Pru frowned. “Sounds like the way Max Tripp’s P.I. firm operates.” She turned to Tim. “Were you able to find out anything about Tripp Investigations?”
Tim logged off and closed his laptop. “First of all, the agency has two separate divisions that act independently of one another. Tripp Investigations handles routine cases like nanny surveillance, cheating spouses, insurance fraud, hidden assets, things like that. The other division is internally referred to as Matchmakers Underground, and their specialty is ‘designing coincidences.’ They deal exclusively with wealthy male clients who are willing to pay the big bucks for an opportunity to meet the woman of their dreams.”
Pru already knew all that. “What about Danny Costello?”
Tim nodded. “He’s an ex-cop, just like you said. He was fired a few years back for using unnecessary force on a suspect. The charges were eventually dropped, but the department felt he was too much of a liability to keep him around so they found another reason to get rid of him. The guy has a real temper, from what I hear.”
“And Tripp hired him anyway?”
“Like I said, the charges were dropped, and a man’s innocent until proven guilty. But get this.” Tim’s eyes glittered with excitement. “His old partner was none other than Janet Stryker. My contact at HPD told me that Costello was a real hotshot back then, always getting citations, his name in the news and so forth. Stryker got herself partnered with him, and they made quite a team for a while. Then things got a little too hot and steamy between them, and Stryker’s husband walked out on her. He was a cop, too, and, according to my source, he raised a nasty stink about the affair. Somehow, though, Stryker managed to come out of the mess looking like a victim. She made noises about sexual harassment, and it was the kiss of death for Costello’s career. A few months later, she was promoted to detective and never looked back.”
The story supported Pru’s initial assessment of Janet Stryker. The woman was manipulative, ambitious and cold-blooded. It also made sense why she’d been reluctant to follow up on a lead involving Danny Costello. An ex-partner who was also an ex-lover might know things that could derail a promising career.
“Funny thing about Costello,” Tim said. “I tried to dig up a photograph, but pictures of the guy seem to be in short supply. I haven’t been able to find an address for him, either.”
“Then we need to talk to Janet Stryker,” Pru said.
“Absolutely not.” Cahill gave her a scowling reprimand as he walked around the desk and sat down. His frigid eyes berated first Pru, then Tim. “We don’t deal with gossip in this office. We work with facts. I suggest you both remember that.”
“Uh, sorry,” Tim muttered. “The information seemed relevant to me.”
“It is relevant,” Pru insisted, wondering if she was about to torpedo her own career. “Janet Stryker’s past relationship with Danny Costello could explain why she hasn’t gone after his connection to Clare McDonald.”
“That’s pure speculation,” Cahill accused.
Pru drew a breath. “With all due respect, sir, I disagree. Tim’s right. The information is relevant, and we need to aggressively pursue this angle.”
“With all due respect, Agent Dunlop,” Cahill said in a tight, humorless voice, “I’m telling you to back off.”
“But, sir—”
He gave her a look that warned she was treading on thin ice. Pru didn’t understand his attitude. It almost seemed as if he was trying to protect Janet Stryker, but why would he? He’d given Pru the impression that he’d only met the woman once or twice.
Besides, Cahill wasn’t the type to let his personal feelings interfere with an investigation. Something else was going on here.
Tim stood and gathered up his laptop. “I’ll let you know what else I find out.”
Pru rose, too, and followed Tim to the door. But at the last moment, she turned and came back over to Cahill’s desk.
He glanced up. “Yes?”
She hesitated as her heart started to respond to the way he looked at her. Those eyes…would she ever get used to their impact? “This is none of my business, but…are you okay?”
His brow furrowed. “I told you this morning, I’m fine. I suggest you let the matter drop.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…the information Tim found—”
“What about it?”
“It’s a good lead. We can’t just ignore it,” she said stubbornly. “Sir, you have a theory that Stiles is using the Internet to scout out his victims. But I have a different theory. Just hear me out for a minute.” She rushed on before he could stop her. “Think about what they do at Tripp Investigations. They follow these women. They talk to their friends, family and business associates so that they can gain the kind of insight that will allow their clients to form instant bonds with them. What if someone else is using that information, too?”
“The killer, you mean.”
“Or his surrogate. That would explain why someone like Clare McDonald could have been so vulnerable to him. He knew things about her, intimate things, and he used that information to establish a relationship with her. To make her fall in love with him.” Pru straightened. “And the way I see it, he’d have to be someone on the inside.” Which brought them back to Danny Costello. And Janet Stryker.
“Not necessarily,” Cahill said. “Anyone with tech nical expertise could hack into the company’s system and access their files. He could have transferred the information onto his own computer to use as he needed it.”
“So you agree with me, then,” she said almost triumphantly. “This is a lead we need to pursue. And I think we should start with Janet Stryker.”
Cahill sat back in his chair and gazed up at her, his eyes going so stark they made Pru shiver. Then slowly he rose and came around the desk to face her. “One thing you’d better get straight pretty damn fast, Agent Dunlop. This is my team, and I call the shots.”
Pru swallowed. “Yes, sir. I didn’t mean to—”
“Janet Stryker is off-limits to you,” he cut in coldly. “Is that clear?”
Crystal clear, Pru thought with a sinking heart.
Chapter Nine
Pru slid into the chair across the table from Tiffany that night and gave her a tentative smile. Considering the cold shoulder she’d received at Clare’s funeral, Pru wasn’t at all certain of her reception. But to her surprise, Tiffany returned her smile.
Pru tried not to appear surprised by her reaction. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”
“No problem. I’m glad to see you,” Tiffany said.
She was?
Wow, Pru thought as she got her first good look at the woman. Not only had Tiffany’s attitude changed, but she looked terrific. The gaunt, strained mask that had been so prevalent at Clare’s funeral had vanished, and now she appeared more like the old Tiffany, except better. Her eyes sparkled, her skin glowed. She looked radiant.
So what was up with that? Pru wondered.
She’d asked Tiffany to meet her in the same bar where they’d had drinks on the night of Clare’s murder, hoping the familiarity of the place might jar Tiffany’s memory. It was possible Clare had let something slip that Tiffany had forgotten. Pru realized she was grasping at straws, but she figured it was worth a shot.
She’d wanted to talk to Tiffany days ago, but the poor woman had been such a mess at Clare’s funeral that Pru had been reluctant to intrude upon her grief. The service hadn’t been the time or place to question her, but with each passing day, the surrogate could be getting closer and closer to his next victim. Pru couldn’t wait any longer.
The same waiter who’d served them the first night came over to take their orders. “Hey, I remember you two. Welcome back.” He flashed Tiffany his killer smile. “Don’t tell me…apple martini, right?”
Tiffany shifted her blond hair over one shoulder, then smiled up at him. “You have a good memory.” Her gaze dropped. “Among other things.”
The waiter looked a little flustered by her flat
tery, and Pru supposed she couldn’t blame him. Tiffany hadn’t given him the time of day the last time they’d been in. Pru couldn’t help wondering again about the sudden changes in the woman.
Reluctantly, the waiter turned to Pru. “And for you—”
“A Diet Coke,” she supplied before he had time to struggle.
He looked wounded. “I was just about to say that.”
“Sorry.”
“No problem.” He grinned. “I’ll have your drinks right out. Enjoy your evening, ladies.”
As Pru watched him hurry away, her attention was caught by a man seated at the end of the bar. Their gazes locked for one split second and, with a shock, she realized he was the same man who had been checking her out that first night.
“Déjà vu,” she muttered.
“What? Oh, the waiter you mean.” Tiffany glanced over her shoulder. “I remember him, too.”
“What about that guy at the end of the bar?” Pru nodded in the man’s direction. “He just came in. Have you ever seen him before?”
Tiffany expertly canvassed the bar, but the man had swiveled so that all she could see was the back of his head. She turned to Pru with a shrug. “I don’t know. Why?”
“He was here the last time we were in.”
Tiffany glanced at him again, but he still had his back to her. “I can’t really tell. Anyway,” she said, as the waiter placed their drinks in front of them, “I was glad to hear from you, Pru. I’ve been meaning to call you.” Tiffany bit her lip. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved at Clare’s funeral. I was just so upset…”
“You don’t have to apologize. You two were always so close. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”
Tiffany blinked back sudden tears. “It is. You have no idea.”
“How are you holding up?” Pru asked sympathetically.
“Each day gets a little easier, I guess. But sometimes I still can’t believe she’s really gone. I find myself picking up the phone to call her and tell her about something that happened at work. Or about a new outfit I bought. A movie I went to see. A trip I want to take.” Tiffany sighed. “Everyone says it’ll take time.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But in the meantime, if there’s anything I can do…”
Tiffany glanced up, her eyes still bright. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course,” Pru said. “Just name it.”
“There is one thing…” Tiffany trailed off, as if reluctant to voice the favor she wanted to ask.
Pru tried to hide her wariness. “What is it?”
Tiffany ran a fingertip around the rim of her glass. “The police have released Clare’s town house. I promised her folks I’d go over there tomorrow and pack up some of her things, but…I can’t face that place alone. Is there any chance you could meet me there?” she asked hopefully.
Even though the next day was Saturday, Pru had planned to work. But she could take off a few hours, and besides, she wouldn’t mind having a look around Clare’s home.
“What time do you want to meet?”
Relief flooded Tiffany’s eyes. “Really? You’ll do it?”
“Of course. Just tell me when.”
Tiffany thought for a moment. “I have a few things I need to do first, but I should be able to get there around ten. Is that all right?”
“Ten it is.”
Tiffany let out a long breath. “Oh, God, Pru, you don’t know how grateful I am. There’s just no way I could do that alone.”
“It’s okay. I’m happy to help out.”
Tiffany glanced at her watch. “I hate to do this to you, but I really can’t stay. I…have plans.” She looked a little sheepish as her gaze darted away.
Pru still couldn’t get over the changes in Tiffany. Outwardly, she appeared to have bounced back since Clare’s funeral. She had color in her cheeks and that strange sparkle in her eyes. It made Pru wonder about the nature of her plans.
“I’ll try to make this quick,” she said as she shoved aside her drink. “I want you to tell me everything Clare said about the guy she was seeing. I don’t care how insignificant it may seem, I need to know everything you can remember.” When Tiffany started to protest, Pru said, “I know this is painful, but it’s important.”
“You didn’t think it was so important when we were here before,” Tiffany blurted.
Her bitterness caught Pru off guard. Only a moment earlier, she’d seemed so warm and friendly. Had that been an act?
Pru sat back in her chair. “I’m sorry I didn’t take your concerns more seriously.”
Tiffany’s eyes glinted with anger before she glanced away. Then taking a deep, shuddering breath, she appeared to force her emotions aside. “It’s not your fault. Deep down, I know that. Even if you had taken me seriously, it wouldn’t have done any good. The police said Clare was killed later that same night. Have you thought about that, Pru?” She leaned forward, her eyes shadowed with grief and guilt. “While we sat here having drinks, he was planning to kill her. It makes me sick when I think about it.”
“I know. But what we have to concentrate on now is stopping him before he can do it again. That’s why I need your help, Tiff. If you can think of anything she might have said about him, anything at all, it could be a big help to us.”
Tiffany smoothed back a strand of blond hair. “I told you. Clare wouldn’t tell me anything about him.”
“Did she ever call him anything…a nickname, maybe?”
Tiffany shook her head.
“Did she mention what kind of car he drove?”
“No! I don’t know anything!”
Pru sighed. “Did she ever say how they met? Could it have been over the Internet?”
Tiffany’s gaze lifted. “You mean…like an online dating service?”
“Maybe. Did she ever mention anything like that?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What about a pen pal?”
“A pen pal?” Tiffany looked startled. “I don’t know…it doesn’t sound like Clare—” She broke off, her gaze going past Pru’s shoulder.
“What?” Pru pressed. “Did you remember something?”
“I think I see someone I know,” she said in a strange voice.
Pru started to turn. “The guy that was at the bar?”
“No. That woman over there. She’s sitting at the table in the corner.” Tiffany gave a slight nod.
Pru turned to inspect the tables behind them.
“See the brunette in the red dress? I’ve seen her somewhere before.”
At that moment, Pru’s gaze landed on the woman Tiffany had spotted through the crowd. The red dress drew her attention first and then, as the woman pivoted in her chair, Pru caught her breath. It was Janet Stryker.
She looked different tonight. On the two previous occasions when Pru had met her, she’d been dressed in jeans and a snug-fitting blazer—a practical yet hip uniform for an up-and-coming detective.
Tonight, however, she’d pulled out all the stops. Even though she was seated, the cut and fabric of her dress left little to the imagination.
Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, and the subtle layers sexily framed her oval face. Pru had virtually the same cut, but most days she pulled her hair back and clipped it up, letting strands fall haphazardly from the clasp. The style was quick and practical, but not all that flattering.
Suddenly, Pru was all too aware of how she looked tonight with her hair all straggly, her makeup worn away, and her clothing—dark pin-striped trousers and a white cotton blouse—rumpled from a long day at work.
She turned back to Tiffany, whose own simple black dress was nothing short of stunning. “Her name is Janet Stryker. She’s an HPD homicide detective. You probably talked to her after Clare’s death.”
Tiffany shook her head. “No, I didn’t. The detective who interviewed me was male. All male,” she murmured, sounding more like the old Tiffany with each passing moment.
Yes, a cop would definitely appeal to Ti
ffany, at least for a while. “Well, then you probably saw Sgt. Stryker at the station when you went in to give your statement.”
She shook her head. “I gave my statement to Sgt. Reed. That’s not where I saw her.” Tiffany scowled as her gaze lingered on Janet Stryker. Then she snapped her fingers. “Wait a minute. I know where I saw her, and it didn’t have anything to do with her being a cop.”
“Where did you see her?” Pru asked anxiously.
“It was at this club that Clare and I used to go to. A place called Acceleration. It’s on Montrose, a few blocks from Clare’s town house.”
Pru’s tone sharpened. “Did you and Clare go there often?”
Tiffany shrugged. “A few times, I guess. Why?”
“Did you tell the police about this club?”
“No. I’d forgotten all about it until just now when I saw that woman. She had the same dress on that night at the club. I remember, because Clare has…had one just like it.”
Pru dug in her purse for the photographs of the other two victims. Handing them to Tiffany, she said, “Do you remember seeing either of these women at the club?”
Tiffany took the pictures and studied them for a moment. Her gaze kept going back to the first victim, Ellie Markham, then she shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s possible.”
“Take another look,” Pru urged. “This is important.”
“I may have seen them, but I can’t be sure. It’s dark and smoky inside the club and half the women who go there look like this.” Tiffany glanced up. “You don’t think that’s where the killer saw Clare, do you?”
Pru didn’t answer. “Do you remember if she talked to any strange men that night?”
Tiffany lifted a brow. “Of course, she did. That’s kind of the point of going to a place like that.”
“Anyone stick out in your mind? Someone who might have acted overly persistent?”
“Not that I recall.”
Matters of Seduction Page 11