by Lisa Olsen
“Then what was with all the he didn’t do it stuff?” Nick demanded. “Why didn’t you say something before?”
“Because he got over it, he didn’t hurt me or anything. Like I said, he ended up being kind of sweet and gentlemanly about the whole thing. But for a few seconds, he scared the crap out of me.”
Nick digested that for a few moments, patting her on the shoulder as he pushed away from the desk. “Thanks for telling me about it. The more information I have the better. Is there anything else you want to tell me about what happened last night?”
“Nothing that won’t end up with lecture number nine on the dangers of older men.”
“Oh, you’re getting that one no matter what, make no mistake of that. Come on, I’ll run you home.”
Veronica shouldered her bag but took a step away from him. “No, you stay, I’ll take the bus home. You have more important things to do here.”
“There’s nothing more important than you, muffin.” Nick meant it. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his daughter, important job or no.
“That’s sweet, but it’s broad daylight, I think I can make it home on my own.”
“Alright, but text me when you get there.”
“I know the drill, Sergeant,” she smiled, giving him a brief salute. “I hope you catch him, whoever the killer is.”
“I always do, sweetie. I always do.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was late when he finally got home, and even then, Nick couldn’t sleep. Instead, he made up his own version of the murder board on a smaller scale on the white board tacked up on his study wall. He kept coming back to the tattoos, there had to be an important clue there. Even if all four victims were fans of Forsaken, it was too much of a coincidence for all of them to be marked with the exact same tattoo in the exact same size. The business about the cuts underneath the tattoo was just another indicator that there was something hinky going on.
His fingers itched to call Annaliese and talk to her about it, but he didn’t. Their conversations more often than not degraded into arguments whenever the case came up, and he couldn’t let himself be distracted by worrying over how to make it right between them any more than he already was.
Instead, he settled down to go over the reports from the first three deaths again, in painstakingly slow detail. Hopefully Natalie would come through with some of the answers to their pressing questions from her contacts back in Los Angeles. Briefly, he considered calling her. It was a cinch she’d be awake, poring over the case the same as he was, but something kept him from making the call. Even if he couldn’t make things better with Annaliese right now, he could try and keep them from getting worse and something told him that a late night brainstorming session with the sexy special agent was a bad idea.
A few hours rest and he was up again, headed to the office before Veronica even woke up for school. He met Natalie in the parking lot, Starbucks cup in hand.
“You’re here bright and early,” he said by way of greeting. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Nope. I think I might switch hotels.” Natalie shifted the hold on her coffee cup to scratch at her shoulder. “I think I’m allergic to their laundry detergent or something.”
Nick peeled the collar of her blouse aside to see the angry rash all over her collarbone. “Gah… what are they washing them with, hydrochloric acid? Maybe you should see a doctor?”
“Nah, I can tough it out. Did you get anything out of your daughter?”
“No, she claims May was a total gentleman once he realized she was underage.” For some reason, he didn’t bring up her mention of his temper. It wasn’t like Natalie needed any more fuel to fan her distrust of the singer.
“More likely he realized she had a cop for a father and was on his best behavior in case it got back to you.”
Nick accepted that as a distinct possibility, offering no argument as they made their way up to the bullpen. “So, what did you get up to after I left last night?” He assumed no Earth shattering breakthroughs had been made or he would’ve heard about it by now.
“I spent most of my evening interviewing the staff at the Hotel Verona. The night clerk remembers Jax coming in alone and footage from the lobby camera shows he arrived around one thirty a.m. all by his lonesome. Of course that doesn’t mean squat. He could’ve easily gone right back out again through one of the other exits. The front entrance is the only one with video cameras.”
“Nothing in the hallways or elevators, huh?”
“No such luck. Oh good, your team’s already here. Now I won’t have to repeat myself too much for the rest of it,” Natalie smiled. Despite the rash and the lack of sleep, she seemed calmer than she’d been the last time he’d seen her. Maybe it was having something to actively investigate. Whatever it was, he was glad to see her back at the top of her game; they were going to need all of her sharp intellect to nail this one, he could feel it.
Not only had Brady and Park shown up early, they’d also stopped by Heavenly Donuts. Park handed Nick a tall container of coffee and Brady held the box open for them as they approached. “Who’s your pal?” he grinned, and Nick favored him with a heartfelt smile.
“I have taught you well, my young Padawans. Just what the doctor ordered to start the day right, caffeine and sugar.” But then he paused with the donut halfway to his mouth. “Please tell me this isn’t a bribe for all the stuff you didn’t find out last night.”
The pair exchanged guilty glances and Park spoke up. “It’s not that we didn’t find anything out, it’s just a whole lot of negative confirmations.”
“So let’s hear them,” Natalie said with an encouraging nod, selecting a maple bar from the box.
“It turns out the boyfriend was at a sports game up in Seattle that night,” Brady began. “He knew she was going to the concert, but wasn’t a fan. He was pretty broken up by the news, I had no reason to suspect his reaction was false. His story was corroborated by two other guys who drove to the game with him. They all crashed at a cheap motel afterwards and swear up and down he couldn’t have left without them knowing it.”
Park took over next. “And I tracked down the stage manager for the venue. He provided me with a short list of names on the backstage pass list. We’re still working our way through them. They contract out to a security company called First Alarm. I was able to reach the men on duty that night. None of them were aware of anything out of the ordinary. Of the two guards who were stationed in the backstage area, neither one of them remembers anything in particular about our vic. Neither of them were even aware that she was the one who went into May’s dressing room with him.”
“One of them had to have seen something,” Natalie frowned.
“If they did, they’re clammed up tight,” Park said with a half shrug. “We also went to see the vic’s friend, the one who went to the concert with her that night. She wasn’t all that much help. She wasn’t picked to go backstage at all.”
That struck Nick as odd. “So Hayley ditched her friend?”
“Apparently the vic flashed a roadie and that’s how she got in,” Brady added. “The friend wouldn’t do it and got stuck on the wrong side of the velvet rope. Some sour grapes there, if you ask me.”
“What about May’s own private security? Has anyone talked to them yet?”
“I did,” Natalie volunteered, digging out pictures for the two burly guys Nick had seen out in the hotel hallway. “May employs these two guys for public appearances back in L.A. and whenever he travels. Both agree they saw Miss Lambert go into the dressing room with him, but also saw her leave about a half hour before May left with his manager at around one in the morning. Neither one of them paid any particular attention to where she went after she left him.”
Something about this rubbed Nick the wrong way. “If he had his own private security guys there, how come they didn’t accompany him back to the hotel?”
“That’s exactly what I wondered,” Natalie smiled. “I asked them that, and they both said he le
t them go for the night when he left the venue.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Maybe, but they didn’t question it at the time.”
“Okay, is everybody ready for another slice of weirdness to add to the puzzle?” Nick repeated the oddity of the cuts under the tattoo that Libby had shared.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Natalie frowned. “If it didn’t happen at the time of death, then it’s not our concern.”
Nick was inclined to disagree, but let it go for now. “Alright, so it looks like you two still have some witnesses to track down from the after party. Nat, how about you and I go press that manager for the complete list of employees May promised?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” Park observed, arching a single brow, but Natalie caught onto the spirit of things.
“That’s the whole point,” she said with a dazzling smile. Gideon Strong didn’t stand a chance.
* * *
Even at the early hour, the sidewalk outside the hotel was littered with photographers who swarmed at their approach, not at all put off by the stern glare Nick sent in their direction. He considered flashing a badge to get them to break it up, but decided that would only fan the flame. Besides, they were on a public sidewalk, they could loiter all they wanted to. After a few shots they lost interest though, deciding Nick and Natalie were nobodies.
The desk clerk readily gave up the room number for Gideon Strong, even without stating why they needed it, and Nick made a mental note never to stay there if he was looking for discretion. Of course that thought led to another involving an elevator ride with Special Agent Foxy, and he lost track of his thoughts until the door slid open with a ding. Nat shot him a quick wink, making him wonder if she hadn’t been thinking the same thing.
Prepared to pound on the door if necessary, Nick was surprised when the band’s manager answered right away. Dressed in slim fitting yoga pants and a baggy black t-shirt, his curly brown hair shaggy and long, Gideon looked ready to greet the day with a sunrise stretch.
This guy was their manager? Nick had been expecting some slick character in a shiny suit, this guy looked like he belonged at a startup company in Silicon Valley. But he recovered swiftly enough, producing his badge and a polite nod. “Good morning, Mr. Strong. I’m Sergeant Gibson and this is…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Special Agent Fox, we’ve met,” he nodded, ignoring the badge.
Of course they had. Only Strong didn’t seem to object to her presence the same way his client did. He looked mildly intrigued, not at all upset to be disturbed so early in the morning. Then again, it looked like he’d already been up for some time. Still, Nick went through his usual spiel. “Sorry to bother you so early, but we have a few questions for you.”
“Right, right, right. Come on in. Can I get either of you a chai latte? No? Are you sure? I get this stuff from this dinky village near Kathmandu and it’ll change your life, I swear. No? No one? Ah well, more for me.”
The quirky man led them deeper into the hotel suite. It wasn’t as fancy as May’s room, but it was definitely an upgrade over the standard hotel offering. The bedroom was its own separate room, and the living area was smaller but with a larger desk, littered with papers. Flyers mostly, from the look of it, trying out different layouts for future gigs.
Strong bypassed the desk, heading for the small kitchenette area to pour himself a cup of fragrant brew, fussing over getting the right combination of tea and soy milk, which he heated separately in the microwave. “What is it I can do for you? You’re not here to tell me you’ve arrested Jax, are you?”
“No, we haven’t made any arrests at this time,” Natalie replied, her tone making it sound like it wasn’t entirely out of the question.
“Ah, that’s too bad.”
“I beg your pardon?” Nick asked, sure he’d heard him wrong. “Is there some reason why we should be arresting Mr. May?”
“No, no, no, probably not, I mean, I don’t know,” he hedged, stirring his chai concoction before looking up at them with a loopy grin. “But can you imagine the headlines? Superstar Singer Charged in Gruesome Groupie Slaughter. You can’t buy publicity like that, baby.”
Nick traded a look with Natalie before she spoke. “Then I take it you’re not afraid of bad press?”
Gideon perched on the edge of an armchair, hiking up his pants leg as he rested the hot mug on his knee. “You know, kitten, I’ve found there truly is no such thing as bad press. Ticket sales are up, I’ve got no complaints,” he grinned, completely unfazed by the way she bristled over being called kitten.
Nick redirected the line of questioning before she blew a fuse. “Where were you between the hours of two and four a.m. the night before last?”
“Why, am I a person of interest?”
“Does the idea excite you?” Natalie asked, watching him closely, and he returned her scrutiny with a brassy wink.
“Lots of things excite me.”
“Could you answer the question please, Mr. Strong?” Nick prompted, and this time he answered without hesitation.
“Here in the hotel. And no, no one was with me, but I was awake until almost four trying to put through this monster deal on a multi-city British invasion type of tour.”
“Oh, so you were on the phone then? Who were you talking to?” Nick pulled out his pen and notepad to take down the name.
“No, no, no, I…” Gideon hesitated, sloshing the chai onto the rug as he stood to pace behind the desk. “You misunderstood me. I wasn’t actually in the middle of negotiation, I’m still in the initial stages of putting it together. I was working on my pitch right here.” He patted the top of the laptop sitting on the desk.
“There’s no one you corresponded to or chatted with that places you here during that time frame?”
“Nope, sorry,” he shrugged, far less bothered than he should be by Nick’s way of thinking. “Oh, I did have a pay per view movie on while I worked. That’d be on my room charges, wouldn’t it?”
“What was the movie?” Natalie asked.
Gideon’s lips curved into a creepy smile. “Psycho.”
“Of course,” she said tightly. “Listen, May promised us you’d have a list of all of the employees and contractors associated with the band. Have you had time to put that together?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve got it right here,” he nodded, tapping a few keys on the laptop. “Do you need two copies? I’d better give you two copies.”
Nick was about to say that wasn’t necessary, but the compact printer was already churning away so he dropped it. “Say, you know Ruby mentioned you were the one to suggest the gimmick that put the band on the map. How did you come up with the demonic angle?”
Gideon looked pleased with the praise. “It’s not really demonic per se, more of a dark metal theme. It’s generic enough that it doesn’t piss off the Satanists and angsty enough that it appeals to all the rejects out there who like to feel like they’ve tapped into something dark and mysterious.” His contempt for the listeners who paid for his livelihood ticked Nick off, but he kept his voice neutral.
“You’re not into all that stuff then? The imagery, any of the symbolism behind it?”
“Hey, I’m into whatever makes a buck. I mean look at me. I’m more Fountains of Wayne than Forsaken. But I listen to what the kids are talking about these days, I know what’s hot, and Forsaken is hot.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “Alright, I think we’ve got what we need, don’t you?” Nick looked to Natalie, who was busy poring over the printed list.
“We do,” she agreed. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Gideon followed them to the door, dancing attendance like a little dog chasing after its master. “Have I graduated to a person of interest?”
“Let’s just say you shouldn’t leave town without checking with us first,” Nick said, figuring it was harmless to feed the guy’s ego.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than righ
t here in the middle of things,” Gideon beamed, pleased as punch. “I wouldn’t leave if my mother was on her deathbed.”
“Aw, whatever happened to a boy’s best friend is his mother?”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed at Nick strangely, clearly not following the segue. “Yeah well, I haven’t been a mama’s boy in a long time.” That last line was delivered to Natalie, but she was less concerned with his fragile ego than Nick was. She left the hotel room without another backwards glance.
Nick followed after a polite nod, falling into step beside her. He kept his feelings to himself until the elevator doors closed, affording them some privacy. “He didn’t know the quote,” he pointed out.
“What quote?”
“You know, the boy’s best friend is his mother quote from Psycho. He said he watched the movie that night, but he didn’t recognize the quote.”
“Oh.” She seemed less impressed by the revelation. “Maybe he didn’t watch the whole thing. He was working at the time.”
“I don’t know, there’s something off about that guy,” Nick insisted as they stepped into the lobby.
“He’s an asshole in a world of assholes. It doesn’t make him a killer.”
“True.” He didn’t have any solid reason to suspect the guy, except that he’d come up from L.A. to Portland with the band, and they’d been able to place him at the last known location of their victim. That and the fact that the guy seemed a little too eager for the press stirred up by the murders. Was he capable of actually killing these girls to drum up interest in the band? That sort of dementia was few and far between.
Most murders boiled down to something much more personal. Love, hate, greed… those were the biggies. Greed fit, but seemed extreme. Besides, Nick couldn’t picture the twitchy guy actually getting his hands dirty with something like murder.
“Where to now?” he asked as they reached the sidewalk, ignoring the cameras there.
Natalie was already striding toward the car parked several blocks down. “Let’s get back to the precinct and divvy up this list of employees. The sooner we can get through them, the sooner we can focus on May.”