by Gerri Hill
Damn, that had hurt. Her niece was all of twelve years old. She didn’t understand. Hell, Casey didn’t understand. So she reached out to her grandfather, hoping he could talk some sense into her brother. No. He’d agreed with him. None of them wanted Erica to turn out like Casey. They all had big plans for Erica. Doctor or lawyer, anything but a lowly cop. Anything but a lesbian cop. And so she’d faded away from the family. Even her mother, she lost touch with too. Of course, her mother had been ostracized from the family years before. A bitter divorce will do that. Her father’s death hadn’t helped ease the strain between her mother and her brother.
That was seven years ago. Her grandfather’s death and funeral had come and gone, all without Casey. Oh, she’d tried. But her brother had said a firm no, she was not wanted there. And her niece’s high school graduation had just come and gone. For that, she had made no attempt to go, to contact Erica. It had been too many years.
So she made up for her lack of a family by being a friend to everyone and surrounding herself with lots of people. And for the most part, she was happy. She dated some. Not a lot. Dating took time. But she wasn’t lonely. Not really. All she had to do was pick up the phone. Which she’d been doing less and less of lately. As much as she enjoyed being around Tori and Sam, it made her realize how superficial the relationships in her life were. What Tori and Sam had was something Casey longed to emulate. That special someone, that one person who loved you without doubt, without cause. That’s what she wanted in her life. And so she’d stopped most of the meaningless one-night stands. If she were simply craving a physical release, she could get that all by herself. The last time she’d slept with someone without worrying about tomorrow had been when Marissa Goddard had buzzed in and out of town in a week’s time. And while the sex had been good—great, in fact—it was still just a meaningless act once it was all said and done.
So for now, she was content sitting on her deck, watching the water and the twinkling of lights that surrounded the lake. For now, she had her career. And she had two really good friends in Tori and Sam. For now, that was enough.
Chapter Six
Leslie sat quietly at her desk watching Casey watch Tori. Tori was reading through Donaldson’s file. She and Casey had gone over it yesterday, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Every lead was followed up on. Interviews were documented. All possible angles were covered. And as Casey had warned her then, Tori was going to be pissed.
She flinched as Tori slammed the file closed. “Goddamn.”
Casey flicked her gaze to Leslie, then back to Tori. “Told you. It’s clean.”
“Okay. So I jumped to the wrong conclusion. No harm, no foul.”
“No, no. You owe him an apology.”
Tori’s eyes narrowed. “The hell I do.”
“You know you do. You might as well get it over with.”
“Kiss my ass, O’Connor.”
Casey laughed, glancing quickly at Leslie and winking. And she couldn’t help it. She found herself grinning back, not really knowing what was so amusing. She apparently had a lot to learn about her new team.
“Just having a little fun, Hunter.” She pointed at Leslie. “Tell Tori what you found, Les.”
Tori looked at her expectantly. Leslie pulled up the screen where she’d put her notes, her mind still reeling from Casey’s shortening of her name. She hadn’t been called Les since college. “I went back to the first murder, just to crosscheck the apartment to see if any nine-one-one calls were made from there. Not her apartment, no. But the complex, yes. Two days before the murder, a call came in reporting a Peeping Tom. So I widened the search. In the three weeks before the murder, nine Peeping Tom calls came in from a four-block radius. After the murder, none.” She paused, seeing the thoughtful expression on Tori’s face. “Then I checked our current victim. Same thing. Two calls from her complex came in for Peeping Toms. In all, seven calls in three weeks in a four-block radius. Again, none since.” She shrugged. “Of course, it’s only been three days.”
Tori nodded. “Good work, Tucker.” She turned in her chair, looking at Casey. “What do you think?”
“Our guy gets off watching them. And that’s enough for awhile. Then he wants to get closer. By now, he knows who lives alone, knows their routine.”
“But neither place had forced entry,” Tori reminded her.
“Maybe it’s someone they were familiar with. A delivery guy,” Leslie suggested. “Pizza, for example.”
“Or he could pretend to be a delivery guy,” Casey said. “What better way to get them to open up?” She knocked on an imaginary door. “Pizza,” she called. “The girl says I didn’t order a pizza. He says, I don’t know about that, but I’ve got two larges for this address. You want them or not?” Casey stands, pacing. “So, without thinking, she opens the door just to see what he has. Boom, he’s in. No forced entry.”
“Wouldn’t she scream? Surely someone would hear,” Leslie said.
“But he’s ready. She’s not expecting it. She opens the door, he grabs her, covering her mouth to prevent her from screaming.”
“At some point, if you’re not gagged, you’re going to scream,” Tori said. “And tox on the first victim was clean, so he didn’t drug her. How does he keep them from screaming?”
“Maybe there’s an accomplice. Someone holding a gun to her head. Or a knife, in this case.” Leslie felt Casey walk behind her and tensed as Casey’s arm locked around her throat. “Scream and I’ll kill you,” she said menacingly. She released her, moving away. “If you’re scared enough, if you believe him, you keep quiet.”
“And if she’s not actually being raped, she may not scream, thinking if she’s quiet he won’t hurt her,” Tori said.
Leslie tilted her head, thinking. “Or maybe he kills her right away. Maybe he ties her to the bed afterward.”
“And maybe he leaves his semen deposit afterward too.” Casey shrugged. “That’s probably more plausible. No one hears them screaming because they’re already dead.”
“Wonderful,” Tori said. “We’ve solved the mystery. Now who’s our murderer?”
Leslie turned as Casey walked behind her again, pointing to her monitor. “Pull up a map. How far apart are these two apartment complexes?”
“Oh, not far at all. The four-block radius I used overlapped.” She pointed to the map, moving her finger across the screen. “Seven blocks apart.”
“And how many apartment complexes are in this area?”
Leslie grinned. “If I were on TV, I could click a few times and have that information for you. But we’re not. Gonna take a little time.”
“There were a few complexes that I remember,” Tori said. “But there were residences there too. Not all apartments.”
“I can research it,” Leslie said. “Some of the nine-one-one calls may have come from a private residence near the apartments.”
Casey squeezed her shoulder as she moved back to her own desk. “You’re doing great. I hate those things.”
Leslie frowned. “What? Computers?”
“Call me old-fashioned.”
Leslie laughed. “My fiancé would cringe to hear you say that. He’s a geek. Computers are our friends, Leslie,” she mimicked him.
“Ah, so you’re not crazy about the damn things either.”
“They serve their purpose. I just don’t see the point of eating, sleeping and drinking with them.”
“Fiancé, huh? When’s the wedding?”
Leslie fingered her wireless mouse, glancing at Tori who appeared to be absorbed in reading through files. “We haven’t set a date yet.”
“Really? You just got engaged then?”
Leslie hated this question. “No. A year or so.” She saw the surprised look cross Casey’s face.
“So, you want to be absolutely sure before you say I do? Good plan.”
Leslie flashed a quick smile, recognizing the teasing tone of Casey’s words. She pulled up her notes again, rereading them before she started her r
esearch on the apartments in the area. She’d only been here two days, but she felt more relaxed with this group than she ever had in Fort Worth. There, it was all business, all the time. And there were very few discussions about the case without their lieutenant being present. Here, while Malone appeared to be in control, she noticed he kept to the background, allowing his detectives free rein. It was a practice she would have to get used to.
“So, you going to like her okay?” Tori asked as they walked to the deli for sandwiches.
“Tucker? Yeah, she seems nice. It would help if she wasn’t so damn gorgeous. I mean, middle-aged and portly would be better.”
“Portly?”
“Frumpy, portly. You know what I mean. She’s too pretty to be a cop. Like Sam, you know. They just don’t look like cops.”
“You mean like us?”
“Yeah. You and me, a couple of dykes, we fit the description perfectly,” she said with a laugh. “But she seems pretty sharp.”
“Yeah. I liked the way she just jumped in. She wasn’t afraid to give her opinion.”
“And she didn’t seem intimidated by you at all, Hunter. Maybe this new reputation you have is starting to get around. The mellow, nice Tori Hunter.”
Casey stumbled as Tori playfully bumped her shoulder.
“Don’t say that too loud.”
“Nothing wrong with being nice, Tori. It’s a lot less exhausting than being a bitch all the time.”
Tori laughed. “How would you know? I doubt anyone’s ever called you a bitch.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Casey held the door open, motioning Tori inside. “Age before beauty.”
They waited in line, neither needing to look at the menu boards. They were creatures of habit and always got the same thing. Casey nudged Tori with her elbow. “So, what do you think of her idea of surveillance?”
“Seems like a shot in the dark, but what else do we have?”
“Yeah. And if it holds to form, the Peeping Tom reports were all between eight and eleven. Not too long for us to cruise around.”
“The only problem, they seemed to escalate right before the murders. Three months apart. We can’t sit here and twiddle our goddamn thumbs for a couple of months.”
“If there are no leads, there are no leads, Tori.” Casey stepped up to the counter. “Turkey on wheat, no onions.” She turned back around. “And Sikes, with his charming self, has interviewed everyone in the family and most of her friends, and they all say the same thing—she had no enemies. What else is there for us to do?”
“Roast beef on rye. Spicy mustard.” Tori fished out some crumpled bills from her pockets, then looked at Casey. “Got a couple of bucks?”
“Oh, hell, Hunter, put that away. Lunch is on me.”
“Thanks. And I don’t like sitting on a case and doing nothing.”
“I know that. But we can’t invent suspects.”
“You saw the family. They want answers.”
“Of course they want answers. So do we.” Casey took her sandwich basket and tea, then found an empty table.
“We need to come earlier. It’s getting too damn crowded,” Tori complained as she was bumped from behind. “Attorneys. They think they own the place.”
Tori sat down, but Casey motioned with her head. “There’s one staring at you. You know him?”
Tori turned to look. “Great,” she murmured.
“Who is he?”
“Robert.”
“Robert who?”
“Sam’s ex.”
“Oh, my. The guy she was seeing when—”
“Well, well, if it isn’t Tori Hunter.”
Casey watched as Tori slowly turned, a bored expression on her face. “Robert.”
He looked at Casey, then back to Tori. “And Samantha made me think it was true love with you two. I guess that didn’t work out so well, huh?”
“It’s worked out great, thanks. This is Detective O’Connor, a colleague. I’ll be sure to give Sam your best,” Tori said with just a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes, do that. Tell her I’ll give her a call. She still owes me dinner.”
Tori scowled as he walked away and Casey leaned closer. “What the hell was that all about?”
“He left town. Went down to Houston I think. Apparently, he’s back.”
“Sam owes him dinner?”
“No. Sam does not owe him dinner. He’s just being Robert.”
“Defense attorney?”
Tori took a bite of her sandwich and nodded. “He’s a jerk.”
“Well, who could blame him? He’s dating a beautiful girl like Sam and she leaves him for you.” Casey laughed. “It would make anyone bitter.”
“Very funny.”
“Oh, just kidding. You know you’re cute as pie, gorgeous.” She had the pleasure of seeing her friend blush.
Chapter Seven
Leslie sat in silence as her future mother-in-law rambled on about plans for their honeymoon. So far, Michael was receptive to Cancun, St. Thomas, or a seven-day cruise to the Bahamas. She put her fork down—her dinner largely uneaten—and reached for her wine instead. She hated these occasions when Rebecca joined them for dinner. The conversation always centered on their impending wedding and, like now, the honeymoon.
“I don’t know why you won’t just set a date so we don’t have to keep speculating on the season.”
Leslie looked up. “What?”
“A date? A Christmas wedding, a spring wedding?”
Leslie glanced at Michael. “We haven’t set a date yet.”
“Yes, dear, I know. That’s my point. You’ve been engaged for nearly two years. I can’t contain my excitement any longer.”
She put her wineglass down, choosing her words carefully. “You know, I can’t just plan vacations and expect everything to fall into place. I mean, if we’re in the middle of a murder investigation, I can’t just leave for two weeks and go on a honeymoon. It just doesn’t work that way.”
“Another reason to change careers,” Rebecca said. “Michael can get you on with his company, can’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, we always have receptionist jobs open.”
Leslie stared, dumbfounded. “Receptionist?”
“Nice eight to five job,” Rebecca said with a smile, as if this would entice her.
“Rebecca, Michael, no offense, but I chose my career long before I met you. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. And I feel very lucky I was able to transfer to Homicide here in Dallas after only being with the department such a short time. So no, I won’t be changing careers to that of receptionist at your company.” She stood with a curt nod. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Leslie, I didn’t mean to upset you, dear,” Rebecca said quickly. “It’s just—”
“You haven’t upset me. But I have some work to do.”
She closed the door to their bedroom, then leaned against it, staring at the far wall. A part of her just wanted to get it over with, even if it meant a quick wedding in front of a judge. But another part of her couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was making a mistake. Was she really happy? Was this what she wanted for the rest of her life? A mother-in-law who interfered in everything? A husband who was more interested in his games than in her?
Is that what she wanted out of life?
Chapter Eight
“So, they’re ready for you to set a date, huh?” Casey drove slowly down the street, her black SUV blending in well. Like Tori, she preferred to drive her own vehicle. The fleet of cars that were at their disposal were fine in a pinch, but they were dirty and smelled of takeout food and coffee.
Leslie rolled her head against the seat, watching her. “They’ve been ready. Or at least Rebecca has. Michael hasn’t pushed too much.”
Casey stopped along the curb, their view of the grassy area behind the apartment impeded only by passing cars. “Why aren’t you ready?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. We’ve dated for years, have been engaged for almost two,
have lived together for one.” Leslie adjusted her seatbelt, pulling it away from her chest. “It was one of those situations where you don’t know why you’re dating, but you are. And before long, a year has passed and it’s become familiar, so you ignore the fact that you don’t really have anything in common and you continue dating. And after several years, it’s only natural to take the next step.”
“He’s a computer guy?”
She nodded. “He’s a gamer. The company he works for does the graphics and special effects on computer games, video games. That’s what he does. They design it, then play it, then tinker with it, then play it again.”
“So he’s like a programmer?”
“Yeah. I guess.” She hesitated. “He likes to play. Our spare bedroom is his game room. The TV is a huge monster. Not only for his video games but for sports. His buddies live in the same complex. They’re sports fanatics. They live and breathe for the next game. Michael is as addicted as the rest of them.” She laughed. “And I’m making him out to be a big ogre. He’s not really. It’s just sometimes I feel like I’m an afterthought to him. If someone offered him tickets to a game, I’m convinced he’d forget all about whatever plans we had.” She shifted in her seat. “What about you? You’ve not mentioned a single thing about your personal life.”
Casey shrugged. “Don’t really have one to mention.”
“You’re not dating anyone? In a relationship with someone?” Casey hesitated and was surprised when Leslie reached over and touched her arm briefly. “I know you’re gay. You don’t have to avoid that subject with me.”