“The ring on his hand. It’s exactly like Philip’s.”
Gail flattened her palms on the desk and leaned toward Leah. “It’s a ring, Leah. Give me a break. There must be thousands just like it.
“Philip’s grandfather gave him that ring.”
“You’re stretching things, Leah. I mean, I think your ex-husband did bad things to you, but, really, you think he’d fake his death and then come back just to freak you out?”
“Yes, I do. I’m starting to think Philip had something to do with Deidre’s death as well.”
Gail shook her head, her eyes darkening with concern. “It’s a big stretch, Leah. In fact, I’m kinda worried about you.”
“I know what I’m talking about.”
“Do you have proof?”
“My credit card was skimmed, someone tried to move my furniture out of my house, and remember the anniversary flowers?”
“When’s the last time you saw this guy?”
She rubbed her palms together. The uneven skin of the scars brushed against each other. “It’s been four years.”
“And he suddenly just shows up with a different name and starts killing and shagging your friends.”
If Philip could hear this conversation, he’d be laughing. He loved knowing he could upset her. “But it all feels like Philip.”
“Philip. And my date’s name wasn’t Philip. It was Brian.”
“Brian what?”
She hesitated. “Lawrence.”
“Brian Lawrence? That’s the guy who dropped off Charlie. I called him and left him a message.”
“He explained that. Said his mother died. He said he was coming by to settle up the bill with you for Charlie.”
Settle up. Shit. That bastard was sending her a message.
“Just because it feels like Philip doesn’t mean it is Philip. Maybe you need to take a break.” Gail flattened her lips. “Leah, maybe you have PTSD or something?”
“This isn’t PTSD, Gail. I know what I’m talking about.”
Settle down.
“It’s not like I plan to date the guy. It was a fun night.”
Not really listening now, Leah glanced toward the couch at Charlie, who stared at her with sad eyes. The dog sensed her fear and agitation. Philip was coming for her, of that she was certain. “Could you keep Charlie tonight?”
“Why?”
“Like you said, my anniversary is tomorrow, and it would be better if she isn’t around me until I know for sure if this is Philip or not.”
Gail shook her head. “Nothing is going to happen.”
Unshed tears burned in her throat. She wasn’t crazy. She knew what she was talking about. “Will you take her?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks.”
Deke and Alex drove to Brian Lawrence’s address, an older home with brick front steps and a wide front porch. The yard appeared to have been kept up. The hedges were trimmed, and the front sidewalk looked as if it had been patched in the last year.
Alex climbed the front steps and rang the bell, which echoed in the house. He rang again and then pounded. No answer.
“I’ll have a look around back,” Deke said. “Give me a second.”
“Thanks.”
Deke trotted down the stairs and around the house and returned minutes later. “It’s locked up tight. But there’s no sign of anyone. Looks like he’s got a construction project going. There’s quite a bit of lumber stacked in the backyard.”
“Let’s talk to the neighbors.”
They knocked on three different doors before they got an answer. The woman was older, with graying hair and a lined face.
“Ma’am, we’re with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation and the Nashville Police Department. We’re looking for Brian Lawrence.”
She gathered the folds of her sweater at the nape of her neck in fragile, deeply veined hands. “I haven’t seen Brian in a few weeks.”
“Does he travel often?”
“Not this time of year. He owns a tow truck, and this is one of his busiest seasons. People are always getting stuck in the ice and snow. Dead batteries. I hate the cold, but he says he smells green when the temperature drops.”
“He drives a tow truck?”
“Well, the last couple of weeks it’s been his cousin driving the truck. He said Brian had to go home to visit their grandmother. She’s sick. And I think that’s just so sweet.”
“What’s his cousin’s name?”
She cocked her head for a second. “Funny, I don’t know. He must have said it when I introduced myself, but I didn’t catch it. Bob maybe?”
Alex showed her the cell picture. “Is this Brian’s cousin?” She smiled. “Face isn’t clear, but it must be. I recognize his ring.”
“Ring?”
“The one with the L on it. He said their grandfather gave one to him and one to his cousin.”
Deke and Alex thanked the woman and walked back to the car.
“Cousin.” Deke studied the house. “Brian Lawrence, the real one, was an army vet. Served with distinction and started a towing business. Has a solid reputation. He has no connection to Leah Carson that I could find. Who’s the cousin?”
“Care to make a bet? Philip Latimer. He’s back in town, and I would bet money he killed Brian and took over his identity.”
“If it is Latimer, why has he waited all this time to come after Leah? He’s had four years to kill her. Why now?”
“Stalkers can take breaks, but you’re right. That’s one of the puzzle pieces I haven’t placed yet. You check the DNA on the body found at the warehouse?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m having it cross-referenced to the body parts found by the river as we speak.”
“Good.” Everything pointed to Philip Latimer. Everything. And yet the puzzle was missing a key piece.
Deke studied his brother, reached in his pocket, and pulled out a fresh packet of crackers. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. I feel like a million bucks.”
Deke glowered. “Mom had a dry sense of humor like that. Drove Dad crazy.”
Alex unwrapped the crackers. “Dad liked the slapstick stuff. Falling-on-banana-peels kind of humor. But considering what he saw on the job, I can’t blame him.”
“Mom went for subtle humor. Slightly dark. Like you.”
Alex bit into the cracker, realizing just how hungry he was. “Since when did you become the mother hen?”
“Since you landed in the hospital with bruised ribs. I’ll go back to ignoring you in a day or two.”
Leah arrived home at two. Stressed and unable to concentrate, Dr. Nelson had given her the afternoon off. She had texted Alex a couple of times but hadn’t heard back from him and knew she was on her own. Her skin itched with worry and dark anticipation.
Again, she considered stuffing a bag full of clothes and running. Dr. Nelson would give her some time if she explained. Just a few days to buy time.
Time.
Laying low might chase away some of the biting energy that nipped at her now, but it wouldn’t solve the problem of Philip in the long run.
Philip would find her, and she had no desire to prolong this evil dance. Better to stay. Face the demon. And if he didn’t appear? Or if he were a figment of her imagination? Then she’d begin the long wait until this time next year.
Inside her town house, bright lights waited for her. She shrugged off her coat, dropped her purse on the table by the front door, and hung up the coat. She crossed to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Coffee this late in the day would rob her of all sleep, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
Remembering the listening device in the living room, she switched on soft music. She checked all the closets in her town house and under her bed. When she was certain they were all empty, she returned to the front door, double-checked the chain, and then checked every window. All locked. Satisfied, she moved into her bedroom and stripped off her work clothes. She turned on the shower, pinned up her hair, and, when the water was hot, stepped into the spray. The heat felt good against her skin, but she didn’t dare linger in the shower. She quickly dressed and moved into the kitchen for her coffee. As she reached for a mug, her front doorbell rang.