The screen went black. “Is that it?”
The image had been grainy and it had been hard to discern much detail. How would they run something through a facial recognition program? The most we had was part of a chin and a neck. Why had I thought this would be easy?
Another image queued on the screen after a few clicks. “This is the last of the footage we have. We haven’t been able to determine how the suspect left the premises unless she changed disguises, which is a possibility. We’ve been pulling anyone of the same height and build who left that day. So far we’ve come up empty handed, but we will find her. Watch this next segment.”
Again the screen flickered to life. The woman entered the hallway. Long sleeves covered her arms and keys dangled from her left hand. Trent pointed to the screen. “We’re working on enlarging the image to see if we can determine a make and model of the car from the keys she’s carrying.”
I nodded as I intently watching the woman. Who was she? My mind flitted through anyone I knew Carson associated with in business. No one came to mind. As she passed in front of the camera, something dropped from her other hand. It looked like a pill bottle. “Is that?”
“Yes, we think that was the processed cohosh.”
Hatred filled my veins as I stared at this person. The pressure against my teeth intensified as I ground them together. I stared at the woman as she kneeled to pick up the bottle. She stood up and walked out of camera range.
Then something registered at the back of my mind and I jumped. “Rewind it! Go back to where the woman was kneeling.”
Without a word, Trent complied. I felt Gabe’s gaze on me as I fought through the memories of someone with a birthmark on the back of her neck. Where had I seen that clover-shaped mark? I knew this person.
The image reversed and then played. “Freeze it!” The screen stopped.
I leaned in closer, my heart rate escalating. “Can you zoom in?”
More clicks on the screen. Then Trent responded. “A little, but the distortion will increase some.”
“That’s fine.”
Gabe touched the small of my back. “What are you seeing?”
“I’m not sure. But… I think I’ve met this person before.”
Gabe balled his hand into a fist on my back before he released the tension. I felt the same way. Focusing on the woman, I looked at her hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail. If her hair was down, the birthmark would not be seen.
Clover-shaped birthmark. That was the key. Think, Willow, think. I closed my eyes and an image from Martha’s Vineyard came to my mind.
“Oh shit.” My eyes shot open. “Oh shit. NO! How could she? Why would she?”
Gabe came around and stood between me and the monitor. “Who is it?”
I shook my head, not wanting to believe it. “It’s Rosie. Our friend, Rosie.” Taking a few steps back, I sat in the chair. “It’s her. I know it’s her.”
“Why do you think it’s Rosie, sweetheart?” Gabe knelt in front of me.
Trent typed something on his phone.
Swallowing hard, I organized my thoughts. “You know the trip I took with Carson to Martha’s Vineyard?” Both men nodded their heads. I had met Trent for the first time on that trip. Gabe had been there when I had drank too much to make sure I was safe. That seemed like a lifetime ago. “At the beginning, Rosie had been all over Carson. It was normal Rosie behavior. While Carson was sleeping, we were in the kitchen eating. She wanted to know if Carson would like this teal and feather nightie. While she was asking, she kept playing with her hair and I saw the birthmark. I distinctly remembered it being clover shaped like it is in this video. I hadn’t ever seen it before, and Rosie fits the build of that woman.”
Fire burned within Gabe’s eyes. “We need to tell Carson and get this taken care of.” There was a deadly venom in his voice. “He’s got twenty-four hours or I’m handling it.”
My nerves were shot as I sat in my studio, watching the second hand tick down. Minutes seemed like hours. The pressure from Gabe’s hand on our interlocked fingers reminded me he was here.
Alex hadn’t been involved with the poisoning. In some ways this felt worse, having a friend do something so vile.
Our eyes were glued to the computer screen that had the camera feed of my front door. After much debate Gabe, Trent, and Carson agreed I could safely remain on the premises as long as I agreed to come to the studio. Two of Gabe’s military friends were outside. I had met them briefly when they arrived this afternoon. The introduction had been short, but I sensed a deep loyalty between the men. So far, Trent was impressed with their work.
After the discovery of Rosie yesterday, Trent drove to the hospital to talk to Carson about Rosie and give him Gabe’s time limit. With the Alex situation, we also had a limited window of time to see his mother. Rosie was something that needed to be dealt with swiftly. Since the cops were involved with this, the last thing we wanted were the two intertwining at the same time. Otherwise, Alex might be disappear like he had when Gabe was a child. Thinking of him interfering with us down the road when our children were older was not an option.
After re-examining all the evidence, Gabe and Trent believed Rosie was the person driving the Hummer also. Someone fitting the same description of the person in the hotel video had rented one three counties away a couple of days before the incident.
I turned my attention back to the screen. Last night I barely slept, knowing a good friend of ours had done such a thing. The realization made me doubt most things in my life, but I refused to let Rosie have that power over me. Part of me hoped I was wrong. It would have been easier to understand if it had been someone with an ax to grind. Sick, I know.
But, Rosie.
All those years we thought her to be crazy yet lovable. What else had she done? Or had the knowledge of Francesca’s pregnancy sent her over the edge?
The concern she had for me in the hospital was evident, but ultimately an act. Through the night, I tried to remember all we talked about. The conversations were normal, but exactly what we talked about evaded me.
Shortly after Trent gave him the news, Carson called me on a secure line. Livid was an understatement. He asked for permission to have Rosie over to the house today.
I leaned my head on Gabe’s shoulder needing the support. “I know, sweetheart. It’s hard.”
Carson had arrived about three hours ago. Francesca had fussed over getting him settled. After two hours, Carson asked her to get some things from his house with Marie. Of course she jumped at the chance. Everything was going according to plan as the doorbell chimed elaborately.
Andre came to the door. Rosie stood there with a huge Cheshire grin on her face when the door opened. Dressed like a slut, her shirt was low and her skirt high.
I saw her in a completely different light and my stomach roiled.
Gabe turned up the volume on the monitor.
“I’m here to see Carson Whitmore. He’s expecting me.”
This morning Carson called Rosie and asked if she could visit him this afternoon. He as
ked she come alone so they could talk “privately.”
“Yes.”
Rosie entered the house and looked toward the living room. The view on the monitor changed as they walked down the hall and into the office. Gabe hit another button to display the feed from office. Rosie stopped at the door. “Carson. You’re looking better. Thank goodness you’re okay. I tried to see you, but they wouldn’t let me.”
Motioning to Andre, Carson “dismissed” him. The door clicked shut giving the illusion of privacy. Carson wore lounge pants and a T-shirt. To the normal observer he appeared to be relaxing on the couch. The ticking in his jaw told a different story. “Thanks, it’s been tough. Doctors expect me to make a full recovery.”
Tentatively, Rosie took a few steps closer. “Oh good. You have no idea how relived I am.”
Yeah, right, considering you put us in the hospital.
“Come, have a seat.” Carson patted the space next to him. “I wanted to talk to you while I have the chance. Since waking up, I haven’t had a moment to myself. Sorry I didn’t call sooner.” He delivered the line smoothly as he gave her his patented smile that won over most of the female population. He had to be tired, but he pushed through.
For a brief second, Rosie looked around to see if they truly were alone. As she walked toward him, she asked, “Where’s Willow, Gabe, and Francesca?”
There was a hint of disdain as she said Francesca’s name. Had Rosie’s erratic behavior masked the clues to a more serious problem that had been there all along? Apparently, it had. I thought she was happy dating Mitchell.
Carson raised his arm behind his head, showing off his abs. The way Rosie gravitated toward him while staring at the exposed skin lured her into the illusion.
“Willow and Gabe went to eat. I sent Francesca on a fake errand.”
Slowly, Rosie lowered herself on the couch. Breathily, she jutted out her chest while asking, “Why?”
Gross. Disgusting. Sick. All those words described this unfamiliar friend.
Leaning forward, Carson placed his hand on hers and the image revolted me.
Gabe squeezed my hand. “Willow, he’s acting.”