Read Online Mistaken Identity by Diane Fanning - Free Book Online

winked at her from the wrought-iron pot rack hanging over the stainless stovetop on a spacious island. Cheerful red and yellow towels hung from hooks hung at one end.
    Bright tropical fish magnets attached recipes, notes, cards and photos to the front of the oversized refrigerator. At the far end of the counter sat a built-in secretary desk, its top folded down and smeared with black powder, its contents looted and disorderly. Above it was a glass-fronted cabinet filled with assorted whimsical salt and pepper shakers. Lucinda smiled when she saw a pair of penguins that reminded her of the ones that sat in a place of honor in her mother’s kitchen.
    The ambiance in the kitchen embodied the essence of home – all of the memories and comfort of the idealized vision that beckons bruised hearts. Lucinda knew this was the essence of Jeanine. That awareness transformed Jeanine from a victim to a real person – so real that Lucinda could almost hear her voice.
    Beyond the kitchen was a family room – another space exuding the personality of Jeanine. Built-in shelves were packed with books, mementoes and family photos – from the old black and whites of the past to contemporary color shots of Parker, Jeanine and Freddy at the beach, in the mountains and posing in front of an array of recognizable international landmarks. In every picture, the focal point was the never-ending, vibrant smile on Jeanine’s face.
    Lucinda studied every one of them, searching for any signs of the darkness that Victoria Whitehead had claimed was lurking behind Parker’s eyes; seeking any clues to explain the horror that had visited them in their bedroom. All she saw was a happy family – and nothing more.
    She moved on to the office. The techs had plundered this room more than any other outside of the master bedroom suite. At two computer workstations, all that remained were wires. The file drawers were empty, stray notes scattered across the floor, the chairs pulled away from the desks. Lucinda moved on, taking the stairs to the second floor. She stood by the stripped bed next to the spot where Jeanine’s body lay. She sighed as she thought of how much Freddy would miss this woman with her radiant smile.
    In the bathroom, she stared at the holes where bullets were once lodged, trying to make sense of the chain of events that led to the gory sight in the bathtub. She tried to visualize the room without gouges in the walls, bloodstains on the floor and the smell of death in the air.
    Lucinda left the immediate crime scene and explored the rest of the second floor. The two guest bedrooms, slightly unkempt from the search, merited only a glance. She spent more time in Freddy’s room. It was a second master with an en suite bathroom and a large walk-in closet. He had two workspaces; one for his computer – now in the forensics lab – and another for a microscope, chemistry set, bug collecting kit and other paraphernalia of a budding young lab rat.
    There was a faint odor in the room that Lucinda could not place. At first, she thought it must be coming from the chemistry set but when she approached the desk, the smell grew fainter. Moving toward the boy’s bed, it intensified. It wasn’t the odd smell that wafts from a hamper full of an adolescent male’s dirty clothes – it was a familiar scent.
    When she pulled the bedspread back, the odor blossomed making it easier to identify – garlic. But why would his bed smell like garlic? She lifted the pillows and found the source – six cloves of garlic lay on the sheet next to a silver cross and a primitive voodoo doll bristling with pins. She stared at this hidden treasure in stunned silence trying to understand the why of it. Then she whipped out her cellphone and snapped a picture and slid all items inside an evidence bag.
    Lucinda had even more questions now but, so far, no answers.

Twelve
     
    The last thing Freddy wanted to do was think but it seemed as if that was all he could do, no matter