by G. K. Parks
“The hell with that.”
“Liv,” he gave me a look, “it’s after midnight. The techs have done what they can. We have a ton of interviews lined up tomorrow. We’ll leave the rest to the boys who just got on shift.” He jerked his chin at the captain’s darkened office. “He ordered me to go home hours ago, and unlike you, I’m not Teflon. I don’t want my ass chewed in the morning.”
I scratched my eyebrow and logged off the computer. “Yeah, okay.”
He put on his jacket and turned off his monitor. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Actually, I’m going to wash up first. You go on ahead.”
“Are you staying at the cover apartment?”
“Might as well. Kincaid’s boys probably know where I live, so I gotta make it look good. Who knows, maybe one of them will come knocking.”
He stared into my eyes. “You need me, I’m there.”
“Let’s hope that’s not the case.” I gave him a small smile. “But if I do call, will you be sober enough to drive?”
“For you, anything.” He clapped my shoulder and headed for the stairs.
I watched him leave, and then I dug through my desk drawer. After finding my toiletry kit, I went down to the locker rooms, washed the gunk off my face, and changed clothes. For a moment, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. A soul left this earth tonight, and I had no idea who was responsible. But I would find out.
Six
“You’re in early,” Brad said, and I jerked upright. “Jesus. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He put the second cup of coffee down on my desk and took a seat. “You look like hell.”
I struggled to straighten my neck. “Nothing an hour of hot yoga or a full body massage won’t fix.”
“Don’t tell me you stayed here all night.”
“Okay.”
“But you did.” He glanced into the captain’s office. “Did you get any kind of blowback?”
I shook my head.
Officer Roberts overheard our conversation and snickered, exchanging jokes with three nearby uniforms. My jaw muscles clenched, but I resisted the urge to turn around and say something. It was easier to pretend I didn’t hear it, but my partner heard it.
“Show some respect, Officer,” Fennel ordered. He moved to get up, and I put my hand on his arm to stop him. It wasn’t worth it, at least not at this particular moment.
“Yes, sir,” Roberts said. The group moved away, and I sighed.
“Asshole,” Fennel muttered. “You can’t let them get away with that.”
“We’ve talked about this before,” I reminded him. Before I could say anything else, my desk phone rang. “Detective DeMarco,” I answered.
After Fennel left last night, the phone never stopped ringing. The tip line was surging with useless intel. Apparently, half the city thought they spotted at least one of the cars and wanted to know if there was a reward. So far, every single call had been a bust.
“Damn, I misdialed. I was thinking about a brilliant brunette I know and must have called you instead,” Logan Winters teased. It was a joke meant to rile my feathers, but he couldn’t bait me. The assistant district attorney liked to flirt, but it never went beyond a few words here and there. He thought he was charming. I thought he was desperate.
“Well, hang up and try your call again.”
He laughed. “I wanted to apologize for our little tiff and was wondering if you could stop by later.”
“Probably not. I’m in the middle of an investigation. Is it pressing?”
“It’s about our missing witness.”
“Did you find him?”
“Not yet. I had a thought and could use your help.”
I blew out a breath. I had to focus on my case. Finding the witness would have to wait. “I’ll call you as soon as I have some time.”
“You’re sure you won’t be free later?” He sounded hopeful. “I’ll buy dinner.”
“Sorry, in the event I have some spare time, I’ll be manning the tip line and fielding calls from perverts.”
“In that case, I should ask what you’re wearing.”
“Four layers of sweaters under a big puffy ski coat.”
“You’re such a buzzkill.” He let out a long exhale. “The judge granted a continuance, but if I can’t put Crane on the stand, the case will get kicked. We have to figure something out. We can’t let a killer go free, but I guess that’s up to me. You catch them, and I make sure they stay caught.”
“That sounds about right.” And now I felt guilty and responsible. “As soon as I get a handle on this current situation, I’ll do whatever I can to help you locate Crane. Okay?”
“Good luck, Liv.” He hung up, and I put the phone back in its cradle.
“DeMarco, Fennel,” the captain called from his office, “get in here.”
My partner and I exchanged a glance and stepped into Captain Grayson’s office. As predicted, he wanted an update on the situation. He sat with his fingers steepled, absently tapping them against his chin as we spoke. When I was finished telling him my theories on Kincaid and his crew, my interaction with Becca, and the texts on Fox’s phone, my partner took over the briefing.
The captain swiveled in his chair. “Do you have the vehicle information?” Fennel handed it to him, and Grayson skimmed the details. “Anything else that might be useful?”
“Not that we’re aware.” I glanced at Brad to make sure we were in agreement.
The captain sighed. “I just got a call. Three more cars were reported stolen. They weren’t as high-end as these,” he flicked the file, “but they could be part of the five, assuming the text message was accurate.”
“Was anyone hurt?” I asked.
Grayson shook his head. “We don’t even know exactly when the cars went missing. They were reported stolen this morning. The victims are being questioned now, and I have people checking nearby traffic cams to see if we can pinpoint when it happened. Our surveillance team said Kincaid never left the club last night.”
“He keeps an apartment above Spark,” I said.
Grayson nodded. “Even if Kincaid isn’t directly involved, his crew might be. And we can’t account for their whereabouts.”
“Unfortunately, Fox and Emilio have an alibi until around midnight,” I said.
“See what you can dig up on the rest.” Grayson nodded at the door, and Brad and I filed out.
Fennel checked the time. Juan Rodriguez’s family should be arriving any minute. Mr. Stevens and Mr. Hart made appointments around lunchtime, using the excuse they were busy men. They probably didn’t even care their cars were stolen. It was just like Becca said; they could afford to buy new ones, even without their insurance payouts.
Going to the computer, I researched stolen vehicles. Since Captain Grayson just heard the news, I wasn’t sure if the crimes had been logged yet. After refreshing the page a few times, I found them. Two luxury sedans and an SUV had been stolen. I printed the vehicle registration information and opened another database, hoping to find a connection between those three thefts and the two from yesterday, while Brad continued to search for any ties between the victims.
“Did you have time to look into the previous thefts like I asked?”
Brad nodded, but his eyes remained on the computer screen. “Seven luxury imports have been stolen in the last three months. Kincaid has an airtight alibi for two of the thefts but not the others. I asked around and dug through the reports, but as far as I can tell, no other thief operating in the area has the skills needed to get away with stealing cars like that. If it happened once, I’d say it was a fluke. But not seven times.”
“So it has to be Axel or someone he trained.” My thoughts went to Fox and Emilio. “We need to figure out if Stevens or Hart has any connection to Axel.” Given their financial portfolios, I had a feeling they might be members of Spark. But before I got sidetracked, I needed to find out more about the other three cars that were stolen during the night.
I found the serv
ice history on the vehicles and hoped something important would turn up. “Hey,” I held out the owners’ names, “run those and see what you find.”
“Sure.” Fennel did some quick typing. “Stacy Smith owns one of the sedans and has a dozen different traffic violations, and Ryan Hodges was involved in a fender bender. But neither of those incidents link to Hart or Stevens or the thief. The SUV is registered to a company that provides car service specifically to and from the airport. As far as I can tell, the victims don’t have any common enemies.”
“Hey, look what I found.” I spun my monitor around so Brad could see it and hit play. DOT footage showed a tow truck loading the SUV onto the bed and driving away. We watched the footage a few more times for any indication of who the driver might be. “Can you make out a plate?” I asked.
Brad squinted. “I don’t think there is one.” He grabbed his phone and requested additional information from nearby cameras. “Freeze it there.” He pointed to the screen. “At least we have a name.” Towers Wrecker Service.
I pulled up a business profile, but Towers Wrecker went out of business five years ago. “Dammit.” I slammed my palm on the desk. Maybe we could figure out who bought the tow truck when the business went under, but it would take time, just like everything else.
“I’ll get someone to pull titles and ownership records.” My partner placed the request and looked at me. “I’ve been meaning to ask why you and ADA Winters are so buddy-buddy lately. Are you getting tired of slumming it at the precinct? Or did he finally grow a pair and ask you out?”
“He asked if I could help him locate Crane. He has a few theories where Crane might have gone, but they’ve turned into dead ends.” I glanced at the phone. “Winters might have come up with something else to try, but it can wait.” I gave Brad a sideways look. “You think he likes me?”
My partner chuckled. “Do you want me to pass him a note during study hall and find out?”
“Ha ha. Get back to work.”
An officer nodded to Brad, and he swallowed. “Speaking of which, it’s showtime.” He slipped his jacket on and tidied his appearance. This was always the worst part of the job.
I pushed away from the desk just as the phone rang again. “DeMarco,” I said, surprised to hear my best friend’s voice.
“Liv,” Emma said, “a woman was just brought in. No ID, but she had your card in her boot.”
“Shit.” I rubbed my eyes. “What does she look like?”
“A street-walker who got caught in a meat grinder. You need to get down here,” Emma insisted.
Brad looked at me. “Take care of that. I’ll handle this.” He disappeared into the conference room, and I grabbed my bag.
Expecting the worst, I drove straight to the hospital. My stomach twisted in knots. My gut knew what I’d find, but I hoped I was wrong. A dozen working girls had been given my card at one point or another. It could be anyone. It didn’t have to be Becca.
“Liv,” Emma called the moment I stepped into the ER. She waved me over to patient intake and buzzed me through the door, saving me the trouble of flashing my badge. “Hey, girl.” She hugged me. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been weeks. I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances, though.”
“Yeah, me too.” I glanced around. “Where’s the patient?”
“She just got out of surgery. Broken jaw, cracked ribs, a skull fracture, and a shattered ulna. She’s going to be out a while. The docs haven’t ruled out brain damage, but they can’t say for sure.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know. We called it in. Some rookie is still filling out the paperwork. He ran her prints, but he never gave us a name.”
I rolled my eyes. The police department was always stretched too thin. “Let me see her.”
Emma led the way to recovery. She pointed at a door, and I peered in the window. Even though it looked like her face went through a wood chipper, it was Becca.
“Her name’s Rebecca Johnson.” I sunk against the wall, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Did she have any cash on her?”
“No.” Emma crouched in front of me. “Whoever did this took everything, except your card.”
“It’s called sending a message.” I took a deep breath and straightened. “How did she get here?”
“I think someone dropped her off.”
“Point me in the direction of the responding officer, and I’ll take it from there.”
Emma gave me a look. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll let you know after I find the animal who did this.”
Seven
He took a sip of his coffee and watched the detective walk through the automatic doors. She moved with a stiff gait, her pallor a sickly pale. After she tucked the phone away, she stopped near a trashcan and heaved, her body jerking violently. She wiped her mouth and straightened, a newfound determination in her eyes.
A frown tugged at his lips, and he put the coffee down, studying the blisters on his fingers from the crowbar. Feeling the stiffness from the repeated hits, he rotated his shoulder. He hadn’t slept in a day and a half, and the fatigue was starting to wear on him. He couldn’t remember how many times he struck the whore. It was all a blur.
He nearly lost control, but he stopped himself, remembering she needed to be taught a lesson. Talking to the police was not acceptable. The only reason he drove her to the hospital was to make sure the police discovered what he’d done, but now he had to scrap another car. At least he was smart enough to use the SUV from the heist. It made one less he’d have to part with.
He sighed, rethinking his actions. Maybe he should have killed Becca. The only reason he didn’t was because he wanted to send a message to the detective, but from the look on Liv’s face, she was too dense to understand. He would make her understand. He would make the entire force understand. If they continued to fuck with his operation, he would fuck with them. At least the assault would keep the detective distracted and off-kilter. He couldn’t afford for her to realize what was going on.
He pulled out of the parking lot before she even made it back to her car. First, he would lose the SUV. Then, he’d get some sleep. He had a big night planned.
* * *
After leaving the hospital, I went back to the precinct and updated Captain Grayson on the situation. Matters were escalating. We had to get on top of this. Even though I was a cop, trained to gather evidence, work out new leads, and spend countless hours performing computer searches and follow-ups with witnesses, my partner would have to handle most of it on his own. Since I was the only one who had access to Axel Kincaid and his crew, I had to find out what they knew.
Fox and Emilio saw me with Becca last night. They left before I did. Maybe they found her and asked what we really talked about. Maybe they nearly beat her to death because they believed she found another dealer to feed her addiction. Either way, they were my best bet. And as soon as I could place them in her vicinity, we would bring them in. Maybe we’d even get enough for a warrant, and then we could see exactly who texted Fox and what those messages said. It was a lot of ifs, and I didn’t hold out much hope.
“Hey,” Brad grabbed my arm just as I made it to the stairwell, “we spotted the same white SUV from the hotel parking garage dumping Ms. Johnson outside the ER. We still didn’t get a plate, but techs are working on enhancing the image. Hopefully, we’ll be able to ID the driver.”
“At least we know we’re on the right track. I just wish Becca told me what she knew. If she…” My throat tightened. “Maybe I pushed too hard.”
“She’s your CI. She knew the risks. And I know you. You didn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to.”
“Didn’t I?” Another wave of guilt washed over me.
“It’s not your fault, Liv.” He squeezed my arm, the compassion eking from his eyes. “Grayson’s keeping a team on standby. We’ll do our best to keep you in our sights without compromising your cover, but you need to be careful out there. These are
dangerous stakes.” His light brown eyes stared into mine. “If you have to break cover, do it. We’re not just dealing with car thieves. We’re dealing with a sadist who’s already killed once. He won’t hesitate to do it again.”
“Newsflash, Fennel, we trained for this. Remember? Plus, the doctors don’t know if Becca will make it. We might already be looking at two murders.”
“Yeah, well, we won’t let him get to three.” Someone called to Brad from the bullpen, and he turned to acknowledge them. “I’ll drop by later to fix your fridge or install your cable or whatever the captain comes up with. We don’t want to leave you alone and vulnerable.”
“Too bad. I’m the only one invited into the lion’s den. And since Becca had my card, he knows we’re on to him. I just don’t know if I’ve been blown.”
“As soon as we get verification Mr. Hart and Mr. Stevens are members of Spark, we’ll bring Axel in for questioning.” He handed me a switchblade. It was against department policy, and I gave him a confused look. “Support will be a minute out, but a lot can happen in a minute. Don’t take any chances, partner.”
He turned to leave, and I called after him, “If I find you in my apartment, you better have dinner on the table.”
“Fine, but first I have to see a man about a horse.” He winked at me over his shoulder. “How do you feel about mystery stew?”
“With that horse comment, I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”
It felt wrong leaving the precinct. There was so much we had to follow up on. The hotel had no way of deactivating Juan’s keycard remotely, so our killer had the run of the place if he desired. Because of this, two patrol units were permanently stationed outside, and the system was being monitored. If the asshole used the keycard, we’d find out and grab him.
Detective Fennel didn’t get anything useful out of Juan’s parents, but they gave us access to their son’s computer. The cyber unit was in the midst of a deep dive, but we were operating under the assumption Juan Rodriguez just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing indicated otherwise.