Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [71]
“Where did you get this?” Kendra stood up suddenly. “That picture is over two years old. It was taken at a press conference in Seattle after the police caught a bank robbery suspect I’d sketched.”
“It ran in one of the Seattle newspapers. I found it on the Internet,” Miranda said. “Right now, we’re checking with the Seattle police and NCIC to see if there are any unsolved murders where the victims had similar hair clips.”
“You think he did this . . . that he . . . the killer . . . put these clips in their hair? You think he’s been watching me for two years?” Kendra whispered, disbelieving. “Why would anyone be watching me?”
Miranda looked up at Adam, who nodded slowly.
“Lieutenant Barker?” Miranda drew him into the conversation.
The state trooper approached the table, a small brown evidence envelope in his hand. He unhooked the clasp designed to keep the contents from spilling out and passed the envelope to Kendra.
Something in the envelope was round and heavy, and she shook it to slide the object onto the table. She stared dumbly at the shiny silver watch with the leather strap that landed on the wooded surface with a faint clunk.
“Kendra,” Lieutenant Barker said, “do you recognize that watch?”
Her hand reached for it, then she paused, looking up at Barker.
“It’s okay,” he told her. “It was already dusted for prints. There weren’t any.”
Kendra picked up the watch and studied it warily. On the face was the raised impression of a Gothic-style building, around which letters spelled out PRINCETON ACADEMY. Her hands began to shake as she turned it over to read the initials engraved on the back.
IJS
“I don’t understand.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I don’t understand.”
“We checked with the school,” Miranda said gently. “The only student who ever attended Princeton Academy who had those initials was—”
“My brother, Ian.” Kendra finished the sentence. “Ian Jefferson Smith. Where did you find this?”
“You recognize this watch as having belonged to your brother?” Barker asked.
“Yes, yes. My mother bought it for him. Ian was so pleased.” She looked across the table at Adam. “As I told you, Ian had been in and out of trouble for about a year. That last summer, he seemed to turn the corner. Stopped sneaking out, never missed a curfew. So my mother gave him the watch and a matching key chain for his birthday.”
“What were the keys for, do you know?”
“There was one for the front door of the house in Princeton,” she fingered the watch, remembering, “and one for the back door there, too.”
“Only those two?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Do you know where the key chain is now?”
“I’m sure it’s in a box someplace. My mother kept that after Ian died. It had represented something to her. It had been an act of faith on her part, giving him his own keys after all he’d done that year.”
“Do you know where it is now?”
“Yes. It’s still in the safe-deposit box where I put it, along with her jewelry after she . . . after she died.” She turned to Adam. “It’s still running. The watch is still running.”
“I noticed. Kendra,” Adam asked, “do you remember where and when you last saw this watch?”
“Yes, I do. It was on his wrist when he boarded the plane for Tucson. It was the last time I ever saw him.” Kendra watched the second hand tick around the face of the watch.
“Are you positive?” Adam asked.
“Absolutely positive. One hundred percent positive.”
“And you’re certain it was this watch, not another one.” Barker leaned on the back of the chair at the head of the table.
“It was the only one he had. Now, is someone going to tell me where it was found?”
“It was under the body of the last victim,” Adam told her.
“What?”
“It was underneath Leslie Miller’s body,” Adam repeated.
“Well, that makes no sense.” Kendra frowned. “How could that possibly be? Ian had taken it with him to Arizona. . . .”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Lieutenant Barker said. “We were hoping you’d