A retort came to mind, but I wasn’t up for it. Plus, it was Stan. He was harmless.
“You going to let me see the body?”
“I knew you were going to ask me that.”
“Then everything is okay?”
“Hold on. Just give me a minute to clear the scene of a few folks.”
“Thank you. I’ll be quiet as a mouse right over here.”
“A couple of things you should know. This wasn’t like the other two murders, Eileen and Joanna. Not completely.”
I met his gaze straight on.
“We see more than one pool of blood. The ME believes at least one of those pools is not from the victim.”
“He fought back,” I said, imagining what kind of person it would take to overpower a man of Jake’s chiseled stature.
“He did more than fight back. He shot back. We found a gun discharged at his side. He didn’t appear to be wounded by a gunshot, so we’re guessing that’s where the other person’s blood came from. Also, Jake suffered other injuries. We can see bruising on his chest and back, and a large contusion on the crown of his head. We found a tire iron nearby.”
“So you’re saying we have actual evidence? We can try to find a match from the tire iron to a car—”
“More than that. That guy over there, a man named Robert Frazier, believes he might have seen the killer.”
I grabbed Stan’s forearm.
“I know,” he said, “at Jake’s expense, this could be our break. The killer got sloppy, and we might have him.”
I tightened my grip on Stan’s arm.
He gritted his teeth. “Nails,” he said, prying my fingers from his arm.
“Sorry.” A long exhale.
“Before we get too excited, there’s a lot of work to get done, including—”
“What’s the description?”
I could see his Adam’s apple pop out as he glanced in Moreno’s direction.
“Stan, this could be the same person who kidnapped and tortured me. I need to know, to try to see if the description helps me recall anything else about him.”
“Okay,” he said, pulling out his notepad and flipping three pages. “Don’t have an exact height because when Robert saw the suspect, he was leaning to one side, against a pillar. But he says he’s easily over six feet tall. He wore a cap and gray clothes, like a work uniform.”
I could practically feel the data points churning in my mind. “Anything else?”
“Caucasian, stocky build, large hands. He only got a partial glimpse of his face. He said it wasn’t a pretty sight. Pockmarks everywhere.”
“He might have had an acne problem when he was young.”
“I was about to say that.”
“What else?” I asked, my mind trying to compare this suspect with my kidnapper.
“That’s really about it.” He glanced down at his notes. “Wait.” He flipped a page. “Said he didn’t think the guy was in the best health. He actually offered to help him out, even get him some water, but the man was rather adamant that he didn’t want any help.”
“Not in good health,” I repeated in a whisper, as my eyes drifted to somewhere off in the distance.
“Does this do anything for you? Any connections you can make with the guy who took you?” Stan asked.
“The size sounds about right. I never saw his face. But I did hear him sniffle, as if he had a cold.”
Stan jotted down some notes.
“Did Robert actually see this suspect near Jake, or what?”
“Walked past him, the suspect, one level down, near the elevators. Didn’t see Jake.”
Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “So why does he think this man killed Jake?”
“He’s pretty sure he saw him in a car that was screeching out of here. That’s when he found the blood, and then Jake’s body.”
More evidence. “What’s the make and model?”
Stan arched an eyebrow. “An older model Subaru. A rust-gray color, as if the real paint had been stripped. Not sure of exact make.”
“Is this Robert guy going to get with your sketch artist? And start looking through a catalog of cars to get the specific model and year of the car?”
“We’re on it, Nancy Drew.” He turned and looked at Robert, who was being escorted by an officer to a squad car. He pointed a thumb in their direction, then looked at me. “It’s happening right now. They’re taking him to the station, and he’ll do exactly as you suggested. And then we’ll interview him again. In addition—”
I snapped my fingers. “Cameras,” I said, spinning around, scanning the concrete ceiling. “There must be cameras in a ritzy place like this. Maybe there’s an actual picture of this guy.”
“I’ve got a detective inside right now talking to the head of security.” He swung his head around looking at the ceiling. “Who knows where they have cameras in this place? The people who live here have money, that’s pretty obvious.”
Both of our eyes zeroed in on the same car: a shiny black Bugati.
“And they like to flaunt it.”
Stan pocketed his notepad. “I don’t want to jinx us, but I’m hoping a camera picked up at least one clear picture. Maybe more. We’ll make better headway off the cameras than Robert’s description.”
We moved off to the side, allowing a black-and-white to drive past us. I could see the witness, Robert, inside. An odd sensation washed over me. For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t alone in this. There was tangible evidence, a witness even. The investigation was finally gaining traction. Was it possible that this monster might be caught? How would my life change? It was difficult to envision what it would feel like. Euphoria? Or just plain relief?
My eyes landed on a technician huddled near blood, and any excitement I felt vanished. Jake had been murdered. Another life taken…and for what reason? While any justification wouldn’t be good enough, guilt hung around my neck like a tight noose. If Jake had just picked another woman, anyone but me, then he’d still be alive.
Stan had turned around, talking to three of his colleagues. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Can I see him now?”
“Give me another minute.”
It was actually thirty minutes. Stan approached me with a wary look. “The ME’s office is getting ready to bag him and take him away. If you really want to do this, I can let you have a quick peek.”
I swallowed just once. “I think I need to.”
He warned me not to get near the evidence they had tagged, and then he led the way over toward the white van; I was three steps behind.
“Why does she get to see Jake and not me?” A high-pitched voice split the air
I turned to see the woman, Jake’s client, stabbing a finger in my direction while trying to move around a female officer.
“Ma’am, perhaps you need to go inside,” the officer said, shifting her body to the right.
“This is bullshit.” Her volume grew with every word, and all I could do was just stand there and listen. She continued, “I’ve known Jake for over a year. How long has he known this tramp…a night?”
Stan looked her way, then stepped back and put a hand on my arm to guide me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the female officer speaking quietly to the woman, who finally started to calm down and back away, her hands to her face.
The woman had every right to ask that question. But she didn’t know my connection to this case.
Just before we reached the van, Stan stopped me. “I almost forgot to mention this. Besides the different types of injuries and the gun, there’s something else apparently different about this murder.”
“Yes?”
“In our initial inspection of the body, we saw no evidence of any letters or symbol.”
“No carving?” I was shocked.
“Detective Radowski?” Moreno called from the other side of the van.
“Hold on. Don’t move.” He walked away, and I did as he said. A moment later, he came back around.
“
They found a scalpel under the van.”
I just stared at him, unblinking.
“It’s crazy how much evidence we’ve picked up from this one crime scene.”
“Yeah, it’s like Christmas around here,” Moreno said, stepping by us, a shifty smirk on his face.
I just shook my head.
“Ignore him,” Stan said.
So I did. “Can you guys lift a print off the scalpel?”
“That’s the first order of business, yes. I’m not hopeful, though. The handle isn’t smooth, so I’m not sure we’ll get one. Won’t hurt to try.”
“Maybe you can figure out the model and try to find where it might have been purchased.”
He held up a hand. “You’re going to make me look bad with all of your instructions. Don’t worry. We’ll add that to our list. That might take a lot of man hours, but we can start the process and see where it takes us.” He ushered me forward a few steps. “You ready?”
I took in a breath and nodded. He cleared out of the way, giving me space to move around the van. Like a bride walking down an aisle, I put one foot forward and then brought the other one up next to it. I was moving at a snail’s pace, feeling like I was dragging my body through quicksand.
At the back corner of the van, I paused, gradually leaning my head forward.
An arm, his fingers curled, but as rigid as stone. And then the blood. So much blood. The scent attacked my nose. I stopped moving and took one step back. “I can’t. I’ve seen enough.”
Stan guided me away from the gruesome scene, back to where I was standing before. My eyes were still on the van, voices all around me, but the copper smell of blood clung to my nostrils as if Jake’s dead body were draped over my face.
I turned away, closing my eyes for a moment.
“You okay?” Stan asked.
“Fine,” I said automatically, although I was anything but. A few images of me and Jake from last night flashed through my mind. His fingers digging into my back. And now, it felt like those same strong fingers were clawing at my insides. Why had I thought I needed to see his lifeless body? Was I trying to punish myself for allowing Jake to be murdered?
I heard a groan, then realized it was me, forcing out a loud breath. I blinked and looked around. Stan was talking to Moreno. Others were doing their jobs. No one had noticed. I worked on my breathing to calm my nerves. Eventually, Stan came back over to me. “Any news?” I asked.
He tried to chuckle, but it didn’t work. “The team is moving as fast as we can. You never stop thinking like a detective, do you?”
“Just want to find this bastard before he kills again.”
“I get it.” He leaned in closer so no one would hear us. “You and I need to talk. I know you have your ECHO mission going, but you’ve got this natural ability to figure shit out. To ask the right questions. I think you need to give the police academy another thought. Promise me?”
Stan didn’t get it. I was happy to be on my own, happy to be free of a world laced with regulations on top of more regulations. But now wasn’t the time for an in-depth analysis about my career. “I’ll think about it.”
He walked me to the entrance ramp of the garage, the rain still falling, but at least it was a vertical downpour. “Are you and Cristina making headway on finding that girl’s parents?”
“Slow right now. We’re doing everything we can, calling every hospital, police station, and hotel in cities where we think they might be. But it feels like we could spend ten thousand hours and still not find them.”
He scratched his whiskers. “I wish I could help, but the process isn’t magic. Takes time and a few breaks, if you have the right contacts.”
“We have none of the above.”
He kept his gaze on the blustery weather a few feet in front of us. “Maybe they don’t want to be found.”
“I get that impression.”
“Had this case once where a woman stole money from the small business she worked for and basically disappeared. We couldn’t pick up any trail…no credit card usage, no taxes were paid, nothing. Everyone suspected foul play, but we couldn’t find evidence of that either. It was like she never existed.”
“What happened?”
“Got lucky. The wife of a detective went on a girls’ trip with some friends to a spa in Arizona. They got to know a masseuse, took some pictures with her. When the wife got home, she shared her pictures with her husband. Even though the woman had changed her appearance, the picture of the masseuse was close enough for the detective to throw up a red flag. We investigated further and found out she was the missing woman.”
“So you’re saying I need to expand the search to all spas in the country?” I joked.
“Maybe. Anyway, one of the reasons she didn’t show up on our radar was because she used her maiden name.”
Stan said he’d be in touch as he gathered more information from the witness, garage videos, and other evidence. I made a run for my car, using the blanket to protect me from a second soaking. Once I was safely inside, I pulled out my phone and called Beatrice at the retirement home to find out Mona’s maiden name. I braced myself for a long conversation.
26
Lifting her eyes from the tiny phone screen as she sat in the ECHO booth at Smoothies and Stuff, Cristina spotted Anika outside, standing under the store’s red awning. She was looking out into the rain-drenched street as she puffed on a cigarette.
Cackles from the direction of the counter, and Cristina turned to see two women walking toward the door with their drinks and sacks of food, giggling like middle-school girls. She rolled her eyes and glanced at her phone to make note of her progress in the search for Mona and Dexter Hamrick in Washington, DC. Her eyes burned from staring at the screen for umpteen hours a day.
Lots of work, but no results. That was the message she intended to relay to Anika. It sucked big time, but she knew that working for an investigation business meant having the balls to tell clients the honest truth, even if the news wasn’t what they wanted to hear.
She rubbed her tired eyes. Even with tedious monotony staring her in the face, she wasn’t about to give up. Not when Anika seemed so ready to reconcile with her parents, to heal the wounds of her past.
And Cristina knew Anika’s wound had to be a mile deep. A dead brother. Her parents had placed every ounce of guilt on Anika’s petite shoulders. To her it probably felt like two tons of lead.
When Anika had described the scene at her house near the time her brother had died, it struck a chord with Cristina. It had the same vibe as her home. Her former home. It wasn’t just a temporary lack of parental responsibility. It was utter, fucking chaos night after night. And when the sun peeked through the windows the next morning, every dirty deed was conveniently forgotten. It was disturbingly easy to imagine a younger sibling being harmed in the middle of such craziness, either accidentally or on purpose by one of the parents’ so-called friends—or even by the parents themselves.
Cristina knew all too well about pain and suffering at the hands of a parental friend. She bit into the side of her cheek until she tasted blood. Anything to keep the swell of emotion at bay.
A growling rumble of thunder brought her attention back to the here-and-now. Looking through the windows, she saw Anika take a final drag of her cancer stick and flick it into the pouring rain. She put a hand on the front door handle just as horns honked from the street. She whipped her body around while reaching for her backpack. Did she think she was being attacked? Cristina studied her face. Anika’s eyes were narrow, her entire face etched with fear. She held her position for an extra tick. She didn’t relax until someone opened the door behind her. She moved out of the way, letting her backpack drop into her hand as she held her gaze on the car that had long since passed. Then she opened the door and waved.
Cristina kept it casual. “What’s up?”
“Hey there.” Anika dropped her backpack on the table and slipped her body into the booth, opposite Cristina. “Some cr
azy-ass drivers don’t know how to deal with this storm, that’s what’s up.”
“I hear you. Gotta watch yourself even outside a smoothie shop.” She chuckled to see if Anika might make light of her own spastic response.
She kept a straight face, quickly moving on. “So, what do you and Ivy have for me?”
Cristina set her phone down. “As you know, we have a large area to cover. The only real thing we have are the cities you gave us as vacation spots for your parents.”
Anika jumped in. “And that’s assuming they’re actually in control of their lives.”
“I realize that.” Christina took a quick intake of air. “I don’t want to give you excuses, but Ivy and I are both working this case pretty hard. We said we didn’t have the resources to tackle something this big, this unknown, but I want you to know we haven’t given up. We’re committed to finishing this through.”
“Cool…I guess.” She looked away.
“You want a drink? I’ve got a few extra bucks.”
“I’m not really into this healthy shit,” she said, bringing her gaze back to Cristina. “How much progress have you guys made?”
“Well, I’ve contacted every hospital and police department within a ten-mile radius of DC. On top of that, I’ve now reached out to seventy-eight percent of the hotels in the DC area. It’s a hell of a long list.”
“And Ivy?”
“She’s tackling South Padre Island. I don’t know how far she’s gotten.”
“I thought she’d be here. Am I not an important client?” she asked. Her half-grin suggested she was teasing, although her tone of voice said otherwise.
“We wouldn’t have taken this case if she didn’t think your cause was important. This is everything to her, believe me.” Cristina had fudged the truth a bit, but she knew Ivy would be more present if she didn’t have to deal with the bloody trail of a psychotic serial killer every other day.
“I know you guys are working hard, but is there anything we can do to speed this up?” Anika curled a strand of hair around her ear.
“I know you want to see your parents. I know you want to make sure they’re okay, haven’t been harmed. Maybe you can help us?”
The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 1-3: Redemption Thriller Series 7-9 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set) Page 40