“Then, of course. That shouldn’t be a problem. I can have them here and back before anyone notices. And there’s a bloke who owes me in case I can’t. Now’s the best time, while everyone is in a tizzy. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Frank exited the room, leaving him alone with Marietta.
“What happened downstairs? I couldn’t see around your shoulder very well. What I did see was gruesome, though.” She shuddered. “Nightmare inducing.”
“Yes,” he said absently, thoughts coiling and refusing to connect.
“Gabriel?” She touched his chin and turned his face toward her. “We can leave. I’m sure we can come back later.”
A fierce surge of something passed through him. “I’m fine. We need to get through here before Dresden puts a halt on our ability to move freely.”
Dear God. What was he going to do if his ugly suspicions bore fruit?
Frank huffed into the room. “Darn circus down there. I think ten minutes is about all we can spare.”
Gabriel nodded and took the sketches from him. Cold fear coiled in his gut as he looked at the first one. Yes, with what he knew now, this woman was familiar. Older, but he could fit her features on his memories, his nightmares. He flipped the page. Fear turned to ice. He fiddled with the edge of the paper. He didn’t want to flip to the last page. To confirm.
From the corner of his eye he saw Marietta look at him.
He flipped the page. The paper wavered in his view, and he placed the pages on the desk before his shaking hands could scatter them to the floor.
A woman with a different name. The one identified victim. Anthony would surely be sending him a note any day with her original name. Amanda Forester. A rushed wedding, Marietta had said. He should have received a note from the man who was paid to keep track of the women for him. To let him know that one of them had changed her name. What would he have done had he known the victim’s original name earlier? Before the investigation had begun?
“I see.” He forced a smile. “Thank you, Frank. This was very helpful.”
Helpful in the way that someone helped you dig a grave in a cemetery plot that just happened to have your name on the headstone.
“Come.” He turned to Marietta. “We must be out before Dresden appears.” He turned back to Frank and shook his hand, forcing the steady calm he had mastered to deal with any situation involvingthem. “Thank you. Please let me know if there is anything I can help you with.”
Frank smiled and gathered the papers. “It was no problem, Mr. Noble. I’m always available to help with your cases. Especially the ones like mine. I appreciate all you do to help us. The ‘Protector,’ we call you.”
Protector. Would he still retain that goodwill if his past were to become common knowledge—especially now with four dead women from it lying in the coroner’s office either on a table or in a sketch?
He forced his lips into a smile. “Miss Rose here will be forced to tease me from my arrogance for a week now.”
Frank smiled at Marietta. “Good luck to you, miss. I’m sure that whatever you need help with will be resolved soon. Problems always are when Mr. Noble is involved.”
Such faith. He had developed a network to make sure that those who sought help would not find themselves in the same position he had once found himself. Helpless. He shuddered, covering the involuntary action by gripping the door handle. Everything was coming full circle.
He strode from the room.
Marietta followed behind. “What did you learn from the sketches?”
And Marietta. Completely in the dark. Trusting him like they all trusted him. Not knowing that she could be the first one to whom he might betray that trust.
“I was looking for age, physical characteristics, anything that might tie them together.” It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth.
“And?”
“They mostly look to be the same age. I will see if I can get someone to copy and circulate the pictures to discover more about them.”
He wasn’t sure he was going to do any such thing. He didn’t want anyone to recognize the victims. He couldn’t believe no one had yet, even though, at the same time, he would have been hard pressed to identify them himself if he hadn’t been presented with pictures of the matched set. He wondered if it was the murderer’s intention to make them unrecognizable.
Why hadn’t anyone claimed them missing? He’d have to see where the hell his investigator was and what he had to say. The man was well paid to keep track of them. He should have received word concerning Amanda’s marriageweeksago.
He balled his fists. The man was paid exorbitantly to keep track of their whereabouts so that Gabriel could forget all about them—unless one was up to her old tricks. He dealt with any of those tricks swiftly and financially. That was definitely one reason a few of them wouldn’t have been missed yet—tossed from society and penniless as they were.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he never saw the man step in front of them until he stepped on his foot.
