Nobody Knows Read online

  NON-STOP PRAISE FOR

  MARY JANE CLARK:

  NOBODY KNOWS

  “As a hurricane approaches and a dead woman’s hand washes ashore, Cassie pieces together a bizarre puzzle with pieces tying back to the serial rapist.”

  —Booklist

  “Clear, flowing prose . . . [Clark] has an insider’s expertise that adds to the novel’s verisimilitude . . . [Clark] makes ample use of her insider credentials and story lines right out of the headlines . . . [a] well-crafted page turner.”

  —HeraldTribune.com

  “An enjoyable read.”

  —Brazosport Facts (Brazos, TX)

  CLOSE TO YOU

  “Smooth is the word for this expert thriller . . . moving along effortlessly and unhurriedly, acquiring characters and subplots as it goes, always focusing on the climax the reader knows will come when the killer finally makes his move . . . Clark’s tale delivers the goods . . . Clark’s depiction of the stalkers who plague celebrities disturbs and convinces, and her characters come alive on the page: criminal, sick, genuinely evil, or simply flawed and very human.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “An eerie story [with] a satisfying ending.”

  —Providence Journal

  “Gave me chills right from Chapter One . . . This really is ‘behind the camera’—Mary Jane Clark gets the details right.”

  —Vicky Mabrey, Correspondent, 60 Minutes II

  “[An] expert tale . . . delivers the goods.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Mary Jane Clark nails it; with every page my heart raced faster.”

  —Gretchen Carlson, Anchor, CBS Saturday Show

  “Clark’s story retains its suspense throughout.”

  —Newark Star-Ledger

  “Mary Jane Clark has brought home the reality that being on television is not always so glamorous: Sometimes it can be downright terrifying!”

  —Elizabeth Kaledin, Correspondent,

  CBS Evening News with Dan Rather

  “A frightening—and firsthand—look at the darker side of celebrity.”

  —Sun Herald (Colusa, CA)

  LET ME WHISPER IN YOUR EAR

  “A suspense-charged, absorbing tale of treachery, troubled psyches, and flawed relationships that leaps beyond romantic suspense into the heart’s darkest realms . . . Kept me guessing right up until the final jolting betrayal.”

  —Perri O’Shaughnessy, author of Unfit to Practice

  “Mary Jane Clark keeps the reader on the edge of [his or her] seat in Let Me Whisper in Your Ear. The combination of mind-dazzling suspense and nostalgia for the glory days of Palisades Park is a heady one. Lovers of great romantic mysteries will surely want to read the other novels of Ms. Clark.”

  —Romantic Times

  DO YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL?

  “Clark, who in real life is a writer and producer for CBS News, understands how to hang on to her audience. Her characters are the sorts with whom many readers identify. Her first book, Do You Want To Know A Secret?, had pluses. It was well told; its characters and plot were compelling. But Promise is stronger still . . . it is a fun read with some nifty twists.”

  —USA Today

  “The suspense never flags, and the killer’s identity remains a secret long into the tale . . . for those who can’t get enough of the competitively backbiting world of network news, this novel offers entertaining verisimilitude.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “In news as in life, luck often counts as much as hard work. Clark captures the spirit of an enterprising reporter who relies on both to ‘get’ the story of her life.”

  —Deborah Norville, anchor, Inside Edition

  DO YOU WANT TO KNOW A SECRET?

  “Clark . . . spins a tightly knit whodunit with engaging characters and a suspenseful plot.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The secret is out: Mary Jane Clark is one of the most exciting novelists in America today. Her debut thriller takes us on a suspense-filled insider’s tour of the corridors of power in politics and journalism where everybody’s got a secret, everybody wants a scoop—and now somebody has murder in mind. Do You Want to Know A Secret? is an unabashed, edge-of-the-seat, they-don’t-write-’em-like-that-anymore, unplug-the-phone-and-disconnect-the-TV, page-turning stunner!”

  —Dan Rather

  “Do You Want to Know A Secret? is a brilliantly structured thriller. The secrets and surprises just keep coming and make perfect sense in the TV media world that Mary Jane Clark has absolutely nailed.”

  —Janet Evanovich, author of To the Nines

  “Secrets . . . ambition . . . intrigue . . . Mary Jane Clark knowingly seduces you in this intensely suspenseful behind-the-media-scenes thriller.”

  —Joan Rivers

  ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES

  BY MARY JANE CLARK

  Do You Want to Know a Secret?

  Do You Promise Not to Tell?

  Let Me Whisper in Your Ear

  Close to You

  Nobody Knows

  Nowhere to Run

  Hide Yourself Away

  Dancing in the Dark

  Lights Out Tonight

  NOBODY

  KNOWS

  MARY JANE CLARK

  NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  NOBODY KNOWS

  Copyright © 2002 by Mary Jane Clark.

  Excerpt from Dancing in the Dark copyright © 2005 by Mary Jane Clark.

  Excerpt from Hide Yourself Away copyright © 2004 by Mary Jane Clark.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2002024857

  ISBN: 0-312-98383-2

  ISBN 978-0-312-98383-3

  Printed in the United States of America

  St. Martin’s Press hardcover edition / July 2002

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / August 2003

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8

  Again, for Elizabeth and David

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  At the start, there was only a mental image of a little boy with a metal detector finding something in the soft Florida sand. What it was he found, I did not know, nor did I have any idea where the discovery would lead. Getting from that initial idea to the book you now hold in your hands required help. To those who came through with essential assistance when I needed it, my sincere thanks.

  Father Paul Holmes, independent editor, did not look askance at me when I told him about my vague vision. Paul encouraged me and brainstormed with me through a tough autumn when real world events seemed far stranger and more terrifying than anything this writer could dream up. His support was unflagging.

  Jim Murphy, executive producer of the CBS Evening News with Dan Rather, generously shared his experience and insights on what the ethical and legal ramifications are for running with a controversial story ahead of the competition.

  CBS news correspondent Bobbi Harley came to my rescue again, this time providing lots of colorful descriptions of working in Miami and covering hurricanes.

  Those Federal B
ureau of Investigation sources keep wanting to remain nameless, but another special agent took time to explain to me the workings of the FBI’s Fugitives List.

  As deadline approached, Mary Catherine Ryan came through with immediate research assistance, as did Elizabeth Higgins Clark, my daughter.

  Laura Dail makes the “business” of writing so much more fun than it otherwise would be. I couldn’t ask for a more nurturing, energetic, capable agent and, now, good friend.

  And while we’re on the subject of business and friendship, Colleen Kenny came into my life years ago as my children’s baby-sitter, grew to be a friend, and has developed into a first-class Web master, showering her conscientious attention on www.maryjaneclark.com.

  The contribution of Jennifer Enderlin is formidable. I know I am fortunate to have such a talented and creative editor. Jen was able to pinpoint areas where the story needed more fleshing out, and her expert suggestions definitely make Nobody Knows a more compelling read. I can’t thank her enough for the care she has taken with this project, beginning with conceptualizing the cover, which art director Anne Twomey executed to perfection. As always, it makes me feel better to know that Sally Richardson, Matthew Shear, and John Murphy are on my side at St. Martin’s Press.

  Finally, if Jane and Bennett Willis had not introduced me to the beauty that is Sarasota so many breathtaking sunsets ago, I would not have had firsthand experience of this luscious locale, the place where my precocious child finds something in the sand. To Aunt Jane and Uncle Bennett and my family and dear friends, “nobody knows” where I would be without you.

  PROLOGUE

  Tuesday, February 19

  From the time she’d been old enough to understand what it was, she was afraid of it. All women were. It was brutal, invasive, destructive, and too horrible to wrap your mind around.

  Rape was all these things, but it was not a federal crime.

  Something didn’t feel right here. KEY News Justice Correspondent Cassie Sheridan waited for the press conference to begin, already knowing from her FBI sources that a rapist was being added to the Fugitives List.

  STRANGE, THOUGHT Cassie as she watched Pamela Lynch, clad in a severe gray business suit, take the platform at the front of the crowded pressroom at the J. Edgar Hoover Building. While the director was known to announce additions to the infamous Ten Most Wanted List, the Fugitives List didn’t warrant the same attention. Why was the FBI’s first female director facing the press herself on this one?

  Pamela Lynch ran her fingers through her cropped gray hair and cleared her throat as the din of the press people subsided.

  “Good afternoon, everyone,” she began, looking directly out into the audience. “The FBI realizes the value of public assistance in tracking down fugitives. Since the establishment of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Ten Most Wanted List over fifty years ago, we are approaching five hundred fugitives listed. Almost a quarter of those individuals have subsequently been apprehended as a direct result of citizen cooperation.”

  Cassie scribbled on her notepad as the director continued. “The criteria for selection are fairly straightforward. First, the individual must have a lengthy record of committing serious crimes and/or be considered a particularly dangerous menace to society due to current criminal charges. Second, the FBI must believe that the nationwide publicity can be of assistance in apprehending the fugitive.”

  Lynch stopped to reach beneath the podium for the glass of water waiting there. As the director lifted the glass to her mouth, Cassie, sitting in the front row, noticed that Lynch’s hand was quivering. She can’t possibly be anxious about this, can she? Pamela Lynch was known to have nerves of steel. Cassie had watched her many times as she faced tough questioning about terrorism and unflinchingly defended attacks on FBI conduct. Why would Pamela Lynch be unnerved by a fairly routine news conference on domestic wrongdoing?

  “We have no picture of the individual that we are looking for. When we get one, if he isn’t apprehended first, I can assure you he will be elevated to the Ten Most Wanted List. As you know, no individual is placed on the Ten Most Wanted List without a picture.”

  I didn’t know that, thought Cassie.

  “Today we ask for national cooperation to help the FBI track down a new, as yet unnamed, member on the FBI’s Fugitives List. We are calling him Emmett Doe. The composite drawings you see here are based on the descriptions given by some of the victims of his crimes.”

  Flashbulbs popped and cameras whirred as Lynch gestured toward two blown-up images arrayed on easels. One was an artist’s rendition of a man’s face, the other was a drawing of the face of a frowning clown. The reporters murmured among themselves as they studied the grotesque, exaggerated features of the second drawing.

  “Emmett Doe is being sought for car theft and rape in Louisiana and Florida. These crimes occurred within the past six months. Doe is considered armed and extremely dangerous. We are asking anyone who has any information about this individual to, please, contact your local FBI office or, if outside the country, the nearest U.S. embassy or consulate.”

  Hands shot up in the audience.

  “Yes,” said Lynch, pointing to the CBS correspondent sitting beside Cassie.

  “Is there a reward being posted?”

  The director nodded. “The FBI is offering a reward of up to fifty thousand dollars for information leading directly to the arrest of this individual.”

  “You have the eye color listed as blue and brown. What does that mean?” asked another reporter.

  “Two of the victims say their attacker had blue eyes. The other victim reported brown. We’re not sure of the man’s true eye color.”

  Cassie raised her reporter’s notepad into the air. Pamela Lynch looked directly into her eyes.

  “What details can you give us about the rapes?”

  Lynch fumbled with her papers on the podium. “This individual raped a young woman from the Miami area last November. He struck again in New Orleans earlier this month. As you know, rape is a crime, but it is not a federal offense. So, technically, the rapes are not what earned Doe a place on this list. The fact is that Doe is a menace to society and we think the public can help us catch him.”

  Cassie had a follow-up. It seemed like the obvious question. “Will you explain to us the derivation of these artist sketches?”

  The director cleared her throat. “Ah, yes,” she answered. “The victims describe a man of medium height and build, who wore a grease-painted mask in the image you see here.” Lynch pointed to the clown poster. “FBI artists then tried to estimate what the man looked like beneath the makeup. This is what they’ve come up with.” She gestured toward the other easel.

  In the audience, the CBS correspondent leaned over and whispered to Cassie. “Pretty nondescript-looking face.”

  Cassie agreed. There was nothing distinctive about the face that glowered from the poster board.

  “Can you describe for us his M.O.?”

  The director took another drink of water before answering. “All three women were attacked where they lived, at night, after they had gone to sleep. The attacker tied them up and gagged them with their own undergarments. Then he”—Lynch stopped to swallow—“then he raped them at knifepoint. Afterward, he took their car keys. The abandoned vehicles were later found at city airports.”

  A new question: “How common is it for a rapist to disguise himself?”

  “It’s not common. Our Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico has found that the majority of serial rapists don’t dress in any special way. We’re trying to figure out what the significance of making himself up as a clown might have for this vicious individual.”

  IT WAS after five o’clock when New York finally gave script approval, leaving Washington less than an hour and a half to get Cassie’s piece edited. Cassie recorded her track and left her producer and videotape editor in the editing booth to finish putting the story together while she went back to her office and made another call to the
press information office at the FBI.

  “You’re on his list, Ms. Sheridan,” said the secretary, weariness in her voice.

  “This is the third time I’ve called. Please, have him get back to me. I need to speak to him before we air.”

  “I understand, Ms. Sheridan. I’ll be sure to give him your message.”

  AT SIX o’clock, Cassie sat in the makeup chair, being touched up for her live studio appearance scheduled at the end of her story. The stylist was spraying Cassie’s black hair when Yelena Gregory’s large frame appeared in the doorway.

  “I found someone else to have lunch with,” the news president said, smiling.

  “I’m so sorry, Yelena,” she apologized, totally bummed out that the press conference had forced her to cancel their third meeting to discuss the possibility of Cassie’s being elevated to the network’s premier newsmagazine show. “I hope we can reschedule something.”

  Yelena walked into the room and over to Cassie’s chair. “I have to fly back to New York right after the broadcast.” At the look of disappointment on Cassie’s face, Yelena reached out and patted the correspondent’s wrist. “Don’t worry, Cassie. Everything is a go. Business Affairs will be contacting your agent. We want you on Hourglass?

  CASSIE STRODE to the editing room and viewed the completed piece. It was well constructed, covering all the apparent bases. But over fifteen years of journalistic experience told Cassie that there was something else to this story. She had learned to trust her gut.

  The story was scheduled for the second news block, after the first commercial break. At six-fifteen, as Eliza Blake mounted the Evening Headlines anchor platform in New York, Cassie tried the FBI again. She didn’t call the bureau’s press office this time but instead called her friend Special Agent Will Clayton.

  “I’m on deadline, Will, and the press office isn’t returning my calls. I need to know, what was with Pamela Lynch this afternoon?”