An unexpected stirring shot through him at the thought of Melissa having another child to play with.
Hunter refocused as he took in the living room. Books and toys littered the room, and a small television that flickered displaying some cartoons had the sound muted. The furniture had mismatched flowered covers tossed over them, and small figurines were stuffed to the max on the bookcase. He sneezed. The dust quotient was out of control.
“Molly and Danielle, go play in the den,” Mrs. Flower yelled. She coughed, and then pulled out a pack of Marlboros.
She lit one, and the acrid tang slid down his throat and made him choke. Damn allergies.
Bea Flower took a deep drag as though it would be her last breath.
Kerry’s face fell, for she too must have sensed this woman was at the end of her proverbial rope.
“Mrs. Szemansky and Mrs. Flower, I’ve brought a photo of the reconstruction.” Hunter handed the picture to Mrs. Flower.
Bea’s hand clawed at her shirt and her face paled. She dropped the photo on her mother’s lap. “It could be my daughter, Deidre. Her eyes were set close together like this woman’s and they both had high cheekbones and a small chin.”
Both waited for the elderly woman to agree or disagree. “The nose isn’t quite right, and Deidre never wore her hair that way.” The elderly woman glanced up. Pain dragged her mouth as she covered the photo with her palm.
“I guessed at the hairstyle,” Kerry said. “Same with the ears, nose and lip thickness.”
Mrs. Szemansky nodded. “Then maybe it is her, but I can’t be positive.”
The older lady flipped the photo face down on her lap, and Hunter took it back from her.
“Can you tell me what happened to Deidre?” Hunter didn’t address either of them in particular.
The smell of popcorn floated in from the kitchen. The kids giggled, as if they knew they should wait for dinner.
“Deidre and Trent were married fifteen years ago,” Bea Flower began. “Everything was going real good until about two years ago.” She turned back toward the kitchen. “Deidre was supposed to be at work. She had two jobs, you know, trying to support the family. She did some accounting work for an elderly gentleman. When took sick one day, she came home early.”
Bea took another drag and seemed to savor the taste, the smell, and the high. “She, ah, caught Trent pawing Molly—she’s Deidre’s eldest. Molly was only twelve at the time.”
Kerry drew in an audible breath and squeezed the arms of the chair. “That’s despicable.” A small bubble flew from her mouth, and she swiped her lips.
He wanted to take Kerry away and comfort her, but she’d protest and insist they finish the interview.
“What happened?” Hunter kept his voice low, but his heart pounded in his chest at the injustice.
“They were at their house, mind you, so I only heard this second hand. Deidre went after him with a kitchen knife. That’s when things got real ugly. She cut him on the arm. He then grabbed the knife from her and sliced up her face. Deidre was able to reach the phone and call 9-1-1. Trent got scared and split.”
Hunter scribbled a note to himself to look up the call. “Were charges filed?”
“Yes. The bastard’s in jail, thank God. Doesn’t help Molly though. He already ruined her. She’s only now enjoying herself again.”
So much for the husband killing the wife. “Mrs. Flower, if the woman we have in the morgue is your daughter, did you know she was pregnant?”
Bea’s hand flew to her mouth and her brows arched. She choked out a response. “No.” Her body crumpled onto the chair next to them, her breaths rapid.
“Was she dating anyone?” With her hubby already in jail, Deidre would have been with someone at least two to three months before her death.
It took a moment before she answered. “Yes. Chris. Chris Auger. He showed no interest in the kids, so Deidre thought he was safe. Too bad he wasn’t nice to my daughter.”
“Was she injured again?”
Her bottom lip protruded over her top lip. “Yes, but Deidre claimed she’d been in a car accident. Her injury occurred right before she disappeared. She said the airbag exploded and smashed her face up pretty bad. Broke the bone above her eye, but I never believed her.”
“Did you think Chris abused her?”
“Yes. I didn’t have the heart to ask the kids about it. I didn’t want to scare them.”
“Can you give me Chris’ address?” He’d definitely check out the guy.
“Sure.” She reached into the coffee table drawer and withdrew a notebook. “Here it is.”
Hunter copied it down.
“Did she have surgery to repair the eye socket?” Kerry asked.
Hunter was glad Kerry had popped back to the realm of the living.
Bea sniffled. “Yes. She went to a plastic surgeon.” A hint of a smile lifted one corner of her lips. “And then she sent the bill to Chris. Apparently, when he saw the amount for the procedure, he went ballistic. Deidre called me that night, crying, saying she had to leave him. She was worried about the children. I told her I’d watch the kids while she figured out what to do.” Her lips trembled. “That was the last time I heard from her.”
Hunter had to ask as Kerry looked lost in thought again. “Do you recall the name of this surgeon?”
“Yes. I’ll never forget. She was so excited he made room for her in his busy schedule. It was Dr. Dalton. He works over on 56th Street.”
Anger stabbed at him. Proof. Somehow he’d get the proof the bastard killed those women. “Thank you.”
Hunter stood and Kerry reached out a hand to stop him. “Mrs. Flower, do you have a hairbrush of Deidre’s?” She explained the DNA process.
“Everything of hers is boxed up in the garage. I suppose I can look through her things.”
“We’d appreciate it.”
Hunter grabbed Kerry’s hand. It was cold and lifeless. Something other than losing her baby had thrown her for a loop while talking to Mrs. Flower, and he was determined to find out what had shaken her to the core.
27
Kerry suggested Domino’s Pizza for a dinner to-go. She sure as hell didn’t feel like cooking. Hunter agreed and picked up a large Pepperoni pizza along with a couple of Cokes.
As they headed home, she couldn’t pry her mind off of poor Molly. How could a father touch his own daughter? It was beyond detestable.
Her mind skipped back in time. Dad and Susan—together. That was worse than a snake slithering into your crotch while your hands and legs were tied.
Move on, Kerry before you break down and cry. She swiped a tissue across her nose but refused to let the tears fall.
Hunter jerked the cruiser to a stop in front of their remote cabin but left the engine running and the air conditioner going full blast. Pinpricks of light filtered across the pond from the neighbors.
He faced her. “You haven’t said much since we left Bea Flower’s place. Is something wrong?”
Now it was Hunter’s turn to question her silence? “Her story is sad, that’s all.” She tried to brush it off, hoping he’d drop the topic. Her own ache cut too deep.
He rubbed her arm. “There’s something more, isn’t there? Her story hit home.”
His tender tone flipped a switch inside her brain. Dare she tell him about the abuse, how unloved she’d felt her whole life? Light from the three-quarter moon mingled with the illumination from the front porch lamp and streamed inside the cab. His blue eyes pooled with sympathy.
Tell him. Tell him.
“Yes, there’s more.” There. She’d said it, though she had no idea how he’d take her confession. She felt like she’d jumped off a cliff into the warm water below. Were there ragged rocks under the surface, or soft sand?
Hunter took her hand. This time she didn’t pull away.