Sinful Deception

by Mel Comley

  “Which means her parents never reported it,” Tamara said. “Let’s keep looking; we’ve got two more to find.”

  Alex rubbed her eyes. “I need a break. My eyes are blurring. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

  Crimshaw rose. “Not without me, you don’t.”

  “I’m only going out to the front porch, okay? I’ll even leave the door open. You can make some coffee while I’m gone.”

  “You take one step off that porch, and I’m coming after you.” Crimshaw headed for the coffee pot. “Where’s Nobby, anyway? He makes the best coffee.”

  “He’s downstairs with Blake, working on the profile.” Tamara turned the page on the yearbook she was thumbing through. “I hope they’re having better luck than we are.”

  “Well, somebody needs to have a birthday or bake a cake. There’s not even a decent cookie in this house,” Crimshaw grumbled.

  Alex stepped into the fresh air and breathed deeply. Midnight was always beautiful—dark enough to heighten the senses, and yet the light of the moon gave everything a magical quality. It was nice to imagine Bob was somewhere looking up at the stars in the UK. She’d promised him she would stay in touch, but time had passed quickly, and she’d broken that promise. Knowing Bob, he would be fast asleep, cuddled up with his wife.

  She heard footsteps and turned, smiling. “Crimshaw, I told you…” Her voice trailed off as she stared into Blake Morgan’s intense blue eyes. “Sorry, I thought you were Crimshaw.”

  He stood beside her. “I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. Playing games with a man like Samael is dangerous.”

  “I thought we agreed I would be nice to him, talk to him, and try to get him to open up to me. That’s all I was doing.”

  “We agreed when we were all parties to those conversations, Alexandra. That way we all knew what he was thinking, saying, and maybe even planning.”

  “I screwed up. I admit it. But he told me our calls were personal now and he would punish me if I shared them with the team.” Alex sat on the first step. “I couldn’t survive another of his punishments. At least not mentally or emotionally. Did you finish your profile?”

  “As much as I could. I’ll share it with the team when we go in.” He sat down next to her and reached into his pocket. “I never gave you your birthday present.” He held out a small white box tied with a red bow.

  Alex took the package and stared down at it. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  “Okay, you talked me into it.” She untied the ribbon, removed the top of the box, and lifted out a silver pendant necklace. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Saint Michael, the Archangel of protection. I figured you could use a little.” He reached for the necklace. “Turn around.”

  Alex sat perfectly still as Blake placed the necklace around her neck and lifted her hair to fasten the clasp. She’d expected it to feel cool against her skin, but it was warm, or maybe it was the electrical shocks that ran through her as his fingers brushed against her skin. “Thank you, Blake.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stood and reached down to help her up. “Are you coming in?”

  “Give me a minute.” She listened to his footsteps, her hand rising to touch the pendant. Alex had given Scarlet one just like it, three weeks before the Escape Artist killed her.

  ~

  Candy leaned against the wall, watching as Rico rolled her mother’s body in plastic. “So what are you going to do with her?”

  “Bury her, so the body won’t be found for months or even years.”

  “Why not cremate her? Then the body will never be found. And even if the ashes are found, DNA doesn’t survive.”

  Rico stopped what he was doing. “We don’t have the equipment to do that.”

  “I know a funeral home that does. It’s a little after midnight; we could be there in half an hour. The process takes a couple of hours, but we wouldn’t have to stay.”

  “What about MacIntyre? One of us should stay and watch him.”

  “If he lives, he lives. If he doesn’t, we’ll hand him over to Samael in a black bag.”

  Rico tossed her a set of keys. “Bring the car around back and open the trunk.”

  ~

  Candy popped the lock on the rear door of the funeral home and motioned for Rico to go through. She closed the door behind them and turned on a flashlight. “Follow me.”

  “How did you know about this place?” Rico asked, shifting the bundle he was carrying.

  “MacIntyre worked here for a couple of weeks. He brought me and my mom here one night to torch some guy he’d killed. Here we go—right through this door.”

  She closed the door behind them and flipped on the light. “We don’t have to worry in here. There are no windows, and no light seeps out. Bring her over here.” Candy opened the door to the chamber. “Push her in.”

  Rico placed the body in the chamber. “What now?”

  “Now the fun begins.” She went to the computer board next to the chamber, pushed a button to close the door, and started the process. “It takes a few minutes to warm up. After that, we can leave if you want.”

  “This place gives me the creeps. I’ll wait for you outside and keep a lookout in case somebody comes.”

  Candy grinned. “I’ll be out in a minute, Rico. I want to say goodbye to Mother.” She hummed a tune as she walked around the chamber, waiting for the sound of the flames igniting. Just like Val’s reluctance to kill Samael, Rico’s squeamishness disappointed her. Now that I’m Val’s daughter, if she died, would I inherit her wealth? She would have to delve into Val’s past, carefully of course, to see if she had any other family members. The thought of all that money and no Val was appealing.

  The flames ignited, and Candy tapped on the chamber. “I hope you burn in hell, Mother, but in case you don’t, you’re burning now.”

  She waited another fifteen minutes to be sure the process was underway. She’d missed the pleasure of torturing her mother, but destroying the body was almost as good. Candy didn’t know what Samael had planned for MacIntyre, but if he didn’t die, she wanted to bring him to the crematory. The thought of looking into his eyes as he was placed inside the chamber, knowing what was going to happen but helpless to stop it, excited her. The sound of her laugh echoed in the small room. It was a shame Rico hadn’t stayed; she had an itch that needed to be scratched.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Alex woke to the sound of Crimshaw’s roaring laughter, rolled over, and groaned. It’s Sunday, dammit. Don’t these people ever sleep? She opened one eye and peeked at the alarm clock. It was already nine thirty. Dixie would be sitting somewhere with her legs crossed. Rolling out of bed, she pulled on last night’s jeans and a T-shirt then bent over to slip on her shoes. The tiny pendant swung forward, reminding her why she’d slept so late. Not today, Alex. You still have two Jane Does to find, and the Escape Artist is still out there somewhere.

  Running her fingers through her hair, she glanced at Cinders, still sleeping peacefully on the second pillow. “Lucky cat.” Alex walked into the kitchen as Crimshaw let go with another laugh. “Why didn’t somebody wake me?”

  Crimshaw stood, crossed to the coffee pot, and poured her a cup. “Nobby ordered us not to. Said he’d never cook again if we did. Sit down, Alex. You look like something the cat dragged in.”

  She flopped into the nearest chair. “Thanks, Crimshaw. You’re great for a girl’s ego early in the morning. And what was so funny?”

  “We were discussing funny last names. I told them about Hardmeat.” Crimshaw took a sip of coffee then spewed it with a belly laugh. “I’d have given a month’s pay to see your face when you were introduced.”

  Tamara rolled her eyes. “Men! Nobby left your plate in the microwave, Alex. Want me to grab it for you?”

  Alex shook her head. “I need lots of coffee this morning. Where are Nobby and Blake?”

  “They ran into headquarters to meet with
the chief and Derek. Forensic reports are in, and Blake wanted to run the DNA through all the systems to see if they could get a hit.”

  “DNA?” Alex perked up. “Where did they find it?”

  “The Granger trailer.” Tamara refilled Alex’s cup. “It didn’t match either of the Grangers’ or MacIntyre’s. This sample was found in the girl’s room.”

  “Let’s hope they get a hit through CODIS,” Alex said. “How many yearbooks do we still have to go through?”

  “Two.” Reefer held them up. “The ME’s office located Penny Jameson’s parents. Derek sent an officer out to question them and to take them in to identify the remains.”

  “It’s been almost a week, Reefer. How long will they hold the bodies at the morgue if no one identifies them?” Alex asked.

  “If it’s believed they have family members, such as the case at hand, they can store them at the morgue up to a month,” Reefer replied. “State laws now require unclaimed bodies be offered up for medical study first, and if no one wants them, then they’re buried.”

  “Give me one of those yearbooks.” Crimshaw moved his cup and plate to the side. “We need to find out who those little girls are.”

  “I’ll take Dixie for a run and be right back to help.” Alex rose and placed her cup in the sink. “Tamara, do you want to join me?”

  “Looks like you’re on dish duty, Reefer.” Tamara tossed him a towel. “Make sure you rinse them this time.”

  ~

  Alex let out Dixie’s leash and allowed her to run, jogging to keep up. A comfortable silence set in between her and Tamara as they ran three laps around the park. “Wow, I’m out of shape.”

  “Looks like Nobby and Blake are back. Another round, or are you ready to head in?” Tamara asked.

  “Let’s head in. I want to hear what they found out and help Crimshaw look through those books.”

  The general mood around the table was solemn when she and Tamara walked in. “I take it from your faces we didn’t get a hit?” Alex asked.

  Blake shook his head. “Guess it was too much to hope it would be that easy.”

  “Samael is British. What if this is his DNA? Maybe we should run it through NDNAD.”

  “Hell of an idea, Alex.” Nobby beamed at her. “Can we do that?”

  “Takes a couple of days to get a request to go through”—Reefer stared at Alex— “unless you could ask your buddies to run it.”

  “DI Jordan isn’t my biggest fan, but Bob might do it for us if I can reach him. It’s about three p.m. there now. He should be home. I’ll step outside and make the call if that’s okay with everyone?”

  The team nodded.

  Alex dialed the number and waited. Odd that she was just thinking about Bob last night. She hadn’t talked to him in over eight months.

  “Hello.”

  “Bob, it’s Alex.”

  “Alex? Where are you, love? Have you come home?”

  “No, Bob. I’m still in the States. How are the wife and kids?”

  “Good, getting fat like me. But I don’t suppose you called to ask me that.”

  “I have a favor to ask you.”

  “You know I’d do anything for you, Alex. What do you need?”

  “We have a DNA sample, and we’ve run it through CODIS but didn’t get a hit. I need you to run it through NDNAD for me.”

  “You know it’s Sunday, right, love?”

  “I know, Bob, but this is important.” She lowered her voice. “It may be him.”

  “Who? Shit, you don’t mean the Escape Artist?”

  “Yes. He came out of hiding about two weeks ago and is making my life a bloody hell. Can you do it for me?”

  “Do you have the data?”

  “I can have someone send you a link, authorizing you to download it.”

  “Write this down.” Bob rolled off an e-mail address. “I’ll head into the station and wait. If I get a hit, I’ll send you the information. If I don’t, can I call you at this number?”

  “Yep, you can reach me on this number. We’ll send it right away. And, Bob, you’re a pal. Thank you.”

  “It ain’t been the same without you, Alex.”

  “Jordan still an arsehole?”

  “Yep, an A-one dickhead. I’ll get back to you either way soon. It’s lovely to hear from you, Alex.”

  “Bye, Bob.”

  Alex rushed to the kitchen. “He can do it. We need to send him a link to the data.” She handed Reefer the note she’d taken. “He’s headed into the office and will either e-mail me the information if he gets a hit or call me if he doesn’t.”

  Crimshaw pulled out the chair next to his. “Then let’s get back to these yearbooks.”

  ~

  Samael landed at JFK International Airport, grabbed his carry-on, and walked toward the entrance. He’d concluded his business in Spain early, and was eager to get on with his plans for MacIntyre and his lovely Foxy. She hated it when he called her that. Maybe he would start calling her Alexandra, like the tall dark-haired man staying at the house with her. He seemed harmless enough—a friend of the old man’s—but Samael didn’t like the idea of any man around Foxy. At least until he was finished with her.

  He stepped into the crisp night air just as his driver halted the car at the curb. Samael slid into the backseat of the limo, poured a glass of champagne, and sipped it slowly. A replacement for Sims would be necessary. As a businessman, he simply couldn’t ignore the sex trade industry. There was simply too much money to be made and plenty of runaways on the street to ply the trade.

  His thoughts turned to Candy, and he smiled softly. The way she walked said a lot about her self-confidence. Like Val, when he’d first met her. His brows knitted together, and his hand clenched around the glass. Val had served him well, and she’d been a pleasant playmate for his brother, but she’d become careless. He couldn’t tolerate employees who made mistakes, not even Rico. It was still early, hours before he would be able to unwind and sleep. What he needed was a pleasant interlude. He dialed Rico’s number.

  “Hello.”

  “Tell your friend Candy to dress for dinner. I’ll be by to pick her up.”

  Samael ended the call without giving him time to answer. Rico was loyal and a loving brother; he would do what he was told.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “I think I found Jane Doe Two.” Alex turned the picture around so Crimshaw could see it. “Her hair has been dyed. That’s why I missed her the first time.”

  Crimshaw studied the yearbook picture then the ME photo. “And she’s lost some weight. Reefer, jot down Vicki Perkins and send the ME an e-mail.”

  “How about Jane Doe Three?” Reefer asked. “Any luck there?”

  Alex closed the yearbook and shook her head. “We got lucky finding one and two.”

  “I agree,” Tamara said. “Some of these kids run away from other states. Unless the parents come forward, they’re in the system for some petty crime, or someone happens to recognize them, we’re screwed.”

  Reefer slapped a hand on the table. “Bloody hell, your boy got a hit, Alex. Picture and info coming across now.”

  Crimshaw, Alex, Reefer, and Tamara gathered around the computer screen. “He’s a big son of a bitch, and ugly, too,” Crimshaw said.

  “Recognize him, Alex?” Reefer asked.

  “It’s not the Escape Artist, but…” Alex peered closely at the screen. She would never forget the eyes that had stared at her as Scarlet screamed. “But his eyes are similar. He could be a relative.”

  “Hot damn, we’re gonna get this bastard.” Crimshaw threw an arm around Alex’s shoulders and hugged her.

  Reefer reached for the printer cables. “I’ll get some pictures printed then print out the data sheet. One of you want to call the chief and Derek?”

  Alex placed the calls while the information was printing. Reefer passed her the first copy. “Rico Salido, aka Rico Bendas, aka Rico Kaur. Arrested for killing a man in a bar for spilling beer on him.” She
flipped the page, her hands beginning to tremble. “One million dollars’ bail was posted by his brother, Samael Kaur. The bail was forfeited when Rico fled the country.”

  “Wish Blake and Nobby would get here with that food, and for once, not because I’m hungry.” Crimshaw moved a chair behind Alex. “Sit down, honey, before you fall down.”

  “I’ll see what information I can find on the brother as soon as these finish printing. We need to get this picture into the hands of every law enforcement agency out there.” Reefer reloaded the paper tray.

  Tamara placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, rose, went to the cabinet, and removed a bowl. “Chocolate cake sounds great for dessert, don’t you think?”

  Crimshaw followed her, took the bowl from her hands, and turned her to face him. “You don’t cook, remember?”

  Alex swallowed hard, her shoulders beginning to shake. Crimshaw pulled her into his arms as sobs shook her body. “Let it go, kid. You’ve been holding this in too damn long.”

  ~

  Rico stuck his head inside the bedroom. “He’s here.”

  Val fluffed Candy’s hair. “Remember what I said: anything he wants, you give him. He carries a scalpel in his jacket pocket, and he likes to use it.”

  Candy glanced in the mirror at the beautiful young woman staring back at her. “You worry too much, Val. I’ve got this.”

  Rico was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, and Candy took his arm and walked down the steps. She felt like a princess going to her first ball, and her prince was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. He looked nothing at all like Rico, and in fact, he looked more like a Spaniard than a Brit. His eyes traveled from the tips of her shoes to the top of her head, then to her face. “You look lovely tonight, Miss Candy. Rico is a lucky man.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kaur. I agree on both counts.”

  Rico squeezed her arm and glared at his brother. “You promised.”

  Samael took her arm and turned toward the door. “And I always keep my promises, Rico.”

  Samael held open the door for her, and Candy slid into the backseat of the limo, thankful she’d ridden in one at least twice so far. She still felt like a gushing teenager when Samael’s fingers brushed her breast as he fastened her seatbelt. “Where would you like to eat?”