“We appreciate that, Greg. I’m not here to cause Buddy any trouble. Is he here tonight? I would like to talk to him about getting a look at some of your surveillance tapes.”
“He’s not, but the manager, Pepper, can help with that. I’ll send her over.” Greg jerked a stubby thumb over his shoulder. “Would you and the lady like a seat up front?”
Kyra jabbed him in the side with a sharp elbow.
“I think a place in the back will work.”
“You got it.”
Jake insisted on paying the cover charge although Greg was more than happy to let them in, gratis. Then a scantily clad hostess led them to a table in a dark corner, away from the hootin’ and hollerin’.
His gaze wandered to the stage where a woman in a cowboy hat and not much more was slithering around a pole. He tipped his head toward the dancer and whispered to Kyra, “Do you think you could do something like that?”
She slid her hand up his thigh, and his muscles coiled. “Are you planning to install a pole in your bedroom?”
He swallowed. “That could be arranged.”
She laughed, a low, throaty sound that made him hard. “Actually, that’s becoming quite the exercise trend among suburban housewives.”
“Birth rate going up in the suburbs?”
A waitress came to their table. Jake ordered a beer, and Kyra ordered a fruity cocktail.
“That’s a first for you. Thought you were a beer and wine girl with the occasional margarita thrown in there for girls’ night out.”
She tapped his arm. “I’m not likely to get a swizzle stick with beer or wine, am I? Or did you already forget the purpose of this little foray to the dark side?”
“Quick thinking, but you need to give this boy a break. My senses have been overwhelmed from the minute you paraded out of your bedroom in that outfit.” He leaned in close, inhaling her sweet scent. “I’ve had one thing on my mind ever since.”
Before their drinks arrived, another woman visited their table. Dressed in black slacks and a white oxford shirt, she straddled a chair and snapped a card in front of Jake. “I’m Pepper, the manager. Greg told me who you were. You want our video footage?”
Jake slid his own card across the table. “Depends on your swizzle sticks.”
“Excuse me?”
Their waitress returned, and as she set their drinks in front of them, she said, “Can I get you something, Pepper?”
“No, thanks, Anna.” Pepper flicked a finger toward Kyra’s drink, indicating the rainbow-colored swizzle stick sporting a cherry and a chunk of pineapple. “Does that meet your approval?”
Kyra dislodged the fruit from the stick and held it up. “This is the one.”
Jake asked, “Do you know of any other clubs or bars in the area that use these particular sticks?”
“Couldn’t tell you, but they’re kind of unique. We order them special from a place in Albuquerque.” She waved her hand with its black-tipped nails in the air. “They fit our decor.”
“Then, I think we’ll want that footage.”
“You got it. Can I ask you why?”
“I’m sure you get a lot of regulars here, huh?” Jake’s gaze swept the room, and his gut knotted at the thought of some psycho getting his kicks here after killing women.
“Oh, yeah.” Pepper ran a hand through her short, red hair. “All kinds.”
Kyra stirred her frothy drink. “Anyone get handsy with the women?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“We wouldn’t mind talking to a few of those women and hearing about their experiences.” Jake tapped the side of his beer bottle. “Doesn’t have to be tonight. We’re here doing a little reconnaissance. We can set up formal interviews later, and I’ll send someone over on Monday with dates and times for the footage.”
“Hope we have it all for you.” Pepper stood up and pocketed Jake’s card. “We do tape over.”
“Hold off on that for now.”
“Will do.” Pepper rapped her knuckles on the table. “Drinks on the house?”
“Sorry, can’t accept that, but we appreciate the offer...and your cooperation.”
When Pepper left the table, Kyra puckered her lips around the straw and took a sip of her drink. “Shouldn’t get our hopes up. That stick could’ve been on the ground when Copycat Three dumped the body. The victim could’ve had it in her back pocket.”
“I realize that, but from hanging around Quinn you must know about a detective’s gut feelings.”
She patted his belly. “You have it about this?”
“I’ve had it ever since the coroner placed that swizzle stick in my hand. Felt it even more when Jansen cornered me.”
“I trust your instincts.” She pointed her straw at the stage. “You don’t seem that interested in the entertainment.”
He grabbed her hands. “I’ve got all the woman I need right in front of me.”
A dancer sidled up to their table and dipped beside it, her long brown hair swinging over her shoulder. “I’m Barbi. Pepper told me you were a cop interested in our clientele.”
Jake asked, “You have a story?”
“A regular. He’s a weird dude. Kinda scary.”
“Scary how?” Jake kicked out the chair. “Can you sit down for a minute?”
She glanced over her shoulder and perched on the edge of the chair. “When he comes in, he usually requests a lap dance from me. Even in the private rooms, the men aren’t supposed to touch us, unless we allow it, but this guy...”
“What does he do, Barbi?” Kyra hunched forward, putting on her therapist’s voice, inviting all kinds of confidences.
“He—he likes to put his hands around my throat.”
Jake clenched his fists under the table. “Does he hurt you?”
“I have a panic button, and I had to push it once. Security came in and kicked him out.”
“That must’ve been terrifying.” Kyra patted the other woman’s hand. “He should be banned.”
“There’s something else. Both times he did it, he called me a different name.”
Jake froze for a second. “Was it Juliana or Carmela?”
All the color drained from Barbi’s face. “It was actually Jenna, but is that what this is about? Copycat Three?”
A pulse throbbed in Jake’s throat. “You’re familiar with the killer?”
Barbi placed a hand over her heart. “Not only am I familiar with his crimes, the guy I’m talking about came in here late all hyped up on the same nights as the murders.”
Chapter Twelve
Jake almost pounded the table but didn’t want to startle an already nervous Barbi. “He was here two nights ago?”
Barbi nodded. “He was here tonight.”
Jake gripped the edge of the table. “Is he still here?”
“No, he left about an hour ago.”
Jake exchanged a look with Kyra. They’d arrived just about an hour ago. Had he spotted them? “Barbi, can you get away from here and talk to us? I can let Pepper know, if you like.”
“I’m sure she’ll be cool with it. There’s a diner across the street that’s open all night. I can meet you over there once I change.”
Jake paid the tab, added to the bill to cover the two-drink minimum and left a large tip. After alerting Pepper that they’d need the security footage from tonight ASAP, he steered Kyra out of the club and they crossed the street to the diner.
They nabbed a booth in the back and ordered coffee.
As Jake curled a hand around his cup, he said, “If he was there, he saw us. He already knows what I look like.”
“He may not come back to Candy Girls, but surely they know his identity, have his credit card receipts.” Kyra poured cream in her decaf coffee. “Still, for all we know, Barbi’s weirdo might just be some creep who gets off on threatening women. He wouldn’
t be the first or the last.”
“And a swizzle stick from the club he frequents ends up at a dump site for one of the victims? I can’t wait to ID this guy and check his alibis, his phone records, his computer.”
Kyra put her hand up and wiggled her fingers. “Barbi just walked in.”
The woman who approached their table in jeans, sneakers and a hoodie looked like a college student. She adjusted her glasses and slid into the booth next to Kyra.
Jake said, “Thanks for meeting with us. Coffee?”
“Lottie knows what I like.”
Barbi waved to the waitress behind the counter, and she called back. “You want the regular, hon?”
Barbi nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. When she turned her attention back to Jake, she said, “I’m glad you came in. I never called the police because I thought I was overreacting. I didn’t want to be laughed at.”
“We never laugh at possible tips. We get thousands. It’s our job to figure out what’s viable. Not yours. How and why did you make the connection between your customer and the murders?”
“I’ve been following all of the copycat cases. In my line of work, you need to watch your back. For Copycat Three, I noticed his victims all had long, brown hair.” She flipped her own long, chocolate-brown locks over her shoulder. “I also know he strangles his victims. This guy, Mike is his name, is strange. He always comments on my hair. When I give him lap dances, he wants my hair over my shoulders, and then he put his hands around my neck twice.”
Jake tapped a fingernail against his cup. “So, you checked his appearances against the dates of the three murders?”
“I didn’t have to dig that much. I keep a notebook of my lap dances for tax purposes.” Barbi shoved aside the silverware as the waitress brought her a vanilla milkshake. “When the third woman was murdered the other day, I noticed the coincidence and it gave me a chill.”
“Do you know Mike’s last name?” Jake had pulled out his phone to take notes.
“Afraid not. I don’t even know if Mike’s his real name.” She held up a perfectly manicured finger. “And before you ask, he always pays cash. You won’t find any bar receipts for him.”
“But we will see him on camera.”
“For sure. I can identify him for you.” She stirred her milkshake with a straw. “How did you tie him to Candy Girls?”
When Kyra opened her mouth, Jake nudged her foot under the table. They’d already told Pepper. They didn’t have to announce it to everyone. “We’d rather not say right now.”
He questioned Barbi for another half hour. She had her stuff together and would make a great witness if they got that far. After the interview, Jake and Kyra walked Barbi to her car, and then returned to his.
Back behind the wheel, Jake said, “This evening turned out even better than I expected when I saw you in your leather pants.”
“The night is still young.” She trailed her fingernails along his forearm, and he shivered at the promise.
He started the car and pulled out of the lot. “I am going to have to hit the station again tomorrow. I need to get all this info out and send someone over to collect the video from Candy Girls. Barbi said she’s available to view it.”
Kyra fluttered her lashes better than any one of those Candy Girls. “I promise not to keep you up too late.”
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Jake left Kyra asleep in his bed as he got on the phone and ruined a few weekends. He didn’t know how he was going to let Kyra go back to her own place. Now that they knew The Player was still alive and had his sights set on Kyra, Jake wanted to keep her by his side always.
He put a call in to Fiona and almost dropped the phone when she answered after two rings. “I wasn’t sure you’d be up this early.”
“Who said we ever went to bed?” He heard giggling in the background.
“Man, you just ruined it. How long are you staying at Lyric’s today? Is all your schoolwork done for tomorrow? You have one more week to hit it hard online before I put you on a plane back to your mother’s and back to regular school.”
“Until I come back for Christmas?”
“Yeah, you’re still coming for Christmas. I think you handled yourself well this week. I—I’m proud of you.”
“Aw, thanks Dad, and yeah, I’m done with homework until my teachers pile on more tomorrow. I even got some help from Lyric’s brother on my algebra this weekend.”
Was she piling it on too thick? His hinky meter twanged. “Really?”
“Lyric had some math homework to finish before her mom let the other girls come over, so we worked with Ocean.”
“You worked with what?”
“Ocean, he’s Lyric’s brother.”
“Figures.” Jake glanced up as Kyra came down the staircase in one of his T-shirts. “I can pick you up this afternoon.”
“That’s okay. Ocean can give me a ride back. He likes driving down Sunset.”
What young man didn’t? “All right. Keep me posted. I have some work to do today, but I’m available at any time to pick you up if you change your mind—or if Ocean does.”
“Okay. Gotta go. Love you.”
The back of his eyes prickled. He didn’t hear that from her too often.
“I love—” She’d already hung up and cut off his words. God, he needed to say that more often, too.
Kyra climbed onto the counter stool next to him and yawned. “Is Fiona okay?”
“She’s going to hang out with Lyric until this afternoon.”
“Lyric? That’s a pretty name.”
“You don’t even wanna know what her brother’s name is.” He pushed away from the counter and moved toward the stove. “I made eggs, I’ve got coffee going and I can make some toast.”
“Sounds good.” She tapped his notes on the counter. “Working hard already?”
“The task force is excited about these new developments.” He pounded his chest. “I can feel it in here. We’re close.”
He didn’t tell her about the other feelings he had—the sense of dread that had been hanging over him since they’d found out Laprey was The Player.
Someone had suggested that maybe The Player had given the information about the yellow diamond wedding ring to someone in prison, and that person was the one trolling message boards. Jake didn’t believe that. The Player had never told anyone about his crimes before this.
“I hope so.” Kyra held her hair back with one hand as she took the plate of eggs from him. “I don’t know how long I can stay on high alert.”
“Have you checked your security system yet this morning?”
“I’ve barely opened my eyes. Haven’t even looked at my phone, yet.” She speared a clump of eggs and waved the fork toward her purse on the floor next to the couch. “I didn’t charge my phone last night.”
“Hope it’s not dead.” Jake carried his coffee mug into the living room and retrieved her purse. “You also left your gun in your purse.”
She dropped her lids halfway over her eyes and said, “I had other things on my mind last night...and other forms of protection.”
“Don’t remind me about those other things, or we’ll never make it out the door this morning.” He swung her purse onto the counter, and she pulled out her phone.
“Still juiced.” As she cupped her phone in her hand and scrolled through messages, Jake’s work phone rang, the jangling sound that always got his heart pumping when he was in the middle of an investigation.
He glanced at the display before he answered, tapping the speaker function at the same time. “Tell me you nailed the SOB, Billy.”
“Not yet, but we ID’d the third victim. Her name is Sydney Walsh. Found her car blocks away from a bar downtown, purse and dead cell phone in the car. He must’ve snatched her there, like the other two.”
“Gettin
g the security footage from the bar and the street?”
“On it. The lot where she parked her car doesn’t have any cameras, but there’s a bank across the street. We’re going to be looking at their ATM camera. Maybe we can catch something from that.”
“Family here?” Jake shifted his gaze to Kyra, who’d dropped her fork.
“I don’t think so. Roommate reported her missing. Tell Kyra I’ll send her the family contact when I get it. Good work, last night, by the way. Hopefully, Sydney will be Copycat Three’s last victim.”
“I sent Vickers and Moreno out there to retrieve the video. They’ll review it with Barbi this afternoon. I was going to have them grab the footage tomorrow, but once Barbi told us Mike had been there last night I expedited the request.”
Billy asked, “What are the chances his name is really Mike?”
“Most likely slim and none, but you never know. He probably didn’t think we’d be tracking him back to Candy Girls.”
Billy lowered his voice. “How was Candy Girls, anyway? I heard the girls there are first-class hot all the way.”
Kyra cleared her throat. “Hi, Billy. It’s Kyra.”
“Damn, J-Mac. Can’t you warn a brother?” He coughed. “Hi, Kyra. I meant to say, I heard there were some fine young women working there.”
“There are. One of them just might help you catch a killer.”
Jake finished some business with Billy and ended the call.
“Now I have an excuse to go into the station today.” Kyra ate the last of her scrambled eggs. “I’m going to start working on resources for Sydney’s family and friends. Is that okay with you? I have to be near the action, Jake.”
“I know you do, and it’s fine with me. You are part of the task force.”
“Aren’t you glad I brought my own car? Now you can head off to work anytime you like, and nobody will be the wiser.”
Jake threw back the rest of his coffee. “Don’t kid yourself. Everyone already knows we’re sleeping together.”
As he turned, Kyra put her hand on his arm. “Is it more than that?”
He pulled her off the stool and whispered against her lips, “It is for me.”
The Bait Page 15