Afterburn: A Kenzie Gilmore Thriller

by BIBA PEARCE

Kenzie glanced at hers. It was her source at the police department. She read the text and felt her heart skip a beat. Reid, who’d read his own text message, also appeared shocked.

  “She wasn’t raped,” whispered Kenzie, glancing up at him. The autopsy results had just come through. “It wasn’t the same MO as the others.”

  Reid met her gaze. “We’re looking for a different killer,” he said. “It wasn’t the Swamp Strangler.”

  7

  Reid had little to say on the way back to South Beach. Kenzie was also thinking things through. This new development was forcing them to look at the case from a different angle.

  “It could have been any one of them.” He pulled into the parking garage where Kenzie had left her car. “Bella, that PR woman, the other guests. Any one of them could have snuck outside and surprised Natalia in her suite.”

  “Are we saying she didn’t leave on her own, now?” Kenzie squinted at him.

  Reid pulled into a vacant parking spot. “Think about it. The Strangler may have intercepted her if she’d left on her own, but if we’ve ruled him out, it’s unlikely another serial killer just happened to come across her, strangle her, and dump her body in the swamp.”

  “Which brings us back to Snake’s theory,” surmised Kenzie. “That she was kidnapped from the hotel room sometime after eleven o’clock.”

  Reid turned off the engine but neither of them moved.

  “We’re going to have to go through that camera footage again,” he said. “We need to know if anyone left the party early.”

  “We know Bella did,” she said. “Her date took her home after the drunken argument with Natalia.”

  “Let’s speak to her and her date, if possible.” Reid was conscious of how many we’s he was using. He didn’t want a partner, but if he was going to do some preliminary investigative work on Natalia’s murder, he needed Kenzie’s connections. He didn’t have a badge to rely on. That was still in his lieutenant’s desk. “We need to check her alibi.”

  “I’ll set it up,” Kenzie said.

  “I’d also like to have a word with Natalia’s PR agent. She seemed pretty upset with Natalia at the party.”

  “I can get her details from Snake.” Kenzie pulled a worn reporter’s notebook out of her handbag and scribbled a few notes. “There’s something else.” She tapped the notepad with her pen.

  “What’s that?”

  “Whoever kidnapped Natalia knew she was alone in her room.”

  Reid nodded. “Yeah, I thought of that too. It must have been one of the guests. Someone who saw her husband take her back to the room and return to the party.”

  “Do you think it was a spur of the moment thing?” Kenzie frowned.

  “I’m not sure. Kidnapping someone like Natalia takes planning. If she’d been strangled and left in the hotel room, I’d say yes, it was more likely to be spontaneous. But with her body missing, making it look like she ran away.” He shook his head. “That says premeditated.”

  Kenzie was watching him. “In that case, the killer must have arranged for her to go back to her room early. Snake said she was woozy. Maybe he drugged her?”

  Reid, whose thoughts had been following the same lines, nodded. “Agreed. She complained of a headache. Drugging her would ensure she’d go back to her suite.”

  “It’s even more imperative we scrutinize that footage of the party,” Kenzie said. “We might see who doctored her drink.”

  They went back to the hotel, but the manager was far less cordial without his VIP customer around. “I’m afraid I can’t give you a copy of the recording,” he said. “Like I said before, our guests value their privacy.”

  “But we’ve already seen them,” insisted Kenzie.

  “You viewed them on the hotel premises,” Luis said. “If I release a copy, it could be on YouTube by sunset.” He looked her up and down. “Or in the tabloids.”

  “I work the crime beat,” Kenzie said stiffly.

  “Don’t sweat it.” Reid tapped her shoulder. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “It’s not like we were going to post it all over social media,” she fumed as they stomped away.

  “He doesn’t know that,” pointed out Reid. “Listen, I’ve got to go see Lieutenant Pérez this afternoon. I think I can get a warrant for the camera footage.”

  “You’re going back.” She fixed her clear gaze on him. “I knew it.”

  “Not permanently.” He stifled a grin. “I’m not going to be involved in the task force either, but I do have an idea that might work.”

  “Oh, yes?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He wasn’t going to say anything now in case the lieutenant didn’t go for it.

  She pulled a face. “You may have noticed that patience is not one of my strong points.”

  He couldn’t resist a chuckle. “See you tomorrow, Kenzie.”

  Fewer people raised their eyebrows this time as Reid walked across the squad room to Lieutenant Pérez’s office. He knocked, then entered after Pérez beckoned through the glass.

  “Does this mean you’ve agreed to come back?” Pérez took his glasses off and threw them down on his desk. His shirt was crinkled, and his hair was mussed up like he’d run his hand through it too many times.

  They didn’t relocate to the comfy seats this time.

  “Temporarily,” Reid replied.

  Pérez frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “I assume you’re not going ahead with a task force now that the autopsy revealed she wasn’t sexually assaulted.”

  “We are,” Pérez rocked back on his chair, a habit Reid remembered from before. “Sure, she wasn’t raped, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t our guy. Everything else is identical, down to the strangulation marks.”

  “Different MO, though.” Reid frowned.

  “There’s a number of reasons why he didn’t sexually assault her,” Pérez rationalized. “He could have been disturbed, interrupted somehow. Perhaps she lashed out, and he killed her before he had time to do it. Hell, perhaps he couldn’t get it up. Who knows?”

  “It’s possible.” Reid would give him that much. “But it’s also possible that someone else murdered her. Someone who wanted to make it look like she was a victim of the Swamp Strangler.” He grimaced as he said the words.

  Pérez stared at him. “You think this was someone else?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been doing some digging and there are a couple of people with motives. Her husband’s ex, Bella Montague, for one. She hated Natalia. Accused her of stealing her man.”

  “That doesn’t mean she killed her,” argued Pérez.

  “I’ve seen security footage of a party at the hotel where Natalia disappeared. Bella Montague had an altercation with the victim before she left the party. She had plenty of time to sneak back to the suite and surprise Natalia.”

  “I thought Natalia left that hotel by herself.” Pérez sprung up and paced the room. “Didn’t she take her stuff with her?”

  “Her suitcase and some of her clothes were missing,” Reid confirmed.

  Pérez spread his hands. “There you go. She walked out on her husband. Happens all the time, particularly amongst those celeb types.”

  Reid frowned. “I’m not so sure, boss. Normally, I’d agree with you, but Natalia was in love with her husband. I’ve spoken to several friends who confirm that. Even the victim’s father agrees, and he doesn’t like the guy much.”

  “You spoke to Rhys Arnold? Jesus, Reid. He’s the one insisting we put a team on this.”

  “I know. Listen, what do you say to this? Let me investigate Natalia’s death. It might have nothing to do with the other two murders. Your task force can concentrate on those, on finding a link between the two dead girls.”

  “And if it does?”

  “Then I’ll hand over what I’ve discovered,” he promised. “Anything to do with the Swamp Strangler, and your boys have priority.”

  Pérez thought for a moment, then he ope
ned the desk draw and took out Reid’s badge. He put it down on the table.

  “Welcome back, Detective.”

  8

  “You can’t work here.” Kenzie stalked around the cabin. “There isn’t even a decent Wi-Fi signal.”

  “I’ve got a desk at the precinct if I want it,” he said.

  “Do you want it?” She tilted her head to look at him. He was leaning against the deck, arms folded across his chest. He’d just told her he was officially investigating Natalia Cruz’s death. He’d been reinstated.

  “Not really. I’d prefer it if the rest of the department didn’t know what I was doing. It may become necessary to work with them, but for now I’d like to keep it under wraps.”

  “Aren’t they your old team?” she said. “Surely they’d be happy to work with you again. From what I hear, you were a great cop.”

  He snorted. “Who’d you hear that from? Your source at the department?”

  “No, not him.” In fact, her police contact hadn’t been very complimentary towards Reid. Quite the opposite, in fact. His animosity had surprised her. “I ran into Vic Reynolds last night. He was my father’s partner back in the day. He only had good things to say about you.”

  “Captain Reynolds was your father’s partner?” Reid’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “Yeah, when he was still on the force. They go way back.”

  “And you told him we were working together?”

  “Not exactly. I didn’t think that would go down too well. I told him I’d interviewed you about the body in the swamp.”

  “Ah,” Reid nodded.

  “He said it was a shame you left the force, and he’d always hoped you’d go back some day.”

  “Did he now?”

  She flashed him a grin. “And now you have.”

  He looked out over the water. “For now.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “See what?”

  “Your badge. I never got mine, you see.” She’d come so close. Only a few months left to go, and then the blasted accident.

  He took his badge off his waistband and handed it to her. It was heavier than she’d expected. The weight was reassuring in her palm. To think she’d almost had one of these. How different her life would have been. She’d been at the newspaper for nearly 10 years now. That was 10 years she could have been a cop, chasing down bad guys, putting scum behind bars. Fighting for justice for the victims of crime. Victims who’d gone missing, whose bodies had never been found. Victims like her mother. Yet all she’d done was write about it.

  Sighing, she handed it back.

  “You could reapply?” he offered, correctly reading her expression. She’d noticed that about him. He was good at reading people. A skill honed over a decade of service, no doubt.

  “I’ve got metal pins holding my left knee together,” she said. “I’d never pass a physical.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  She shrugged. “I came to terms with it a long time ago.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Car wreck. Three months before I was due to graduate.”

  He grimaced. “That’s tough.”

  “Yep.” Tough was an understatement. It was the day her world had fallen apart, the day her dreams had been ripped to shreds. The weirdest part was she couldn't even remember most of it. The drive home. A screech of tires. An ear-splitting crash. Colored lights flickering through her subconscious. Muted voices.

  “Kenzie, can you hear me?”

  “Shit, she’s not responding.”

  “Somebody call an ambulance!”

  Then waking up in the emergency ward. Visits from her colleagues at the academy. Concerned faces and well wishes, but there was nothing they could do. There was nothing anyone could do. Her left knee had taken the brunt of the smash. It was destroyed. It took three surgeries and four months of rehab to put it back together again.

  “Anyway, listen. You can work at my place if you want. I have fast internet, cell phone signal, and air conditioning as a bonus.

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? I’m usually at the office, anyway.”

  He hesitated.

  Was he worried he’d be crossing the line? Working in her home meant he’d be in her space. Less able to do what he wanted. One thing she’d learned about Reid Garrett in the short time she’d known him was that he was fiercely independent.

  “The thing is, there might be information I can’t share with you. I’m officially a detective again. This isn’t a team effort anymore.”

  Was he serious? After they’d come this far?

  “I don’t see why. We want the same thing. We’ve got the same goal. To see Natalia’s killer brought to justice.”

  “Kenzie, that’s not how it works. Cops and reporters don’t pair up and solve crimes.”

  “Well, they should,” she huffed.

  “And you can’t write about this investigation. Not until it’s over.”

  “But…”

  “I’m sorry, Kenzie. I did warn you this would happen.”

  “What about the camera footage? Can I see that at least?”

  “I’ve requested a warrant. I’ll let you know if I find anything,” he said.

  “That's it? After I got you into the hotel? After we interviewed Snake and Rhys Arnold together? You’re going to ditch me, just like that?”

  “I don’t want to, but I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation. You know that. This”—he waved his hand between them—“puts me in a very difficult position.”

  “I’d say these are exigent circumstances, wouldn’t you?”

  “Not really. I’m grateful for your help, but I can’t be your primary source. Everything we discover is going to go straight into the Miami Herald.”

  “Why am I here then?” She threw her arms into the air. “I thought we were going to talk to Bella Montague today. Unless you don’t want my help with that?”

  He stood on the deck, legs apart, arms still folded, clearly at odds with himself.

  “What if I promise not to submit anything without your approval?” She hated herself for saying that. Usually she refused to be censored by anyone, particularly law enforcement, but if it meant working the case with him… “I won’t mention the investigation. I’ll have to post updates, but you can sign off on those. When we bust this case open, I get the exclusive. That’s the deal.”

  He pursed his lips. “You promise you won’t publish a word without my consent?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I swear.”

  His penetrating gaze bore into her, and she knew he was asking himself if he could trust her. She met his gaze head on, her own clear and sincere.

  “Okay,” he breathed, finally. “But not a word to anyone. If this gets out, I could get into deep shit.”

  “My lips are sealed. No one will know we’re working together.”

  His phone buzzed. He glanced at it. “Warrant’s come through.”

  “Great, why don’t you pick up the recording and meet me at my place? I’ll text you the address.”

  He hesitated, but only for a moment. “Okay, see you in an hour.”

  They must have watched the video at least five times. Kenzie’s eyes were burning by the time she looked away from the screen.

  “I give up. I can’t see anyone leaving the party after Natalia goes to bed.”

  Reid scratched at his eyes. “I haven’t seen anything obvious, yet someone must have. Nobody tampers with her drink, either. She gets handed it by the barman, sips it until Bella comes up to her and hisses something in her ear. They exchange a few harsh words, then Bella’s date leads her away. She finishes the drink, then 20 minutes later tells her husband she’s going back to the room.”

  “What if whatever made her groggy wasn’t in the drink?” wondered Kenzie.

  Reid frowned. “Where could it be from? As far as I can tell, she ate one or two canapés, the same
thing everyone else was eating. Those couldn’t have been touched, otherwise there’d be a bunch of people with headaches and dizziness.”

  “True.” Kenzie thought for a moment. “What about earlier? When she first arrived at the party. She had a glass of champagne to relax.”

  “I saw the bartender open the bottle,” Reid said. “Still, I guess it’s possible someone slipped something into her glass. I can’t see any evidence of it, but she’s not always in the frame. There are a few instances where she’s out of sight of the camera.”

  “Maybe the killer knew where the cameras were located,” said Kenzie. “Or is that a stretch?”

  “No, could have surveyed the venue beforehand. We don’t know who we’re dealing with yet.”

  “What do you say we take a break and talk to Bella Montague? I told her agent we’d be coming round today, so we shouldn't leave it too long.”

  “Does she know what it's about?” asked Reid.

  “I told her the paper wanted to get her take on Natalia Cruz’s murder.” Kenzie smiled. “She thinks it's a publicity thing.”

  “Bella’s staying at the Four Palms Hotel,” Kenzie told him as she climbed into the passenger seat of his Ford pickup. He hadn’t mentioned going in two separate vehicles, so she assumed he was okay with it. Reid seemed more relaxed around her now, less distant. He wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but he’d accepted it. They needed each other.

  “Doesn’t she live in Miami?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I don’t know why she’s at the hotel. Perhaps she’s there for an event or a shoot or something.”

  Reid parked across the road and they walked into the lobby of the Four Palms. It wasn’t as snobby as the Sand Club, and the receptionist smiled at them as they walked up. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re here to interview Bella Montague.” Kenzie showed her press ID card.

  “Yes, of course. If you’ll take a seat in the lounge, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  “Thank you.” Kenzie led the way to a chic lounge area outside of the lobby. Comfy leather chairs were dotted around the room, interspersed with lush indoor plants, and lit by recessed lighting.