Tess Gerritsen - Body Double

“And the wife?”

“Bonnie was a different story.” Rizzoli stared down at Van Gates, at the dyed tufts of transplanted hair, symbols of an old man’s vanity. “I think Bonnie walked in on them. She comes into the kitchen and sees the blood. Sees her husband sitting here on the floor, his neck almost severed. The killer’s in here too, still holding the knife. The air conditioner’s going, and all the windows are shut tight. Double-paned, for insulation. So our team parked down the street, they wouldn’t hear her screams. If she even managed to scream.”

Rizzoli turned to look at the doorway leading to the hall. Paused as though she saw the dead woman herself standing there.

“She sees the killer coming at her. But unlike her husband, she fights back. All she can do, as that knife comes at her, is grab it by the blade. It cuts right into the palm of her hand, through skin, tendons, all the way to bone. It slices so deep the artery’s severed.”

Rizzoli pointed through the doorway, at the hallway beyond. “She runs that way, her hand spurting blood. He’s right behind her, and corners her in the living room. Even then she fights back, tries to fend off the blade with her arms. But he makes one more cut, across her throat. Not as deep as the incision in her husband’s neck, but it’s deep enough.” Rizzoli looked at Maura. “She was alive when we found her. That’s how close we came.”

Maura stared down at Terence Van Gates, slumped against the cabinet. She thought of the little house in the woods where two cousins had formed their poisonous bond. A bond that endures even now.

“You remember what Amalthea said to you, the first day you went to visit her?” said Rizzoli.

Maura nodded. Now you’re going to die, too.

“We both thought it was just psychotic rambling,” said Rizzoli. She looked down at Van Gates. “It seems pretty clear now that it was a warning. A threat.”

“Why? I don’t know any more than you do.”

“Maybe it’s because of who you are, Doc. Amalthea’s daughter.”

An icy wind swept up Maura’s spine. “My father,” she said softly. “If I really am her daughter, then who is my father?”

Rizzoli didn’t say Elijah Lank’s name; she didn’t need to.

“You’re the living proof of their partnership,” said Rizzoli. “Half your DNA is his.”

She locked her front door and turned the dead bolt. Paused there, thinking of Anna and all the brass bolts and chains that had adorned the little house in Maine. I’m turning into my sister, she thought. Soon I’ll be cowering behind barricades, or fleeing my own home for a new city, a new identity.

Headlights trailed across the closed curtains of her living room. She glanced out and saw a police cruiser glide by. Not Brookline this time, but a patrol car with BOSTON POLICE DEPARTMENT emblazoned on the side. Rizzoli must have requested it, she thought.

She went into the kitchen and mixed herself a drink. Nothing fussy tonight, not her usual cosmopolitan, just orange juice and vodka and ice. She sat at the kitchen table and sipped it, ice cubes rattling in her glass. Drinking alone; not a good sign, but what the hell. She needed the anesthesia, needed to stop thinking of what she’d seen tonight. The air conditioner hissed its cool breath from the ceiling. No open windows tonight; everything was locked and secure. The cold glass chilled her fingers. She set it down and looked at her palm, at the pale blush of capillaries. Does their blood run in my veins?

The doorbell rang.

Her head snapped up; she turned toward the living room, her heart beating a quickstep, every muscle in her body rigid. Slowly she rose to her feet and moved soundlessly down the hall to the front door. Paused there, wondering how easily a bullet might penetrate that wood. She eased toward the side window and glanced out to see Ballard standing on her porch.

With a sigh of relief, she opened the door.

“I heard about Van Gates,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“A little shaken up. But I’m fine.” No I’m not. My nerves are shot, and I’m drinking alone in my kitchen. “Why don’t you come in?”

He had never been inside her house. He stepped in, closed the door, and eyed the dead bolt as he locked it. “You need to get a security system, Maura.”

“I’ve been planning to.”

“Do it soon, okay?” He looked at her. “I can help you choose the best one.”

She nodded. “I’d appreciate the advice. Would you like a drink?”

“Not tonight, thanks.”

They went into the living room. He paused, looking at the piano in the corner. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Since I was a kid. I don’t practice nearly enough.”

“You know, Anna played too…” He stopped. “I guess you might not know that.”

“I didn’t know that. It’s so eerie, Rick, how every time I learn something new about her, she seems more and more like me.”

“She played beautifully.” He went to the piano, lifted the keyboard cover, and plunked out a few notes. Closed the cover again, and stood staring down at the gleaming black surface. He looked at her. “I’m worried about you, Maura. Especially tonight, after what happened to Van Gates.”

She sighed and sank onto the couch. “I’ve lost control of my life. I can’t even sleep with my windows open anymore.”

He sat down, too. Chose the chair facing her, so that if she raised her head, she would have to look at him. “I don’t think you should be alone here tonight.”

“This is my house. I’m not going to leave.”

“Then don’t leave.” A pause. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

Her gaze lifted to his. “Why are you doing this, Rick?”

“Because I think you need watching over.”

“And you’re the one to do it?”

“Who else is going to? Look at you! You live such a solitary life, all by yourself in this house. I think about you alone here, and it scares me, what could happen. When Anna needed me, I wasn’t there. But I can be here for you.” He reached out and took her hands. “I can be here whenever you need me.”

She looked down at his hands, covering hers. “You loved her, didn’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she looked up and met his gaze. “Didn’t you, Rick?”

“She needed me.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I couldn’t stand by and let her get hurt. Not by that man.”

I should have seen it from the beginning, she thought. It was always there, in the way he looked at me, the way he touched me.

“If you’d seen her that night, in the ER,” he said. “The black eye, the bruises. I took one look at her face, and I wanted to beat the shit out of whoever did it. There aren’t many things that’ll make me lose it, Maura, but any man who hurts a woman-” He took a sharp breath. “I wasn’t going to let that happen to her again. But Cassell wouldn’t let go. He kept calling her, stalking her, so I had to step in. I helped her install some locks. Started dropping by every day, to check on her. Then one night, she asked me to stay for dinner, and…” He gave a defeated shrug. “That’s how it started. She was scared, and she needed me. It’s instinct, you know. Maybe a cop’s instinct. You want to protect.”

Especially when she’s an attractive woman.

“I tried to keep her safe, that’s all.” He looked at her. “So, yes. I ended up falling in love with her.”

“And what is this, Rick?” She looked at his hands, still grasping hers. “What’s happening here? Is this for me, or for her? Because I’m not Anna. I’m not her replacement.”

“I’m here because you need me.”

“This is like a replay. You’ve cast yourself in the same role, as the guardian. And I’m just the understudy who happened to step into Anna’s part.”