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Dawn of Evil_FBI Flashback

Page 30

by Morgan Kelley


  She got why he lied about roughing up a hooker. What man wanted a woman investigator to ask questions about his love of being humiliated.

  “You know Boston better than us,” she said. “How long to get to this address?” she asked, showing her.

  Melody mulled it over.

  “Ten minutes by car, and twenty by train at this time of the night.”

  Yeah, someone had some explaining to do.

  “Thank you, Melody.”

  “Mistress Melody.”

  “Well, since you won’t be spanking me today, we’ll go with first names,” Elizabeth stated.

  “Feel free to come back,” she said, as they left that den of iniquity.

  Yeah, that was never happening.

  As they headed down the walkway, Melody pulled out her phone. It rang three times.

  “Yes?”

  “Boss?”

  “Melody, what can I do for you?” Michael O’Banion asked.

  “There was a Fed here, and she was asking questions. I told her what you wanted me to say.”

  He was pleased.

  “Good job, Melody. You can forget about your payment this month. Consider it for a job well done.”

  “Thank you, boss. I appreciate it. Thank you for the heads-up that she was coming my way.”

  Oh, it was all in a day’s work at protecting his city.

  “Contact me if she shows again.”

  “I will, Mr. O’Banion.”

  “Oh, and Melody?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Joey wants a session. Make it happen.”

  She would do anything he asked—not because she liked Michael O’Banion or paying him kickbacks to stay off the police radar, but because she wanted to live.

  “I can do that, sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  The line went dead, and Melody locked her doors. She had to get ready for Joey.

  And he was one, sick fuck.

  When they got to the car, Alex was staring at her. “Some people have all the luck.”

  “I was hit on by a hooker-playing mistress. That’s not luck, Alex, that’s a surefire way to get crabs, syphilis, or HIV.”

  He laughed.

  “We have other things to focus on,” she stated. “Stop picturing me dominating a dominatrix. It’s creepy.”

  He grinned.

  “Give me one more second…”

  She punched him.

  “Okay, I’m done.”

  She missed having him as her partner. While she was mad at first, Elizabeth had to let it go.

  “Professor Prince is still at the top of our suspect list,” she stated.

  “Yeah, he lied.”

  “Daryl Prince told us he was dominating her, and that was strike one.”

  “He also could have been so horny and jacked up that he went to find his office fling and it got out of control.”

  “Horny man meets an exercising woman who happened to let him in…”

  Yeah, he had big issues.

  “The second strike is the time he left. He could have got to her house and did the deed. He lied about that too.”

  Alex shook his head.

  “Liar, liar, someone’s pants will be on fire.”

  She agreed there.

  “He is at the top of the list. We have to find a way to connect the first victim. Two and three both have ties to Harvard and could have crossed paths.”

  Her phone rang.

  “Agent LaRue,” she said.

  It was Max.

  “Hey, we just got a call. There’s another body. We’ve been told hands off, so I’m passing it off. The MO matches, and it’s going to be your killer.”

  “Where?” she asked, scribbling it down as he read it off to her.

  “We’ll handle it. Thanks, Max.”

  “Watch your back, LaRue. There are a bunch of pissed off cops here. When we were pulled, the commissioner wasn’t able to play it down. My partner was not happy, and he ran his mouth all over the precinct. Half the boys in blue are going to be gunning for you.”

  “Great. I love a challenge,” she stated. “My day keeps getting better and better.”

  Max had more bad news.

  “And I heard from someone that you have a tail. He’s been reporting in to the commissioner.”

  She looked around.

  “The reporter? What was his name?”

  “Yeah, you have company. Alex O’Malley is reporting in with each stop you make.”

  Well, shit.

  While it was bad enough that she’d been asked to play ball, and for Chris, she’d contemplated it, but now he wasn’t just the media, but a set of eyes for disgruntled cops.

  Well, how could that possibly go bad?

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Max.”

  “If you need help, call me. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll help you any way I can.”

  Yeah, that was NOT happening, and he likely knew it too. This was a Fed-driven dog and pony show—especially since the Boston PD had rats in their ranks.

  “Sure, thanks,” she said, leaving it at that.

  Elizabeth disconnected the call.

  “I’ll call Chris to let him know…”

  Her phone rang again.

  “LaRue.”

  “Honey, we have something for you.”

  “Chris, I was just calling you. Put it on the back burner. We have a body.”

  “Where?”

  She told him.

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Chris, you travel with Noah and Tony. You don’t go anywhere alone. Got it?”

  “I understand. Be safe, honey. I’m worried about you too. This is a mess.”

  Yeah, she was aware.

  “Okay. Bye.”

  She hung up.

  “Okay, Alex, get us there. We have a scene to run, and I want to see what the hell this killer has left for us next. This is a weird case.”

  “At least the mob left you alone.”

  She sighed.

  “And now you jinxed us. What the hell, Alex? You know better.”

  He laughed and hit the gas.

  It was a good thing that they didn’t buy into that kind of bunk.

  They didn’t have to jinx themselves.

  They were screwed from the get-go on this one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Debbie Helton’s

  Home

  W hen they arrived at the address, the one that Max had given them, the place was surrounded by cops, flashing lights, and media. Well, this was going to be about as much fun as getting a tooth pulled. She couldn’t wait for the clusterfuck to begin.

  It started immediately, and at the line.

  The cop there refused to look at her, and when she cleared her voice, he asked for her ID. Her badge was NOT enough.

  She waited for him to study it, check the back, look around, and play his games.

  Alex on the other hand not so much.

  “Yo! Douchebag. Pick up the pace. If we showed with donuts, you’d move faster.”

  The man glared at him, but he wasn’t done. There was no way in hell he was going to let this cop treat his partner like shit. That’s not how he rolled.

  “Sorry, my bad! This is an Irish town. Beer works better, right?”

  The cop flipped them both off, but they ignored him. Instead, they ducked under the tape to check out their next victim from this nut job.

  “Way to make friends,” she teased, offering him a fist bump. “They will be cutting our brake lines when we aren’t looking, so we had better only drive uphill.”

  He was probably right.

  They headed toward the house, and inside, there was a patrol officer, trying to console the woman who was out of her mind with grief.

  “Ma’am, she found the body,” he said when they gave him that questioning look.

  “Can you take her outside and off the scene?” she asked. It would be hard to work if they were talking about her dead acquaintance.


  “On it.”

  He led her out.

  There was another uniformed cop there, and she began asking questions.

  “Name?”

  “Mine or hers?” he asked.

  Elizabeth looked over at him. “Well, yours, sugar. I wanna look you up later.”

  He grinned at her.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, so I can smack the stupid out of you. I don’t give a shit what your momma named you. I was talking about the dead woman on the floor!”

  He stopped smiling.

  “Bitch,” the cop muttered.

  “First thing you got right all day. Your fly is down,” she stated.

  He zipped up and gave her the details—begrudgingly and with a full-on blush to boot.

  “Her name is Debbie Helton, and she was found by her boss about thirty minutes ago. Apparently, she didn’t show up to work, and it was her day to open the shop.”

  “What’s the shop?”

  “Some frou-frou boutique that the tourists like,” he stated, reading off the name.

  “Got it. Go.”

  He continued, “She came in through the back door, found it open a crack, and found Debbie staring at the ceiling. She was naked, and she was likely raped.”

  “I think I’ll handle that assumption,” Chris said, heading her way with his medical bag and Noah following.

  Elizabeth noticed that the man was checking out his ass.

  In scrubs.

  Seriously.

  She knew because she did it a lot over the last few months as she was wishing for an actual relationship. She recognized the look in Noah’s eyes.

  Someone had the hots for her man.

  Elizabeth found that entertaining.

  “You can go,” Elizabeth said to the officer. Since they had the mob buying up cops, she didn’t want any of them near them—or the body.

  “What did I miss?” he asked.

  “Cranky cops and Feds with attitude,” she offered. “So, basically my normal day.”

  “That sounds about right,” Chris stated.

  She was well aware.

  Elizabeth focused on the two other feds. They needed to play divide and conquer.

  Time was limited.

  “Can you get the woman situated, grill her, and then maybe handle the media?”

  Alex laughed.

  “It looks like we get all the fun of a weeping woman. Awesome.”

  Yeah, she was aware.

  Chris crouched down to begin his routine while the techs scurried around the woman taking pictures.

  “Why was Noah checking out your ass?” she asked curiously.

  He looked up at her with his blackening eye, busted lip, and horrified look on his face.

  God!

  She found him so adorable.

  “Jesus, honey! He’s been hitting on me, and I didn’t catch it at first. Talk about oblivious.”

  “Well, that black eye does sort of make you sexy,” she whispered, making sure no one heard her.

  He snorted.

  “How exactly did you miss a man hitting on you, Christopher? I’m pretty sure it’s obvious.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I was thinking about my girlfriend and was in my own world. Somehow, I gave him the impression I was gay.”

  She tried not to laugh.

  It wasn’t easy.

  “Come on. Help a guy out!”

  She smiled at him.

  “Well, when you’re dressed up, you do look all kinds of hot.”

  “I was in scrubs.”

  “You look hot in them too. Trust me, I know. I check you out all the time.”

  Well, he wasn’t going to complain if his girlfriend checked him out.

  He wasn’t an idiot.

  “How were your interviews?”

  “One was very telling. Oh, and since we’re confessing the pickups that were going on…”

  He stopped her.

  “Wait. WE? Who hit on you?”

  Like he had to ask. Chris would bet money on her ex-partner. It rubbed him the wrong way.

  “Well, I had someone come on to me too.”

  He waited, liver probe in his hand.

  “Here’s where you tell me.”

  She snorted.

  “I had a Mistress offer to spank me, and then use me to get off.”

  He stared at her.

  It took a second for him to process that. Chris hadn’t seen that one coming. Today, he was off his game.

  “Are you being serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you take pictures?”

  She quickly leaned in and kissed him when no one was looking.

  Chris wiggled his eyebrows. “I want to hear all about this later and talk slow.”

  God!

  She missed him.

  “Anyway, our Mistress didn’t confirm his alibi. In fact, she showed me proof that he wasn’t there when he said he was. Professor Prince left in plenty of time to kill Mirel McGowan.”

  “Do you have a motive?”

  She grinned.

  “How does being dominated by a mistress and then leaving without getting off sound?”

  “Isn’t the point of hiring a hooker to get off? I mean, I’ve never done it, unless you count that one time you were playing hooker and I tried to buy you…”

  “And if you do, I’ll kill you. That will be my motive.”

  Chris winked at her.

  “Duly noted, sweetheart.”

  She was glad.

  “On another note,” he began, “that sucks for him but is good for you.”

  “Something foul is going on at Harvard. I can smell it from here.”

  Chris went back to his chart and testing of the body. There was silence as he worked, which was not the norm with her.

  “This has you off balance, huh?”

  “Yeah, it does. My gut says that school is hiding a mess, but how do I find out?”

  Well, with that, he could help.

  “I know a few professors there. If you’d like, we can take a ride over and maybe ask some questions. Educators gossip worse than single women.”

  “I’m a single woman, and I don’t gossip.”

  He smiled.

  “Who told me about Larry in accounting?”

  “Me.”

  “And about that thing Gabe likes in the bedroom.”

  “Me.”

  He waited for her to say something.

  “I am the worst human being on the face of the Earth. I deserved to be spanked.”

  Chris wasn’t going there. He did once when Charlie was on the phone. There were people around them.

  Lesson learned.

  “As I was saying, I can bring you, make some introductions, and you can do your thing.”

  She was good with that.

  Elizabeth simply didn’t know how they all connected.

  “I want you to do your basic tests here, and then head back to the morgue. I don’t want you out here, and you’re not wearing Kevlar,” she said, touching his chest.

  “Can you rub your hand on my leg?”

  “Where?” she asked, thinking he must have an itch or leg cramp from crouching.

  He pointed with his gloved finger.

  She did it, massaging his thigh.

  “Here?”

  “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

  “Why?”

  “So the last touch was of my girl and not some horny agent.”

  That cracked her up.

  “Technically, and I’ll point out that it’s really one in the same—if you think about it.”

  Well, Thank God for that!

  Yeah, Elizabeth had a high sex drive, and Chris did too. They worked well together for just one more reason.

  Immediately, he switched back to work mode as he did his pre-autopsy check.

  “Almost there,” he stated.

  She waited.

  “I’ll get the numbers, give you a TOD estimate, and then take her back in.”


  “Okay.”

  She said nothing else, and that worried him. Chris hated seeing his girl this stressed out.

  “What?”

  That’s when she blindsided him.

  “What do you have, Doc?”

  Yeah, the switch was flipped. She was done playing girlfriend, and she was back to being an agent. He could tell by her tone of voice—it lacked any humor—and her demeanor.

  She was serious as a heart attack.

  He shook his head and got to work by sticking the liver probe in her body. He did the math and then gave her the answer.

  “She was killed around eleven last night. Thirteen hours ago, give or take a few.”

  She made notes.

  “Rape?”

  He checked her thighs, willing to play along to a point. “Yeah, that’s a high probability.”

  “COD?”

  And that was where he stopped humoring her.

  “Come on, Doc. Play with me.”

  “Oh, I’d love to, but not when it comes to speculation on how someone died.”

  “I’ll save you from the gay agent.”

  He actually thought about it.

  It made her laugh.

  “No, Elizabeth. You go do your thing, and I’ll do mine. We’ll meet back up at the morgue in two hours.”

  She winked.

  “It’s a date.”

  When Noah came in, she decided to have some fun. Why the hell not?

  “Doc?”

  “What?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

  It was almost too easy.

  “Those scrubs accentuate your eyes and your ass. I like them.”

  He sputtered.

  “That’s for not playing. You never know what I’m going to do, darlin’, and not even you are immune. Noah, keep an eye on him and get them back to the morgue. I’m leaving you in charge of him. Be careful, he’s tricky. I hear he likes handcuffs.”

  “ELIZABETH!”

  Then she was gone.

  Elizabeth laughed all the way out to the other agent. She found him not far away as he was standing with the media.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  The questions began the second they saw her, and they came rapid fire too.

  She ignored them all.

  She had bigger fish to fry on this one.

  “Which one of you is Alex O’Malley?” she asked.

  The young one with the freckles raised his hand. “Are you going to talk to me? The commissioner said…”

 

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