You Don't Want To Know - By Lisa Jackson Page 0,176
. . . ?” she repeated, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears as an image came to mind.
“Lester Reece.”
A little squeak of protest escaped her lips. The murderer? He was perfect little Noah’s father? “No!” No! No! NO! “That can’t be right. There must be some kind of mix-up, because there’s no way that a serial killer could be . . . No!” She didn’t realize she was shaking her head.
“You didn’t know this was a possibility?” Snyder asked.
“Of course not! How could . . . ?” She thought of Jewel-Anne with her smug little I’ve-got-a-secret smile. But . . . but Lester Reece? “I don’t believe it.”
“She and her family lived at Sea Cliff. Her father was the head administrator.”
“I know that!” she nearly screamed as her mind raced. Was it possible? No . . . oh, no!
“She spent time with the patients. Worked there, didn’t she? As an aide of some kind.”
Ava’s heart grew cold. Yes . . . she remembered Jewel-Anne talking about some of her chores at the hospital, how she’d gotten to know some of the patients. Still she couldn’t, wouldn’t believe this nonsense. Her voice was hard to find and she had to clear her throat. “Uncle Crispin would never allow anything like this to happen.” But Jewel-Anne had always been sneaky and rebellious and stubborn, even devious. For the love of St. Peter, could it be true? Though she wanted to deny, deny, deny it. How could she?
“You’d never considered the possibility?”
“No,” she finally whispered, and swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat and reminded herself that she could face anything—she just had to find her son. No matter what. Closing her eyes, hearing her heart drum denial in her ears, she took several deep breaths before opening her eyes again.
“Why? Why do you think he’s the . . . ?” She couldn’t even get the word over her tongue. Barely able to hold on to the shreds of her composure, she listened mutely as Detective Snyder explained further about the connection between Reece and Jewel-Anne. The police had connected the dots; they were confirming with others, including Piper and Crispin, who had been informed of their daughter’s violent death and were headed to Neptune’s Gate, a place Crispin had tried to avoid.
Ava listened to the detective’s theory, and though she wanted like hell not to believe it, the idea that Jewel-Anne had rebelled and fallen for Reece made a peculiar kind of sense. After all, someone had fathered Noah.
Ava answered all of the detective’s questions as best she could despite the fact that the headache building at the base of her skull had her head pounding. Denial was still a roar in her brain, as loud and bitter as a keening wind that carried with it a sharp little shard of truth. “You have to find him,” she told Snyder, suddenly desperate to face the monster. “Lester Reece. You have to find him!”
“We don’t even know if he’s alive.”
“But he has to be,” she insisted. “Don’t you see? He’s the one who kidnapped Noah!” Her voice was rising now, her desperation palpable. It all made sense. He’d come back for his boy! Even now he could have Noah locked away on the island!
“Of course . . . however, right now, though, we’re in the middle of a murder investigation,” he reminded her.
“But the killer? Couldn’t it be Lester Reece? He’s done it before and you think he’s on the island.”
“You think he killed the others?”
“I . . . I don’t know . . .” It didn’t make sense, but then what about murder did?
“You found Jewel-Anne’s body. You think Lester Reece would take the trouble to place dolls around your cousin? Slice and paint ’em up?”
Ava shook her head in mute bafflement. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“I heard that you found another doll,” he added carefully. “In a casket. Buried by the victim, kind of a way to get back at you.”
She gazed at him, aware of the dominoes starting to fall, the list of events and her own actions that made her look guilty. Standing, leaning across the desk, she said clearly and precisely, just so he got it, “I didn’t kill Jewel-Anne, Detective. Nor anyone else. I’m just trying to find my boy and I’ll swear to that on his life!”
CHAPTER 43
Feeling like a caged animal in the den with the rest of the Church family, Dern managed to hang on to his patience, but it took more