A Face to Die For (Forensic Instincts 6)

Mentally, Casey had to agree. “Anything consensual?” she asked.

“Again, not from what I’ve heard. But I doubt a student would publicize her affair with a professor. So who knows?”

“Does he seem to have a type he focuses on?”

Lina shrugged. “Pretty. Guileless. Other than that, he’s an equal opportunity perv.”

No surprise there. Ryan’s research had shown much the same pattern—or lack thereof.

“Okay, give me a rundown on what Anne told you—from the come-ons to the gift deliveries.”

The story Lina relayed was totally in line with what Brianna had said—only less emotional. That was exactly the tenor Casey was hoping to establish. Now she could build on it and move on. “Now tell me what things you actually saw, not the things Anne told you.”

Lina didn’t look surprised. She was a bright girl. She knew where this was headed. “I saw the gifts,” she replied. “I was with Anne a few of the times she discovered them on her doorstep. I was also with her when she got those creepy phone calls—all breathing and hanging threats, no words spoken. But what you really want to know is, did I see Joe that night outside her apartment building. And the answer is yes.”

Casey’s brow furrowed. There was a note of absolute certainty in Lina’s voice that puzzled her. “You sound as if you’re positive the man you saw was Joe. Did you actually see his face? Make out his features?”

“Neither. It was dark. And we weren’t close enough to distinguish facial details.”

“Then how can you be sure it was Joe?”

Lina looked Casey straight in the eye. “Part of the reason I’m such a good buyer is because I’m a very visual person. Just as I know the lines and styles of clothing, I know the lines of the human body. I can make out body types, stances, and distinct gestures.”

Casey processed that. Lina wasn’t a behaviorist. This was a reach, one she couldn’t blindly buy into.

“Let’s say that’s possible,” she said. “Wouldn’t it only work if you’ve had the opportunity to thoroughly study someone? You just told me you’ve only seen Joe at a podium in a crowded auditorium, or occasionally around campus.”

“Until all this went down with Anne that was true. But since then I’ve watched him like a hawk. Trust me, I can pick him out in the dark, even from a short distance.” Lina counted off on her fingers, supplying Casey with the proof she needed. “He’s tall and lean, but he has a bit of a gut. He plants his feet apart but leans slightly to the right. He paces back and forth, and he keeps his left arm folded across his chest. He smokes—which the guy outside Anne’s apartment was doing—and he holds his cigarette in his right hand. Everyone who smokes has a specific style—his is taking slow, long drags and then exhaling in an upward stream, almost like a rhythm. And he’s very neat about disposing of his cigarette butts. He grinds them under his heel and then picks them up and tosses them in the trash. I guess that, besides being a perv, he’s an environmentalist.”

Casey did a mental double take. She was surprised and more than a little impressed. This was no spoiled little rich girl. This was one damned smart woman. “Maybe you should come work for us.”

Lina laughed. “Doubtful. That’s where my talents end. I can’t pick up on people’s thoughts or their emotions. Just their physical stuff.”

“Just the same, you make one hell of a good witness. The information you supplied will really help. I hope we can continue to count on you, especially since Anne is staying at your place.”

“Yeah, she and Bandit moved in earlier this week. Anne’s a pleasure; Bandit not so much.”

Casey felt her lips twitch. “I assume Bandit is the pet ferret.”

“Destructo-pet,” Lina corrected, rolling her eyes. “He pretends to be cute and cuddly. Meanwhile, he’s taken a liking to my Burberry cashmere scarf. It’s become his toy of choice. I doubt it’ll be part of my winter wardrobe next year.”

“Maybe he’ll pay for a new one,” Casey suggested, mirth dancing in her eyes.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

With a hearty laugh, Casey rose, extending her hand again and shaking Lina’s. “Meeting you was a pleasure. I have your number. I’ll be in touch.”

Lina met Casey’s handshake. “Please do,” she said, her expression growing troubled. “I’m sure I’m not saying anything that you and your team haven’t already thought of, but the fact that Joe is going to such great lengths to continue stalking Anne is really scary. Bad enough that he did it during the school year when they interacted several times a week. But now? When she’s not taking summer classes and she’s working on the Upper East Side? This is serious, Casey. Anne is in real danger.”

CHAPTER 5

Thank God that Gia’s last über-wedding that weekend was a Sunday afternoon wedding at a Westchester County country club in Armonk. That meant the festivities were over by seven rather than midnight, not to mention it was only a twenty-minute drive from the club to her townhouse.

It was a rare event for Gia to be home, in her sweats, and curled up on her living room sofa, eating a Lean Cuisine and watching Dancing with the Stars on her DVR, before nine p.m.

This weekend had been a killer. The sound system at Saturday afternoon’s wedding had gone on the fritz. The maid of honor in Saturday night’s wedding had gone MIA ten minutes before show time. And at today’s wedding, the hem of a bridesmaid’s dress had gotten caught and mangled in a golf cart.

Gia to the rescue. She’d paged her sound tech, who was on retainer and at the wedding. He’d found the electronic glitch pronto and fixed it minutes before the procession began. Saturday night’s maid of honor had been located—and swiftly extricated—by Gia, where she’d been hooking up in the coat closet with the groom’s cousin. And Sunday afternoon’s dress had required some quick work on Gia’s part—a shearing scissors, a tube of Krazy Glue, and a patch of material taken from the gown’s underside to cover the visible damage. Then came a quick steam, and the dress looked as good as new. Potential crisis averted.