“Wait up.” Dave was half running, half jogging to catch up. “The place ain’t on fire.”
“No, but I am.” I took the steps two at a time, slowing when I reached the bottom, and waited for Dave. Worthington’s attitude had opened another wound and fresh wave of guilt because of my own prejudice toward Crimson and her death.
Dave reached the bottom of the stairs and held out his hand.
I placed the car keys in his palm. “I’m sorry. You and Greg can come back later and ask the questions.” I pushed open the doors, and we headed for the car. Dave was a great partner, and I loved him because I didn’t have to explain all the stupid stuff I did. “I’ll buy lunch.”
He unlocked the car and grinned at me across the top. “I’ll leave the tip.”
CHAPTER FOUR
It was close to three in the afternoon, and Arlene had finished the lunch rush, leaving most of the restaurant empty, which suited our purposes. Greg was already there and had secured a table in the back.
“Do you guys ever use your office?” Greg shook his head. “I heard Park say something about giving it away.”
I glanced at Dave and grinned as he pulled out a chair for me before taking a seat next to Greg. “This is our office. We’ll order, work out a plan, then split up and hit the streets.”
“How long are we planning on working?” Dave asked.
“As long as it takes to find Emily Greenwell.”
Arlene approached with a fresh pot of coffee and cups. “You three look like you could use this.” She placed the cups on the table and filled them. “Something different today or your regular? We’ve got peanut butter pie for dessert.”
“Burgers and fries? I’m buying.”
Dave nodded. “A big piece of that pie for me since Kacy’s buying.”
Greg picked up a menu. “Well, in that case…”
I glared at him, and he laughed. “Burgers and fries are fine. No pie.”
Arlene hurried away, and I passed my phone to Greg. “Take a look at the scene pictures and give us your thoughts.”
“Is that Sicily James?”
I nodded. “Her landlord said she was getting married and moved out three days ago.”
“Some type of weird ritual going on. Do we have a cause of death yet?”
“One of the many things we need to follow up on. I’ll check with Myriah while you two see if you can find any working girls that knew Sicily and Emily. Someone has to know where they moved to.” I gave Dave a sheepish grin. “And since I screwed up the interview with the landlord, you might take a run at him again. My gut tells me he was lying.”
Greg passed back the phone as Arlene placed three plates on the table. “Anything else?” She smiled at Dave. “I’ll bring your pie out when I refill your coffee.”
“Thanks, Arlene. We’re good.” I stored the phone and waited until she moved away from the table. “Sicily had a two painted on her forehead, and I’ve got a really bad feeling Emily is our number one. The killer also left a message about a body a day, so we’re not going to have a lot of downtime on this one. We need to find Emily quick and warn the other girls to be careful with their dates.”
Dave pulled out his notepad and pen. “Top priority: find Emily. Second: warn the girls to be careful.” He took a bite of burger and chewed thoughtfully. “Won’t be any girls on the street for a few hours yet. Greg could go back to the station and run the murder through the databases to see if similar crimes happened in other areas while I tackle the apartment complex.”
I pushed my half-eaten burger and fries away and picked up my coffee. “We need a cause of death before we do that, and we need to find that first body.” As lead detective, I was supposed to make the calls, and I’d really screwed up at the apartment building by blowing a fuse. “I don’t trust Worthington, and I’ll feel better if the two of you go there together. I’ll see how Myriah is doing with the autopsy.”
Dave handed me his keys. “Okay, but I’m not leaving until I finish my pie.”
I shoved back my chair and glanced at my watch. “You better hope that first body isn’t on top of another hill. Check in around five, and we’ll decide where we’re going next or if we’re going to call it a day.”
Stopping by the counter, I paid for our meals and gave Dave and Greg a quick wave before heading out. I hoped Myriah was in and I wouldn’t have to deal with Matt Sims again. He was probably a nice guy, but his way of handling the stress of his job by cracking raunchy jokes left a bad taste in my mouth.
The trip was short, and I parked next to the building. The ME’s office was open twenty-four, seven, but I always liked to give them the courtesy of a call before barging in. The phone rang six times before a breathless Myriah answered. “Medical Examiner.”
“It’s Kacy, Myriah. Mind if I have a word with you about our latest victim?”
“I can buzz you in, but we don’t have much yet. Matt is just finishing up the pictures, x-rays, and fluid collection. I was getting ready to suit up if you want to join me.”
The burger and fries began a painful swimming motion inside my stomach. The last thing Myriah needed was me vomiting all over the scene. Dave would never let me live that down. “Just ate, so truthfully, I’d rather not. Any clues to cause of death yet?”
“There’s a needle mark at the base of the neck, but until toxicology is run, I can’t give you a definitive answer about cause of death. I can tell you death was imminent, as someone removed her liver within the last week.”
I shuddered and swallowed hard as icy fingers closed around my chest, making it hard to breathe. “Wouldn’t that have killed her?”
“Not necessarily. You can live for a short time, and if healthy, even up to a year without your liver. The eventual decline in health is unbearable and leads to an ugly death. Kacy, if you want to talk, you really need to come in. I’m backlogged, but because of the two on her forehead, I pushed this one to the front.”
“I’ll pass. Give me a call as soon as you’ve finished the autopsy.”
“Will do.”
I tossed my phone on the passenger seat and sat for a moment, contemplating what I knew and didn’t know. Redwine had said the Baykok preyed on warriors. Sicily believed she was getting married. I was pretty sure the groom wasn’t a former client. Crimson wasn’t really a prostitute; she was looking for her child. So what was Sicily into?
I started the car then screeched out of the lot, heading for Fremont. If luck was on my side, Dave and Greg would still be there and I wouldn’t kill Worthington before he answered some serious questions. Sirens blared in the distance, and my hands tightened on the wheel as I realized they were heading in the same direction I was taking. I reached for my phone and speed-dialed Dave.
“Capello.”
“Hey, it’s me. What’s up with all the sirens?”
“I was just getting ready to call you. Worthington’s dead. Where are you?”
“On my way.” I ended the call and slipped the phone in my jacket pocket.
Emergency vehicles were blocking the driveway to the parking lot, and I whipped into a space across the street. I could think of only one reason for killing Worthington. I’d screwed up big time by letting my guilt and anger take over. I should have just pistol-whipped the bastard and made him talk.
Flashing my badge to the uniform guarding the door, I entered the dark interior. Dave was waiting for me a few feet in. “I’ve got Greg and a couple of uniforms questioning all the renters to see if anyone heard anything.”
“Where’s the body? And why is it so dark in here?”
“Somebody cut the electric in the hallway and left the light on in one room. They wanted the body found. I don’t think it’s coincidence anymore, Kacy.”
A chill washed through me as my eyes strayed down the hall to Crimson’s old apartment. I walked toward the light, my heart pounding, beads of sweat breaking out on my forehead. Dave was wrong about one thing. I didn’t charge the enemy because I wasn’t afraid. Mo
st of the time, I was terrified I was going to piss my pants if I didn’t get it over with quickly.
The apartment had been restored but was still unfurnished. A huge armchair had been placed in the middle of the living room. George Worthington was seated in the chair, blank eyes staring at the ceiling. I walked around the body, vaguely aware of Dave speaking with someone behind me. There were no restraints on the arms or legs. So what happened? Did Worthington just sit in the chair and let someone shoot five arrows into his chest?
“Forensics is on their way.”
I leaned in close to peer at the arrows. Only minimal blood had leaked around the wounds. “I think he was already dead when he was shot.”
Dave scratched his head and stared around the room. “No Christian clues this time. Maybe the cases aren’t connected.”
“And they just happened to leave the body in the apartment where Kyle was living and Crimson was killed?” I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. “Come on, Dave, I need your brilliance on this one.”
“Not enough blood to be the murder scene.” Dave pursed his lips. “Wasn’t anything in the rest of the apartment. No signs of blood or a struggle.” He headed for the door. “Let’s check out his office. I was getting ready to do that when you called.”
The office door was unlocked, and Dave flipped on the light as we entered. “Doesn’t look like this is the place, either. Wonder how they turned the lights off in the hallway but left them on in the room and office?”
“Didn’t Worthington say the bottom floor was being renovated due to water damage? He also strikes me as the type to turn off the electric to an apartment if the rent was late. He probably had a switch for each unit.”
Dave nodded. “Besides the office, there’s only three units on the first floor.” He tossed me a pair of gloves. “Want to check out the other two?”
“Do we have a choice?” I slipped on my gloves. “The killer made it easy for someone to find Worthington’s body, just like he did Sicily. I’ve got a really bad feeling about victim number one.”
It didn’t take long to find the murder scene. The apartment next to Crimson’s was lined with plastic over the carpet, a pool of blood stained the flowered sofa, and a syringe lay on the coffee table. “I think we found our murder weapon.” Dave handed me an evidence bag, and I dropped the syringe inside. “And I don’t see any water damage or remodeling going on.”
We did a quick walk-through of the rest of the apartment, the only sign of habitation the unmade bed. Dave opened the closet. “Looks like this was Worthington’s apartment.” He pointed to the uniform shirts. “That, or else he used it to change when he got here.”
“Let’s go.” I headed for the hallway at a sprint. The cold, clammy fingers of the dead gripped my intestines as I approached the last door on the left. Whatever Worthington’s part in this was, he’d lied to us earlier, and I wasn’t going to shed any tears over his death. It was the thought of what was behind door number three that had my greasy lunch inching its way up my throat.
There were times when I hated being right. The door was locked, but a key was lying on the floor in front of the room. I swallowed hard as I picked it up, inserted it, and opened the door. Dave’s whispered “Jesus” seemed to echo in the hallway as I flipped on the light. The room was empty, except for the locks of long blond hair on the floor. The bloody walls captured my attention and started a pounding in my chest as I struggled to breathe. Happy Birthday, Kacy. I left your present at 107 Trent Avenue. It’s time to dance with the devil.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I sent uniforms to check it out.” Dave ran a hand through his hair. “Told them we’d head that way.”
I nodded and turned away from the bloody scene. “I parked across the street.”
“I think we should call Park, fill him in on what’s going on, and line up some protection for you.”
Greg joined us outside the room. “You guys want to catch me up to date on what you’re talking about?”
Dave nodded toward the door. “Take a look but don’t go in.”
I heard the sharp intake of Greg’s breath as he read the bloody message. “It’s your birthday?”
“Yeah, happy birthday to me.” I dug the keys out of my pocket and passed them to Dave. “You’d better drive. We’ll leave Greg’s car here and pick it up later.”
Matt Sims was entering as we walked toward the front. “Is there a full moon tonight, or what?”
“The sun’s still shining, Matt.” I stepped aside to let the photographer and forensic team in. “Once you finish with the body, the other two rooms are murder scenes.”
“Damn, we’ll be here all night.”
“Look on the bright side. You’re still alive.” I pushed my way through the doors into the afternoon sunlight and took a deep breath before heading across the street. “Let’s get moving.”
“It’s no longer coincidence, Kacy.” Dave unlocked the doors, and I slid into the passenger seat. “And these aren’t random killings.”
“I get the bloody message, but would somebody please fill me in on what I’m missing?” Greg took the back seat and slammed the door. I could feel his frustration. Dave and I had that special connection that made talking unnecessary in most cases, which often left Greg in the dark.
“The next body is located in the house we stored Simon Wilson in.” Dave started the car, flipped on the sirens, and picked up speed.
“Nobody knew that but you, me, Simon, and your CI. Simon and your CI are dead. The cases can’t be connected.” There was no conviction in my statement, and I wasn’t convincing Dave anymore than I was convincing myself.
“You’re forgetting the cabbie.”
I had forgotten the cab driver. “The odds of my cab driver running into a serial killer and just out of the blue telling him about the rich bitch detective in a mink coat visiting a drug overdose at 107 Trent is about as realistic as that ancient Baykok demon roaming around and eating his victims’ livers.” The words were no sooner out of my mouth than I realized I’d forgotten to tell them about Sicily. “I forgot to tell you, Myriah said someone removed Sicily’s liver.”
“What the…” Dave mumbled something under his breath and took a sharp right turn. “Anything else you forgot to tell us?”
“Nope.” I continued to stare out the side window. “Did you get a chance to interview any of the other residents, Greg?”
“Worthington’s death took priority, but the only ones who answered their door were just getting out of bed. They didn’t hear anything.” Greg leaned forward in the seat. “I’m still kind of lost here. Are we connecting the current murders to your brother’s case?”
Dave slid to a stop behind a local cruiser.
“Maybe.” I yanked off my seat belt as Greg climbed out and opened my door. “We’re not going to jump to conclusions, though.”
A young officer was seated on the porch, his face unnaturally pale as two officers cordoned off the crime scene. I flashed my badge and ducked under the tape. Something about the officer’s body language tugged at my heart. I’d been young and vulnerable once. A hundred years ago. “Detective Kacy Lang. Did you find a body?”
He raised his head and nodded, light-blue eyes glazed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dave and Greg had followed me but were waiting for instructions. “Greg, call for an ambulance and have”—I glanced at the name tag—“Officer Jefferson checked out. Then see if you can contact Myriah.”
I nodded to Dave and stomped up the steps. “Let’s go, partner.”
“Hope I don’t come out of here looking like him,” Dave whispered.
I stepped through the front door, stopped to gulp air, and closed my eyes. “Jesus.”
“I’ll second that.” Dave took my arm and turned us both back to the porch. “Let’s take a minute.”
“What kind of monster does something like that?”
“Demons.”
“Shit, Dave, don’t start that again.”
Greg was climbing the steps, and I waved him off. “You don’t want to go in there. Did you reach Myriah?”
“She was already on her way.”
I sat down on the top step, and Dave flopped beside me. “I know what you’re thinking, Kacy, but we should let him work the scene with us. We’re supposed to be training him.”
“I know.” I glanced to where Greg was standing turned away from us, his back straight. Park had promoted him to detective last month, but only with the caveat that Dave and I train him. “I threw up on my first case, and it wasn’t as bad as this one.”
Dave shrugged. “He has to get it out of his system eventually.”
Myriah’s car pulled to the curb, and I rose. “Should we warn him?”
“Anybody warn you on your first case?” Dave hefted himself off the step.
“No.” I waited until Myriah suited up. “Greg, tell the officers if anyone else arrives to have them wait until we’ve walked the scene.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was tinged with anger.
It wasn’t the scene I’d hoped to train him on, but Dave was right. “Guess it’s time to pop the kid’s cherry.”
Myriah joined us at the base of the steps. “Whose cherry are we popping?”
I nodded to Greg. “Do you care to give us a minute or two to walk the scene? Our partner is in training.”
“Mind if I watch?” She glanced at our feet. “Have you been inside? You should be wearing foot cover.”
“It’s not the murder scene. That’s back at the apartment complex.”
Myriah pursed her lips, and I sighed. “All right. We’ll suit up, and no, we didn’t go inside.”
“That bad?”
“Worse.” Greg was standing near an officer, his back stiff. “Greg, grab three sets of footies from the car and join us.”
“Gloves too,” Dave added. “I don’t like the way Officer Jefferson looked. He could have touched something inside.”
Dishonorable Death Page 3