Lisa Jackson - Most Likely To Die

Each of them had been wearing a disguise. The bag lady, the ugly redhead, and the plump blonde.

Had they all been the same person?

Of course!

Someone was stalking Rachel, keeping tabs on her, playing some sort of sick game.

Rachel dried her face with a hand towel and returned to the bedroom to get her cell phone. She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. Five-thirty. Would he be awake at this hour? Probably not.

She flipped open her phone and typed in a text message, then sent it to Dean.

When you wake up, contact me. We need to talk.

Within minutes she received a reply.

I’m awake. Call me. Or come over to my place.

Immediately she called him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked the minute he answered.

“Someone has been stalking me for the past few weeks.”

“Why are you just now telling me?”

“Because I just now realized it,” she said. “I can’t believe it took me this long to realize what was going on. Even though she was wearing disguises and changing them to throw me off, I should have sensed something.”

“Slow down, honey. You lost me at the word disguises.”

“My stalker was changing her looks, wearing different disguises when she followed me.”

“Are you sure about this?”

Rachel blew out an aggravated breath. “I’m not sure of anything. It’s five-thirty in the morning. I had a horrible nightmare in which Jake’s smiling corpse appeared to me. I have to go to Mandy’s funeral this afternoon and…” She clicked her tongue. “I’m just a little scared.”

“Want me to come over there?”

“No, you’d just wake up Charlie and Laraine.”

“How about I pick you up and we go somewhere for an early breakfast?”

“Give me thirty minutes to grab a shower,” she told him. “I’ll leave Laraine a note telling her where I’ve gone. I’ll meet you out front.”

“Wait inside, just to be safe, until you see me drive up.”

“You don’t think she’s outside this time of the morning, just waiting for a chance to attack me, do you?”

“I don’t think she wants to kill you,” Dean said. “At least not yet. She’s playing with you, tormenting you. And she’s bold about it, too. She took a chance every time she put on a disguise and followed you. What if you’d recognized her?”

“I wish I had. I wish I’d realized what was happening, but my mind has been so cluttered with facts about Jake’s old murder case and about Mandy’s recent murder that I couldn’t see what was right under my nose.”

“So now you know. You’re aware of what’s been happening. You’ll be on the lookout for her.”

Rachel’s heartbeat accelerated, the thought of actually coming face-to-face with the mystery woman unsettling.

“Rach?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little rattled. Sometimes nightmares have a way of seeming a little too real.”

“What are you wearing right now?”

“What?”

“Do you have on a gown or PJs or do you sleep in the raw?”

Startled by his question, it took her a full minute to realize what he was doing and why. “Not very subtle, McMichaels. It’s obvious you’re trying to get my mind off the stalker.”

“Yeah, that and I’m curious as to whether you’re naked right now.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m wearing a ratty old Alabama T-shirt.”

“I like a woman who goes for comfort in her sleepwear.”

“Do you now?”

“In case you’re interested, I sleep in my briefs.”

“Why would I be interested?”

“For the same reason I’m curious about you.”

“Look, let’s end this silly game right now.” She wasn’t good at flirtatious game playing. She was an up-front, what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of woman. If he came right out and asked her to have sex with him, she probably would. “Pick me up in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be there, honey. With bells on.”

Dean studied her as she sat there, her small, delicate hands wrapped around a white coffee mug, her gaze focused on the black liquid inside. Just looking at her turned him inside out. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Why didn’t he just tell her that he wanted her? The worst that could happen was that she’d say no. And it wasn’t as if he’d never been rejected before. But she wasn’t just any woman. This was Rachel.

Besides that, she wasn’t going to stay in Portland. She was here for only two reasons-the reunion and reopening the Cupid Killer case. For twenty years, he hadn’t been a blip on her radar, and truth be told, he hadn’t consciously thought about her all that often, so why couldn’t he just accept that they were friends and nothing more? Once that had been enough, or at least he’d convinced himself that it was. But he wasn’t a horny teenage boy having sex with other girls while he thought about one girl in particular.

The good girl I would have died to protect. Would have killed to protect.

They had eaten the daily special-bacon, eggs, and toast-and discussed Rachel’s nightmare and its implications. The bottom line was that neither of them wanted to believe that someone from the old gang had killed Jake and had now resurfaced and was killing again.

“When we get to headquarters, I’ll try to find out if one of the girls flew to New York around the same time Aurora did,” Dean said.

“And if one of them did?”

Dean grimaced. “Then we find out why she was there.”

Rachel sipped on the coffee. “And if none of them were in New York when Aurora was killed and Lindsay was attacked, then what?”

“Then we look elsewhere. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“This woman you’ve seen wearing various disguises could be not only wearing costumes to hide her true identity, she could use a fake ID,” Dean said. “It’s not that difficult to get hold of a fake driver’s license, and that’s all she’d need to board a plane from Portland to New York City.”

“Damn! If she did that, then what’s the point of checking?”

“I’m just saying maybe she used a fake ID. I’ll still check the flights for the time around Aurora’s trip.”

Four hours and five cups of coffee later, Dean stopped by Rachel’s desk at downtown headquarters. “Good news and bad news,” he said.

“Let’s hear the good first.”

“I spoke to Patrick Dewey’s son. He’s promised to talk to his mother again and see if he can’t persuade her to see us. It seems she’s selling her house and is in the middle of packing up and clearing out. He’s not sure how she’ll react when he talks to her again.”

“That’s the good news?”

Dean grinned. She loved his cocky grin. It made her want to kiss him.

“It could be good news, if Mrs. Dewey will talk to us. We’ve run into a dead end on the Cupid Killer case, just as your dad did twenty years ago. Without a new lead of some kind…” Dean threw up his open palms in a that’s-it gesture.

“We’re grabbing for straws thinking Mrs. Dewey might be able to shed some new light on the old case, aren’t we?”

“Probably.”

Rachel frowned. “So, what’s the bad news?”

“Both April Wright and DeLynn Vaughn could have been in New York City when Aurora was killed and Lindsay was attacked.”

“What do you mean they could have been?”

“April was visiting her sister in Bridgeport, Connecticut, an easy drive to New York City. And DeLynn was in Scranton, Pennsylvania, on a business trip. It would have been a longer drive, but doable.”

“Crap!”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“I just don’t see either April or DeLynn as a killer.”

“We could be barking up the wrong tree, you know. Checking to see if any of the reunion committee members were in New York when Aurora was killed was just a thought. It doesn’t prove anything that April and DeLynn both just happened to be within driving distance at the time.”