by Blake Pierce
Still, when she closed her eyes in search of sleep, there was something sinister at the core of all of those things. She could not help but see the floor of the master bathroom in the Woodwards’ house and all of that blood mingling with the water, as if the world itself was trying to wash any evidence away.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Kate woke up to the ringing of her cell phone. She had not set an alarm, deciding to let herself sleep as late as she could. But when she grabbed at the phone, she saw that the blue digital letters on her alarm clock read 8:05.
Eight hours of sleep, she thought to herself. When was the last time that happened?
She saw DeMarco’s name on the display and got excited. Maybe something big had occurred last night, some big break in the case perhaps. Despite the calming talk with Jimmy last night, her heart could not help but leap at the prospect of some exciting news involving the events that had been taking place in Amber Hills.
“Hey, DeMarco,” she answered. “Miss me already?”
“The way this morning is going, yeah…I miss you tons. Duran called me at seven to let me know that two agents are on their way down to work this with me. One is straight out of the academy.”
“You’ll manage it,” Kate said. “Something has to turn up eventually.”
“Well, we do have a few updates. First of all, the medical exam came back early this morning. There were absolutely no signs of sexual intercourse. So I guess the cut to the genitals was symbolic.”
“Or just the killer having some morbid fun,” Kate pointed out.
“We also picked up what looks to be a print. It was right along the edge of the shower door. But it was so wet, we don’t think it’s going to amount to much. Some hair was also pulled from the drain but we’re expecting it all to belong to the Woodwards.”
“Thanks for the updates,” Kate said. “But you don’t have to do that. I’m off of it. You don’t owe me updates.”
“I know. But I know it has to piss you off to be put on something like this after a year away only to be pulled off of it. It’s honestly not fair to you. I wonder if maybe I’m more pissed about it than you are.”
“You might be,” Kate said, already thinking of visiting the hospital to see Melissa and Michelle sometime after breakfast.
“You want me to stop calling you?” DeMarco asked.
“No, of course not. I appreciate it. I just don’t want you to feel that you owe it to me.”
“Look, if we aren’t going to be partners, I’d like to consider you a friend,” DeMarco said. “And that’s hard for me to say. So yes…as a common courtesy, I’m going to keep you updated.”
“In that case, I look forward to your call. Best of luck out there, Agent DeMarco.”
Kate ended the call and made herself the day’s first cup of coffee. She sipped at it while watching the news, wondering if she’d make breakfast herself or grab some on the way to the hospital. These are the kinds of important decisions I have to make while retired, she thought grimly.
It was wild to think of just how fast-paced yesterday had been. Compared to the humdrum state of this morning, it was almost surreal.
When her phone rang again, she was expecting it to be DeMarco. Maybe she had finally met the new agents and wanted to complain about them. Or maybe the print from the shower door had come back and—
But there was no name on the display of her phone, just a number she did not recognize. She answered it hesitantly. She’d never trusted calls from numbers that weren’t programmed into her phone—a lesson she’d learned in her life inside and outside of the bureau.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Is this Agent Wise?” a man’s voice asked.
She nearly corrected the man to inform him that the “agent” in front of her name was no longer accurate. But she said nothing, curious to see what the call was about.
“Yes, this is Agent Wise,” she said, not minding the minor lie.
“This is Daryl Woodward,” he said. “Chief Budd gave me your number last night and I remember you told me to call you if I thought of anything else.”
The safe and wise thing to do would have been to stop him right there and redirect him to DeMarco. But then there was the steadfast agent still residing over her, a part of her that not only did not want to extend the process any longer for Daryl Woodward, but also wanted to see if she could do anything at all to help with the case that wouldn’t get her scolded later down the line.
“Did you come up with something?” she asked.
“Maybe. You asked if they were all involved in anything together, like a club or group or something. I’m pretty sure they were all part of this class at the gym. To be sure, I checked Taylor’s planner. She had the class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at four in the afternoon. She would have been coming back from it last night. I…well, a while back I found some text messages on her phone between her and her friends. Group texts, you know? They were talking about the class. Julie and Wendy got a little raunchy about the instructor.”
“By raunchy, do you mean sexually suggestive?”
“As in Julie mentioned licking the sweat off of his chest. But somewhere in there, Wendy also mentioned how the guy was sort of a douchebag. There was a lot of suggestive talk and I think Lacy might even have slept with him. I don’t know. I’m not proud of it, but I took pictures of the conversations, just in case Taylor ever deleted them. I wanted them as proof that her friends were nothing but trouble. I can send you the conversation if you’d like.”
“That would be great. And do you happen to know the name of the class and the instructor?”
“It’s all in the thread,” Daryl said. “I’ll send the pictures over to you as soon as we get off of here. The class was at New You Fitness. You know where it is?”
“I do,” Kate said. “Thanks for this. This could potentially bring up a lead.”
Daryl sounded hopeful when he ended the call. Kate wasn’t sure if it would bring up a lead or not, but if the messages were as suggestive as he was letting on, then it could be very helpful indeed.
True to his word, Daryl sent the text thread over within a few minutes. He sent it as a series of screenshots which Kate read while drinking her coffee. She read it all, noting some of the more surprising comments. Line by line, she became more and more certain that she did indeed have a lead at her fingertips. The messages were from two weeks ago, making it seem as if she were reading the final thoughts of ghosts.
Anyone else have dirty dreams of Julio last night? Julie had asked the group.
My God, Lacy said. I didn’t even wait to sleep. I went to the bedside drawer and utilized some hardware while Peter was asleep. Good dreams?
Yeah. I was licking the sweat off of his chest, Julie said. Tasted like wine.
Weirdo, Wendy said.
That man IS fine, Taylor replied. I’d keep going to cycling class until my joints got old and busted if he’d keep teaching.
Speaking of joints, how’d he treat your knees, Lacy? Wendy asked.
They still sting, but GOD it was worth it. He texted me later and said he’s keeping my panties in his gym bag as a reminder. Says it turns him on. He’s good at pretending it didn’t happen, but the way he was looking at me yesterday…
Stop it, Julie said. Or I’m going to get MY hardware.
That big one? Wendy asked. I can hear that fucking thing all the way over here at my house.
The messages went on from there, but that was the section that Kate honed in on. It did seem to suggest that Lacy had, at some point, slept with the instructor of their cycling class.
Looks like Lacy was seeing someone on the side while her husband did his own thing after all, Kate thought.
And just like that, she had a lead.
The only question that remained was whether or not she could pass it off to DeMarco and remain uninvolved.
The answer, of course, was no. She smiled as she called up DeMarco. The younger agent answered right awa
y. “I thought I was supposed to be calling you,” DeMarco said.
“Well, I got something. How long before those other agents show up?”
“About an hour, I guess.”
“Okay. Meet me at your motel in twenty minutes. I might have something.”
“Like what?”
Already headed out the door, Kate relayed her conversation with Daryl Woodward and the text thread he had sent her. With a sudden change to the morning’s schedule, it looked like she’d be picking up breakfast on her way out after all.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
The early morning crowd was thin at New You Fitness. A few people were using the treadmills and only a handful of others were scattered around the various stations. Kate could see all of this from the front desk, as the gym area was visible through clear Plexiglas to the left of the desk. The place was a little too small to be considered an actual gym but it was also much cleaner than a typical gym.
With DeMarco at her side, Kate approached the desk. A young woman who was likely a part-timer with college classes in between looked up at them with a smile. “How can I help you ladies this morning?”
“We’re looking for a man named Julio Almas,” DeMarco said. “Your website says he’s the instructor for cycling classes and Keto workouts.”
“Oh, sure,” the young woman said. “He should be back in Room Six. He’s got a Keto class starting in about twenty minutes.”
The agents nodded their thanks and headed around the desk where a thin corridor housed several private rooms. On the drive to the fitness center, they had discussed the best approach to take. It was agreed that DeMarco would take the lead just in case things got out of hand. The fewer chances Kate had to reveal that she was not an active agent—or to lie about it, for that matter—the better.
They came to Room 6 and found only one man inside. He was laying out several mats on the floor, getting ready for his next class apparently. DeMarco knocked on the door and walked inside, not waiting for the man to respond.
He turned to face them and Kate saw right away why Julio might be the subject of needy women’s fantasies. He was of average height but was built like a Greek statue. His pecs and abs were just about visible through the tight tank top he wore. His long black hair was slicked back in what kids were now calling a “man-bun.” He had dark eyes that were instantly captivating and every feature on his face seemed to complement everything else. To say the man was handsome was an understatement. Kate couldn’t help but wonder if he had been hired to get more women to sign up for private classes.
She also wondered whether, if Lacy had been sleeping with him—even just the one time—if she was the only one.
“Need some help?” Julio asked.
“Yes, in fact,” DeMarco said, keeping her cool. “We’d like to speak with you about a few recent participants in one of your cycling classes.” She showed her ID and introduced herself. Kate watched him closely and saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. It was the first time since walking into the crime scene at Julie Hicks’s house that she thought they might have something here.
“You mean Mrs. Hicks and Mrs. Thurmond, right?”
“And you know that how, exactly?” DeMarco asked.
“Word gets around. It’s terrible. They were both murdered, is that right?”
“That’s exactly right,” Kate said. “Another of your members was killed last night as well. Taylor Woodward.”
He seemed legitimately shocked, but there still seemed to be something off about him.
“We’re here because your cycling class seems to be the one thing that linked them together aside from the occasional wine drinking session and hanging out at the pool. Do you know if they had any relationships established with your other students?”
“I can’t say for sure. I don’t know. I really didn’t know them that well. Just enough to say hello when they came into class.”
“You sure about that?” Kate asked. “You didn’t know Lacy Thurmond any better than your other students?”
The question rocked him and if he tried at all to hide it, he failed miserably. “I…I don’t understand why you’re here,” he said. He was looking around the room like a caged animal seeking a way out.
“Did you have any sort of physical relationship with Lacy, Taylor, or Julie?”
He nodded his head nervously. “Yes. I did. I slept with Lacy. But it was just one time. We were planning on a second but then I heard about what happened and…”
“Was the sex mutual?” DeMarco asked.
“Yes.”
“How did it happen?” DeMarco asked.
“I’m not comfortable with this line of questioning,” Julio said.
“Okay then,” DeMarco asked. “Was it in her home?”
“No. It was here, actually. In the changing room after one of my shifts.”
“And did you keep a souvenir?” Kate asked.
It was clear that Julio was truly shocked now. He shook his head violently as his bottom lip started to tremble.
“Please just tell the truth,” Kate said. “You are in no trouble for hooking up with a married woman. We just need a better idea of how she spent her last few days before she was murdered.”
“I…I have the underwear she was wearing. They’re in my gym bag.”
“Is that all?” Kate asked.
“Yes. You have my word.”
“Where is that gym bag?” DeMarco said. “Let us have a look inside and we might be able to get out of your hair before your next class starts.”
“No, no…you need a warrant, right?”
“If you choose to go that route, yes,” Kate said. “But then we can go get it and make sure to come visit you again with that warrant right in the middle of one of your classes. So really, it’s your choice.”
Julio looked angry now but he started walking toward the door, waving him on behind him. He led them to the end of the hallway, to a room with a decorative sign that read STAFF ONLY. The room was a small one, boasting only a single table, several chairs, and an entire back wall of small lockers. He went to the one with his name marked on a piece of masking tape and popped it open.
“Here,” he said, throwing a well-worn gym bag onto the table. He was clearly pissed off but was more driven by his need to get them out of there before his next class.
Kate stopped herself from stepping forward, reminding herself that DeMarco had to take the lead today. She could only imagine the look on Duran’s face if he knew she was taking part in this. She nodded to DeMarco and the younger agent unzipped the bag. She rummaged around for a few moments and then, seemingly for no reason, yanked her hand back.
Kate, DeMarco, and Julio stood in a tight group, in silence. Kate locked eyes with DeMarco, trying to figure out what was wrong—what had happened to cause DeMarco to pull her hand away so quickly.
And then she saw the blood on the side of DeMarco’s hand.
“What the hell?” Julio said, taking a cautious step forward.
DeMarco’s hand went to her sidearm as she wheeled around on him. “Don’t move,” she said. “Stay right there. One more step forward and I will draw my gun.”
Kate stepped forward, closer to the bag. She peered inside as, undaunted, DeMarco reached back inside. This time when DeMarco’s hand came out, she brought a pair of white lace panties with her. The white of the material made the dark red of the blood stand out.
The blood was not brand new, but it was fresh enough to stick to DeMarco’s skin. DeMarco looked inside and then back to Kate. “Have a look,” she said.
Kate looked into the bag. She saw Julio’s gym shorts, his wallet, and a pair of black gloves. The gloves had more blood on them, as did the nylon bottom of the bag. Like the blood on the panties and DeMarco’s hand, it was still relatively new.
“Against the wall,” DeMarco said, facing back toward Julio.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “What the hell is going on?”
“You’re under arrest,”
DeMarco said. “If these are indeed Lacy Thurmond’s underwear, you’ve got a ton of explaining to do. And this blood is fresh…not Lacy’s but maybe from someone else you’ve seen recently?”
“The panties are Lacy’s, yes. But I have no idea where the blood came from!”
“You can recite all of that in an interrogation room,” DeMarco said as she took out her set of cuffs and applied them to Julio’s wrists.
“What the fuck?” Julio yelled.
Kate looked back into the bag. The blood wasn’t exactly pooled up, but there was enough of it to be glistening. She looked for any sign of a weapon, but there was none.
Seems almost too perfect, she thought. Of course, if this last murder was based on passion and he maybe felt a sense of finality or accomplishment, maybe he got lazy in his clean-up.
With Julio still facing the lockers and his arms cuffed behind his back, DeMarco looked back to Kate. “What now?” she asked. It seemed like a loaded question but Kate knew what she meant. If she wasn’t supposed to be on the case, how should they proceed?
But there was the blood and the panties…an admitted affair to top it all off. Kate was pretty sure she could make the call and be in the clear.
“I’ll start by calling Budd,” she said. “And then I’ll call Duran.”
“You sure?” DeMarco asked.
The truth was, she wasn’t sure. But she went ahead and placed the first call to Budd before she could lose her nerve.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Kate was waiting outside of the interrogation room in Chief Budd’s precinct. The last hour had been a particularly active one. First of all, there had been the small swarm of policemen who had come to New You Fitness to apprehend Julio. At about the same time, the two agents had arrived from DC to assist DeMarco. They were understandably pissed off to find that the case seemed to already be wrapped up. They waited outside of the interrogation room, too.
It was killing Kate not to partake in the questioning. But when she had called Duran to update him, he had been irate. Kate had expected him to be a little upset, but not as angry as he appeared to be through the phone. As a form of punishment, he’d ordered her to let DeMarco handle the interrogation and that she, Kate, was not to even watch through any sort of surveillance or monitors within the interrogation room.