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The Last Move

Page 53

   


Kate stifled a yawn. “I could use more sleep. I’m still running a deficit.”
“Go on. I put clean sheets on the bed when I saw you on television.”
“You were so sure I’d visit.”
“I hoped.” Her mother kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Kate rose and walked back to her room. She pulled the comforter back; the scent of laundry soap rose up from the sheets, and it reminded her of her childhood. She checked each of her three windows to make sure they were locked and secured. Only then did she lie down and shut off her light. Moonlight cut across the white ceiling and the pencil drawing of a horse her father had done for her when she was six and afraid of the dark.
Tears filled her eyes and slid down the sides of her face. It was good being home.
The shrill sound of Kate’s phone yanked her from a restless slumber. She glanced at her phone. The display read BLOCKED. It was 4:59 a.m. She hesitated, then clearing her throat, answered the call. “Dr. Hayden.”
“Katie.”
Half awake, the soft-spoken voice didn’t register immediately. “Who is this?”
“You don’t know?”
A familiarity in the speaker’s tone sent an uneasy tremor up her spine. “Who is this?”
“This is William.”
She sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Her heart raced into high gear, pounding against her chest. “How did you get this number?”
“Don’t you remember how good I am with computers, Katie? It’s easy.”
“I remember. Where are you?” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and moved to her briefcase. She dug out a minirecorder, clicked it on, and held it close to the receiver.
“I’m traveling. My housekeeper told me you came by. Why did you come to see me, Katie? Did you miss me?”
Katie. It was the nickname reserved for her family, and for the few months they’d dated, she’d allowed him to use it. “It’s Dr. Hayden.”
He chuckled. “You were always Katie to me.”
“That was before you shot me and killed my father.”
“I was terribly sick in those days. I know the way I stalked you wasn’t right. I was having trouble with my medications. I paid the price.”
“My father is still dead.”
Silence crackled. “I sent flowers to his memorial service. I wrote that I was sorry in the card.”
The memorial service had been delayed three weeks so Kate could heal. Seventeen years had done nothing to temper her pain. The thought of reliving it now with him made her sick.
William had been a master manipulator when they’d played chess. He would set traps, try to get in her head, anything to dominate her. Not now. Not ever again.
“I want to talk to you about Gloria Sanchez,” she said.
“Gloria and I were old friends. Why are we talking about Gloria?”
Of course, he knew the answer. This was another layer to the game. “She was shot and killed off of I-35 near San Antonio.”
“That’s terrible. But I don’t know anything about that.” He sounded almost coy.
Her gaze steady, she was barely breathing. “It’s been all over the news.”
“I’ve always thought so much of you, so I guess I’ll believe you.”
“Did you shoot her?”
“Why would I kill Gloria?”
He’d not said her or that woman, but he’d said Gloria in a way hinting of familiarity. She pressed, “Did she do something that made you angry? What was it about her that drove you to shoot her?”
“Sounds like you’ve already made your mind up about me.” He didn’t sound upset but amused.
“Gloria’s mother worked for your father.”
He was silent for a moment. “Really? I don’t remember.”
His tone had shifted, suggesting she might have hit a nerve. “You remember everything. You and Nina were close.”
“I don’t remember.”
That was a lie, but for her to challenge him would ensnare her in an endless loop of accusations and denial. “You enjoy manipulating people.”
He chuckled. “You have a harsh view of me. But there was a time when you loved me. I still remember the feel of your naked breast in my hand.”
She wouldn’t allow rage or regret to overwhelm her. “How long had Nina been with your family when you were born?”
“Why do you keep asking about Nina?” His voice was soft, curious. “She’s tucked away safe and sound.”
“Did Gloria tell you about Nina? Did she tell you she paid for five years’ worth of care in advance?”
He chuckled. “My goodness, you have been digging. That’s what I like about you. You’re smart, disciplined, but most of all, you’re persistent. And no beating around the bush. You get right to the point.”
“Why Gloria?” It was important to stay focused. “Why shoot a woman you’ve known since you were a child?”
“What are your theories?”
“I never saw you two together when we were younger. She was married by then. But I remember Nina talking about her daughter. She was so proud of her. Nina was also good to you. I remember how fond you were of her.”
“Was I?”
She gripped the phone. He was evading her questions, knowing he was frustrating her. She tamped down her rising temper. “There was another murder.”
“Another one? Terrible. Is a pattern emerging, Katie, or are you paranoid?”
Rebecca Kendrick’s name had not been released to the media, and she wouldn’t discuss the case details with him now. “Did you kill this second woman?”
“That’s a riddle you’re going to have to solve. I just wanted you to know I received your message. You look beautiful, by the way. Television suits you. Your mother must be so proud. She looks good, by the way.”
She swallowed anger and fear and resisted the urge to tell the monster to leave her mother alone. “We need to meet.”
He chuckled. “I doubt that would be wise now. I’ve no doubt Detective Mazur will be tagging along.”
He was paying very close attention if he knew about Mazur. She glanced around the room almost as if she expected to see him standing there.
“I’ll call again soon. I like talking to you, Katie. I’ve missed you.”
The line went dead.
For a long moment she sat there, her heart racing in her chest. Her hands trembled. She glanced at the clock. It read 5:01 a.m. The call had lasted less than two minutes. Not long enough to trace or track. William was always thinking. But his tone suggested arrogance, as if he knew how this contest would end. Good. Let him overplay his hand.
Kate dialed Mazur. He picked up on the third ring, and when he barked his name into the phone, his voice was heavy and rough. No need to ask him if she’d awakened him. She had.
“I received a call from William Bauldry,” she said.
“Kate.” He cleared his throat. “When did he call?”
“Minutes ago. I taped the call.”
“And?”
“I asked him directly about the murders. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer. Did he or didn’t he kill those women? It’s a riddle as far as he’s concerned.”
She heard a light click on. “Do you think he did it?”
“Yes. He could have denied it, but he didn’t. My accusations amused him.”