by Lisa Olsen
“See, she’s the spitting image of those girls.” Stephanie’s voice rang with triumph. “Someone’s after Ruby, mark my word, only they’re still working their way up to it. But like he said, it’s almost time.”
Nick had to agree that could very well be the motivation behind the killings, and it provided another link between the band and the girls at the very least. “Do you mind if I take one of these pictures with me?” he asked, flipping to the next page to find one that looked more natural.
“Sure, go ahead if you think that might help. They’re copies, I have all the negatives around here. Somewhere.” She turned around to look and that’s when he came face to face with Jax’s prom picture, featuring a very fresh faced Annaliese, her hair cut and styled in a fairly accurate homage to the Rachel. Her slinky black dress made him feel things he probably shouldn’t for a picture of a teenaged girl, but he couldn’t help but think – how come she never dressed like that anymore?
Stephanie noticed him looking and came over to gaze down at the photo fondly. “Oh, that there was Jackson’s one true love. It just about broke my heart when the two of them decided to call it quits. I thought for sure they were going to get married and have kids.”
“They certainly do look happy,” he managed to say.
“Yeah, that girl was so sweet I could eat her up. Ah, what the hell, I’m not ready to be a grandmother anyway,” she snorted. “You don’t need that one too, do you? I don’t have too many pictures of Anna.”
“No, I’m good.” He flipped back to the previous shot of Ruby and slipped it out from under the plastic, dropping it into the cardboard box that he tucked under his arm. “I should get going with these. Thank you for your cooperation, it’s greatly appreciated.”
Stephanie sank back into the hanging chair, tanned legs swinging back and forth hypnotically as she reached for her lighter. “You feel free to stop on by if you decide to unwind. I’ll be here all night.”
“Thank you ma’am, but I’ve already got a girl who’s as sweet as apples.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Why do you smell like a Phish concert?” Natalie leaned close, sniffing delicately at his suit.
Even with driving back to the precinct with his windows rolled down, the pervasive odor still clung to his suit. More than likely, he was going to have to go home and change. “It’s medicinal,” he declared, stealing a line from Stephanie May. Natalie gave him an odd look, but he didn’t elaborate as Park and Brady joined them at the white board where Nick tacked up Ruby’s high school picture.
“Who’s that?” Park asked, studying the picture with interest.
“This is Miss Ruby May circa 2003,” Nick declared proudly. “Notice anything in particular?”
“Yeah, she fits our killer’s type to a T,” Brady observed, stepping closer. “What does this mean?”
“It means that Jax May is a sick sonofabitch,” Natalie said grimly, eyes focused on the picture.
“Not necessarily,” Nick objected. “That’s not all I found at Ms. May’s house. She was kind enough to share some interesting letters Ruby’s been receiving for some weeks now without her knowledge.” Producing the box, he tugged on a pair of gloves and spread the letters out onto his desk. “Take a look at these. You want to see a sicko, read a couple of these babies.”
Park and Brady accepted a pair of gloves from Nick’s desk drawer and studied them with interest. Natalie pulled out her own pair of disposable surgical gloves from her pocket and reached for the envelope on top, brows bunched together as she scanned over the letter. “Jax still could’ve sent these,” she insisted. “They were all post marked from L.A. while he was down there.”
“Why would he send freako letters like this to his mom’s address and not to Ruby’s place or the manager’s?” Brady posed the question and Natalie had a quick answer.
“To throw us off the trail. Only he’d counted on his mother sharing the information with the authorities before to get us looking in the wrong direction. He didn’t know she was going to hang onto them as souvenirs.”
“It’s a possibility, but I’m not so sure,” Nick said, taking Jax’s side oddly enough. “According to his mother, Jax loved his sister, so much that he’d risk his own neck to stick up for her. That doesn’t sound like a guy who’s trying to kill women who resemble her. It sounds more like the kind of guy who’d go after someone sending his sister obsessive fan mail instead of sending it.”
“Yes, and I’m sure the Son of Sam’s mama thought he was a regular boy scout too,” Natalie smirked. “We can’t rely on anything that woman told us. Of course she’d cover for her own son. Maybe he’s killing girls that remind him of his sister because he can’t bring himself to off her directly? You have to admit, Ruby can be pretty caustic sometimes.”
Sure, anything was possible, but Nick was no armchair psychologist. What he needed to focus on was finding more cold, hard, facts and less smoke and mirrors. “What else did we turn up?” he asked, trying to steer them back to something productive instead of going around and around this circle.
“I did some further checking into Gideon Strong,” Brady said, stepping up to the board. “My friend in the biz was right, Gideon Strong’s financials are completely tied to the band. Not only that, the guy is spending almost faster than he’s making it.”
“On what?”
“Lavish parties, cars, hip bachelor pad, women. The guy is living the rock and roll lifestyle and unless Forsaken’s meteor continues to rise, he’s gonna crash and burn.”
“Greed, I like it, it’s simple and direct. Do some digging into his alibis for the other murders and see where we stand,” Nick approved. “But again, we’re talking pure conjecture. Did anyone come up with something more concrete?”
“Not concrete, but…” Park said softly, and Nick waved her on. “One of the interviews I conducted raised a few red flags for me.”
Though he’d said he was looking for something firm, Nick trusted Park’s instincts. “Great. Which guy and what kind of flags?”
“Ed Dwiggins, he’s one of the roadies. He’s only been with the band for about six months, starting about six weeks before the first murder. He’s got a sheet – picked up twice for aggravated assault, a narcotics charge, and once for indecent exposure to an extreme minor, though that charge was later dropped.
“There’s our sicko for you,” Brady snorted. “Anyone who exposes himself to kiddies ain’t playing by the usual rules.”
“Alibi?” Natalie asked.
“He can’t account for himself on any of the nights of the murders,” Park replied. “He said he likes to spend his evenings in quiet reflection, his words. But if you’d seen the guy, you’d know he isn’t exactly the type to stay in with a good book.”
Nick picked up a dry erase marker, prepared to write the guy’s name up on the board. “Alright, it means he’s no stranger to violent crime, he knows how to get drugs and he shouldn’t be around little kids. What was the clincher for you, Michelle?”
Park blinked at the use of her given name with no silly nickname attached. “Well, sir,” she cleared her throat. “I know you said you wanted something concrete, but there was just something about this guy. I did like you always told us and got a look into his room, to study him in his environment, even though he’s staying at one of the cheaper motels. He’s got a lot of Ruby May memorabilia in there.”
“He travels with the band, what’s wrong with that?” Natalie asked.
“How can I explain this?” Park’s brow furrowed. “Not Forsaken merchandise – there wasn’t a single image of Jax May in sight. We’re talking posters of Ruby put up on the walls, the dresser littered with signed pictures, buttons and dolls. Bits of her costumes… I think he even had one of her hair ties sealed in a plastic box. This guy is way more than a casual fan. It would take a while to set up a display like that in such a temporary space.”
Nick tapped his lip with the end of the pen, stepping his way through the sc
enario playing through his mind. “If he’s truly this obsessed with Ruby, it wouldn’t be too hard for him to find out what she looked like before they got famous. I think he warrants a deeper look,” he agreed, writing the guy’s name down on the white board.
“You think he’s a crazed fan killing lookalikes?” Brady asked.
“Could be,” Nick shrugged. “At this point I’m still taking all plausible suggestions. Good job, Park, you run with it. Dig deeper, find out everything you can about him.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied serenely, but there was a glow of pride over Nick’s words of praise. “We’re a little crippled on the intel we have on him from the prior investigation,” she added, looking to Special Agent Fox, who gave a half shrug.
“We didn’t deem him a serious suspect, but he was interviewed. You should have a copy of it in your file. I’m more interested in these letters they’ve been getting. I can send them to the lab to be analyzed. If they turn up Jax’s prints we may have something concrete for once.”
All too happy to get her on board with examining the letters, Nick handed them over. “Oh, hey, did you find any mention of Ruby’s tattoo?” he asked Brady as an afterthought.
The younger detective shook his head. “Nope, I scanned through all the files looking for tattoo, symbol, or glyph and nothing came up.”
Natalie looked up in interest. “What’s this about a tattoo?”
“Apparently she shares the same mark as our victims but never bothered to mention it before.”
A speculative smile stretched across her face. “I think we ought to go pay Miss Ruby May a visit.”
* * *
“About last night,” Natalie started to say as they got to the parking lot and Nick waved her off.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” she insisted, coming to a stop by his car. “I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
“We’re fine, I promise. Let’s forget it happened.” Especially since Annaliese didn’t appear to be holding any grudges. “Only, ah… what did you say to Anna this morning?”
There was something in her eyes that years of experience as a cop told him she wasn’t about to tell the whole truth. “Not a thing. She showed up and shoved some herbs at me and left. I hope she doesn’t think…”
Like hell she didn’t. Was that what this apology was about? Testing out the waters to see if Nick was on the rebound? “No, it’s fine. We already kissed and made up.”
“Oh.”
Nick took the opportunity to climb into the car. He wasn’t interested in talking about it any longer. As long as she kept things professional he was willing to drop it, but if she kept pressing, he’d cut short any more of these joint interviews.
Natalie was all business though as they knocked on Ruby’s hotel room door at the Hotel Verona. The bouncer watched them warily, even though they’d identified themselves and shown ID.
“Can you ask them to send up another bottle? We’re out.” Ruby’s voice came through the door, but it was Rose who pulled it open, her bright blue eyes widening in surprise.
“You’re not room service,” she said with a smirk.
“I get that a lot,” Nick smiled back. “Can we come in anyway? We have something important to talk to Ruby about.”
Rose pulled the door open wider, standing out of the way to let Ruby make the call. “They say they need to talk to you.”
Ruby sprawled on the couch wearing an oversized black sweater and a pair of pink panties, bare legs tucked up under her. “He can come in, the bitch has to wait out in the hall.”
“I can vouch for Special Agent Fox, Miss May, she’ll be on her best behavior,” Nick tried with his best smile, but Ruby wasn’t having any.
“I don’t care if you superglue her lips shut, she ain’t coming in here,” she growled.
Nick flashed Natalie a helpless shrug and stepped deeper into the room. Rose immediately closed the door with a flourish and led the way to the couch. “Can I pour you a cup of tea, Sergeant?” she asked politely.
“Ah, sure, thanks,” Nick nodded, taking a seat on the nearby chair. The hotel room was laid out like Jax’s had been, only this one was decorated in vibrant reds and oranges. He had no idea how she could relax in a room like that, it felt like being on the inside of a lava lamp.
Rose poured him out a cup of fragrant tea, tilting her head to indicate the empty liquor bottle lying on its side. “I’d offer you a jot, but we’re fresh out.”
“This is fine, thanks, Rose,” he smiled, accepting the delicate cup, the scent of chamomile and cinnamon wafting toward him. “And you know you can call me Nick, like always.”
“I thought this was an official visit.” Rose lounged back, her hand landing on Ruby’s bare thigh. Staking her claim?
“It is,” Nick agreed. “I came to ask you about your tattoo, Ruby. The one that matches the band’s logo.”
“What about it?” Ruby sounded bored, more interested in searching for split ends in a hank of hair than talking about her tattoo.
“Then you do have a tattoo matching that description?”
Ruby let out a long sigh, turning on her side to pull up her sweater, revealing the same circle bisected with the arrows he’d seen on the murdered girls. It was more on her hip than her ass, right above the panty line. “There’s no law against tattoos, is there?” she asked, rolling back into her original position.
“No, not at all. Do you mind if I ask what made you choose that symbol in particular for your album cover?”
“I don’t know, Gideon showed us like a zillion designs and Jax and I both liked this one.”
“Gideon gave it to you to choose from?”
“Yeah, I think that’s what Jax said. He had a whole bunch of ‘em printed out in a big book like a photo album for us to look over.”
Interesting. “How long ago did you get the tattoo?”
“Ahh, shit, I don’t know exactly. Maybe about five years ago? When we were still playing in dumps. I wanted to get a tattoo and Jax thought it would be cool to get the logo of our band.”
“Does he have one too?”
Ruby shook her head, chewing on the side of her thumbnail. “No, he pussed out at the last minute, said he didn’t want to be that guy. Whatever the fuck that means. What does any of this have to do with the investigation?”
“It can’t have escaped your attention that each of the victims shared the same tattoo.”
“So?” Ruby didn’t seem the least bit worried. “Lots of our fans get tattooed with our symbol. I see websites with temporary tattoos of it all over the place.”
Nick reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a small set of pictures, laying them down on the table. There were the faces of all four victims, not the crime scene photos, but smiling for the camera, full of life. “Ruby, do these girls look familiar to you at all?”
“No, not particularly.” The singer barely glanced at them, but Rose leaned forward, studying the pictures with interest.
“I see the resemblance,” she said.
Ruby laughed. “Yep, they all look like each other, duh.”
“No, sweetie, they look like you,” Rose said gently. “Like the real you, not all this stage stuff.” She brushed the jet black hair back from Ruby’s shoulder.
“Do they?” Ruby took another look, no more interested after studying them for a few more seconds. “I don’t see it.”
“Be that as it may, I think it’d be a smart move for you to beef up security around here.” Nick thought it sounded like a reasonable suggestion, but all Ruby did was give a snort of derision.
“More security? It’s already tight as a frog’s ass. You want me to take someone with me when I take a piss too?”
“I’m afraid the situation might be more dangerous to you personally than you thought,” Nick said carefully, not wanting to scare her, but needing to impress the seriousness of the situation on the cavalier woman before him. “Are you aware of the fact that yo
ur mother has been receiving letters from an obsessive fan on your behalf?”
That caught her attention. “My mom’s getting nasty letters? How long has this been going on for?”
“For several months. Not too long before the murders started. Now there’s a chance they’re not related, but we’re exploring all options right now.”
“What kind of letters are these?” asked Rose, a pucker of worry appearing on her brow.
“Like I said, they’re obsessively interested in Ruby, some of the usual stuff like he feels as though they have a connection, like she’s singing just for him. But of more concern is how critical some of the language is, as if Ruby needs disciplining and he’s just the guy to give it to her.”
Rose’s frown deepened. “And you don’t have any clue who they’re from?”
“We just became aware of them today, but we’re giving it very serious attention. So as you can see, there might very well be a link to these letters and the murderer, given that the victims all resemble you, Ruby.”
Ruby was already shaking her head. “Those deaths had nothing to do with me or my brother, I don’t know how many more times I need to say it. So I have a couple of stalkers out there, it’s par for the course. It’s all part of the package when you sell your soul to the devil.”
Did she mean that literally? Most people would take it as a figure of speech, but Nick wasn’t so sure she was being glib. “You sold your soul to the devil?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Do you get this guy?” Ruby laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all year and a flush of color stole up the side of Nick’s neck.