Eighteen years ago
His hands shook. Seth stopped and held them out in front of him, palms down. Definite shakes. They looked like he’d been drinking for hours; he felt like he’d been drinking for hours, but was experiencing only the bad effects, not the good. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, continuing down the sidewalk, pushing through the rain. It wasn’t cold outside, but damn, he couldn’t get warm. He wanted to vomit.
A night of tossing and turning and stressing and thinking had left him exhausted. He’d skipped his classes today, unable to focus. The rest of the day wasn’t going to get better. He’d asked Tori to meet him at the coffee shop, the same place he’d first approached her eight months ago. Eight months. It’d been a whirlwind. His senior year had sped by with top grades and a gorgeous, smart girl on his arm. He’d been accepted to the Stanford School of Medicine, and Tori planned to follow in a few years. They knew the path was going to be hard and lean, but they were excited to do it together.
But a wrench had just shattered their plans, and he had to tell Tori today.
Just tell her. Tell her and be done with it. You have no choice.
Some people would say he had a choice. He didn’t have to do what he was about to do. But Seth knew if he ever wanted to look himself in the eye, he had to make the right choice. His life wasn’t the only one at stake. There was an innocent involved and he had an obligation.
He would be a better man than his father. His sperm donor.
That was the type of man Seth would never be. His father had walked out on him when he was two, leaving Seth’s mother with no means of support. Seth’s biological father was the perfect model of the deadbeat dad. No courts hunted down child support. If they had, it would have been impossible to squeeze money out of a man with none. Growing up, Seth had lied to his friends, saying his father had died when he was an infant. His father never turned up to prove him wrong. He’d spent a few sleepless nights, worrying he’d be caught in the lie, but it never happened. His mother didn’t remarry. She’d been crushed by her husband’s deception. Her life became a stereotype of depression and alcohol, and she decided she couldn’t handle a teenager.
Seth went to live with his mother’s brother, whom he’d never met. Dave was single. He’d grudgingly taken the boy, angry at Seth’s father for abandoning and mentally destroying his sister.
“Your mother was always a little soft,” he’d told Seth when they met. “I knew nothing good was going to come out of her shacking up with that asshole father of yours. But now here you are. Let’s see if we can make a man out of you.”
For a man with no children, Dave knew how to parent. Tough love, hard work, and responsibility were daily constants in Seth’s new life. Coming from a childhood with no guidelines, Seth flourished under Dave’s rules. They had their fights, of course, but Seth had always ached for attention from an adult, and Dave filled that need. Seth’s previous life had been spent tiptoeing around his mother, avoiding tripping her triggers for depression or anger.
Seth thrived. And grew to recognize the type of person his father had been. Dave was his father’s opposite. Dave was involved. Dave gave a shit about Seth’s life. Dave taught him to focus his excess energy into swimming, running, and hunting. Now, Seth no longer bounced off the walls at home and school; he could concentrate. And it turned out he was smart. Smart enough to breeze through high school and collect great grades. Smart enough to be accepted to Stanford and smart enough to appreciate what Dave had done in his life.
Yesterday a new path had opened up before him. His chance to make the difference in the life of a child who needed him. Like Dave had done for him. But the decision was going to hurt Victoria.
Seth stopped in front of the shop, staring at the door. She was inside, waiting for him to turn her life upside down. But Victoria was strong, he repeated in his head for the millionth time. Victoria wasn’t his mother. Victoria had the tools to continue and create a success with her life.
He sucked in a shuddering breath and opened the door. Warm coffee-scented air breezed over his face and he scanned the shop, his heart thudding in his chest.
There she was.
Beautiful. Elegant. His gaze rested on her face as she studied the text on her table. Just like she’d been doing the first time he’d built up the courage to approach her. Indecision washed over him. Was he making a mistake?
As if she’d felt him watching, Tori glanced up. A warm smile filled her face and her eyes danced at the sight of him. Seth felt ill.
It’s a mistake. I can’t do it.
He’d called Dave in the middle of the night, wrestling with his decision. Dave had sympathized and slowly walked him through what he already knew. He’d never be able to live with himself or be a complete person for Tori if he followed in his father’s footsteps. He wouldn’t abandon his responsibilities. He gave Tori a weak smile and brushed the rain off his shoulders, moving toward her table.
How was she going to handle this?
Seth took her breath away. Victoria stared at the figure who’d just stepped through the door. He wore the slow half smile that always made her heart flip over. His gaze met hers and his smile grew wider. Then faltered.
She ran a nervous hand over her hair, her own smile weakening.
He brushed the rain off his jacket and moved across the room toward her, working his way between tables in the small shop. She watched him come, admiring the way he pulled the attention of every female in the room. He didn’t do anything on purpose; he was just one of those types of guys. He was athletic and casual. Perhaps the fact that he didn’t care about how he looked to other women was what drew their eyes. Victoria immediately discarded the thought. No, she’d simply hooked a hottie. A smart, caring hottie. His looks really didn’t matter that much to her. What impressed her was inside, his strength of character, his kindness to everyone around him.
She studied him carefully. He’d been sick last night and bailed on their plans to take in a movie. She’d gone with two girlfriends, but had keenly felt his absence. This morning, he looked pale and his eyes were definitely red. Hopefully whatever bug he suffered from wasn’t contagious. She pushed her book out of the way and took a sip of coffee, noticing that her hands quivered.
Something was wrong.
He wasn’t looking at her. Usually Seth was one big smile and flirting blue eyes. Now, his gaze was on the floor and the sides of his mouth were down. Maybe they should have met at his apartment if he was still sick. He stopped at her table, met her gaze, and Victoria’s stomach sank.
Oh Lord. “What happened?” she whispered. Her fingers turned to ice.
He slumped down in a chair and looked at her, defeat showing in his face.
“Are you okay? Do you need to go back home?” The words tumbled out of her mouth. A tornado of disconnect spun through her chest, making it hard to breathe. She’d never seen Seth look so miserable. He leaned forward, grasped her hands and pulled them across the table, gripping tightly.
“We need to talk.”
Were there any worse words from your boyfriend’s mouth? The phrase triggered Victoria’s inner walls to rise, protecting and guarding her heart, and her brain shifted into an eerie calm. Every physical and emotional defense in her body shot into high gear. It’s bad. Her icy hands clenched into fists inside his grip.
A woman knows. She didn’t have to experience a breakup to know one was about to happen. Seth’s eyes pleaded with her to listen, his hands squeezing hers. Victoria was in listening mode, but that didn’t mean she was in understanding mode.
“What happened?” she asked again.
“Remember Jennifer?” Seth asked.
Victoria nodded, her gut clenching, acid burning. Jennifer was Seth’s old girlfriend from home in Arizona. She’d cheated on him, they’d broken up, and she’d had a baby with her new boyfriend. The woman had moved on quickly. Victoria knew he’d been stung over the cheating and the fast move to another man.
“You knew she had that baby girl?”
Victoria nodded, unease creeping up her spine. A shrill voice inside her head started to scream. No, Seth, no! The baby had been born about a month after Victoria and Seth had gotten together.
“The baby is mine. I didn’t know. She always swore it was Pete’s. He finally had a paternity test, and Eden isn’t his daughter. They’ve broken up and now she says Eden is mine.” His eyes pleaded with her, begging her not to judge him.
Victoria breathed out a sigh of relief, stress flooding out of her body. “She’s lying. Of course she says it’s your baby, but that doesn’t mean that it is! We’ll get you tested and prove that she’s lying to you just like she lied to the other guy.” The words rushed out of her mouth.
A false alarm.
Seth was shaking his head. “No, I already had a test done. She told me last week, and I immediately thought the same as you. I laughed it off and went to have my blood drawn here in town. Her doctor called me with the results last night.” He crushed her fingers. “I haven’t slept since she called; I’ve had to figure out what to do.”
Victoria tried to pull her hands away. “What do you mean, what to do? You don’t have to do anything. She dumped you. She chose another guy over you. Why do you need to fix this?” Clanging bells pealed in Victoria’s brain.
This isn’t happening.
“You don’t understand. I can’t abandon the baby. We need to be together to raise her.”
The pounding sounds in her head escalated. “You don’t have to abandon the baby. You can be there for the baby. You might be the biological father, but Jennifer ruined any relationship the two of you could have together,” Victoria whispered. “She cut the ties. Why start again with her?”
“She wants me in the baby’s life.”
“Of course she does. You’re the money. You can support them. She’s panicked because this other guy has left her and now she doesn’t know where to turn. You’re a great guy. Any woman is going to want you to be the father of her baby!” Her voice rose and people turned to stare, but she didn’t care. She could feel Seth slipping from her and she had to stop it. Her inner foundation rocked, crumbling.
Misery radiated from his face. “Tori, I’ve made up my mind. I told you what my father did to my mother and me. I can’t do that to a child.”
“But Seth—”
“I told you, I have to do this. It’s the right thing to do. I won’t let a kid grow up wondering why her father isn’t with her.”
“You can still be a part of this child’s life—”
“No. I have to be there. I never had a man in my life until my uncle came along. I’ve told you the difference he made for me growing up. I can do that for my daughter. Eden is my daughter.” Amazement touched his eyes as he said the words. “I have a daughter, Tori, and the most important thing is that she grows up feeling loved and wanted. I can provide that.”
“But what about Jennifer?”
“We can make it work. We did once.”
Every connection between them snapped in half, stinging Victoria. “You’re dumping me for a woman who left you? Who cheated on you? What about medical school?”
“I’m applying to the University of Arizona.”
“That’s not Stanford. It won’t be the same,” Victoria argued.
“It doesn’t matter. I can go to medical school and Jennifer can still be near her family, who will help us raise the baby.”
What about me? What about us? Victoria shrieked in her head. She stared at Seth. She couldn’t say the words out loud. What weight did an eight-month relationship have versus a baby? And Seth’s issues about his father’s history were heavy on his mind. They always had been.
He’s leaving you. He’s walking out on you. Exactly what Jennifer did to him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re choosing an unknown over everything we’ve planned together.” She grasped at straws. The look on his face said there was no changing his mind.
“School gets out in six weeks. I’m going back to Arizona for good,” he stated.
Victoria stared at him. His eyes were dead. The life and love that usually shone from them had vanished. How had he changed overnight? Was this the true Seth?
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
“How am I not to see you when you’re a TA in my class?”
He winced. “I’ve asked the professor if it’s okay if I’m not present for lectures. I’ll be working out of his office more.”
He’s already made plans how to avoid me.
Her shoulders slumped under the colossal weight. Seth had already emotionally disconnected from her and made the necessary plans to cut her from his life. Her stomach heaved and she swallowed hard. She could cry. She could break down right here in public and make a scene. She wasn’t that type of woman. If this man no longer wanted to be with her, she was going to let him go. She wasn’t going to humble herself as a ploy to keep him from his daughter.
“Why here?” she whispered. “Why did you have to do it in public?”
He shifted in his seat, guilt flooding his face. “I couldn’t do it at one of our places. If we were alone and things got too emotional, I was afraid…”
He was afraid they’d end up in bed.
Their sex life was good. There was no getting around it. Lying in bed with Seth on a rainy afternoon was heaven. They’d spent hours talking and making love. He’d been her first and had opened a whole new world of intimacy and sharing for her. In the beginning, it’d simply been explosive and exciting, but it’d grown into a tender, loving experience.
And now it was over. No more.
If she could get him in bed, maybe…
She rejected the thought; she wasn’t a manipulator. She wasn’t that kind of woman and she wasn’t about to start. She was strong. Seth was done with Seth and Victoria. And her logical brain screamed at her to accept it.
She stood up, shoved her books into her backpack, and pushed in her chair. Slinging her pack over one shoulder, she stared Seth in the eye. “I loved you. I loved you a lot and was committed to the future we’d planned together. Good-bye, Seth.” She strode out of the coffee shop with her chin up and her heart in pieces on the floor.
Never again.
Seth noticed Lorenzo Cavallo had managed to rake his leaves in his yard before he died. Lorenzo’s home looked like every other small Portland home from the fifties. The entire street had one-story white homes with single-car garages. Only the yards were marginally different. Some with bushes, some with trees, some with nothing. A shiny classic Chevrolet stood visible in Lorenzo’s garage. Someone had opened the garage door and the vehicle gleamed against the dreariness of the wet day.
The clouds had been high and gray during Seth’s commute to the office. Enough to make him wonder if the day would actually be dry. But his hopes were dashed as black clouds rolled in. Dr. Campbell had assigned him to visit the Cavallo death, doling out assignments among his deputy examiners and himself. It’d been less than a week, and Seth felt like he belonged in the Portland office. His working interview time was almost up. If he was offered the job, he was taking it. No question. He liked Portland. It was quirky, and the ME’s office ran like a smoothly oiled machine.
A uniform held a log out to him at the front door. He signed and slipped on a pair of sanitary booties, studying the young officer out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t look green or ashen, so hopefully the scene wasn’t a bad one. Detectives Callahan and Lusco had already signed the log. It didn’t feel like ten hours had passed since he’d parted from Callahan at the bar.
Seth moved down the narrow hall of the house toward the voices in the kitchen. He smelled the familiar odor of death. The coppery scent of blood and the stench of released bowels. A wave of sadness washed through him as he stepped into the kitchen and examined the body on the floor.
Lorenzo Cavallo was covered in blood from head to toe. He wore what Seth thought of as old-man underwear. The white stretchy tank top and baggy white undershorts. Neither had been truly white in a long time; instead they were a bad yellowing cream color. Browning blood stained Lorenzo’s silver hair. Detectives Callahan and Lusco leaned against a counter in the tiny kitchen. A female uniformed cop nodded at Seth, and a crime scene tech snapped scene photos.
“Morning, doctor,” Callahan greeted him. “Welcome to the party.” His grim expression belied his words.
“Morning,” Seth answered.
“As soon as you can get us a time of death, we’d appreciate it,” Lusco added.
Portland was no different from Sacramento. The cops always wanted that fact first.
Seth stepped over to the corpse, carefully avoiding the blood, and squatted down. Now closer, he could see the tears from a knife through the old man’s shirt. And a spot at his temple that looked… sunken. Seth scanned his surroundings, looking for a baseball bat or similar weapon. Callahan noticed his gaze.
“Whatever he was stabbed and hit with, the killer took with him,” Callahan stated.
“Can you get a picture right here?” Seth asked the photographer as he pointed to a spot just below the ribs on the right side of the body. The old man’s tank was ripped wide open as if it’d been prepared for Seth to take his liver temperature. The tech snapped a shot, and Seth made a half-inch slit with his scalpel and slid a thermometer in four inches. He waited and the tech took a shot of the inserted thermometer. Looking around, he noticed Lusco watching in fascination along with the female cop, but Callahan seemed focused on making notes in his pad.
“We just talked with him yesterday,” Lusco offered.
“What for?” asked Seth.
“He came in to offer a lead on the old Forest Park case. He thought his sister might be one of the victims,” said Lusco.
Seth looked at the body. The old man had been brutalized. Did someone not like him talking to the police? “You think it was related to the killings from the other night?”
“Don’t know,” stated Lusco.
“A neighbor was walking by about seven this morning and noticed his door was wide open,” Callahan added. “She came up to the door, rang the bell, yelled his name, and finally entered the house when no one answered. She immediately backed out when she saw he was dead and called nine-one-one.”
Seth didn’t ask why the neighbor didn’t physically check to see if Lorenzo was dead. It was obvious. This was a case of overkill. Seth saw multiple blows to the head and too many stab wounds to count. Any of them could be the cause of death.
Seth took a long look at the furnishings of the little kitchen. “He lived alone?”
“His wife died six years ago,” stated the female cop.
“Yesterday in our interview, he didn’t mention that. He talked about his life as if his wife was still alive,” Lusco said. “We haven’t been able to get ahold of any family yet, and the neighbors don’t seem to know anything about his sons. I’m a bit surprised. He acted like they were all very close.”
Callahan nodded in agreement.
The home showed the touch of a woman, but of a woman who hadn’t been around in a long time. The floral prints of the sofa were faded, the picture frames showcased thick dust, and the ashtray overflowed. The house was utterly quiet. It had an aura of waiting for someone. Maybe waiting for the grandkids to pay an overdue visit. Or waiting for the female heart of the house to return.
“I still have guys questioning the neighbors,” said the female cop.
Seth took a closer look at the policewoman. Her badge was Portland Police Department and read Goode. Callahan and Lusco were with the state police. There were some police politics at work here. No doubt this had been Portland’s crime scene and investigation until someone had discovered the victim had been interviewed by the state police. Goode was keeping her hand firmly on the scene, but allowing state to have its look.
Seth knew from experience that most local departments didn’t care to have a different agency step in to lend a hand or take over a case, whether it was the FBI or a state police agency. Callahan had told him that the Forest Park teenage girls’ case had been turned over to OSP, but it’d mainly been a matter of timing. The Portland Police Department was recently overwhelmed with a gang war that had consumed their local resources. OSP didn’t have the gang expertise that Portland did. But they knew murder.
Seth’s gaze went back to the small plate of ashes on the tiny table in the corner of the kitchen. He sniffed at the body. The usual overwhelming odor of a smoker didn’t emerge from the body. “Did you find cigarettes in the home?”
“No. I looked for those,” Goode answered. “No cigarettes in the cupboards or drawers of the kitchen. Bedside table drawer is empty. That’s a dish from an old china set in the cupboard, not an ashtray. A smoker would have several ashtrays in the house.”
Callahan walked over to the ashtray on the table. Seth noticed it didn’t have butts left in the pile of ash. Who removes the butts? Goode was right; it wasn’t an ashtray. It was a thin china saucer with a bit of worn gold trim on the edges.