Becca startled, spinning on her heel to face him. “Nothing yet.” She stepped around him.
Randy touched her arm. “I think we need to talk.”
“Oh, do you now? When did you decide this?” Her eyes blazed with anger.
He flinched. “What the hell are you so pissed off about?”
“It’s okay for you to shut down, avoid me, give me the silent treatment, but it’s not okay for me?”
“Becca, you don’t understand.” Randy reached for her hand, struggling with the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
She waved his hand away. “Save it. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a killer out there—a sick bastard who killed my sister.”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten. Give me a chance to explain.”
“Becca.” Rick called from the doorway. “Can you look at something for me?”
With her gaze trained on him, she walked away. “I’d be happy to.”
He kicked at the dirt road and watched her disappear through the doorway. Wow! I didn’t see that coming. He raked his fingers through his hair. Somehow he’d make her understand, but it would have to wait. They were almost done with the interviews and so far it hadn’t uncovered anything that might lead them to The Florist.
“Is everything okay?” Jacob pulled up beside him.
“Oh, yah.” Heat warmed his cheeks. “I guess my mind is someplace else.”
Jacob looked to the empty doorway. “I can see that.”
Randy quickly changed the subject. “We’re almost done with your boys. Is it alright if we take a look in their bunkhouse next?”
“Sure. That’s not a problem.”
“I meant to ask after we left here the last time, but did you happen to see or hear that bike again?”
“Nope, I even asked around a bit with no luck.”
Randy patted his back. “Thanks for all of your help. We’ll try to wrap this up as soon as possible.”
He clamped a gloved hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. It seemed almost criminal to be in such a good mood. Get it together. This could be your biggest challenge yet. He smirked, patting his pocket for the umpteenth time. Thank God for my secret weapon. A tremor of anticipation brought actual goose bumps to his skin as he went over a mental checklist.
After a quick look up the road, he made his move and reached up to give the light bulb a turn. The doorbell pierced the still of night. He knew it wasn’t loud enough to alert a neighbour, but he still held his breath. He firmed his hold on the package in his hands. A cellophane-wrapped flower simply wouldn’t cut it with this guy.
Only a few seconds passed before he was rewarded by a string of curse words and the light switch flickering on and off several times. The door opened with the chain intact.
“Whatever you’re selling, I ain’t interested.”
“I have a delivery for a Mr. Kevin Baird. I’ll need a signature, sir.”
“It’s kind of late for a delivery, don’t you think?” Kevin grumbled, closing the door to unhook the chain.
A bear of a man stood in the doorway with one hand remaining on the door. His dishevelled appearance gave him a cave man air. In the same instant Kevin took the package from him, he pulled out his gun and pressed it against the guy’s temple.
“Step back into the house nice and slow or I’ll blow your fucking head off your shoulders right here.”
“What the f...? Are you fucking nuts?”
“Step back,” He snarled “Now!”
“Whoa, easy does it, I’m moving.”
The door barely closed behind them before Kevin threw the box at him, momentarily knocking him off balance. When he looked up, his adversary smacked a baseball bat against his open palm.
Amused, he chuckled. “Nice move, big guy. I’ll give you to the count of three to put that toy down. You don’t seriously believe you have a hope in Hell of using that on me, do you?”
“I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but you better pray I don’t get my hands on you, because I’ll rip your fucking head off if I do.”
He smirked. “One...two...three....”
The click of his gun filled the space between them, followed closely by the thud of the bat hitting the floor. Each step he took toward his victim, Kevin Baird took one back until his calves hit the sofa. With lightning speed, he took the secret weapon from his pocket and plunged the syringe into Kevin’s upper thigh. The sudden move knocked the guy backwards on the couch like a tree being felled.
“Ahh...what the hell?”
His laughter bounced off the walls. “Just a little neuromuscular blocking drug, but don’t worry, you won’t miss out. You’ll see and feel every little thing that is about to happen.” He put his face close to his. “You just won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.”
Kevin’s eyes grew bright. “You’re The Flor....” His facial muscles froze in mid-sentence.
“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” He took the big man’s hand in his and pumped it twice. “Yes, I am The Florist. Nice to meet you.”
He took out rope and duct tape from his pack and held them up. “Not that you’ll be giving me a hard time, will you?” He pinched his victim’s cheek hard and then slapped his face, moving his head from side to side. “Good boy, I didn’t think so.”
The journal in his hands brought him comfort. “How about I read a little before we get this party started?”
Kevin seems to enjoy the fear he instills in me by going over every detail of his job as bouncer and how he bashes skulls. I can see the rage in his eyes, which is almost lethal. I fear for the day he turns his anger on me.
The only drawback to drugging him was not being able to see his reaction when he put two and two together and figured out the reason he was there. Oh well, I’ll just have to be happy he hears every word I say. He put his lips to the big man’s ear and whispered her name. “There, now you know.”
By the time they stepped out of the last hot house, the sun had begun its descent behind the buildings. A frustratingly long day turned up nothing. The men were all sweaty and tired and undoubtedly just as disappointed as Becca was.
“Thank you for all of your hard work. Let’s call it a night.” Randy rubbed his neck.
Becca walked up the road with Rick and several officers. “I would have bet money we’d find something to lead us to him here.”
The officer blew out a long breath which lifted his blond bangs. “He’s bound to slip up.”
“I wonder how many more lives he’ll take before that happens?”
Her question didn’t warrant a response. She just said aloud what was on the mind of ever man involved today. Thankfully they left before Randy had the opportunity to face off with her again. She definitely wasn’t in the mood for that.
They drove toward the city in silence.
“Before you take the boys back to the shop drop me off at home first.” She suppressed a yawn.
“No way. I don’t think the chief will like that idea too much.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a cop. I think I can take care of myself until you come back. It’ll give me a chance to grab a quick shower.”
“Okay, I don’t like it, but I’ll be back in ten or fifteen minutes tops.”
Becca climbed down from the truck and waved to the crew in the back. “Thanks. See you in a few.”
She felt for her gun before trudging up the driveway. I feel like we took ten giant steps backwards. Before going inside she unlocked the garage door and flicked on the light to find her baby shining in all her chrome glory. She nodded decidedly and turned off the light and went into the house.
Each room came to life in a flood of lights as she worked her way through her place. “Shit!” Becca pulled out her gun and cocked it.
On her pillow laid another perfect purple rose, but no note. He didn’t need one. Becca knew exactly who left it on her bed. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. The bastard was in my house. She hunkered down with her gun ra
ised, both hands holding it steady as she retraced her steps back to the kitchen. With her back up against the wall, she took a couple of deep, steadying breaths and closed her eyes.
Footsteps on the back landing set her heart racing. She slid along the wall and took aim. The click of the door prompted her to jump out. “I’ve got a gun. Put your hands up where I can see them.”
“Whoa there, Becca, it’s me, Rick.”
Her hand fluttered to her chest. “Holy crap, you scared the shit out of me.” She blinked back the threat of tears.
“What’s with the gun?”
“Our killer left me another gift. The son-of-a-bitch was in my house.”
Rick’s stature grew rigid. “We better call it in.”
Becca opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. She’d already set herself up for a good scolding. “I’m so sorry, Rick. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
He shrugged. “I can take it. You’re okay, that’s all that really matters.” He winked and keyed in the number.
Why do I always resist protocol? First the bar and now this? She gritted her teeth. Boy am I in for a blast.
Chapter Fourteen
“What were you thinking, Becca?” Randy paced her kitchen floor.
She hated being the reason for his anger, but she never asked for him to come. He just happened to be with Chief Thomson when he’d gotten the call.
A couple of girls from the lab were dusting for prints, despite everyone knowing they’d come up empty. They found no sign of forced entry, and that bothered her the most. Does he have a key? Maybe he’s a jack of all trades and knows how to pick a lock without leaving a scratch.
Regardless, Randy ranting and raving like this wasn’t helping matters. In fact, just the opposite—he was pissing her off.
“Do you know how bad this could’ve ended if that sick fuck was still here, waiting for you to walk into your bedroom?”
The genuine concern in his eyes confused her. You’re the epitome of contradictions.
“Scolding me like a two year old isn’t going to find this guy any faster.” Becca stood toe to toe with him. “So, if you’re almost done, can we please figure out what to do next?”
Randy took her hand in his. “Becca....”
Her cell phone buzzed, and she took a step back, removing her hand from his. “Hello?”
“Becca, he struck again.”
The chief’s words chilled the heated exchange between her and Randy. She dropped back to sit on the chair. “The Florist?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m sending an officer to pick you and Randy up. Have Rick stay with the lab techs until they’re done.”
Becca looked at her phone in disbelief as she set it on the table. No words needed to be exchanged.
Randy punched the countertop. “Dammit!”
In a matter of minutes, Jerry arrived. Randy sat up front and she was left in the back again. This time she welcomed the reprieve the darkness afforded her. Seeing another one of the victims wasn’t on the top of bucket list. Every crime scene opened the wound from Susan’s death. Thank God I didn’t see her. The pictures were bad enough.
She looked up to flashing lights and the SUV now parked in the midst of all the commotion. Every house on the street was lit up like a Christmas tree. Not long ago they’d all been tucked safely in their beds while their neighbour’s life ended in the cruelest of ways.
Chief Thomson stood on the front lawn, his massive arms folded across his broad chest. “Well, this time he added a couple twists.”
They walked across the lawn toward the house. “For the first time, he left behind the box and it appears he drugged the guy.”
“Any idea what kind of drug?” asked Jerry. He stepped up and held the front door open for them.
Chief shrugged. “I’m guessing some kind of nerve-blocking substance.”
The guy on the couch was enormous, even bigger than Big Ben. The tattoos on his muscular arms told of visits to the state pen. The added twist of using a blocker made perfect sense. No way would The Florist be able to subdue him on his own.
The coroner joined them, clipboard in hand. “He’s been dead less than an hour. It looks like he was injected with a neuromuscular-blocking drug, but I can’t be certain until I run some tests. I’ll bet my paycheck Mr. Baird spent his final hour watching and feeling his mouth being sewn shut.” He half-turned to the corpse. “If you look closely you’ll see this time there is twice the number of stitches woven tightly together. Our Florist took his time with this one.”
“I think the sicko is starting to enjoy his work far too much.” Chief rubbed his stubbly jaw.
Becca looked at the light purple corsage on the victim’s wrist. “What kind of flowers are they?”
“Asters.” Jerry crouched next to the discarded box. “Why did he leave the box behind this time?”
Randy traced the delicate petals with a gloved finger. “What’s with the change to a box in the first place?”
“I’m sure it has to do with the kind of guy Kevin is, I mean was. I don’t think he would’ve opened the door to a guy holding a flower in his hands.”
“Jerry, go clear a path to the coroner’s wagon.”
The officer nodded and went straight outside.
“Who called it in?” Randy left the body and now stood beside Becca.
“An anonymous call from a disposable phone,” replied Chief Thomson.
Becca surveyed the room. There really wasn’t much for them to do. The forensic team would clear the house once the corpse had been removed. It took four guys to lift Kevin onto a gurney. A dark stain on his jeans revealed how he’d peed his pants.
She shuddered. What a way to go.
Randy laid her jacket over her shoulders and ushered her from the house. “Here, you look cold.”
She moved to shrug the jacket off only to be stopped by his hand on her shoulder.
“Take the jacket, Becca. We need to talk.”
She stepped forward, and he blocked her path. “We’re going to talk now. Your choice—here or back at your place.”
Becca sighed. “If I have this talk with you, will you please leave me alone?”
“If you feel the same way after we talk, yes, I’ll leave you alone.”
“We can talk at my place.”
Randy put a finger under her chin and looked deep into her eyes.
“Thank you.”
It was a bold move on his part, but he couldn’t resist—just like he couldn’t resist fucking with Detective Talbot’s mind a little. He quickly hid a smile behind his hand. He blended right in with the TV crews and officers littering the front lawn. Even if they noticed him they wouldn’t question why he was there.
A shiver ran up his spine, and he briefly closed his eyes to savor the moment. Mmm. It excited him to be this close to them undetected. Those dumb asses don’t have a frickin’ clue.
He stifled the urge to laugh as he savored the memory of the detective stepping out of the shower, each of her tattoos emblazoned in his memory.
I can’t let her get in the way. I’ve come too far to let a nosy detective ruin everything.
She’s definitely trouble.
An unnecessary distraction.
A distraction that needs to be eliminated.
Chapter Fifteen
Becca hadn’t been on the back of a bike in at least ten years. Randy conveniently left out the part of riding back to her place. She’d never admit to him how good the breeze felt on her face. One of the advantages of being the passenger was the freedom to enjoy the ride with no distractions.
It didn’t take long before she gave into the governing impulse to stretch out her arms and close her eyes. She didn’t care if he saw or not. It had nothing to do with him and everything to do with letting the wind work its magic and carry all of her troubles in the breeze, if only for a little while.
All too soon Randy geared down, dragging her back to reality as he turned into her driveway. Feelin
g vulnerable, she climbed off and gave him his helmet the second his feet hit the ground
“Can you open the garage door? It’s probably best if my ride isn’t visible from the road.”
Her brow creased. “I think it will be okay there. You won’t be staying very long.”
She imagined his eyes boring holes in her back on the way up to unlock the door.
Randy nudged her aside. “Let me take a look first.” He planted his feet firmly, not budging one inch no matter how hard she tried to push him out of the way.
“For your information, I’m quite capable of opening my door.”
Randy took hold of her arms and stared directly into her eyes. “I know you are. Just humor me this one time.”
Becca stepped back. “Knock yourself out!”
“You stay right here.”
Who died and voted you Cop of the Year? Becca followed him into the house and proceeded to put on some coffee. Where does he get off bossing me around in my own home?
“Wow, you’re such a good listener.” Randy stepped through the doorway, holstering his gun.
Becca spun around and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Do not talk to me like I’m a two year old. If this is how things are going to go, you can leave right now.”
He raised his hands in defense. “Whoa, chill out. I didn’t mean to talk down to you. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
“I’ve been a cop for almost twenty years. I think I can take care of myself.” She glared at him.
Randy made a T with his hands. “Time out...okay? Can we have a talk without all of this anger and bullshit?”
She leaned back against the counter, resisting the urge to throw herself at him and let him kiss it all better. Defiantly, she folded her arms across her chest. “It’s your dime. Talk, I’m listening.”
Her partner blew out a rush of air and sat at the table. “Come sit with me.” He pulled out the chair next to him.
She huffed and stomped to the opposite side of the table and sat. “I’m all ears.”
Randy chuckled and looked sideways at her. “You know, you can be a real bitch when you want to be.”
Killer Scents Page 7