area, then positioned an overturned coffee can containing a
sixty-watt bulb near the print, inverted a small fish tank over that, and set a
fingerprint camera down on the floor within arm's reach.
When ready, she soaked a cotton ball in sodium hydroxide solution, lay it in a small
ceramic dish, added Super Glue, lifted the fish tank, and set the dish on the hot coffee
can.
Gradually, the heat and fuming agent worked its magic and a whitish-colored sole print
appeared. She snapped pictures and moved the entire setup to the next section of
flooring.
At some point in her routine, Amy got the distinct feeling someone was watching her.
Without lifting her head, she checked the patio doors. Nothing. Rising, she pretended to
reach for her forensic satchel but instead grabbed the camcorder handle and swung it
toward the front windows.
Fear ballooned in her chest.
A man in a black hood crouched in the shrubbery, his lips drawn into an animal-like
snarl. His cold eyes glittering through slitted cloth, he glared at her. Then he
vanished.
That evening, Amy checked her coat and lined up behind several other
people in the restaurant's foyer. She straightened the navy blue jacket of her maternity
outfit. The one that had made her feel so good the day she'd met Nathan. Now, it
appeared to bulge in all the wrong places.
Her shoulders drooped. Not even twenty-four hours had elapsed since Nathan left and
already the loneliness had returned twofold.
In an attempt to raise her spirits, she gazed around at The Cove's seashell pink walls,
aquamarine carpeting, brass ships' sextants, portholes, and bells. Weariness weighed
down her eyes and she could feel the beginning of a headache. If she'd had any sense,
she'd have stayed home.
The maître d' spoke her name and she followed him to a window table with a view of the
San Juan Islands in the distance. As she approached, Jed MacManus leaped to his feet,
pulled out her chair and grinned at her. “Glad you could make it."
Little did he know, she thought, an image of the hooded man flashing before her eyes.
With a forced smile, she sank onto the chair he held. “I wasn't certain I would for
awhile there.” To make certain he hadn't followed her, she'd taken a roundabout route
home.
Jed seated himself across from her. “Oh no?"
“I'll tell you about it after you read this.” She handed him an envelope containing her
father's autopsy report and a transcript of their current investigative report.
He read swiftly, underlining items as he scanned each page. When he finished, he tucked
the envelope in the pocket of his brown tweed blazer and sighed. “Not too helpful, I'm
afraid. The prosecutor will contend that Cam tortured and raped his wife."
“Unless the DNA on the semen proves otherwise."
“He could still accuse Cam of hiring the killer.” Jed stowed his rimless glasses in a
case in the pocket of his green shirt. “Speaking of the killer, do you have any idea why
the man keeps coming back to ransack the house? Why would he take the risk of getting
caught?"
“Whatever he's looking for must mean a lot to him.” Amy took a sip of ice water. “He
returned to the house again today."
Jed's features sharpened. “How do you know?"
Before she could reply, the waiter appeared. When they had ordered, Amy took another sip
of water. “I think he left the house a few minutes before I arrived."
Jed sat forward. “Was the sheriff with you?"
“No,"
“Good God, you didn't go there alone, did you?"
She stared back at him, her jaw set. “I did, yes. It's my job."
“That may be, Dr. Prescott, but you won't be of much use to Cam or anyone else if your
foolishness gets you killed."
Amy folded her arms. “I've managed to look after myself just fine up to now."
Jed's nostrils flared. “That's not the point. He could have shown up while you were
there."
“He did!” She realized her voice sounded shrill.
Relax. Take deep breaths.
Why was
she getting so upset? she wondered.
“Jesus Christ, are you crazy?"
Her throat closed up.
Not now.
She squeezed her hands together. Tears gathered at
the corners of her eyes.
Shit!
She hated the weakness she felt, her bone
tiredness. She hated him for speaking to her in such a way. If any man was going to chew
her out, it should be Nathan. She blinked back her tears.
Damn men. Damn a world
where nothing came out right.
“Hey, I'm sorry.” Jed viewed her with an anxious expression. “You've had quite a scare
and I'm not helping matters.” He peered at her with concern in his eyes. “You all
right?"
A tear escaped her eye and she wiped it away with her finger. “I don't know what's wrong
with me.” She bit her lip. “I'm sorry."
“Look, I understand, Amy.” He cocked his head. “Do you mind if I call you Amy? For
months, Cam's been telling me what a terrific person you are. I feel like I know
you."
“Terrific person?” Another rolled down her face. “Terrible mess is more like it."
Jed's beeper went off then, and much to her relief the attorney went off to find a phone.
By the time he returned, she had managed to get her emotions under control.
She forced a feeble smile. “I don't know what came over me. I'm usually not such a
wimp."
“Hey, don't give it another thought. You're looking at one of the afflicted. A bleeding
divorce casualty."
“Oh,” Amy said. “Been there, done that.” She fidgeted in her seat. He'd listened to her
woes, now she'd probably have to listen to his.
He grinned and his blue eyes lit up. “What's a nice lady like you doing in this mean
business anyway?"
Relieved at his upbeat approach, she settled back in her chair. “I guess my father's to
blame.” She told him how she'd gotten involved in forensics at an early age. “I've never
considered doing anything else.” She gave him a sheepish glance. “Today, my personal
life kind of caved in on me."
He nodded. “Once that happened to me while I was doing my summation for the jury.” He
made a face. “I don't know who was more embarrassed by my tears, them or me."
She squared her shoulders. “About this afternoon. The man I saw was wearing a knit hood
over his head. I didn't see his face."
“Where was he, for God's sake?"
“Watching me from outside the window.” Amy shuddered. “I've never seen such hate-filled
eyes,” she said and peered at the seafood dish the server set in front of her. God
willing, the meal would rest easy on her stomach.
Jed sliced off a piece of his fillet mignon and chewed thoughtfully. “You have any
theories about what the guy is after?"
“Did Cam tell you Mai's father was killed by a hit-and-run driver?” Amy tasted the dish
and found it to be delicious.
Jed frowned. “No. I knew her father died, but that's all."
“Dad and I think the two deaths might be connected."
“Really?” He mixed sour cream, butter, and bacon bits into his potato and sampled the
results with a satisfied expression. “I got the contents of Pran's safety deposit box
today."
Amy leaned forward. “Find anything interesting?"
“Haven't looked yet” He brushed a piece of parsley to the edge of his plate. “Cam refuses
to believe his wife was interested in another man. He hoped Pran's personal effects
might give him a clue as to Mai's emotional state the last few months of her life.” Jed
sliced off anther piece of steak. “So, why'd you go back to the Nguyen house?"
“To look for sole prints. The ones I took today show that our suspect has a triangular
scar on his right heel and that he's flatfooted."
“Won't do you much good unless the man is caught."
“We may be getting closer. I lifted a fingerprint from underneath the toilet lid."
Jed grinned. “Smart lady.” He regarded her with a steady gaze. “Amy, may I see you
again?"
Amy set down her fork. “I don't think that's a good idea. My life is a shambles right
now."