It’s a Wonderful Life.
Like hell.
He remembered seeing the movie in black and white. He’d shuddered at the scene where George Bailey’s brother had fallen through the ice and had imagined all too vividly what the boy had felt…cold, cold water swirling, pulling him down, freezing his lungs as he gulped the frigid water, the entire world swimming, his heart pounding…the black terror that struck…
“Are you okay?”
His head snapped up and he looked at the waitress, a girl of about eighteen who held a carafe of coffee in one hand and a pitcher of ice water in the other.
Noticing the cubes floating in the water, chilling it, he managed a smile. “Yes…fine. Just not happy that the Trail Blazers lost again.”
“Nobody is. Aside from the weather, it’s all the talk this morning.” She seemed mollified, managed a wide grin that showed off her braces. “More water or tea?”
“I’m fine.” To prove it, he lifted his glass and took a long swallow.
Satisfied that her customer was content, she slid to the next table.
You idiot! he silently admonished. Don’t blow this! Not now. Be patient. Everything’s working fine. Perfectly.
Calming himself, he slowly picked up the paper and turned the page; then, through the slit in the café curtains, caught the image of an old, beat-up truck just outside the window. His heart jolted as he hazarded a closer look and recognized Jenna Hughes at the wheel.
It was fate. He was sure of it. She’d driven up solely to remind him of his purpose.
He trembled.
She was so close.
His breathing became shallow.
Her pickup was paused at a stoplight and she was looking straight ahead…no, she checked the rearview mirror, touched the corner of her perfect mouth as if to brush off a bit of errant lipstick, then focused on the street again.
His insides quivered and he licked the edge of his mouth, silently hoping that she would turn in his direction so he could get a glimpse of her incredible face. Her profile was regal. Classic. But he wanted desperately to stare into her eyes.
It was not to be.
Instead, she turned her head in the opposite direction, giving him a brief view of glossy black hair as she drove through the intersection. Immediately after the turn, she flipped on her blinker and rolled into the theater’s parking lot.
He smiled inwardly, feeling a deep satisfaction.
He knew the remodeled church as well as he did his own home. As well as he knew hers.
His pulse was thrumming in his ears now…he hadn’t expected to see her and usually he planned everything. But this…this sighting was so close it had to be fate. Kismet.
As she stepped out of the cab of the truck, she paused and looked up the street.
He couldn’t resist. He left more than enough money on the counter, hurried outside, and bundled against the wind, walked toward the theater.
In an alley across the street, he stood in the shadow of a huge fir tree and watched her climb the steps to the double doors. She pulled one open. As she did, before she disappeared inside, he blew her a kiss.
“It won’t be long,” he promised, his voice the barest of whispers in the rush of icy wind.
“So what have we got?” Carter asked BJ as she settled into the side chair near his desk. He was just taking off his jacket and hadn’t quite shaken off the encounter with Jenna Hughes, which bothered the hell out of him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have more important things to think about.
“What have we got?” BJ repeated, shaking her head. “Not enough.” BJ’s hair was short and brown, shot with streaks of red. Her facial features were on the small side, except for her eyes, which were large, dark brown, and didn’t miss much. “The M.E. is still working on Jane Doe. We’re not certain of when Jane Doe died, but the M.E. thinks it’s probably within the year—possibly last spring, because of the decay of the body, the insect larvae found around it, the fact that animals had dragged body parts away. You’ll get a full report as soon as one’s available.”
Carter frowned and tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his cluttered desk. “I talked to Missing Persons in Salem. Nothing yet, but they’re still working on trying to match Jane physically to someone who’s been reported missing in the last couple of years.”
“Just statewide?”