Womens Murder Club - 01 - First to Die by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson [Patterson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-21T17:08:54.682000+00:00

Reporters pushing for my comments on the

Cleveland crime.

Then I heard the throaty voice of Merrill Shortley.

She had left her

California number.

I punched the number as fast as I could.

A housekeeper answered, and I

could hear the wail of a baby crying.

When Merrill got on, I could tell that some of her cool veneer had

cracked.

"I was thinking," she began, "there was something I didn't

mention yesterday."

"Yes?

That's good to hear."

"This guy I told you about?

The one Kathy was hooked up with in San

Francisco?

I was telling you the truth.

I never knew his name."

"Okay, I hear you."

"But there were some things ... I said he didn't treat her well.

He

was into intense sex games.

Props, scenarios.

Maybe even a little

filming.

Problem was, Kathy liked the games."

There was a long pause before Merrill went on.

"Well... I think he

pushed her, forced her, to do more than she was comfortable with.

I

remember marks on her face, bruises on her legs.

Mostly it was her

spirit that was broken.

None of us were exactly bringing home Tom

Cruise then, but there was a time when Kathy was real scared.

She was

in his control."

I began to see where this was heading.

"It's why she moved away, isn't

it?"

I said.

I could hear Merrill Shortley sigh on the other end.

"Yes, it was."

"Then why did she continue to see him from Seattle?

You said she was

involved with him right up to the end."

"I never said," Merrill Shortley replied, "that Kathy knew what was

good for her."

Now I saw Kathy Kogut's life take on the shape of tragic

inevitability.

I was sure she had fled San Francisco, tried to break

away from the grip of this man.

But she couldn't break free.

Was that true of the other murdered brides?

"I need a name, Ms.

Shortley.

Whoever this was, he might've killed

your friend.

There are four others.

The longer he's out there, the

greater the chance he'll do it again."

"I told you, I don't know his name, Inspector."

I raised my voice above the din in the terminal.

"Merrill, someone

must know.

You knew her for years, partied together."

Merrill hesitated.

"In her own way, Kathy was loyal.

She said his

name was well known.

Some kind of celebrity.

Someone I would know.

She was protecting him.

Or maybe protecting herself."

My mind raced to the film and music businesses.

She was into a bad

scene.

She was in over her head, and like many people who feel

trapped, she ran.

She just couldn't get far enough away.

"She must've told you something," I pressed.

"What he did?

Where he

lived?

Where they would meet?

You guys were like sisters."

Wicked

sisters?

"I swear, Inspector.

I've been racking my brain."

"Then someone must know.

Who?

Tell me."

I heard Merrill Shortley let out a mirthless laugh.

"Ask her

sister."

Before we boarded, I beeped McBride and left a detailed message on his

voice mail.

Kathy's lover was probably someone famous.

It was why she

had moved away from San Francisco.

The profile fit the pattern of our

killer.

Her sister, Hillary, might know the killer's name.

On board, all I could think about was that we were getting close.

Raleigh was there beside me.

As the plane rose, I leaned into his arm,

surrendering to total exhaustion.

All my physical troubles seemed a million miles away.

I remembered

something I'd said to Claire.

I had told her that finding this bastard

gave me the resolve to go on.

The red bearded man in my dream who had

gotten away.

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