by Lisa Olsen
Owens shot him a dirty look. “Fuck you, Gibson. What am I, an intern? I’ll be outside.”
Nick couldn’t blame him, the place was already starting to give him a headache. Park and Brady peeled away from the door to approach him after that. “Where’s the body?” Nick asked, breathing through his mouth.
Park jerked her head toward the bathroom. “In the bathtub.”
“Bathtub, huh?” Nick commented, trading a look with Brady. “Naked?”
“As the day she was born,” he confirmed.
“Let me take a peek.” Nick brushed past them to stick his head into the bathroom. Dr. Libby Fielding crouched beside the body, a plastic bag in one hand, a pair of long tweezers in the other. “How’s my favorite M.E.?” he called out.
“Too busy to shoot the breeze right now, Gibson,” she replied, hazel eyes flicking with the briefest of annoyed glances in his direction before she returned to her task.
“Understood.” Everybody was so crabby. Beyond the fact that the girl matched the general physical type of the other three murders and the similar cuts on her wrist, he couldn’t see any sign of the band’s symbol marked on the body anywhere. Stepping closer, he craned his neck to get a better view, earning a look of flat out disgust from Libby.
“Can I help you?” the medical examiner demanded, clearly thinking he was getting a cheap thrill out of looking at the naked body.
Nick’s hands came up in defense. “I’m looking for tattoos. Which I see right there on her thigh. Relax.” Despite his very valid reason for sticking his head in there, her attitude didn’t thaw. “Why don’t I see myself out, huh?”
“Yes, you do that, or I’ll consider a word with Captain Quinn over your level of professionalism.”
“Jeez, what’s bothering her today?” Nick grumbled as he met his team in the outer room again.
“Maybe she doesn’t like having someone staring over her shoulder while she works?” Park pointed out with a hint of censure, and Nick decided to ignore it. Fielding hadn’t objected when both of them watched her work from the doorway. Still, it wasn’t the first time he’d had to work with frazzled nerves on the job, so he pushed on.
“Do we have an ID on the body?”
Brady pulled his notebook out. “Yes, her name is Hayley Lambert. We found her purse with money and debit card still intact.”
That ruled out a mugging or drug deal gone bad. Chances were her purse would be the first thing to be rifled through. “What do we know about her?”
“Just the basics so far. Caucasian female, twenty years old. Never been arrested, no record of any kind, so there’s not a lot to go on. She’s a student at Clackamas Community College and lives at home with her parents and younger sister in Milwaukie.”
“Any witnesses?”
“In a place like this?” Brady snorted. “No.”
“We still have to try,” Nick pointed out. “We’ll have to canvas the area, see if we can dredge up any kind of video surveillance or anyone who saw the vic coming or going.”
“It’s already being done, sir,” Park replied. If Nick didn’t know better, he might’ve thought for a moment that she resented the question.
“Good work,” he said, hoping to smooth over any ruffled feathers. “What about the manager?”
“He vaguely remembers her,” said Brady. “The vic checked in on her own, paid cash, and he didn’t see anyone else with her. He does remember she paid with a hundred dollar bill, but that’s about it.”
“Around what time was that?”
“He wasn’t entirely sure, maybe two or three a.m. He’s not the best at keeping records,” Brady smirked.
Nick gave a slow turn, but there wasn’t all that much to see in there. “No signs of a struggle,” he murmured. “Anything else?”
“One thing I noticed, sir,” Park spoke up. “All of the towels are missing.”
“Huh,” Nick said, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip for a moment. “Let’s find out if there were any in here to start with, or if they don’t provide them as a rule. Christ, it stinks in here,” he grimaced, heading for the front door. “Let’s see if they all reek like this or if it’s particular to this room.”
He was two steps away from the door when Brady caught him by the arm, the usually affable detective bristling with anger. “That’s all we get?”
“Huh?”
Brady didn’t let go, his fingers digging into Nick’s arm. “That’s all you have to say? What’s the deal here, Gibson? First you tell us to be on the look out for suicides involving slit wrists, and now you’re looking for tattoos. What do you know that we don’t?” he demanded.
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose until the urge to blister Brady’s ass for open insubordination passed. God, his head was seriously starting to pound. “Guys, it looks like we’ve got that latest in a string of murders.”
“I knew something was up,” Brady scowled, letting go of him with a shove. Park looked no less upset over the news.
“And this is the first we’re hearing of it, sir?”
Seriously, what the hell was up with everyone’s attitude? Deciding he didn’t owe them shit, he stalked outside and busted through the crime scene tape, not giving a flying fuck if they followed him or not. Nick continued across the parking lot, nostrils flaring as he took in his first deep breath since arriving on the scene. Leaning against the trunk of his car, he waited for them to approach him like civil human beings.
Park and Brady emerged seconds later, but stopped to have a word with the CSU unit that just arrived on the scene. They stood talking outside for a few minutes before approaching, Brady’s face schooled into a mask of contrition and Park’s composed as usual.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he began. “I got no call to question you. Do either one of you have any aspirin? My head is pounding like a mother.”
“I’ve got something,” Park replied, digging in her purse and coming up with a pair of Advil, taking two herself. Nick was about to ask for some as well when he realized his headache was already starting to clear.
“It’s fine, we’ve all been there. And for the record, I didn’t inform you of the situation because we had no hard evidence to suspect we’d have another murder up here. The others took place down in Los Angeles.”
“But there was something, right? That looker who came to see you the other day.”
“That’d be Special Agent Natalie Fox.”
“She’s with the Bureau, sir?” Park asked in surprise.
“That’s right. We’re sitting on murder number four, and you’re right, you do deserve to hear all about it. But first I want to catch Libby, if I can talk to her without her biting my head off.” Loping across the parking lot, he caught up to the petite brunette peeling off her gloves and shoving them irritably into her pocket.
“Hey, doc,” he said carefully. “What’s the good word?”
Libby didn’t bother with pleasantries, not even when Brady and Park joined them. “Time of death looks like roughly between two and six a.m.,” she reported. “I should be able to narrow it down once I get her on the slab. Is there some reason we’re looking at this as a murder? Because it looks like she slashed her own wrists. I’m not seeing any defensive wounds and I’m thinking this has been a huge waste of my time.”
Ignoring her complaints, Nick pressed for what he needed. “Is the razor in there with her?”
“It is. I’ve already got it tagged and bagged.”
Nick spoke loud enough for Park and Brady to hear him easily. “I’m willing to bet we’ll find the prints wiped clean on the razor and GHB in her system. Run a full tox screen on her, okay? And also, maybe check that tattoo out. All three other victims had the same tattoo, different locations, but the same general size and thickness. Try and see if there’s anything special about the ink or if there’s any way for us to try and track down where she got it.”
She seemed doubtful, but he could tell he’d pricked her curiosity. “Fine. Anything else you wa
nt to tell me how to do my job on?”
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Nick offered a cheesy grin until the corner of her mouth twitched, just barely.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.
“Thanks, Libby.” Nick’s grin stretched wider as she thawed. “You come through for me on this one and I’ll love you long time.”
A roll of the eyes was given as she climbed into her car. “Promises, promises…”
Satisfied that she wasn’t about to lob a scalpel between his shoulder blades anytime in the immediate future, Nick turned back to his team.
“Why do I feel like this case is already spiraling out of control?” Brady frowned, and Nick clapped him on the shoulder.
“I know, there’s a lot for you guys to catch up on, and we’ll go over it all, but first I have to make a call and bring Special Agent Fox up to speed. In the meantime, have a black and white go and pick up Jax May at the Hotel Verona for questioning. Be polite, but make it clear this is not a request.”
“The singer?” Park gasped.
“Yep, he just moved up to the top of the suspect pile.”
Annaliese was going to kill him.
* * *
“I told you it was him, didn’t I tell you?” Special Agent Natalie Fox spilled out of her car in the shabby motel parking lot, her face lit with anticipation. She seemed almost gleeful about the new murder to Nick’s eyes. Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen the body, the loss of another human life wasn’t real to her beyond the next link in the case.
“What happened to your head?” Nick asked, noting the Steri-strip affixed to a cut above her left eyebrow.
“I got into a minor wreck last night, it’s nothing.” She waved his concern away, but Nick wasn’t convinced, reaching out to hold her still long enough to get a better look.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have a concussion, do you?”
Natalie slapped his hand away. “I said I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine because my shitty luck is finally turning around.” There was that grin again. “What have we got?”
“Oh, sorry,” Nick jumped in with the introductions. “This is my team, Detective Kip Brady and Detective Michelle Park. Guys, this is Special Agent Natalie Fox who I was telling you about.” Handshakes were exchanged all around, but Fox seemed to barely see them, intent on the newly replaced crime scene tape across the door up ahead.
“Yes, but what have we got?” she insisted.
Brady kept a running commentary as they walked back to the motel room, bringing her up to speed with the scant information they’d turned up so far. All three of them paused outside the room without crossing the threshold after her.
Natalie noticed after she was halfway into the room. “You coming inside?”
“I’ve already seen it,” Nick smiled, not wanting to go back into the stink any more than his team did.
“Whatever.” Fox disappeared from view as she stepped into the bathroom. Instead of the gravity Nick expected to see after viewing the body, she came out a few minutes later, all smiles. “It’s him alright,” she beamed, stepping out into the fresh air. “Okay, I want a canvas of the area. I want to know if anyone saw, heard, or smelled anything last night. I want to know everything there is to know about our vic, including who she’s slept with for the past year. Have your boys at the lab put a rush on the toxicology report, we need to know if there’s anything new to the cocktail in her system.”
“We’re already doing all that,” Nick said gently. In fact, he Park and Brady had already knocked on the doors of all twenty-four units in the time it’d taken for her to arrive on scene. If anyone had seen anything, they weren’t talking.
“Oh.”
“But you can give us a hand with the lab work. Your labs should be able to get the stuff much faster than ours.”
Natalie dismissed the idea after a moment’s thought. “We’ve got a backlog too, and I have less juice up here than you’d think, me not being a local. We might as well use your lab. I’ll have my SAIC give your boss a call to square it. I already talked to her about making this a joint task force, but I’m the lead on this case.”
“Good.” Nick nodded, pleased they wouldn’t be shut out entirely by the Bureau. “That means I need to start with bringing my team up to speed on the other murders.”
“You can do that afterwards. First let’s go roust the son of a bitch.” Fox was already striding with purpose to her rental car when Nick caught up to her.
“Whoa, hold up. We’re already bringing him in for questioning.”
“Not good enough. I want to be the one to lead him out of the hotel in cuffs. I want to see that fucker’s face.”
“We don’t have enough to charge him.”
“The hell we don’t.”
“Nat, we don’t have any physical evidence to tie him to the scene. Let’s wait and see what the CSU turns up before we press him too hard.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Natalie whirled, ticking off the points on her fingers. “All of the girls have his mark on them, he’s got spares of the murder weapon in his possession, and the murders are following him from town to town. Do I have to paint a picture for you? There’s no doubt in my mind now, he’s our dirtbag.”
“Be that as it may, we need to do this right or he’ll lawyer up and walk.” He could tell she didn’t want to hear it. She wanted to charge in guns drawn and hope May gave her a reason to pull the trigger, but common sense prevailed.
“Fine, we won’t charge him then, but I sure as hell am going to bring him in for questioning and find out where he was last night.”
“It’s already being done,” Nick said gently. “They’re picking him up and bringing him to the station as we speak. I suggest we all head down there and get up to speed before we talk to him.”
“Fine, I’ll meet you down there,” she agreed, and Nick kept her a moment longer, remembering the point Veronica had brought to his attention.
“I meant to ask you before. Did you look into where the vics got their tattoos at?”
A furrow appeared on Natalie’s brow, bunching the Steri-strip enough that he could see a deep gash beneath it. “Ah… I remember a mention of it. Two of them we weren’t able to track down, Julie included. The second one, Dawn, she had a usual parlor she frequented, but they didn’t recall either of the other two coming down there and their records confirmed that.”
“Did you talk to the guy or was the interview done by the locals?”
“I didn’t bother with it, why?”
“Because it could’ve been possible that the guy was lying. The tattoos are the only link they all share in common outside of the murders. He could’ve done the tattoos off the books. It’s worth checking out, don’t you think?”
Natalie fixed him with a sour smirk. “And what, you think the guy followed the band up here? Get real, Gibson. This new murder nails it. May is our guy, not some tattoo artist. I’ll see you guys down at the station.”
“She’s a real basket of sunshine, ain’t she, boss?” Brady said at his elbow as they watched her drive away.
“She’s been under a lot of strain lately. You know what it’s like when you’re sure someone’s your perp and you don’t have enough for a conviction. She’s been living with that for weeks, and now she’s convinced she’s got her break.”
“What about you, sir? Is this our break?” Park asked. “Nick?” she prompted when he didn’t answer right away.
Nick’s gaze went back to the dingy room, watching the body being rolled away on a gurney. “I just wish I could be sure.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Gibson.”
There were few people who could use his name like a weapon. His father had been one of them, Captain Quinn was another. As Nick strolled into the bullpen, he caught sight of his boss’ steely gaze, crooking a finger at him.
“Uh oh.” Nick didn’t bother with
the who me wave, instead he made a beeline for the Captain’s office, closing the door behind him.
“You want to tell me why I’ve got a Special Agent In Charge Beverly Watkins on my ass, demanding full cooperation from my department on a multiple homicide case I know nothing about?”
“I just came from the murder scene now, sir. I was going to brief you once I got back to the precinct.”
Quinn leaned back, arms crossing. “By all means, brief me now.”
“Ah, one second, sir.” Nick cracked the door open a few inches, waving his team over once he caught Park’s eye.
The silver haired man cracked what might’ve been a smile. “You need someone to hold your hand, Gibson?”
“As much as I enjoy a good cuddle, I’d actually prefer not to have to repeat myself. My team needs a briefing as much as you do.”
“Let’s take it out there then, show me what you’ve got.”
“Ah, okay.” Nick shot Brady an exaggerated grimace as he strode toward them with the Captain at his back. There was no sign of Natalie yet, even though she’d left the scene before they did. Self conscious with the Captain looking over his shoulder, Nick got to the nitty gritty of the case, setting up the pictures of the first three victims on the white board tucked behind his desk.
“Our first victim is Bethany Morrow.” Nick pointed to the first glossy pic. “She was a waitress slash actress, though she hadn’t had a paying acting job in over a year. The body turned up in a crap motel, much like our vic today. Nude, in a bathtub, her left wrist slashed. No signs of a struggle, her ID intact, cash in the wallet. Her roommate confirmed she’d gone to a Forsaken concert the night before and didn’t think anything of it when she stayed out all night.”
“And that’s why you’re bringing in Jax May?” Park asked.
“That’s part of it, yes,” Nick nodded. Natalie came in then and he waved her over. Introductions between her and the Captain completed, he forged on. “Our second victim is Dawn Johnson,” he said, tapping the pic and shooting Brady a sharp look when he snickered, but covered it with a cough. Any other day he would’ve cracked a joke of his own, but not with the Captain front and center.