“So you knew the guy who did the stabbing?”
A big sigh. “Yes. We were childhood friends.”
Madison didn’t want to go any further down memory lane. “Tell us what you know about Eden.”
“I know I didn’t kill her.”
“And?”
“She was flexible on the pole.” A creepy grin spread across his face and his eyes glazed over. The boy in his pants was conjuring the image of a scantily clad Zoe Bell.
Madison swallowed her disgust. “Did you ever see her arguing with anyone? Think hard,” Madison said, realizing her horrid choice in words.
Silence passed. The hamsters were just a-spinnin’ in that head of his.
Nick wagged a pointed finger, directed at neither of them.
More silence.
Madison glanced at Terry, who was fighting back laughter. She, on the other hand, was no longer amused. They didn’t have time to be wasting with this guy. “You either have or you haven’t.”
“Yep”—he was nodding—“I have.”
“All right, and?” Madison prompted him to continue. He seemed to need constant encouragement. Or he was just plain slow. Or both. He was a prime example of why drugs weren’t good for you.
“It was, say three weeks ago now. I didn’t see him with her, but I heard him cursing her name. I said, ‘Hey, pal, what’s your problem?’ He told me to shut the fuck up.”
Terry cringed.
Three weeks and a month were close enough to be the same guy as the one that had been arguing with Zoe backstage.
“Around what time was that?”
“Say around nine?”
“So continue to paint the picture for us. He just came out of the club saying her name…” More leading.
Nick shook his head. “He was already in the parking lot talking on the phone to someone when I saw him.”
“He was in this parking lot?” Madison asked.
“Ah, yeah.”
How could she have missed that? They had been so fixated on coverage of the back, they hadn’t thought about the lot. She spotted the camera right away.
Club 69 was located on a corner, and it was mounted on the stoplight. The watchful eye probably captured some of the lot. She bobbed her head in the camera’s direction for Terry’s benefit. Nick didn’t seem to even notice.
“He was saying something about Zoe not being who they thought she was,” Nick continued. “I just thought it was a jealous boyfriend, ya know.”
“Zoe? You knew her real name?” Madison asked.
“Yeah, but it’s… Never mind.”
“It’s what, Nick?” Terry pressed.
“I hired her for a lap dance.”
The bile came up into her mouth. She swallowed. Sour. Vile.
“And she just happened to tell you her real name?” Madison raised her brows.
“Not exactly. I just overheard someone call her that.”
“And that’s all?” She asked the question but had a feeling it just might have been that simple.
“Yeah, I swear.”
“This guy, then, what did he look like?” Terry asked.
“Blond hair, about thirty or so, average looks, and he was small. I don’t even think he was six foot. Probably half a foot shy of that.”
It was the same description they had received about the mystery man who had argued with Zoe. Now they had the man’s general height—if they could trust their source—and it lined up with Cynthia’s findings on the angle of the blows to Zoe and Charlie.
Nick said that he had never seen him in the club, only in the lot. But he could have already been inside and had the argument with Zoe. He obviously had something to reveal about the girl. He could have parked in the lot and walked around back.
“Did you catch the make of the car?” Madison asked.
Nick indicated his piece of crap. “I don’t really care about stuff like that. Four wheels are a mode of transportation, nothing more.”
“A color?”
“Blue.”
“Light blue, dark, bright?” Madison kept the questions rolling.
“Bright.”
“Two-door or—”
“Four.”
“Older model or newer?”
“There was some rust around the wheel wells. It was maybe six years old? I might not know cars, but rust… Rust, I know.”
Madison pulled out a card and handed it to Nick. “You think of anything else, you call me. You got it?”
“Sure. What about the time I served? I didn’t do the crime.”
“You’ll have to take that up with the prosecutor’s office.” She already had her back to him when Nick cursed. She wasn’t sure if the expletive was directed at her or the system in general.
They had come to check on surveillance cameras and to see Peggy and Lynda. And while they might not have spoken with the girls, they possibly had the mystery man on tape.
She slid behind the wheel of the department car, and Terry got into the passenger seat.
“‘Paint the picture for us’?” He laughed. “And you say I talk funny.”
“Oh, you do, Terry, you do.” He could tease her about her choice of words all he wanted. She was in too good of a mood—for a couple of reasons—for anyone to spoil it. She grinned. “By the way, I beat your ass back there.”
“How do you figure that? I was pushed.”
Madison laughed.
“What? I was.”
“Any excuse you can pull out. Just admit it. You were beaten by a girl.” She put the car into reverse.
Terry rambled, but she was basking in the headway they had made with the case.
-
Chapter 43
MADISON HAD CALLED CYNTHIA, AND she was going to obtain the camera footage from the city. Madison and Terry would be visiting Elias Bowers again. Someone had sex with Zoe Bell within the three days before her death, and he had claimed to have last seen her more than a week prior. And while his alibis may have checked out, Madison was curious if he had lied about the last time they had sex, and if so, why.
They tracked Elias down at the hospital, where he was only a quarter way into his twelve-hour shift.
He entered the waiting room where Madison and Terry were seated. “Come with me.”
He led them through a maze of corridors to his office. Etched on the glass window next to the door was ELIAS BOWERS.
The space was compact and organized. The base of a large-screen computer monitor took up a good chunk of his desk space.
Elias took a seat behind his desk and pointed to the two chairs across from him.
Terry sat, but Madison remained standing and perused the room.
A three-door, vertical filing cabinet was up against one wall. A potted plant with long branches shooting out from it fanned out atop the cabinet. Besides the flora and a framed motivational poster, the place was void of personal touches. Elias had zero personality, if one was to judge him based on this room.
“Did you find Zoe’s killer?” Elias’s voice cracked with his question. Was it from guilt or grief?
His eyes followed her gaze around the room, but she acted as if she weren’t aware of his attention on her.
“You said the last time you saw Zoe was over a week ago. Is that right?” she asked. Given what Zoe did for a living, it wasn’t a stretch to believe Zoe was having sex with more than one man, but she wanted to see if his answer would change.
“Yes.”
“And you are sure you don’t want to change that answer?”
Elias sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I swear. Am I a suspect again? My alibis should have cleared me.”
“There’s evidence that Zoe was sexually active within three days before her death,” Madison said. Maybe she should feel like sh
it for exposing Zoe’s lifestyle. Maybe he was better off carrying a false image of Zoe.
Elias’s face contorted, first leaning toward heartache, then rage. His chest heaved.
But it wasn’t time to play nice. There were three murders to solve. “So either you were lying about when you saw her last, or she was screwing around on you,” Madison continued.
The way Elias’s lips quivered twisted her gut. “You checked with the hospital. Confirmed my work schedule?”
“We did.”
“Then you know I was here the night she was killed.”
“You could have taken a dinner break.” She was pushing it. It would have taken a bit of time to orchestrate Zoe’s and Charlie’s murders. She held eye contact with him.
He was the first to look away. “No, I didn’t. It was too crazy.”
The door to his office burst open, and his friend Ben, the one who had been with him the day they’d first met Elias, rushed into the room.
“I just heard, Eli, that the detectives”—Ben’s eyes went over to Madison and Terry then back to his friend—“are here. Did they find out who killed Zoe?”
“We’re still working on that,” Madison answered even though he had asked Elias.
Elias wheeled closer to his desk and rested his forehead in his hands.
Ben went over to his friend. “What’s wrong?”
“You were right about her,” Elias said, his voice muffled.
“I was—”
Elias raised his head and met his friend’s eyes. “She was a slut.”
Ben glanced at Madison and Terry, and then went behind Elias and put his hands on Elias’s shoulders. The top of Elias’s head came to Ben’s collarbone.
Our mystery man is short…
“You have to let her go,” Ben said while lightly massaging Elias.
Elias shrugged him off. “I have to let her go?” He bound to his feet and turned toward his friend. “I was going to marry her.”
“You know she wasn’t any good. I told you that.” Ben’s face reddened from anger or maybe embarrassment. It was hard to tell.
Elias raked a hand through his mop of brown hair. “I didn’t believe you… I didn’t want to believe you.”
The man Nick saw in the parking lot had said that Zoe wasn’t who they thought she was. Could it have been Ben and the person he spoke to, Elias?
Ben’s structure came in around the estimated height for the killer. He was in his midthirties. But his hair was brown.
He could have colored it…
The two men were staring at each other, their torsos only inches apart. Both their chests were expanding with deep breathing.
“Ben, why don’t you sit?” Madison gestured toward the chair that had been offered to her.
Ben kept his eyes on Elias as he rounded the desk and took a seat.
Madison walked around in front of Ben. “Where were you two days ago from midnight to two?”
“Me?” Ben’s eyes pleaded with her and then petitioned Elias. “You think I did this?”
Elias dropped back into his chair and pulled out a desk drawer.
Madison braced a hand over her holster, ready to draw. Terry rose to his feet. This situation could go bad quickly. Two men, both visually emotionally charged over Zoe.
“I’m just getting—”
“Don’t move.” Madison walked behind the desk and spotted the aspirin bottle. She handed it to Elias.
“Gee, thanks.” He snatched the pills from her and took one out. He popped it into his mouth and swigged back a couple of gulps of water from the bottle on his desk. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Madison shifted her attention back to Ben. “Answer the question.”
“Where was I—”
“—two days ago. Midnight to two in the morning,” she reiterated.
“How the heck am I supposed to know?”
“It wasn’t that long ago. Do you have a memory problem?”
Ben’s eyes flickered, confirming the reason for the hue to his cheeks. Rage. “If you think I killed her, think again. She wouldn’t be worth going to prison for.”
“Hey, you watch how you talk about her,” Elias barked.
“Or what, Eli?”
Elias’s jaw jutted out and then stiffened. In the very least, Zoe’s murder had cast a wedge between the friends.
“Ten seconds before I haul your ass downtown,” Madison threatened. And she had every intention of following through if she needed to.
“I was at home. Sleeping,” Ben said.
“Can anyone testify to that?”
“My cat. If she could talk.”
Madison nudged Ben in the shoulder. “That’s it. Stand up. You’re coming down—” Madison’s cell phone rang, and with her aggravation already notched high, she could have thrown it across the room. She held up one hand, directing Ben to stay still, and with the other accepted the call.
“Knight,” she said, waiting a beat for the response. “You’re sure?” She let her eyes drift between Ben and Elias. “Tomorrow?” She listened for a moment more. “Okay.” She hung up and turned to Terry. She’d fill him in later, but it had been Cynthia. The feed from the camera would be to the lab by the morning. But that wasn’t everything. In fact, things were finally coming together.
“Where were we? Oh yeah.” She grabbed Ben’s arm and tucked her phone away with her other hand. “We were going downtown.”
“Eli, aren’t you going to say anything?” Ben begged.
“What do you want me to say? Maybe you did do this. You never liked her.” Elias swiveled his chair to face the window, turning his back on Ben.
-
Chapter 44
BEN HAD WHINED THE ENTIRE ride from the hospital. Or at least until she’d threatened to shoot him. It wasn’t something most cops would be proud of—and she’d be disciplined if it reached the sarge’s ears—but Ben’s silence made it easier to think. Before that, he’d kept repeating that he never would have killed Zoe because “she wasn’t worth going to prison for.” They’d at least gotten his last name out of him before he’d shut up: Dixon.
Ben wasn’t under arrest, but it was clear that he didn’t have a choice about whether or not he was coming along for the ride. Once they got Ben secured in the backseat of the department sedan, Madison filled Terry in on Cynthia’s messages outside of the car.
When they got to the station, she and Terry each gripped one of Ben’s arms and led him toward the interrogation rooms.
Sergeant Winston was outside his office, curling an index finger at her to imply that she was to stop what she was doing and speak with him.
“I’ll be there in a sec.” To Terry, she said, “Don’t start without me.”
She watched after Terry and Ben for a few seconds before going into the sarge’s office. “It’s really not a good time.”
“Shut the door.”
Lord, now what?
“He’s a suspect in our two murder investigations,” she said.
Winston stared past her to the door. “Close the door.”
She latched it. “This guy could have done it, Sarge. He has a good motive. He had something at stake when it came to Zoe Bell.” She might have been stretching the facts a bit.
“Which is all conjecture at this point.”
Was she that easy to see through?
“It will be proved. You’ll see.” She spun to leave, her frustration getting the best of her.
“Knight, not so fast. Sit.”
It was apparent that she didn’t have a choice. Now she knew how Ben felt. She dropped into a chair across from Winston.
“Sovereign tells me you’ve been putting your nose into his case.”
“And what is this, kindergarten? Besides, you and I have already had this conver
sation. His murder case is connected with my two cases. There’s no denying that.”
Winston tapped a flat hand on a piece of paper. “This report confirms that blood from your young victim—”
“Zoe Bell.”
“—was in that alley where the vagrant was found.”
She wasn’t going to ask him to say Charlie. He wouldn’t understand, and she didn’t have time for this discussion. Their first solid suspect was sitting in an interrogation room, and she was stuck here with Winston.
“Yet, you don’t think we’re dealing with a serial killer? See, Sovereign, he isn’t too sure about that,” Winston said.
“Well, Sovereign has always had a flair for the dramatic.”
Winston’s eyes summoned her to watch herself, but she wasn’t going to follow the silent directive.
“Sovereign hasn’t had a large profile case in a while,” she continued. “He wants to make a name for himself.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“Reality? I think I nailed it, actually. It’s about the media. But I’m not on board with this being a serial killer. That doesn’t sit well with you, though, I guess. You’d rather the headlines.”
“I’m warning you, Knight.”
“McAlexandar’s gone and you don’t like it.” Whoa, her words were coming out without a filter, but she couldn’t stop the torrent. “Now, Sovereign’s trying to butter up to you.”
Suddenly, all her fury about Troy being related to the police chief fired to the front of her mind. And her words fell flat. Sovereign must be trying to create a name for himself with Fletcher early. Maybe he knew about Troy’s relation to her.
“Are you still seeing that shrink?” Winston asked coolly.
Madison shot to her feet. “That has nothing to do with this. I’ve always taken shit because I’m the only female detective, and there are only a few female officers at that.”
“Oh, here we go again. Women’s lib, Knight?”
She was seething, and her pulse was racing. Shit really did float to the top.
“Well, things have changed if you haven’t noticed. Your boss is a woman,” Madison began, “and I have a suspect to question.”
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