by Deanna Lee
"She's eighteen."
"I'm not here about her. I'm here about Stacey Valteau."
"Not familiar.” He stood and walked over to a desk. “When did she get work done here?"
"Sometime during Mardi Gras."
"I keep a database on all the jobs we do—complete with pictures.” He called up a program and typed in her name. The results came back negative. “She didn't get work done here."
"Her brother was specific about the location. Do you have records for Janie Monroe or Donna LaRoux?"
He paused. “Those are the women who were murdered."
"Good, I'm glad to see you can read. Now, look them up.” She watched him do both searches and wasn't surprised when nothing showed up. “Do all of your employees use this system to input sales?"
"Yes, and they all do it. Our work is unique art, and we take great pride in it."
"Inspector Moray."
Kyra turned to the curtained entrance. Ana was standing there, her mouth firm. “Yes, Constable?"
"I've found something you need to look at."
Kyra nodded and followed Ana out of the room. She wasn't surprised when Henry trotted along behind her. The customers were gone, and a closed sign was posted on the door. Ana was standing by a section of pictures. Kyra's eye narrowed as she caught sight of the picture that held Ana's attention. It was a near replica of the dolphin the lab artist had produced with Janie's mother.
Kyra's gaze drifted to a sleek black cat with jewel-green eyes, and then to a dragon with fanciful fairy wings and light blue skin. “Who did these?"
"Aaron did those."
"Aaron who?"
"Aaron Belton. He's a student, works for me mostly during the summer. He did some extra hours over the last Mardi Gras to get some money for a spring break thing in Florida.” Henry motioned to the section. “He did those six during Mardi Gras this year. It's probably some of his best work."
"Do you still have these images stored digitally?"
"Yes."
"I want all the pictures that were taken during Mardi Gras. I'll need a list of all the people you've employed since January of this year."
"My employees have a right to privacy. I'm not just going to turn their names over to you without a reason."
"You can do it willingly, or I can have a CSU unit in here with a warrant tearing your place to shreds within an hour.” She met his gaze. “I also want a copy of that database."
"I won't do it."
Kyra turned and faced him completely. “I have three bodies and a jar full of ash and bone. Four victims inside a week, all killed by the same sick son of a bitch.” She jerked the picture of Janie Monroe's tattoo off the wall. “He cuts off their skin when he's done. He takes this art, as you call it, off their bodies."
Henry paled. “Will a copy on mini-disk do, or would you prefer a printout?"
"The mini-disk will be fine."
* * * *
The keycard for the lock to Noel's house had been secured to the bottom of a concrete alligator. A very large concrete alligator. Kyra grimaced and rubbed the small of her back as she walked up the sidewalk to the small ranch-style home. It was in a nice neighborhood, in a middle-class part of town. Stacy had grown up cherished but not particularly spoiled. There were no lights on in the house.
"The last time I was here, it was for Joy's funeral. You would have liked her. They were a happy couple.” Kyra shook her head as she shoved the keycard into the lock and the light flashed green. The locks popped, and she pushed open the door. The house was neat and sparse in décor. Kyra remembered the entire home being more cluttered; Joy Valteau had been something of a collector.
They found Stacy's room at the back of the house, a stolen yield sign prominently nailed to the door. Kyra laughed softly. “Why are kids so fascinated with street signs?"
"Who knows?” Ana shrugged. “I was always too scared do anything illegal."
The room was a study in chaos. Discarded clothes were tossed over most of the surfaces. “Look for her p-pc.” Kyra turned the lights on full and picked her way across the room to a small desk. A personal compu-station dominated most of the desk space. “We'll need to get a download of the station for Dr. Marcos to work on. She doesn't have any incoming messages."
"She probably has them being transferred to her comm-u or the p-pc.” Ana picked up a backpack off the floor and dumped the contents onto the bed, the only surface in the room that wasn't covered in clothes. “Well.” She pulled on a pair of gloves, then picked up a holo-button and displayed it. “Yet another girl who isn't old enough to vote with a button for the mayor's campaign."
Kyra frowned and turned to look at her. “Interesting.” She watched Ana processing Stacy's backpack for a few seconds before she sat down at the compu-station and pulled on her own gloves. Activating the station, she waited patiently while it engaged and the built-in keyboard slid out. “She's got her station coded."
"She was seventeen."
"So?” Kyra turned in her chair to look at Ana.
Ana shrugged and motioned around the room. “All seventeen-year-olds assume they have secrets that must be kept from their parents."
Kyra turned back to the screen. “Maybe she did.” She checked her comm-u for the time. “Let's finish this up and go off duty for the night. I'll send a team over in the morning to get the station's contents."
"I put in a request for a first-level background on Aaron Belton."
"Good. I'll certainly want to talk to him."
* * * *
Sundays were supposed to be Kyra's day of relaxation. Often she would go to Glory's salon and get herself massaged, exfoliated, buffed, and generally pleasured with creams that made her skin soft to the touch. Instead, she was sitting at her compu-station at home, inputting data from her p-pc and itching to get back to work. She knew if she showed up at the station, the commander would hear about it and she'd get a lecture.
Her home unit was just as powerful as the one she had at work, and it was easy to connect to the department and her files. Even though Kyra had worked very hard to keep her job out of her apartment, she now sat in a nightie going over the autopsy report for Janie Monroe. There was nothing new in the formal report. The oral she'd gotten from Desi and Jeffrey had been thorough.
There was still no answer on the background check for Aaron Belton. She hated having to wait.
The soft buzz of her comm-u shook her from her thoughts, and she stood and retrieved the wrist unit from her nightstand. She hit engage as soon as her earpiece was firmly in place. “Constable Salanti,” the comm-u announced.
Kyra frowned. She was really starting to hate that computerized voice in her ear. It was time she programmed the thing with her own voice. “Ana, what's up?"
"So, I'm sitting here going insane. I accessed Janie Monroe's financials and noticed that she rented a hotel room at the Continental Suites on Canal Street every other Thursday afternoon for a three-hour period. It occurred to me that we could go check that out. Maybe one of the staff..."
"Excellent. I'll pick you up in ten minutes."
"No. I'll pick you up in ten minutes."
Kyra chuckled. “Okay, you win."
* * * *
Ana whipped up to the curb in her sassy, cherry-red 2142 Corvette convertible just as Kyra was exiting the building. “I thought I'd introduce you to the love of my life."
"It's beautiful."
"I restored it myself.” Ana patted the dash. “She looks like a dream and rides like a monster."
Kyra settled herself in the passenger seat and pulled on her harness. “I can't even think when I last rode in a convertible."
Offering her a hair clip, Ana put the car in drive and shot out into traffic. “It belonged to my great-grandfather. I got it in the will. Man, were my brothers pissed."
Kyra pulled up her hair and watched with some amusement as Ana and her monster negotiated the bustling Sunday morning traffic. “I figured you'd be in church."
"A
lready been. I attend the six a.m. Mass. If I don't go early, I don't go at all.” She shrugged and gunned the car through a yellow signal. “And if I don't go, my mother finds out and calls to lecture me."
"She's in New York. How could she find out?"
"The only thing I can figure is that she can feel my guilt all the way up there.” Ana motioned to the dash workstation and grinned. “That and the charging system are the only nonstandard parts on the whole car. When I first got it, it was still running on gas!"
Kyra shook her head and winced when Ana cut off a man in a large, all-terrain vehicle. “You're going to get us killed."
"Nah, they'd have to catch us first.” She changed lanes abruptly again before swinging into the parking lot of the hotel with practiced ease.
Kyra pulled the clip from hair and dropped it in the middle console. “You are insane."
"Yeah, it sort of runs in the family."
They exited the vehicle and looked toward the entrance of the hotel. “They're probably going to make us get a warrant."
"Done.” Ana waved her p-pc. “I caught Judge Franken after Mass this morning and got him to sign off on it."
"Very efficient.” Kyra laughed. “When exactly did you access Janie Monroe's financials?"
"I'm going to plead the fifth,” Ana muttered. Kyra glared at her. “Okay, fine, so I didn't get much sleep last night."
"You realize that obsession isn't healthy."
"It doesn't seem to be detrimental to your health."
The lobby of the hotel was beautifully appointed and had the appearance of an elegant and luxurious establishment. However, since Kyra knew they rented rooms by the hour and by the day, the scene was ruined. She supposed most couples meeting in a hotel like this would consider it a romantic adventure. It was cheap and tawdry despite its trappings.
She pulled out her badge and laid it out on the counter in front of the clerk. “Is there a manager on duty?"
"No. But there is a manager on call."
Kyra looked at the young man's nametag. “Well, Thaddeus, I'd like you to give your manager a call and tell her that I'm here."
"Right away, Inspector."
Ana watched him hurry away and nudged Kyra. “When do I get to bully people?"
"When you get a shiny gold badge."
"Man, I gotta take that test."
Thaddeus came back to the counter and cleared his throat nervously. “The manager is on her way. In the meantime, is there anything that I can do for you?"
Ana pulled out her p-pc and pulled up an image of Janie Monroe when she was alive and turned it to face him. “Have you seen this woman before?"
He frowned and then nodded slowly. “Well, yes, I have."
"Have you seen her here, in the hotel?” Kyra asked.
Reaching out, he took the p-pc and studied the image closer. “I don't know. I'm sorry.” He handed the device back to Ana and shook his head. “We have a lot of traffic during the afternoon and evening hours. If you have a name, we can look it up."
"Janie Monroe.” Kyra watched him move to a compu-station. “You haven't asked to see our warrant."
Thaddeus looked toward her. “The manager told me to give you anything you asked for."
"Why?"
"Well, you do own seventy percent of the hotel,” a woman said as she walked out of the back office directly behind Thaddeus.
Kyra's mouth dropped open and then snapped closed quickly. “Actually, my grandmother owns seventy percent of the establishment."
"And you are her only heir."
"You're the manager?"
"Yes, I live on the property. I have a private entry. My name is Janice Friendly.” She held out her hand and smiled when Kyra took it. “I hope that Thaddeus has done his level best to assist you."
"I just need some information on a woman who rented a room here, frequently."
"I trust that your search warrant is, in fact, in order?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then the rest is easy to take care of.” She walked over to Thaddeus. “Well?"
"There hasn't been a Janie Monroe registered at the hotel in the last two years."
"Her credit card statement indicates that she was here at least every other Thursday for the past eight months.” Ana moved down the counter to stand in front of him. “Can you check by credit card number?"
"Yes, of course."
Ana called up the number and then gave her p-pc over to the clerk. She looked toward Kyra. “We should have assumed she wouldn't have used her real name."
"Yeah, using a false name would add to the mystery and excitement.” Kyra sighed and looked toward Janice. “Is my grandmother aware that you lease rooms in this hotel by the hour?"
"Yes, of course. Our biggest clientele base is the sex service down the street. We have a license for sex sales as long as both parties are of age and the service is being rendered by a duly authorized escort."
Kyra swallowed back a mouthful of curse words and turned to look at Ana. “Results?"
"The room she paid for was always registered to man named Jake Waterman.” She motioned to Thaddeus. “He's transmitting the records to my p-pc."
"I'll need copies of your security recordings of the lobby on the days she was here."
"We don't have any.” Janice raised an eyebrow when Kyra turned to glare at her. “Our clientele would hardly feel comfortable if we had vid-surveillance in our lobby. We run an old-fashioned business."
* * * *
Kyra settled down in the passenger seat and turned to look at Ana with a frown. “An old-fashioned business?"
"Well, they do call it the oldest profession.” Ana chuckled when Kyra growled. “You honestly didn't know?"
"Hell, no, I didn't know my grandmother owned a freaking brothel!"
"Now, technically, it's not a brothel. They just provide...” Ana trailed off when she chanced a glance in Kyra's direction. “I swear I won't tell anyone."
"You're damn right you won't.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and looked out into traffic. “We'll need a full background check for Jake Waterman."
* * * *
"It's not a big deal, you know."
Kyra closed her eyes and shook her head. “Well, it isn't your grandmother who owns a whorehouse."
"Whorehouses aren't legal, just like street hookers aren't legal. Escort services are legal, and legalizing them did a lot for women's rights. It definitely ensures a better standard of living."
"Just because it's pretty and legal doesn't make it more than it is.” She wiggled on the stool she was sitting on and leaned forward on Alex's breakfast bar. He was cooking dinner for them. “You know we could have ordered out?"
"You don't trust my cooking?"
"I've never eaten your cooking. So, we'll just have to see.” She rolled a bottle of water between her hands while looking at him. “You do look sexy in that apron."
"Talk to me about what's bothering you."
"It probably isn't a conversation you want to have on an empty stomach."
"Don't treat me like I'm weak."
Kyra's brows shot up at that. She took a deep breath. “I didn't realize that I was. Though it may be unclear at times, I am aware that you have the dick in this relationship."
Alex turned and leaned against the counter. “Okay, fine, so we agree. Tell me."
"I'm getting nowhere fast on this son of a bitch.” She put the bottle down and frowned. “All of this is coming at me fast and mean. He's working undeterred by my efforts, as if he knows every move I make and all the ones I would have made. There's always evidence, but never enough to lead me to him."
"Is it possible that he does know what you're thinking and doing?"
"I would like to say no. I mean, the city did spend forty million dollars last year securing the police network for the city. If he's broken into the system...” Kyra shrugged. “Hell, Computer Sentinel spends a great deal of time testing the system. They haven't found any holes yet, but that does
n't mean there aren't any."
"Okay, let's say for the sake of argument that your computer is secure."
"That would mean that he's inside the system in some way."
"Or he has someone inside for him."
"No.” Kyra shook her head.
"Come on, Kyra, you know it makes sense. If he knows the details of your investigations, it's because he has access to your work."
"That would mean I have a bad cop on my hands,” Kyra snapped. “And that's bullshit. District 4 is a large house, and we cover a lot of the city, but it isn't so large that a bad cop would go unnoticed for very long."
Alex went back to his grill-top and nodded. “I'm sure you're right."
Kyra rubbed her face. “Fuck, you know I'm not."
He laughed. “Are you telling me that you hadn't already considered that?"
"I haven't let myself think about it.” The admission was something of an embarrassment; she prided herself on thinking of everything and anything. “I'm not a brick in the blue wall. I sure as hell wouldn't shield a bad cop if I knew of one."
"But you haven't made any effort to find out if there is one."
"Fuck off."
He grinned. “I figured we'd get to the physical activities after dinner."
* * * *
Kyra stretched out her legs and leaned back on the bench in the shower stall as Alex entered. “I love your shower. It's like a palace in here."
"I had it designed after a shower bath I found in a hotel in Morocco.” He pushed a few buttons and started the showerheads. “It's a little different, but I think I only improved on the design."
"The steak was good."
"Good. I doubt the food poisoning will set in immediately."
She laughed at his dry tone and stood from the bench. Slowly she moved her hand down his back to his ass. “That is one great ass, Mr. Waters."
"Yours isn't bad, either."
"You realize that I do three hundred squats a week to keep my ass looking like that.” She gasped a little when he pressed her against the shower wall. “The tile is a little cold."
"It'll warm up.” He nuzzled her neck and then bit gently into her shoulder. “You are getting a full eight hours of sleep tonight."
"I never get a full eight hours."