The Nobody Girls (Kendra Dillon Cold Case Thriller Book 3) Rebecca Rane (ereader for comics .TXT) 📖

Kendra didn’t judge Fairly; it was an awful scene. She’d looked at the crime scene photos from 1980. She let him continue and tried to put a clamp on her own fears. He’d done an excellent job conveying his horror and spreading the freak out to her.

“I looked again, closer, and the face was partly visible. So there this face was, battered, dead, and not evil, but afraid, still. I turned and ran back to the station and called the police.”

After that, Kendra did know what happened. In cold official, FBI jargon.

Chuck Fairly, the weight station attendant, had found Jane Doe Two, still no name, after all this time.

Her bra had been wrapped around her neck by her murderer.

Her body had been discarded, like garbage, with garbage.

And her name remained a mystery.

Chapter 17

Kendra spent the night at a hotel in Cincinnati. She checked out early, after a fitful night of sleep.

She wanted to make a quick stop in her condo. She planned to drop some things off and then meet Shoop back at WPLE. They’d have a lot to sort through with her new interviews.

Kendra found her mother waiting for her in the hallway outside her condo. This was bad. Stephanie Dillon didn’t wait. People waited for her. Had she forgotten some brunch she was supposed to attend?

“Mom, to what do I owe this surprise visit?”

“Let’s get inside. I do not want my personal business conducted in the hallway for anyone to see.”

Kendra agreed that, yes, they should get inside. But it’s not like the paparazzi sat outside her door waiting for a Stephanie Dillon sighting.

She unlocked the door, and they stepped in.

“Oh, good, the painting I sent arrived. Now you just need to get it hung. It will help make this place look less like a model unit and more like a home of an adult person with a nationally famous groundbreaking podcast.”

“Thanks for the painting, Mom. I just haven’t had time.”

“I’ll send Johnathan over; he can hang it. You always hang your artwork too high. It looks tacky.”

“I can hang it.”

“Well, then why haven’t you? Terrance Delors is an up-and-coming artist. Not only will this make your space more beautiful, but this is also an investment. Its value will only go up.”

“Okay, yes. Mom, is that why you’re here? To check up on my artwork?”

“No, but it’s good I came, now I know not only do I have to select the décor for this place, but I also have to properly install it and stage it. Scott is so good at that. You really should reconsider that relationship. He was the perfect complement to your, uh, more college-level aesthetic.”

“Mom.”

“Fine, fine, I’m here because of your father.”

“Is he okay? I thought his blood sugar was under control. Ugh, I’ll call and check to be sure his—”

“It’s not that. It’s this woman, this slut, that has moved into my house.”

“It’s hardly your house. You live in Columbus.”

“I do that for work. My home, as you know, will always be on Pearl Street.”

“What do you expect me to do about this?”

“He listens to you. Tell him he looks ridiculous, cavorting around with a younger woman.”

“Mom, Darleen isn’t a younger woman.”

“She’s in her forties. She probably worked at that place like a vulture, circling, circling until an unsuspecting codger comes in, and she swoops.”

“Dad isn’t a codger.”

Kendra immediately realized she hadn’t delivered that statement with much force. Her dad was erratic before they got him to the hospital. He’d been wiley and calculating when made the break from the rehab facility, but still, Stephanie was right, Don was off the rails.

“He’s acting like a fool, and I won’t have it. It puts us all in a bad light.”

“A-ha, there we go! You’re afraid his new, uh, girlfriend makes you look bad.”

“Me? How about you and your sister too? People are snickering behind his back, behind your back, I’m quite certain.”

“I can’t go over there and throw her out of the house. Also, she seems nice. She was waiting on dad hand and foot and checking his blood sugar for him. Stuff you won’t do.”

“I’m an influential person with a packed schedule. You’re judging me for not playing nurse maid to a grown man?”

“No, I’m not judging you.”

“Perhaps you should look in the mirror. You’re not exactly the model wife or ex-wife.”

“Mom, it appears you came over here to tell me I suck and to also ask me to intervene on your behalf. Stephanie Dillon, deal maker, I think you’re the one who might be losing it.”

Kendra stood toe to toe with her mother. Stephanie glowered down at her. Though Stephanie was in her fifties and Kendra in her thirties, Kendra had no doubt that her mother could kick her butt in hand-to-hand combat. Her mother would stand her ground in this battle of wills. In any battle, really, your best bet was to be on Stephanie Dillon’s side.

So, Kendra blinked. Fighting with her mother wasn’t on her list of things to do today. Kendra deliberately showed her soft underbelly to take the temperature of their interaction down a few notches. Her mother was usually disarmed by the soft underbelly because it signaled that she’d won. It meant Stephanie could relent and didn’t have to press quite as hard. Kendra had learned this over a lifetime doing battle with her mother.

“Mom, let’s sit down and stop fighting. I’m tired. This current season of the podcast is eating me up right now. And Dad, well, you’re right on a lot of points.”

Stephanie Dillon was formidable, and in almost any category you picked, tough as nails. She aimed to win. Kendra let her, and so, Stephanie put down her weapons.

“Okay, good. I’m glad you see it my way.”

Kendra hadn’t said that, but whatever. “I think we just let this play out a little bit.”

“You mean let your father think he’s getting married, even though he’s already married? That will be wonderful for the gossip columns.”

“Mom, there aren’t gossip columns, and you know it.”

“Well, there