by Cynthia Eden
Joel did the same. “How long have you known Chloe?”
Ruben pulled open one of the drawers. It screeched. “Since she moved to the area.”
That wasn’t a clear answer.
Ruben kept humming faintly even as he strummed his fingers over the files. When Ruben didn’t speak again, Joel pushed, “You’re not going to tell me more?”
Ruben glanced up. “Do you want to know more?”
Fuck. “Please,” he gritted. The guy obviously loved those magic words.
“That sounded painful.” Ruben scooped up two files. “Grating. I mean, sexy, in a Vin Diesel kind of rough and deep way, but maybe if you use that particular word with Chloe in the future, you could try to make it sound a bit softer.”
“Why the hell would I use that word with Chloe?”
“I could not imagine.” Ruben was back in front of him. Blinking all innocently. “Maybe when you ask her to please go to bed with you?”
He snatched the files. “That shit won’t happen.”
“Because you’re not interested in Chloe.”
“Because I’m working with her on a murder investigation, not trying to get her in bed.”
“Like you can’t multitask. You were a surgeon.”
He tuned Ruben out—tried to, anyway—and read through the file on Ray Malone. “You don’t mention any skull fractures or contusions.”
“That’s because there weren’t any.”
“Ray Malone’s blood alcohol level was sky high.”
“Guess Ray never learned a lesson about drinking to excess. Even though he killed his wife when he got behind the wheel.”
“If he was as drunk as this tox report says, then when the killer came for him, he wouldn’t have been able to put up much of a fight.”
“No, he wouldn’t have. I don’t even know that he was conscious when the blows occurred. No sign of defensive wounds on him, either.”
“But he suffered the same rough pattern of injuries on the C1 to the C4 area of his spine.”
“He did. Oh, and here is something fun. There wasn’t enough blood spatter in the car to match his wounds. Cedric noticed that. I think the killer did most of the attack outside the vehicle, then he staged the body in the car.”
Joel absorbed that info. He flipped open Gregory Guidry’s file. “Broken jaw. Heavy facial injuries.”
“Yes, he was the vic who sustained the worst injuries. No skull contusion, but—”
“He was found right inside the doorway of his house. He answered the door.” Joel tried to picture the scene. “Guidry opened the door, a bat swung at him, hit him in the face, and he went down.”
“Carpet fibers were discovered beneath his fingernails. If you look at the crime scene photo, it would appear he tried to crawl away from the attacker.”
“Until the attacker started pounding on his back.” Same freaking injury pattern. “Always at the top. C1 to C4. The bastard knows what he wants to hit. He knows why he wants to do it.” The attacker wanted his victims absolutely helpless before he killed them. Damn. Joel handed the files back to Ruben. Started to walk away. Stopped. “Thank you.”
Ruben beamed at him. “Was that so hard?”
“Did Chloe read all of your files?”
“Yes.”
“And what did she say?”
“She’s the one who told me the weapon was probably a bat.”
Joel was betting Chloe knew a whole lot more than just what type of weapon had been used. “Why do you think she wanted me in here?”
“Because Chloe doesn’t like dead bodies.”
He thought it was more than that.
Ruben threw a quick glance at Joel. “Oh, I have to ask, have you been to the Mob Murder House yet?”
“Excuse me?”
Ruben wiggled his brows. “Chloe’s place. Or…the place that her last boyfriend gave her. Whatever.”
Whatever?
“That big-ass mansion near Audubon Park? You know the history of it, don’t you?”
“I have no idea about the place’s history.” He’d just hauled his stuff there and hadn’t even unpacked.
“Been owned by an infamous mob family since the early 1900s. But the last owner…word is that he just gave it to Chloe. They had some kind of relationship. Lasted a while. And as a thank you…” He wiggled his brows yet again. Made them practically dance. “The dude gave her the entire house. Do you know how much a place like that has to be worth?”
Her ex had given her the house?
“I figure it has to be worth four million.” Ruben nodded. “Give or take a few hundred grand.” He pursed his lips. “For a man to give a woman a place like that as a gift, she sure has to do something special. Ahem. Now do you see why you might want to at least practice saying please?”
Chapter Ten
“Are you testing me?”
Chloe didn’t jump when Joel spoke. She’d heard the creak of the floor. Her gaze remained focused outside of the window. From this vantage point, she had a perfect view of the parking lot. And Joel’s motorcycle.
Cedric had called her a few moments before. Richardson was on his way over.
That meant it was time to wrap things up.
“Did you finish checking out the body?” Her fingers pressed to the glass. She liked the smooth, warm feel of it beneath her hand.
“Yes. But you didn’t need me to do that, did you? I bet you already have all the facts you need.”
She turned toward him.
Ruben stood just behind Joel, behind and a little to the right. Where. Did. You. Find. Him? Ruben mouthed.
“In a bank storage closet,” she replied.
Ruben’s eyes widened.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Joel demanded. “No, wait. It’s just a distraction. You do that. You distract me a lot. Throw out random shit to keep me off balance.”
“Don’t you appreciate that? Do you truly want to get lost in your past again?”
He stalked forward. Stopped only when he was right in front of her. “I don’t like feeling as if you’re playing with me.”
“I am not playing.” She grew sick of people thinking that was all she did. Did it look as if she was a child, playing with toys? “I wanted your take on the body. Wait. That’s not one hundred percent true.” Chloe blew out a breath. “I wanted to know what you thought of the killer.”
Joel jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Ruben conducted very thorough exams, but you know that.”
“Thanks for noticing,” Ruben replied, all demure-like. The man was never truly demure. “It’s good to be appreciated.”
She frowned at him.
He glanced away. Chloe was pretty sure he smothered a smile.
“Ruben already knows plenty about the killer,” Joel continued roughly. “So…what was this? You just wanted to make sure I still understood basic human anatomy? I wasn’t going to see anything he didn’t. Certainly nothing you hadn’t already figured out.”
“I do figure out a lot,” Chloe admitted.
Ruben snorted.
Joel’s eyes narrowed. “Then you were just—”
“Ruben…” She raised her voice. “Tell me what you think about the killer and his attacks.”
“Blitz attacks,” Ruben replied promptly. “A powerful initial blow, one that left the vics incapacitated, then a wild surge of hits to follow that. The bodies were covered with bruises. Broken bones. I think the FBI would call him a rage killer. Unorganized and—”
Joel gave a slight, negative jerk of his head.
What she’d been hoping to see. “You don’t think there was rage involved?”
“Hell, yes, there was rage. You don’t beat men to death without rage.” And his head inclined toward her. Voice a whisper, carrying only to her, he breathed, “Is that why you wanted me in there? Because of my personal experience? You wanted to see if I thought the guy felt the same way that I—”
Her hand rose. Her fingers pressed to his chest. Right
over his heart. “It’s not about how he felt. Or how you felt. It’s about the attack. Do you think it was a wild surge? Bruises and broken bones just randomly everywhere on their bodies until the vics died?”
“No.”
“This scene looks…” Ruben’s voice seemed overly loud. “Personal. And I do have another visitor coming, so how about you two take this to a different location? Joel has some magic words he wants to try on you and—”
“Fuck off,” Joel said.
She frowned at him. “That’s very rude. Ruben is someone I consider a friend. You shouldn’t say—”
“Ruben, please fuck off for a moment.”
Ruben laughed.
She shot a quick glance at him. Why were Joel’s words funny? No, no, she didn’t have time for this now. Her hand pressed a little harder to Joel’s chest as she focused on him. “Wild surge or not?” she asked, her voice clipped.
“Some of it was, sure. Once he had his victims like he wanted them, the perp went crazy. Delivered as much pain and damage as he could.”
Once he had his victims like he wanted them…
“But it wasn’t all wild. In fact, I’d say it was pretty damn organized. In each kill, he damaged the top of the spine, C1 to C4…the section that would lead to the most extensive paralysis. He pounded and pounded there. The bruises and the bone damage are the most severe for all vics in that area. He knew exactly what he was doing. There were no bruises or damage to the spine below the C8. Because, I think, after he had delivered what he thought was enough injury to the upper spine, when his vics couldn’t move, then he flipped them over. The rest of the bruises were all on the front sides of the body. The vics couldn’t fight back, and he made them watch as he beat them to death.”
All of the moisture had dried in her mouth.
“Brutal and sadistic.” His jaw was clenched. “But that’s how some people are, right? The freaks out there. The ones who like to rip your world away and give you nothing but pain and hell. Nightmares that won’t stop. You can’t breathe. You can’t sleep. Because even after you stop them, even after you send them to hell, the memory is still there, it’s—” Joel broke off. Seemed to catch himself because he knew he’d revealed too much.
Tension stretched in the room.
“I should have fucked off,” Ruben finally mumbled. “You even said please. I should have walked away. Didn’t mean to get in your business…But, I mean, it is my office. My desk right there. My window and…” His voice trailed away.
“In your professional opinion, did the killer knowingly target that particular area of the spine on all the vics?” Chloe asked Joel as she tried to get him to leave the shadows of his past and come back to her. “Was it just the swipe of a blunt instrument against the spine, or was it deliberate to—”
“It was deliberate. Deliberate and focused attacks between C1 and C4 that would result in paralysis. My belief is that the killer wanted his targets unable to fight back.”
She swallowed and glanced over at Ruben. “Do you agree?”
“I…noticed the injuries to the upper spine, but I didn’t realize they were so controlled. I mean, controlled considering, you know? Not until Joel started focusing so intently on them.” He nodded. “Yes, I would agree. The killer knew what he was doing when he targeted the spine. It’s his technique.”
“His signature.” She could hear the growl of an engine outside. Richardson had arrived. His car was overly loud. Probably should get a tune-up. “Feel free to share all of this information with the FBI.”
“Um, you know I work for the coroner’s office? You get that? It’s my legal duty to share this information—any information that I have—during the course of an investigation.”
“Of course, it is.” She raised her brows at Joel. “Are you ready? We have other stops.”
A hard nod.
“Excellent work.” Chloe hurriedly advanced for the exit. “I am most—”
“You already knew all of this. I bet you knew when you first read Ruben’s report. Why the hell did you go through this whole circus with me?” Joel demanded.
“Because even I can be wrong. And I wanted your opinion.” She paused beside Ruben. “Thoughts?” she whispered.
He smiled at her. Leaned forward and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Then he murmured, his breath brushing over the shell of her ear, “Watch yourself with him. I don’t think he will play nicely.”
Why was everyone so obsessed with playing? She didn’t play.
“He’s not the type to say please and thank you,” Ruben noted softly. Then he chuckled.
She didn’t get the joke, but she did get the warning. “See you on Sunday. Our usual date spot.”
He nodded. “You know it.”
Chloe strode briskly down the hallway. She was aware of Joel following her steps. The sooner they got away from the antiseptic and bleach and the bodies, the better she would feel. She shoved open the door and sunlight spilled onto her. Waning sunlight. She’d lost a big portion of the day to the FBI briefing and to the exam with Ruben. She’d also slept far later than she’d intended, but her crash after the night’s events had been considerable.
Richardson barreled toward her.
She gave him a friendly wave and didn’t slow down. “Visiting a friend. You know how it is. Oh, wait. You don’t. I don’t think you have many friends.”
He snarled at her.
“Watch it,” Joel barked right back.
She reached the motorcycle. So did Joel. Joel towered over her. She could feel Richardson’s eyes on them.
“You’re gonna tell me soon why you hate him so much,” Joel murmured.
She considered the matter. “I can do that.” It seemed fair. Especially since Joel had shared so much with her. It wasn’t as if she could tell him her real secrets, and as far her dislike of Richardson? That was certainly public knowledge.
He climbed onto the motorcycle. When she’d ridden with him before, she’d held onto him too tightly. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. She’d hold herself back. There was no need to plaster her whole body against his. She could put a little space between them.
“What are you waiting for?” He offered her a helmet.
She took it. Popped it on her head. Settled in behind him.
“Your hands need to be around my waist.”
She knew that. Absolutely. That hold balanced her the most, though she could always put her hands behind—
“Scared, Chloe?”
Her arms curled around his stomach. “What would I possibly fear when I’m with you?”
“You could be scared…of me.”
Her head turned. She saw Richardson staring at them. No, not them. At Joel. His head was cocked, his eyes narrowed, his face tense.
“I’m not scared of you,” she told Joel. “You were hired to keep me safe, weren’t you?”
“And here I thought you just wanted me for my brain.” He revved the motorcycle’s engine.
“That, too.”
“Where are we going this time?”
“Back to the strip club.” She needed to see that alley before all the light was gone.
He laughed.
Richardson’s frown grew worse.
“How did I know you were going to say that place?” Joel asked.
Because you’re thinking like my partner.
He shot them away from the curb. She could still feel Richardson’s eyes. And she didn’t like the way he was watching Joel.
***
“Why the hell did you talk to Chloe Hastings?”
“Well, hello, Agent Richardson. Great to see you again. I’m good. Thanks so much for asking. Had a bit of a sinus infection earlier this week but—”
“Chloe.”
“I talk to Chloe all the time. She’s one of my closest friends.”
“Chloe Hastings has no friends. She only has people that she uses to suit her own purposes.”
“Um. I guess we can agree to disagree.” He
motioned toward the dead body. “Want to examine him? Or go through the other patient files? Or maybe you just want me to cut to the chase and tell you what Chloe and Joel figured out before they left? Would that help? You know, your usual routine. The one where you use the data that Chloe collects in order to make yourself look good.”
Richardson’s eyes became slits. “Why did she bring Dr. Landry here with her?”
Ruben rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “Because they’re dating? Because the guy is hot? I don’t know. Ask her.”
“Did he look at the body?”
“Yes. A doctor looked at the body.”
“You’re compromising evidence chains. You’re exposing—”
Ruben put up a hand. “Slow your roll. The police chief called and told me to cooperate with Chloe. I stayed in the exam room the entire time. Nothing was compromised, I assure you. Now, do you have questions about the vics or not?”
He snatched up the files.
“Signature,” Ruben said.
Richardson’s gaze shot to his.
“I’ll, um, need your signature on some paperwork before you leave.”
“Smartass…That’s not what you meant.” His jaw locked as Richardson gritted, “What did Chloe say about the killer’s signature?”
“He paralyzes his victims. Focuses on the upper portion of the spine. It’s only after he’s completed the injuries to that portion of the anatomy that the killer goes on to—”
“Did she figure that out? Or was it Landry?”
There was a distinct edge to Richardson’s voice. “Does it matter? They are a team.”
“Who noticed the signature first?”
“I…Landry. But you know Chloe. She probably had already figured—”
“I know Chloe.” A grim nod. “I know she likes to screw around with killers. One of these days, she’s going to regret that tendency. You lie down with killers, you get more than blood on your hands.” He stormed for the door.
“Uh…what else do you get?” Ruben called. “I mean, when you, ah, lie down with killers if you get more than blood on you, what else is it that you—”