Брайан Фриман - Alter Ego

Cab tilted his face to the sky as if pondering the idea. He looked back over his shoulder at the perfect water of the Gulf, and then a grin crept across his face. “Duluth in January,” he said. “Well, who could resist an invitation like that?”

Serena recognized the red Toyota Yaris that was parked outside Aimee’s rental house on Thirteenth Street. Lori Fulkerson was there.

The woman stood at Aimee’s front door, where she’d tramped across the beaten-down snow. She turned around in surprise when she saw Serena and Guppo marching toward her, and her surprise turned to wide-eyed fear when several other police cars arrived at the same time. She looked like a rabbit, ready to run.

“What’s going on?” Lori asked.

“We’re looking for Aimee Bowe, Ms. Fulkerson. Have you seen her?”

“No, I just knocked on the door. There was no answer.”

“Have you been here long?” Serena asked.

“Just a couple of minutes.”

Serena checked her watch and studied the empty street around them. “It’s pretty late to be paying a visit, Ms. Fulkerson. Why are you here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I needed to talk to her.”

“About what?”

“To be honest, Aimee seems like the only person who has ever understood me. It’s the strangest sensation, like I can feel her inside my head. Like we’re connected.” Lori crossed her arms over her chest in the cold. “I don’t like it.”

“Did you tell her you were coming over?”

Lori shook her head. “No. I just got in my car and drove.”

“Did you see anyone coming or going as you arrived?”

“Nobody.”

“Okay, why don’t you go back home now,” Serena told her.

“Is everything all right? Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

Lori looked at the faces of the police officers. Then she wandered into the snow and headed back toward her car. She got into the Yaris, but Serena noticed that she didn’t drive away. Lori stayed there, watching the activity outside the house.

Serena pounded on the front door. “Aimee! Aimee, are you there?”

There was no answer.

“She could be unconscious,” Guppo said. “If she was drugged, she might not hear us.”

Serena was about to put her shoulder to the flimsy door when she remembered Aimee’s comment that half the locks in the old house didn’t work. She turned the doorknob, and the front door opened with a squeal of its hinges. The interior was dark and cold.

“Aimee,” she called again. “It’s Serena.”

Still no answer.

She walked into the living room with Guppo beside her. A narrow corridor led to the bedrooms, and they checked each one, expecting to find Aimee sprawled on the bed or the floor. The actress wasn’t there. Serena checked the two bathrooms, but they were empty.

They did a search of the rest of the house, which didn’t take long. It was obvious that Aimee had never made it home. Serena continued to the rear porch, which had a view out onto the dark mass of Lake Superior. Frost coated the windows, and wind whistled through a seam in one of the frames. It sounded like the cry of a witch. She was hoping she’d find Aimee stretched out on a wicker sofa under a blanket, but no one was there.

“Is Jungle Jack back at Casperson’s house yet?” she asked Guppo.

“As of two minutes ago, no.”

“Where did the son of a bitch take her if it wasn’t here? Get a car over to the apartment Jack’s renting in Hermantown. I want to make sure he didn’t decide to finish what Dean Casperson started.”

Guppo nodded. “I’ll make the call.”

The sergeant turned around and left the house, leaving Serena alone.

Serena stood on the back porch, thinking about Aimee Bowe. There was something odd about her, and she had no idea how to explain it. It wasn’t rational, and Serena believed only in rational things. She thought about the story Stride had told her about Aimee and Cat. Save me . It was so unbelievable that Cat hadn’t even wanted to tell her about it, because she knew Serena would tell her it wasn’t real.

And now Lori Fulkerson.

It’s the strangest sensation, like I can feel her inside my head. Like we’re connected.

Not rational.

Serena closed her eyes. She tried to open her mind, as if she could feel a connection with Aimee simply by being there. Aimee’s presence was in this house. A hint of her perfume floated over the cold. Serena listened to the wind and thought: Where are you? Tell me.

Aimee didn’t answer, because things like that weren’t possible. Serena felt silly for even having considered it. What mattered was evidence you could feel, touch, taste, hear, and see.

She went back out the front door. Guppo was waiting for her. Lori Fulkerson finally had driven away.

“Have we found Jungle Jack?” Serena asked.

“The uniform at Casperson’s place just checked in. Jack’s back. That means he didn’t have time to go to Hermantown.”

“So where is Aimee Bowe?”

“Jack says he dropped her here,” Guppo told her.

Temper flared on Serena’s face, which wasn’t like her. “Well, she is not here .”

“I know, Serena,” Guppo replied quietly.

She shook her head at her outburst and turned her anger back on herself. She felt like this entire case had a wall around it that they couldn’t break through. “I’m sorry, Max. Call the officer back and get Jungle Jack on the phone. I want to talk to him myself.”

“You got it.”

Serena stamped through the snow into the middle of the yard. She shivered in the wind and studied the house and grounds from a distance. Footprints were everywhere, overlapping. They told her nothing. Some went around the house; some crossed the yard diagonally; some went downhill toward Skyline Parkway. Most probably had been made by kids.

Then she remembered what Aimee had said about someone breaking into the house. Whoever it was didn’t just look through the windows. He came inside, too.

What if he was waiting for her when she got home?

Who?

There was no sign of a struggle, but in Aimee’s condition, she wouldn’t have been able to put up a fight. Except there was almost no time between Jungle Jack leaving and Lori Fulkerson arriving for anyone to kidnap Aimee.

She saw Guppo hustling toward her through the snow. He gave her his phone and said simply, “Jack.”

“Mr. Jensen,” Serena barked into the phone. “This is Serena Stride with the Duluth Police. We’re at the house that Aimee Bowe is renting, and she’s not here. Where is she?”

There was a long pause on the line. “I don’t know what to tell you, Detective. I was there less than twenty minutes ago. I dropped her off.”

“Describe the house,” Serena said.

“Blue, single story, way up on the hill.”

Serena nodded. The description was right. “What exactly happened when you got here with Aimee?”

“She got out of the car. She headed for the front door. I left. End of story.”

“What was her physical condition?” Serena asked.

“She said she was fine. I mean, she was wobbly and all, but I figured she’d simply had too much to drink.”

“Did you get out of the car yourself? Did you help her?”

“She didn’t want any help,” Jack replied. “You may find this hard to believe, but Aimee Bowe doesn’t exactly like me. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of my driving her home. She told me to go.”

“Did you wait until she got inside the door?”

“No, I just left.”

Serena shook her head in frustration. “Were there any other cars on the street?”

“I don’t remember any, but I wasn’t paying attention.”