The 13th Victim: Andi Carter Mysteries Book 1

by Linda S. Prather

  Shamus parked in front of a two-story ranch and cut the engine before pointing to the sign near the partially constructed building. “Marconi Construction. Wasn’t the guy who was killed in the alley named Marconi?”

  “Gary Marconi.” Andi stepped outside the car and took several photographs. “Run a Google search and check the site on Summit.”

  “Aye.” Shamus pulled out his phone. “Office building. Construction was completed last week by Marconi Construction.”

  Andi caught movement in the house behind them as a curtain fluttered closed, and she hopped back into the car. “I’ve got enough here. Let’s go check that one out.”

  Shamus pulled away from the curb just as the front door opened and an old man shook a fist at him. “Not a very friendly neighborhood.”

  “You’re driving a fifteen-year-old car in need of a paint job.” Andi sniggered. “Probably thought we were casing the joint.”

  They finished the trip to Summit in silence, and Andi again snapped several shots, making sure to include the Marconi sign. “Sinclair is going to faint when he sees my next article.”

  “We’re going to wait until they check for bodies, right?”

  “Since she contacted me, I don’t think I really have to. Of course, if there aren’t any bodies there, then she’s not being truthful with us and Palano’s right. She’s dangerous.”

  “So where to now?”

  “It’s almost noon. We need to find Jerry and get the ball rolling. He’ll need a search warrant for the premises, and if we don’t catch the judge before he leaves his office, we won’t be able to get one until Monday.”

  “O’Reilly’s?”

  Would he go to O’Reilly’s for lunch knowing I might be there? They hadn’t exactly ended the night on good terms. Jerry was a good cop, and regardless of how he felt about her, he would do his job. “We’ll start there.”

  Blue lights flashed behind them, and Shamus glanced in the rearview mirror. He reached into his pocket and passed her a memory card. “Take the card out of the camera and replace it with this one.”

  “What if they look at it?” Andi exchanged the cards and placed the camera in its bag, as Shamus pulled to the side of the road and parked. The cruiser pulled up behind them.

  “Let’s hope they don’.” Shamus opened his door and held up his wallet.

  The officer approached with one hand on his pistol. “Turn around, and put your hands on top of the car.”

  Shamus complied, and Andi climbed out. She recognized the officer, and an icy chill crept down her spine. “Did we do something wrong, Officer Grange?”

  He patted Shamus down, whipped him around, and took his wallet. “We got a report of suspicious activity on Sycamore by someone driving a car just like this one.”

  Andi wished Grange would remove his sunglasses. She always felt better when she could see the eyes. They said a lot about what a person was feeling and thinking. “We were just taking some pictures for an article. When did that become a crime?”

  Grange handed the wallet to Shamus. “Give me the camera.”

  “I most certainly will not.” Andi no longer had to feign anger, as her hands clutched the top of the car.

  His lips lifted in a sneer. “You can give it to me, or I can take it from you.”

  Shamus reached inside, retrieved the bag, and handed it to Grange. “It’s just a camera, lass. We can get another one.”

  “You just bought it, and unless he has a warrant he doesn’t have the right to take it.” Andi watched as Grange removed the memory card then slammed the camera on the ground and stomped on it. He took a lighter from his pocket, lit it, and held the card over the flame. When it was half melted, he dropped it beside the camera fragments. “I’ll be watching you two.”

  Shamus waited until Grange turned off his lights and pulled around him before starting the car. “Isn’t he the guy in the photo from the motel?”

  Still too angry to speak, Andi nodded.

  “You think that’s what he’s mad about?”

  Andi watched the taillights disappear around a corner. “No, I think it’s something a lot bigger than that. Let’s go find Palano.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Grange pulled out his cell phone. He should have broken that bitch’s neck instead of the camera. “Where the hell are you, Sammons?”

  “Checking up on the witness. What’s up?”

  “I just caught that nosy reporter and her sidekick taking photos of the house on Sycamore.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. I took the camera away from them and destroyed the memory card, but she must know something.”

  “Head to the station, and see what Palano is up to. I’ve got the knife, and we’ll set it up for tonight. Boss said to leave the reporter to him.”

  “Yeah, and the boss said not to kill the girls right away. Look where that got us.”

  Sammons was silent, and Grange tossed his cell phone on the passenger seat, turned on his lights, and whipped the car around, heading toward the station. He would thoroughly enjoy killing that nosy reporter, but he wasn’t no cop killer. He had enough cash stored away for a fresh start in another country. He glanced at the dashboard and picked up speed. He’d check on Palano, leave a message for Sammons, and head home. His bags were already packed, and by the time Sammons or the boss knew he was gone, he’d be somewhere over the water, enjoying a nice cool drink.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jerry was seated at the end of the bar when Andi walked in, and for just a moment she felt a stirring of sympathy. The circles under his eyes matched her own. He ran away when you needed him the most. Don’t forget that. Her therapist had drilled those words into her brain at every session, and she remembered them every time her heart was breaking and the bottle called. Jerry chose that moment to glance up, and he caught her watching him. She motioned toward the back, and he nodded.

  Andi pushed her way through the double doors and took a seat at the kitchen table. Jerry followed her in and pulled out the chair opposite her. “Patrick told me you were cleaning up the townhouse, but I went by there.”

  “And I called the station, but they told me you weren’t in. If we’re going to work together, I need your cell phone number.”

  Shamus came through the double doors, took one look at the two of them, and turned around. “I think I’ll go order some lunch.” The doors swung shut behind him.

  “We need to talk about last night, Andi.” Jerry wrote his cell number on a business card and passed it to her.

  “No, Jerry, we don’t.” Andi stored the card in her purse and passed the envelope across the table. “I heard from the girl today. For what it’s worth, I believe her.”

  Jerry quickly read the note. “Where did you get this?”

  “You know better than to ask me that. My sources are confidential.”

  “Not in a murder case.” His eyes bore into her, a small vein ticking in his neck.

  “Where I got it doesn’t matter.” She tapped the note. “What’s important is that she’s given you the name of two young girls who were murdered by Barnsworth and Marconi. And their burial locations.”

  Jerry ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Have you considered that maybe she killed them, Andi?”

  “Not for one minute. Let’s get a search warrant, call in a GPR unit and find out if she’s telling the truth.”

  “You’ll have to come with me and talk to the judge.”

  “All right, but my source still stays confidential.”

  Shamus came back through the double doors carrying a plate. “I brought you a sandwich. Do you want a beer?”

  “No thanks, Irish. We’re about to leave.”

  “Well, you should eat. You haven’t had a bite all day.”

  “I’ll take it with me.” Andi rolled the sandwich up in a napkin.

  “Did you tell him about that oaf, Grange?”

  “No, but I guess I’ll have to now, won’t I?”


  “What about Grange?” Jerry picked up the note and shoved it in his pocket.

  “We stopped by Sycamore to take some pictures. He pulled us over and destroyed our camera.” Andi glared at Shamus. “And he roughed up the kid here.”

  “Do you want to file a report?”

  Andi shook her head. “Let’s just go get the warrant. He’s probably still pissed because I ran that picture of him manhandling me in the paper.”

  Shamus raised an eyebrow. “But I thought you said—”

  “Irish, did anybody ever tell you that you talk too much?” Andi walked around him and through the double doors, not waiting to see if Jerry followed. She continued outside and waited by the car while Jerry cleared his actions with the captain. He sprinted toward her, a smile relaxing his features. “We’re all set. The captain is rounding up a GPR unit, and once we get the warrant signed, we’ll get started.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jasmine applied her nighttime makeup carefully, brushed out her hair, and pulled on the black tights she’d chosen for the evening. She wondered what David—or, for that matter, her fellow coworkers—would think if he could see her now. Slipping on her red mini, she plumped up her breasts and strapped on the three-inch heels. Hitting the streets wasn’t all that much different than the covert work she’d done in Afghanistan. The threat was always there, lurking in the shadows.

  Satisfied she looked the part, she opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a picture of her husband and stepdaughter. Mollie was there somewhere, and she had to find her before she was totally sucked under by drugs and prostitution. She owed David that much.

  Her doorbell rang, and she quickly replaced the photo and closed the bedroom door on her way out. “Coming.”

  She glanced through the peephole and sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with Stuart Gambini. Pasting a smile on her face, she opened the door. “Stuart. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Can I come in?”

  Jasmine stepped aside. “Of course. Please remove your shoes.”

  She had to stifle a laugh as he muttered something but kicked off his shoes. “You got anything to drink?”

  “Water or coffee.”

  “Never mind then.” He crossed the room and slouched in the oversized armchair. “You’ve been talking to Andi Carter.”

  “Are you spying on me, Stuart? We had a deal.”

  “Sit down, Jasmine.”

  She took a seat across from him, studying the worry lines on his forehead. Gambini was still a good-looking man at sixty, and he kept his body in shape. A light touch of grey peppered through his thick brown hair, which was accented by a deep golden tan. Most of the girls, hoping beyond hope to hook the big fish, were flattered when he paid them extra attention. She’d blackmailed him with information she’d gained from the agency into allowing her to pretend to be one of his girls, a pretense that was wearing thin as the weeks passed and her dates became more aggressive. “Yes, I talked to Andi.”

  He pulled a copy of the Daily Drudge from his jacket and pointed to the headline. “She’s talking to the girl. We need to find that girl, Jasmine.”

  Jasmine took the paper and scanned the article, her hands suddenly clammy. I thought Andi was smarter than that. “If you’re right, she’s opened herself up to a world of trouble.” She handed the paper to him. “They’ll be looking for her too.”

  Stuart sat up straight. “I want you to get a message to her. Tell her to back off and let me handle this. And tell her to have the girl get in touch with me.”

  “She won’t do it, Stuart.”

  He rose, shoved his feet into his loafers, and reached for the door. “You tell her if she doesn’t, the girl is gonna wind up dead. I’m not pulling her ass out of the fire this time.”

  Jasmine picked up her purse and followed him outside. She knew a lot more about Andi’s story than she’d let on, and she also knew there was one other operative in West Hollywood, although she’d heard he’d left the CIA. Luck had been on her side, and the two of them had never actually met. She’d have to steer clear of Palano until she either found Mollie or evidence that she’d moved on.

  Standing at the entrance to the apartment building, she watched Stuart walk quickly up the sidewalk. A thousand spiders crawled down her spine, their tiny feet leaving an icy trail. She moved into the shadows as a tall, lithe blonde passed her and followed Stuart from a short distance. What is the Cobra doing here, and why is she following Stuart Gambini?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Grange parked his cruiser a block from the house and walked the rest of the way. He’d already closed his checking account, so all he had to do was toss the bags in the car, retrieve his funds from the bedroom safe, and he’d be on his way in less than half an hour. Sammons wasn’t expecting him at the warehouse until nine and wouldn’t start worrying until nine thirty. He’d have an hour lead, and if he hurried, most of that would be in the air.

  He whistled as he jogged up the steps and inserted his key. He’d researched countries until he’d finally found one that suited his funds and all the things he enjoyed doing. In six hours, he’d be planning a trip through the jungle to view the Mayan ruins. He’d always wanted to visit Belize someday, anyway, but the thought of living there was even better. For once he’d be the rich American, not the guy waiting on him.

  Closing the door behind him, he unhooked his gun belt and hung it on the rack. A huge smile raised his lips as he unbuttoned his shirt. From that point on, he’d be wearing silk.

  Grange took the stairs two at a time, whistling a snappy rendition of “Take This Job and Shove It.” Now that he’d made up his mind he couldn’t wait to get out of here. He swung open the bedroom door, his eyes widening at the pretty blonde, who smiled at him from the edge of his bed right before pain racked his body and he fell, a shivering, jerking mass of flesh.

  She came to stand over him. “We had a feeling you were going to be a problem.”

  He tried to speak, but only drooled pitifully as she knelt beside him and placed the Taser on the floor. “Fifty thousand volts, so don’t try to talk, darling. It will all be over in just a few minutes.” She pulled a roll of duct tape from the bag tossed over her shoulder, tore off a strip, and slapped it over his mouth. Then she slid the bag from her shoulder and placed it within easy reach—and within Grange’s sight. His already huge eyes widened even more when she pulled out the knife.

  “Knives are such a lovely weapon, don’t you think?” She laughed as he tried to shake his head. “The only smart words I’ve heard come out of the boss’s mouth was the plan to blame our missing girl for Palano’s murder. But then a cop is a cop, and she’ll still be labeled a cop killer.”

  Whipping him onto his stomach, she shoved the knife in just above his belt, jerked it out and stuck it in three more times before rolling him over. “Consider yourself lucky. The death the boss had planned for you would have been more fun for me, but time is of the essence, and you’re just not that important.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Cherese inserted the knife just below his left ear and dragged it across his throat, careful to make sure none of the blood spilled onto her. It wasn’t a satisfactory kill, but time was against her. She wiped the knife on his pants and placed it in the bag, then unhooked the Taser prongs and placed the unit in the bag. Rising, she flung the bag over her shoulder and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She dialed a number she knew well. “You were right. He was going to run.” She listened intently. “All taken care of. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Whistling the same tune Grange had whistled, she skipped down the stairs and made her way to the street. She stopped on the sidewalk and breathed in the fresh air. It had taken her six years to build a position to finally exact her revenge. “I’m coming after you, Gambini, and then I’m going to show Andi Carter what real pain is.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Andi stood in a corner of the basement of the house on Sycamore, watching as the GPR technician rolled what looked like
a modified lawn mower back and forth across the room. His eyes were locked on the monitor in front of him, and she had the feeling she could dance around the room stark naked, and he wouldn’t notice.

  “We’ve got something here.”

  Jerry crossed the room and studied the screen. “Is it a body?”

  The technician nodded. “That would be my guess, and it hasn’t been buried too long. The radar picks up the water content of a body that hasn’t decomposed yet.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of chalk. “Make better time if you outline it while I keep moving. I’ll stop the wheels just short of the feedback.”

  Jerry knelt beside the machine and drew a chalk mark behind the wheels. “So how do you locate a body if it has decomposed?”

  “The body shrinks, leaving air pockets that are picked up by the radar.” The technician stopped, and Jerry drew a line behind the wheels.

  “Just keep moving, and find the beginning and end positions. We’ll have to get a team in here to dig up the concrete.”

  The technician continued back and forth over a five-foot section, and Jerry drew a line across the top, sides, and bottom before standing up. He handed the chalk to the technician. “Finish the room, just to make sure there aren’t any others.”

  Andi pushed away from the wall as Jerry walked toward her. She knew what was coming, and she didn’t really care. She had her story. She had no desire to watch some poor girl’s body dug up from the concrete.

  “It’s a crime scene now, Andi. You’ll have to leave.”

  “What about the building on Summit?”

  “We’ll do that one as soon as I get excavation started on this one.”

  Andi pulled out her phone and called Shamus. “Pick me up on Sycamore.” She turned to Jerry, who stood with his shoulders slumped. “He was waiting just up the street, so he’ll be here in a minute.”

  Jerry nodded, and Andi recognized the look he got when something was eating at him, and he didn’t have the clues to put it all together. “Something about this whole mess doesn’t make sense.”