by Karen Rose
Ryan Agar was a big, quiet man. His face was tanned, and even though he was only about forty, he looked much older. It was his eyes, JD thought. They were desolate.
He sat at a table in one of the interview rooms, an untouched cup of coffee in front of his folded hands. ‘I’d like to see my mother.’
‘We’re making the arrangements,’ JD said. ‘We weren’t expecting you this early.’
Agar met his eyes. ‘So I hear. You’re not the man who called me.’
‘No, sir,’ JD said. ‘We’re tracing that call now. How did that other man sound?’
‘I don’t know. His voice wasn’t as deep. Had more of an accent.’
‘What kind of accent, Mr Agar?’ Stevie asked.
‘Not southern, but not northern. Definitely not Midwest. Why would he pretend to be you?’
‘We don’t know,’ JD said. ‘Do you know anyone who’d want to hurt your mother?’
‘My mother was not a milk-and-cookies kind of woman. Not many people liked her unless they wanted something from her. But to murder her? That I don’t know.’
‘When was the last time you saw her?’ Stevie asked.
‘Last Christmas. I make a yearly pilgrimage.’ His voice had grown sardonic. ‘We have dinner at a fancy restaurant. She gives me a gift which I cannot use and tells me how well I’m looking. We exchange pleasantries that mean nothing and then I go home.’ His eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. ‘Please tell me she didn’t suffer.’
JD and Stevie exchanged a glance and Agar’s face crumpled. He bowed his head as silent sobs shook his massive shoulders. JD placed a box of tissues at his elbow and he and Stevie patiently waited for the initial storm to pass.
‘We’re sorry for your loss,’ Stevie said softly when Agar’s shoulders finally stilled. ‘We know this is a hard time for you, but we need to ask you some questions.’
Agar lifted his head, his glare harsh. ‘Do you have any leads?’
‘We do,’ Stevie said, ‘but only because your mother isn’t the first victim. Mr Agar, do you know a man named Russell Bennett?’
For a moment Agar froze. Then he swallowed. ‘The name sounds familiar.’
‘He was found dead yesterday morning,’ Stevie said. ‘Many of his injuries are similar to those we found on your mother. Do you know if they knew each other?’
Agar frowned, his confusion feigned. ‘It’s possible. She knew a lot of people.’
‘Mr Agar,’ Stevie said, ‘you went to high school with a Russell Bennett.’
He swallowed again, harder this time. ‘Oh. That Russell Bennett? I kind of remember him. We lost touch after high school.’
‘What about Malcolm Edwards?’ JD asked softly. ‘Do you kind of remember him?’
Agar’s eyes flickered wildly. ‘Why?’
‘Because he disappeared two months ago. He’s thought to have been lost at sea.’
‘I don’t see what that has to do with my mother or me.’
‘Edwards and Bennett both had their bank accounts wiped the day they were last seen.’ JD let the statement hang and watched as realization dawned in Agar’s eyes.
What color remained behind his tanned face slid away. ‘My mother’s accounts were wiped? All of them?’
‘At least one,’ Stevie said. ‘These men and your mother are connected. They all came from your hometown, they all had their accounts wiped, and they’re all dead.’
Agar moistened his lips. ‘Why?’
‘That’s what we want to know,’ Stevie said, her voice dropping to a menacing murmur.
‘There’s one more connection, Mr Agar,’ JD said coldly, when Agar didn’t reply. ‘Bennett was a plastic surgeon. He did at least one procedure for your mother. And if we’re not mistaken, he visited her apartment on more than one occasion.’
Agar flinched. ‘Bennett operated on my mother? No, that’s not possible.’
‘Why would you say that’s not possible?’ Stevie asked.
‘B-because,’ Agar stammered. ‘Mother was beautiful. She didn’t need surgery.’
Stevie sat back, her expression annoyed. ‘Mr Agar, I have three bodies in the morgue. Please don’t bullshit me.’
His eyes widened. ‘Three? I thought you said Edwards was lost at sea.’
‘He was,’ Stevie said. ‘A young man was murdered last night at the scene where we found your mother’s body. Something is going on here, something that has to do with your hometown. What happened in Anderson Ferry, Mr Agar?’
‘I said I don’t know,’ Agar said, his teeth clenched. ‘I need to go. You have my cell number. Please call me when I can identify my mother’s body.’
‘What about Buck Trask?’ JD asked, as he and Stevie had prearranged he would if Agar had gone the bullshit route, which he had.
Agar paused, halfway out of his chair. Slowly he sat back down. ‘He died more than twenty years ago,’ he said carefully. ‘It was a tragic accident. What about him?’
‘He’s connected too,’ JD said coldly. ‘Or at least his family is.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The bodies of both Bennett and your mother were discovered by Lucy Trask,’ JD said. ‘They were left for her to find.’
Agar shook his head. ‘I don’t understand what you mean. I don’t remember her.’
‘Buck’s younger sister,’ Stevie said.
Again he shook his head, a little more desperately. ‘I don’t know her. I don’t know why she found my mother’s body. Are we finished now?’ He stood up. ‘You can’t keep me here.’
‘You’re right,’ JD said levelly, ‘but before you walk out of here, I want you to remember that somebody drew you here. There has to be a reason for that.’
‘Are you saying I’m next?’ he asked, fear in his voice.
JD shrugged. ‘I’m saying I’d be careful,’ he said, then rose to look Agar straight in the eye. ‘I’m saying I think you know a lot more than you’re telling. And I’m saying that if anyone else gets hurt, I’m holding you personally responsible.’
Agar’s eyes closed and his throat worked nervously. JD hoped he’d talk, but then he opened his eyes and JD knew he would not. ‘I need to go.’
‘I’ll take you to someone who can get you a list of hotels,’ Stevie said, ‘and get an officer to drive you to whichever you pick. My partner is right, Mr Agar. You were brought here for a reason. We’d hate to see anything happen to you.’
Agar nodded once but said no more.
JD watched the man go, irritated as hell. He picked up the phone on the table and called Hyatt. ‘It’s Fitzpatrick. Ryan Agar knows what this is all about and won’t tell us. Stevie’s helping him find a hotel room. We need to put a tail on him. My money says he’s going to run.’
‘I’ll take care of the tail. You and Mazzetti get over here for morning meeting.’
‘We will.’ He hesitated. ‘Have you heard from Drew about the newest box?’
‘Not yet. Call him on your way. We’re waiting for you.’
JD hung up, then dialed Drew, waiting several rings before he picked up. ‘It’s Fitzpatrick. You got the box?’
‘Yes,’ Drew said. ‘X-ray says it’s fist-sized. The blood on the resident’s coffee table says we’ve probably got another heart and that it wasn’t frozen.’
JD grimaced. ‘It leaked?’
‘All over the damn place. We’ve taken prints off the door and the knob and the table. Nothing else looks like it was disturbed. Morton and Skinner canvassed the building. Nobody saw anything. No cameras in this building, just like in Dr Trask’s. Same development, different building. Shitty security.’
‘Any sign of forced entry?’
‘No. Appears they had a key.’
‘Is Dr Trask still there?’
‘Yes, standing outside in the hall with her friend. You want to talk to her?’
Tuesday, May 4, 8.50 A.M.
‘We’re never going to get that black fingerprint powder off the walls,’ Gwyn said wearily. ‘An
d that blood will never come out of the carpet.’
‘It’ll be okay,’ Royce said, his arm around Gwyn’s shoulders. ‘I’ll help you scrub.’
‘And we’ll get new carpet,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Gwyn sighed. ‘It’s not your fault. I’m just glad we weren’t here at the time.’
‘Amen,’ Thorne said. He’d come right away, just as he always did when they called. He stood behind them, feet spread, arms crossed. Like a bad-ass bodyguard, prepared for anything. ‘From here on out, you two do not go anywhere alone.’
Royce nodded. ‘Gwyn will stay with me tonight.’
Gwyn frowned up at him. ‘I thought you had to go out of town tonight. You’ve got that sales review in Atlanta.’
‘I’ll move some things around, put my trip off for a few days. My client will understand. This is a lot more important.’ Royce’s expression was stern. ‘What are the cops doing about this, Lucy? This has to stop.’
‘I know,’ Lucy said. ‘Believe me, they know, too.’
‘You should stay with us tonight,’ Royce said. ‘We have room.’ His jaw tightened. ‘And I have a gun. I’d like to see that prick try terrorizing someone his own size.’
Lucy thought of Gwyn’s often graphic descriptions of the nights she spent with Royce. She wasn’t sure if she could listen to the two of them . . . together. Especially when the memory of that damn alley was never far from her mind.
‘Thanks, but I think I’ll stay with Thorne tonight.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘If that’s okay with you.’
‘You know it is,’ Thorne said simply. ‘As long as you need it.’
They turned when Drew came through the door, holding his cell. ‘It’s for you, Dr Trask.’
A little puzzled, she took the phone. ‘This is Dr Trask.’
‘It’s JD. I wanted to tell you that I won’t be able to get over there. Hyatt’s got a meeting scheduled and . . . well, I’m sorry.’
Lucy was conscious of Gwyn’s and Thorne’s worried expressions. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she told them, then stepped to the edge of the landing for privacy. ‘Is there? I mean, anything new?’
‘Probably not. We just finished talking to Ryan Agar. When we mentioned your brother’s name, we got a reaction. We told him you’d found the bodies, hoping he’d tell us the connection, but he insisted he didn’t know.’
‘But you think he’s lying.’
‘Yeah, I do. I want you to be careful, keep your eyes open in case he approaches you. He’s about six four with reddish hair and a tanned face.’
‘If he does, I’ll call for help.’
‘Good. Then call me. Where will you be today?’
‘At the morgue. We’ve got a backload of bodies. Craig went in to do Janet Gordon’s ID.’
‘Oh. We thought you’d do it. We sent Agar to find a hotel until you were ready.’
‘Craig’s probably waiting for your call. When he’s done with the ID, he’ll start on . . .’ She bit her lip, watching Thorne and Gwyn watching her. ‘The other autopsy,’ she said, not wanting to say Kevin’s name. Thorne had spent most of the night grieving with the Drummond family.
‘I understand. Lucy, I need to talk to you. Later. Alone.’
She closed her eyes, a shiver racing across her skin at the thought of the last time they were alone. They hadn’t done much talking. ‘Not a good idea.’
‘I have a lot of questions. I’d like some answers. Please.’
It was the please that moved her. Or maybe she just wanted to say yes. ‘All right. I get off at five. I’m probably staying with Thorne tonight.’
‘All right. I’ll try to break for dinner. Lucy, one more thing. Hyatt wants the list of your regular customers at the club. He says he’ll put a squad car out front until you hand it over.’
Lucy’s jaw tightened. ‘I really don’t like that man. Do you think he will?’
‘Honestly, no. But someone there knew you were staying with Gwyn last night.’
‘Or the killer assumed it. He might have stopped by my place first and seen the crime-scene label on the door. My staying with Gwyn would be an obvious leap.’
‘He had a key.’
That stopped her cold. ‘And if Gwyn had been home . . .’ That left her colder.
‘Will you try to get the list?’
‘I’ll ask him. He’ll say no. But I’ll try.’
‘We’ll be talking to your employees, too. We hope you’ll encourage them to cooperate.’
‘I will. I need to go. Drew wants his phone.’
‘I’ll call you when I get a break. Be careful.’
Yeah, she thought, hanging up. Easier said than done when Fitzpatrick got too close. She handed Drew his phone. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem. Look, we’ll be here a while. We’ve got your statements, so you can go. Do you need an escort?’
‘No, I’ll catch a ride with my friends.’ I need them. Especially now, she thought as she rejoined the others. ‘He says we can go. Thorne, can you drive me to work?’
Thorne checked his watch. ‘I’m almost late to court, but if we hurry—’
‘You go to court,’ Royce interrupted. ‘I’ll drive and walk them both in. Don’t worry.’
But Thorne clearly was. ‘You know how to use that gun, Royce?’ he murmured.
‘Yeah.’ Royce looked back at the CSU team, still working in Gwyn’s apartment. ‘I hope Lucy’s cop figures this out quickly. My trigger finger’s feeling damn twitchy.’
Lucy’s cheeks heated. ‘He’s not my cop. Let’s just all go to work.’
Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday, May 4, 9.10 A.M.
JD assumed that the man in Hyatt’s guest chair was the shrink. He was about sixty and wore a tweed suit. Daphne had kicked convention to the curb and dragged a chair from someone else’s desk into Hyatt’s office. She sat on it like it was a throne. Hyatt glared at her from time to time.
It made JD want to buy her lunch.
‘Is Agar gone?’ Hyatt asked.
‘He is,’ Stevie said. ‘He got a room at the Peabody. Tory Reading is driving him. She’s his first shift tail, too.’ She gestured to the man in the chair. ‘Lennie, this is my new partner, JD Fitzpatrick. JD, meet Dr Lennie Berman.’
JD took the hand he offered. ‘Dr Berman,’ he said.
Berman nodded once. ‘So who is Agar and why is he being tailed?’
JD and Stevie brought the group up to date. ‘He knows something,’ JD said firmly.
‘I’d have to agree,’ Berman said. ‘But it sounds like Mr. Agar is more afraid of what he knows than he is of you. Is there another way to get to this information?’
‘Yes,’ Hyatt snapped. ‘Make Agar more afraid of us.’
‘Or,’ JD said, ‘we go back to Anderson Ferry and ask questions. Something ties these men together. I think Russell Bennett’s father knows what it is.’
‘Why kill Agar’s mother, though?’ Daphne asked. ‘Why cut out her heart?’
‘Maybe because he’s a sick SOB?’ Stevie said. ‘We’re pretty sure he used her death to draw the son back – and quickly. He could have waited for us to make the ID and notify next of kin. But then Agar wouldn’t have made it here until this evening.’
‘He’s in a hurry,’ Berman mused.
‘He lost two weeks,’ JD said. ‘He killed Bennett, but Dr Trask was out of town.’
‘So he froze the victim,’ Berman said. ‘He went to a lot of trouble to put the bodies where Dr Trask would find them, then he left her their hearts. You can’t get much more symbolic than that. She’s definitely at the center. Her brother died after high school?’
‘Yes,’ JD said. ‘Motorcycle accident. He was eighteen. Dr Trask was only fourteen.’
‘And she has no clue what the connection could be?’
‘Not that she’s aware of,’ Stevie said. ‘We know Bennett hated her and kept a file on her adult life. We also know Bennett had dozens of extramarital affairs. So far, twelve have ha
d ties to his hometown. What gives with that?’
‘I’d guess he had a sexual event occur back in that town. Something that he’d been trying to either re-create or forget. Given the sheer number of women, I’d say the second one, although I’d imagine he’d claim it was the first. He was trying to prove something to himself, one way or the other. We definitely need to go to that town.’
‘We?’ JD asked. ‘You’re going?’
‘Oh yes. If this killer is leaving no evidence, we have to find his motive. That is correct, isn’t it? He’s left no real evidence?’
JD nodded. ‘So far. We’re hoping the ME will get some skin scrapings from under the valet’s nails, because it seems that’s the only death he didn’t execute off site.’
‘What do we have on possible locations for his kills?’ Hyatt asked.
‘Somewhere near the water,’ JD said. ‘Bennett’s first ex-wife remembers hearing seagulls when he called her. We think his killer had him by then.’
‘We know he has access to a big-ass freezer, too,’ Stevie said.
‘Morton and Skinner made a list.’ Hyatt gave them a copy. ‘Morton said these are the facilities within fifty miles with a flash freezer big enough to handle a human body.’
Stevie skimmed the list. ‘All of them run twenty-four-hour operations. It would have been hard for anyone to slip a body in there when nobody was looking.’
‘But we know he did it,’ Hyatt said. ‘So keep looking. What else do we know?’
‘He steals their money,’ JD said. ‘Edwards, Bennett and now Janet Gordon have had their bank accounts wiped. Gordon had close to two hundred grand taken.’
‘We need IT to trace the transfers,’ Stevie said. ‘Hopefully the detectives working the Edwards case have some leads.’
Hyatt nodded. ‘Find out. Who was the last person to see Janet Gordon alive?’
‘Her manicurist saw her that afternoon,’ JD said. ‘Assuming she went out for a date, somebody would have seen her there.’
‘What about the victims?’ Berman asked. ‘What kind of people were they?’
‘Bennett was an asshole,’ Stevie said. ‘Womanizer, abusive. Real piece of work. From the two people we’ve talked to about Janet, she didn’t seem too sweet either.’