The Pretty Ones (A Kate Reid Novel Book 6)

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The Pretty Ones (A Kate Reid Novel Book 6) Page 22

by Robin Mahle


  “And how do you know this? You must’ve gotten real chummy with him,” Sharpe said.

  “He likes to talk about himself. You’d know that if you looked at his website.” Sanchez cast his gaze between the two of them. “I know what you must think. That I had knowledge of all this and I should’ve called the cops. Well, I didn’t know anything for sure. Just that he said things and told me where I could find the…”

  “Victims?” Nick said.

  “Yes. He fed me information, but I didn’t really think he was responsible for it. I would’ve called the cops if I did.”

  “Even if that were true, which I highly doubt, you knew what was happening and did nothing about it, except make sure it hit your morning broadcast.” Sharpe paced the room. “Where is this theater? What’s the name of it?” He turned to Nick again. “We can try to get employment records from them and see if they have a last known address.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Kate followed Dwight upstairs to Sergeant Moore’s department. His team had been observing the site and finally received what they had all been waiting for.

  “Is it up right now?” Kate made her way toward Moore’s desk.

  “Jameson’s got it up.”

  “Here, take a look.” Dwight sat down at the desk and turned the screen toward her.

  Kate began to view the page that had been updated. A video began to play with an elaborate, movie-style introduction. “This must’ve taken some time to put together.”

  “He’s nothing if not a showman.”

  The video continued to pan down from high above and zoomed in toward a street.

  “Where is that? Anyone know yet?” Kate asked.

  “We’re trying to locate it as we speak,” Moore said.

  She continued to view the movie, when a voice sounded over the images.

  “In a world where art no longer exists in its purest form, but instead is watered down, and made to appeal to the masses whose only care is to be entertained at their deepest and most primal levels, comes a new era in filmmaking.”

  “Is this guy serious?” Kate asked.

  “Tonight is the night you’ve all been waiting so patiently for. This will be my most extravagant performance piece yet. One I’m sure will haunt your dreams and stay with you for all eternity. Stay tuned because at exactly midnight, you will see my final masterpiece. And for those of you who choose to continue to follow me, this will be the last word. And maybe, if you’re smart enough, you will find the clues I have left.”

  The music swelled and the screen faded to black.

  “That’s it?” Kate asked. “He didn’t say where he was going to be.”

  “No. But he’s hoping Andre will study the clues, meaning we’ll have to decipher them ourselves if we want to capture him before he finishes his masterpiece,” Dwight added.

  “We’ll have to identify any landmarks captured in this video and work to triangulate a location. And, it appeared that he used satellite imagery in his opening scene. It isn’t much, but it’ll have to be enough to help establish a position.”

  “He made specific reference to his follower,” Dwight said. “Meaning, Andre might know this location already. I can only speculate, but I’d say our killer is smart enough to have done some research on his follower. Possibly even traced his IP address.”

  “That would be difficult, considering his use of a proxy server,” Moore said.

  “Difficult, but not impossible. I’m willing to bet Andre knows something and we need to show him this video to see if he can pinpoint a location. That might be faster than our process of elimination.”

  “Let’s show him the video, then,” Kate said.

  Dwight stood up and began to follow Kate. “Moore, you coming?”

  “I’m just getting screen shots of as much of this as possible in the event he decides to pull the video. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you down there.”

  Dwight followed Kate toward the elevators as the two stepped inside. “What’s going on with the reporter? Any information that’ll help us find this guy?”

  “They’re working on him now. He knows where the killer worked, but has no idea where he lives. I still think he knows more than he’s letting on. I mean, Marc found the baseball cap he wears as a part of his disguise.”

  “Any DNA on it?”

  The elevator doors parted on the bottom floor and they stepped off.

  “He gave it back to the killer. He doesn’t have it anymore.”

  “Jeez. Does this guy realize he’s going to prison for being an accessory to murder?” Dwight continued.

  “Honestly, I don’t think he realizes what he’s done. He wanted a story and it didn’t seem to matter who got hurt in the process.” Kate entered the holding cell area.

  “You mean, killed?”

  She turned her attention to the officer. “Agents Reid and Jameson. We need to talk to Andre Knight.”

  “I’ll need approval from Detective Sharpe.” The officer picked up the phone. “Sharpe, two FBI agents want to talk to Knight. Okay, thank you.” He hung up the phone. “I’ll let you through.”

  They followed the officer back to the holding cells and spotted Andre Knight sitting on the edge of his bed while his cellmate stood opposite him, leaning against the wall.

  “Mr. Knight? We need you to take a look at something.” Dwight raised the laptop into full view.

  The officer opened the cell door and waited for Knight to step out. “Do I need to cuff you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then go with these nice federal agents and do as they say.”

  Dwight reached for Knight’s arm and pulled him alongside as they walked into a room adjacent to where Nick and Sharpe were still questioning the reporter. “Step inside, please.” Dwight followed him in and waited for Kate to close the door behind him.

  She set down the laptop and opened up the site. “Take a look at what your friend posted. We need to know where this is.” She pressed play.

  Knight watched it with mild interest and, when it was over, began, “I have no idea where this is.”

  “You sure about that? I believe he mentioned his follower would know if he looked at the clues. Why don’t you take another look?” Dwight pressed play this time.

  He watched again and a flicker of recognition seemed to spark in his eyes.

  “You know the place, don’t you, Andre?” Kate asked.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.” He stared at the screen. “I think maybe it could be…” He paused and began to shake his head. “I think it’s the open space, like a small park area, near…” He stopped. “Oh my God.”

  “What is it, Andre? Where is this place?” Kate continued.

  “It’s the park in my neighborhood.” His eyes imbued with panic as he looked at Kate. “Oh my God. He’s going to go after my wife, isn’t he? He found me. He found her.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Ben Patrick leaned against the stucco column and pulled his baseball cap low on his head. He was not in full disguise and was on a reconnaissance mission, scouting his next victim. An unusual situation, as he’d been accustomed to taking days to plot, not hours. But this time was different. He knew who he needed to ensure this was his best performance yet. His magnum opus.

  And it was his follower who gave him the idea. The man who fancied himself worthy enough to embark upon the adventure started by Patrick himself. He was certain this was the man who would ultimately need to pay for such an intrusion and demonstrate to his other followers that only Patrick could fulfill their desires. And with some work, he’d discovered much about the man’s existence. His family, his place of employment, and even where he called home. It had been easily, really. A copy of the video provided to him by his partner in crime, Sanchez, caught the footage of the white car driving away from the scene at Leimert Park. And from that vantage point, the car’s plate was easy to read. Having dabbled inside the dark web long enough, Patrick was able to discover the owner of that white
car, which had led him to this exact point in time.

  And so now, he waited for confirmation. The woman who was completely unaware of her husband’s penchant for watching young women die and then be placed on display for all to see. That alone would likely be enough to bring about pain for the intruder. His wife’s knowledge of his decadence would mean her departure.

  Perhaps it hadn’t been the watcher himself, but in combination with the news anchor, Ben knew his days were numbered and decided to take vengeance on those who would seek to turn against him. Vince Sanchez could still suffer, but Ben had to focus on completing this task first.

  He knew she worked here, thanks to a social media post, a tweet, from the follower’s account that mentioned a blood drive his wife’s clinic was running. “Donate today,” the tweet said. Funny how outside, the follower sought to have others view him as compassionate when he was entirely the opposite.

  Ben checked the time. Two p.m. She was working the early shift today and would be getting off work right about now. A simple question posed to the information desk attendant was all he needed to get that little tidbit of information. Still, it had been much more work than any of his other performances.

  The doors of the clinic opened and a woman stepped out, still wearing her scrubs, but carrying a purse and a water bottle. Ben examined her. Carmel-colored, shoulder-length hair, average build and a decent rack. Yeah, that was her.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  Dina Knight turned in the direction of the man who was speaking. “Yes?”

  “You work at this clinic?” Ben suddenly reached for his left arm.

  “I do.” She began to approach, noting that the man appeared to be in some pain. “Are you okay, sir? Are you hurt?”

  “It’s just my left arm and I’m having some trouble breathing.” He inhaled a deep breath.

  “Sir, you should go inside. I think you need help right away.” Dina touched his arm.

  Ben immediately grabbed her hand and, with his right hand, pulled out a gun and pushed it into her ribs. “Don’t scream or you’ll be on the ground, you understand?”

  Dina halted the scream that threatened to erupt and slowly nodded.

  He stood upright and pulled her close, walking her toward his car. “You can thank your husband for this, ma’am. He brought this on himself.” Ben opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

  Dina’s eyes reddened and her heart must’ve been pounding fast because Ben could see her chest quickly rise and fall. He slipped into the driver’s seat and kept his gun pointed at her. “Don’t cry. It’ll make your eyes swell up and I won’t be able to make you look pretty.”

  “How do you know my husband?” Her voice cracked with fear.

  “Oh, we hang out sometimes.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. He’s made a real mess of things and this is the only way I can think to pay him back for the trouble he’s caused me. He jeopardized all I’ve worked for and I’m afraid I can’t forgive him for that.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand? He’s been in jail for the past twenty-four hours. He couldn’t have hurt you.”

  Ben whipped his head around. “What did you say?”

  Tears streamed down her face now. “He’s in jail. He couldn’t have done anything to you.”

  Ben returned his attention to the view from his windshield. “For the past day?” He knew the post had been made only the night before. “Then they must’ve made him do it.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t understand what Andre could’ve done to you. Please, I have children.”

  He turned his sights on Dina again. “Well, this does change things. Still, it doesn’t mean I can’t continue with my work. It just means I may have to make some adjustments.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The team waited inside the detective’s office for his return. The operation had to be authorized and resources allocated. When Kate informed Sharpe of the location and that Andre Knight’s wife could be at risk, he wasted no time in getting the captain’s ear to inform him of this latest development.

  “Okay, we’re going to send Moore along with his partner to Knight’s house and get his wife and children to safety,” Sharpe began on his return. “In the meantime, I’d like you three along with myself to track down the last known address of this man.”

  “We still don’t have a name,” Kate said. “How do you want us to approach this?”

  “I don’t imagine they use many make-up artists. It’s a small theater in West Hollywood, not Broadway,” Nick said. “We get their names and addresses, rule out the ones we can and follow up on the ones we can’t. It’s the only way.”

  “That will take some time I’m not sure we have,” Dwight replied.

  “Right now, I don’t see another choice. We can hope Moore finds the wife and children and gets them to safety, but that doesn’t mean our killer won’t seek another victim to fulfill the needs of his followers.”

  “And himself.” Sharpe continued to walk toward his desk. “Agent Scarborough, would you and Agent Reid head down to the theater and get us the names? Agent Jameson and I can assist Moore until we hear back from you.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll touch base as soon as we have names.”

  Kate trailed Nick and the two exited through the rear entrance as more and more media vans and reporters showed up at the station. Word had gotten out that Vince Sanchez hadn’t been seen since leaving the station with Detective Sharpe and rumors were flying. It wasn’t going to be long before Sharpe would have to say something, but he’d wanted to wait until they had confirmation that the family was safe. Ideally, until they had the man behind the camera behind bars.

  “Sharpe said it’ll take us about half an hour to get down there. Hopefully, we’ll know by then if they’ve been able to track down the family and get them to safety.” Nick pressed the remote on the car’s entry and the two stepped inside.

  “If he gets to her first and finds out Andre’s been helping us, he might just kill her right then and there.”

  “Based on your profile of him, I’m not so sure. You said yourself that he’s a showman. An attention-grabber. He won’t want to disappoint his followers.”

  “I did say that. But at the very least, I suspect he’ll alter his plans. Maybe a change of venue?”

  “If he does that, then we’re screwed.” Nick studied her for a moment, then returned his attention to the road. “You look like you could use some sleep. You feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve gotten as much rest as you and Dwight, and probably Sharpe too, so if you all can handle it, then I certainly can.”

  “Didn’t mean any offense. I know you can handle yourself. You don’t need to wear that chip on your shoulder around me.”

  She wanted to refute him, but knew he was right. Kate often felt the need to prove herself and she wondered when that would stop. How many cases did she need to have under her belt? How many awards or commendations did she need before they took her seriously? “You think I wear a chip on my shoulder?”

  “Sometimes, yeah. But I understand. You’ve never felt like you deserved to be here, Kate. No matter how many times I’ve told you otherwise. Or ASAC Campbell or even Dwight.”

  “Is that why you’re leaving the team?”

  “What?” He shot her a glance.

  “You think I’d do better if you were gone. That maybe I’d be more independent.”

  “No. I don’t. You’re missing my point. You’ve proven your independence time and again. Do I think that this complication between us could prevent you from becoming the type of agent you want to be? Possibly. But only time will tell.”

  “After you leave,” she continued. “Only time will tell after you leave.”

  “Look, Kate, if you want to say something to me, maybe now is the time. If you’re angry with me, then just say it. Tell me you think I’m abandoning you. Because that’s what I’m doing,
right?”

  “I didn’t say that. If that’s what you think, then that’s on you.” Kate could feel the tension rising and this wasn’t the time to get into an argument. “Look, we do need to talk about what’s happening and what’s about to happen. But we aren’t going to resolve anything on the drive to Hollywood. I’m sorry I brought it up. We should focus on this investigation.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Kate sighed at his final comment. She’d started a fight and now forced him to cut it off without resolution. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be irritated with me. We need each other’s backs right now.”

  “I’ve always had your back, Kate. Regardless of how I’ve felt.” Nick turned right. “That’s the place, up ahead.”

  “I see it. Says there’s parking around back. You think anyone will be here?”

  “We’ll find out.” Nick pulled into the parking lot around the back of the small theater where a few cars were dotted around. “Looks like there’s a few people here anyway.” He parked the car and cut the engine. “Let’s go inside and have a chat.”

  They walked in through the door marked “employees and talent only.” The corridor was dark and smelled of body odor and stale cigarettes.

  “This place has seen better days, I’m sure,” Nick said. “I assume someone’s here since the door was unlocked.”

  Kate followed closely behind and noted the black painted ceiling, the dirty white walls that were covered in handprints, scuffmarks, and God knew what else. “I hope the house is nicer than back stage.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.” Nick stopped at the T-junction in the hall. “Let’s try going right.”

  They continued down the hall until they heard voices.

  “I was beginning to think the place was abandoned,” Kate said. “You hear that?”

  “I do. We’ll have to follow the sound.”

  Another several feet and they made it the stage area where a few people appeared to be building a set.

 

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