As we watched, a door of the lower level opened, and a man and woman walked out, one after the other. The man walked to a car, got in, backed out, and left the motel’s parking lot. The girl went to the two seated men, handed them something, and continued toward the front of the motel and street. Her style of dress suggested she was a prostitute.
“Looks like they’re bringing their Johns to the motel and handing off the cut to the guys sitting there on their way back to the street,” Tom said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Come on, let’s go shake our motel pimps down. We don’t really know what kind of a reaction we’re going to get here, so just be ready,” I said.
“Got it,” Tom said.
I looked over at Beth, her head directly to the left of my shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” she said.
“All right. Let’s meander on over there,” I said.
Tom backed out of the parking spot, took us around the last parked car, and turned right, pointing the nose of the car directly at them. We approached. By a hundred feet away, both men had eyes locked on us. The one on the right, in jeans, grabbed the chair’s armrest, appearing ready to run. I unclipped my seatbelt. Tom stopped twenty feet from them and threw the car into park. The head of the guy on the left darted left to right. The man in the white shirt, jeans, and red hat, who appeared ready to make a break for it, did.
Beth threw the back door of the car open and put a foot down outside. “FBI! Don’t run!” she yelled.
He glanced at her quickly as he made for the side of the building.
“I got him,” I said and threw the door open. The man was thirty yards from me, running in a wide-footed fashion with one hand on the waistline of his jeans, trying to keep his pants from falling. I pulled my service weapon and gave chase. The distance between him and me closed with each of my strides. His red hat flew from his head as he turned left at the corner of the building, where the faded blacktop parking lot turned to grass. After making the corner, I was on him in two steps. The floodlights mounted to the top of the motel lit the area. I could see the man was unarmed, and I reached out and grabbed him by the back of his white T-shirt. He spun back toward me when he felt me catch him, and his shirt ripped from my grasp. He took his hand from holding up his pants, seemingly trying to surrender, but fell over backward as his pants fell to his ankles. He hit the ground backside first, staring back at me. He held up his hands, which were empty.
I put my gun on him. “You done?” I asked.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said.
“Then why are you running, genius?”
“I was scared.”
“Sure,” I said. “I have a feeling you know the drill. Knees with your hands interlocked behind your head.”
He said nothing and assumed the position. I linked him up and pulled him to his feet.
“I’m going to pull your pants up and check your pockets. You have anything in there that I should know about?” I asked.
“A little weed. That’s it.”
“Pipe, knife, needles, anything like that?” I asked.
“No, nothing,” he said.
I yanked the guy’s pants back up around his waist and removed everything from his pockets.
“Out to the front of the motel,” I said. “Let’s go.”
I walked him back to the front to sit him back in the plastic chair next to his friend, who was no longer in the chair but against the motel wall, getting linked up by Beth.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“So how far away yet?” the girl asked.
Richard looked over at her. The hooker had told him her name was Crystal. She sat on a blanket covering the bloodstained front seat of his pickup truck. She wore a tiny pair of jean shorts, the pockets hanging lower than where the shorts were cut, a tight yellow top with an exposed black bra, and knee-high cowboy boots. The girl had dyed blond hair. Her face looked young—Richard imagined she couldn’t have been much older than twenty.
“Just a couple minutes or so, and we’ll be there,” Richard said.
“And you’re going to drop me back off in the morning?” she asked. She twirled her hair in her finger and stared over at Richard. He imagined she was trying to appear seductive.
“Yeah, I’ll drop you somewhere,” Richard said. His mouth turned into a smirk.
“You heard me when I said two hundred an hour, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“That means drive time too,” Crystal said.
Richard fished his wallet from his pocket, pulled out two hundred-dollar bills, and handed them to her. Crystal tucked them into her bra.
“I’m probably going to have to eat something,” she said. “I mean, if I’m going to be gone all night.”
“Yeah, I’m planning on eating in a little bit,” Richard said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Um, okay,” she said. “So what is your house like?”
Richard had never actually brought a woman into his house while she was still alive. Getting the girl’s reaction would be entertaining, he figured.
“Um, the place is okay, I guess. Bachelor pad, for the most part.”
“Are there going to be other people there? I charge more for parties,” she said.
Richard thought for a moment—Mark said he might stop by to check in on him. He pushed the thought away, figuring his brother had just said that to make sure he stayed put.
“It should just be you and me.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’ve never had a guy want me all night before.”
Richard looked over at her, and she smiled.
“We’re going to have a real good time,” he said.
Richard turned left, drove a mile up the dark street, and turned left again into his gravel driveway. The long driveway led him over a bit of a hill before the new house came into view. The old house, further back, was pitch black and not visible. Richard didn’t see a sheriff’s SUV or his brother’s personal car—Mark wasn’t there.
“This is the place, I take it?” Crystal asked.
“Yup.” Richard said.
The two got out of the pickup, and Richard led her to the home’s backdoor. Richard pulled open the aluminum screen door and put the key in the door to unlock the main one. He pushed it open.
“Oh God, what is that smell?” Crystal asked. She pulled her head back and covered her nose with her hand before she even stepped foot into the house.
“Just come on in,” he said.
The girl kept her hand over her nose and mouth and followed Richard along the path between the garbage into the kitchen.
“What the hell?” Crystal yelled. She tried to turn and run for the door.
Richard grabbed her and pulled her in front of him—her back to his chest. He held her with an arm under her chin, across her throat. Crystal kicked and flailed, her fingertips pawing off the refrigerator.
“That’s going to be you,” Richard said. He made her look at the half-chopped-up leg, the foot removed at the ankle, and the coagulated blood covering the kitchen counter. More blood drips had run from the counter’s edge and created a puddle on the floor.
Crystal tried screaming, scratching, and doing everything in her power to get away, but she couldn’t break Richard’s hold around her neck. He lifted her by her neck and took the hooker to the living room.
“Would you like to meet my mother?” Richard pointed at his mother’s twenty-year-old rotted corpse, positioned on the couch.
He laughed as the girl tried to scream and fight with everything she had. Richard dragged her back to the kitchen, reached to his hunting knife on his hip, flicked the button that secured the handle to the sheath, and pulled the knife out. He reached it around the front of her and poked the tip into her chest. She let out a short scream that turned into the sound of a gag when Richard applied pressure, letting the blade slide into her inch by inch. Crystal jerked violently. He stopped applying pressure when he felt the tip of the hunting knif
e come out of her back and poke into his sternum. Then Richard slid the blade back out. Her body jerked again—she didn’t make a sound. Richard put the hunting knife into her again—and again. Blood ran down the front of her and pooled at her feet. Richard could feel the front of his shirt go warm from the blood coming from her back. He continued the slow process for another two minutes, bringing the knife in and out of her ten or more times. Crystal was dead after the second.
Richard moved his left arm from her neck down to her chest to keep her standing. He pulled the knife across her throat. Blood cascaded over Richard’s left arm. He let her drop to the floor and reached down to wipe the knife off on the small section of her jean shorts that wasn’t red with blood. He stuck the knife back in the sheath and wiped the blood off his arm with a kitchen towel. Richard then wadded the towel up, tossed it into the kitchen sink, and walked out to the living room to watch a bit of television, planning to deal with the girl later.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Beth sat the man back on his plastic chair and went to retrieve the file of photos from the car.
“He try running?” I asked.
Tom nodded. “He got about five feet.”
“Search him?” I asked.
“Yeah, his things are on the table there.” Tom nodded toward it.
I went over and set down everything I’d taken from the other man—a wallet, a phone, and a small bag of marijuana. I looked at what Beth and Tom had pulled off of the other guy—a pile of multicolored condoms, a wad of money that on quick glance looked like about a thousand bucks, a pack of cigarettes, and some more marijuana. I pulled the IDs from both wallets and walked back to Tom. Beth came back from the car with the file.
I held the two IDs up. “Alex Rivera and Curt Daly. What are you gentlemen running for, exactly?” I asked.
Neither of the two responded.
I looked at the guy I’d chased down. “Couldn’t be for the little bit of weed I found on you, was it? You know you could probably run faster if your pants weren’t hanging off of your ass,” I said.
He shook his head but said nothing.
“Mr. Rivera. You want to tell me what you were running for?” I asked.
He didn’t respond.
“Looks like we have a couple of mutes,” Beth said.
“Yeah, it does. I assume you ran because the pair of you are wanted for something,” I said.
The one named Curt, whom I’d chased, rocked his head back. “It’s just missing a court date, man. My mom was sick. I couldn’t make it.”
“Your mother was sick? From what?” I asked.
“Um, the flu,” he said.
“And she’s better now?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s great. Court date for what?” I asked.
“Suspended license.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
He nodded. “That’s it.”
“Seems kind of minor for you to be running. We’re going to get to that in a bit, though. Now that we’ve established that Curt here can talk, what about you, Mr. Rivera?” I asked. “Reason for running?”
“Parking tickets,” he said.
“So, suspended license and parking tickets. You two are traffic offenders, huh?” Beth asked.
“Mr. Rivera, what’s with all the rubbers and money?” I asked.
“I like to practice safe sex,” he said.
“And the wad of money?” I asked.
“Um, it was payday today.”
“Right,” I said. “All of you two’s responses so far sound completely legit,” I said as sarcastically as possible. “All right you two, what do you have for priors?”
They both shook their heads.
“Nothing,” Alex said.
“Yeah, me either,” Curt said.
“So neither of you two have ever been in trouble before?” Beth asked. “You know, aside from the traffic offenses.” She looked at me.
I shrugged. “I believe them.” More sarcasm hung from my words.
“Man, I can’t go back to jail. I can’t get arrested,” Curt mumbled.
“Thought you just said you didn’t have any priors? You two aren’t that bright, are you?” Beth asked.
Neither responded.
“Okay, listen up, dumb and dumber. We’re not here to arrest you in the first place,” I said. “We just want some information on a couple of local girls. If the suspended-license story and the parking-ticket story both check out, we won’t run you in for it.”
Neither said anything.
I looked at Beth. “You have those photos?”
“Yeah.” She handed them over.
“I’m going to show you guys a couple of photos. I want to know every last thing you can tell me about them.”
The guy on the left, Alex, nodded.
I held the photo of Candice Schwarz in front of him. “We’ve been told that she worked the local area,” I said.
“Candy,” Alex said. “Yeah, she works around these parts.”
“One of yours?” Tom asked.
“Um,” Alex said.
“We don’t know what you mean by that,” Curt said quickly, making sure that his associate didn’t speak further.
“Cut the shit, or we’ll just take the both of you in for pimping and pandering,” Tom said. “We saw the girl leave the room and come out to pay you guys your cut.”
Neither man responded.
“I’ll ask again,” Tom said. “One of yours?”
Curt shook his head. “Not like that. I sell a little weed to the girls. Sometimes, I’ll front them a bit. After they are done doing whatever they’re doing, they pay me the money that’s owed.”
His copping to dealing a little bit of weed carried far fewer legal ramifications than being involved in prostitution. I imagined he was street educated enough to know that fact.
“Okay, let’s just try this a different way.” I said. “What do you know about her?”
“She’s always with another girl that goes by the name Peaches,” Alex said.
“Yeah, the girls try to get men that like a little two for one, if you know what I’m saying. You normally see them around here every night. Haven’t seen them tonight, though,” Curt said.
I looked through the photos and found the one of Rachael Mendez, the other victim that had been found that morning. “Is this Peaches?” I held the photo up in front of the two men.
Curt nodded. “What do you want them for?”
I waved away his question. “Do you know if the girls had regular Johns?”
“No clue,” he said.
“What about where these girls were staying?” Beth asked.
“Somewhere around here, I’d guess,” Alex said.
We spent the next twenty minutes playing the same game with each girl’s photo that we showed them. Both men admitted to having “seen them around,” but that was all the information they could provide. They either didn’t know the girls personally or were full of it. I couldn’t quite figure out which one it was. There was a chance we could get more if we put the guys under an interrogation lamp for a few hours, but I wasn’t sure how much good it would do. Unless someone told us specifically what vehicle each girl had last gotten into and could provide us a plate number, I wasn’t sure how much good random general information was going to do to help our investigation.
I motioned Tom a few feet away from the two men. He walked over.
“Why don’t you go and run these two,” I said. “Let’s see what they are actually wanted for.”
“Don’t think we’re going to get anything from them?” he asked.
“No. At least nothing that’s going to help us catch whoever is doing this.”
“Okay, I’ll run the two quick and see what we get. You’re not buying their warrants for traffic offenses?”
“Not even a little bit. Let’s just see what is in the system on them, and then we’ll go from there.”
“Sure,” Tom said. “It should just tak
e a second.” He walked toward his car.
I went back to Beth’s side.
“We free to go?” Curt asked.
“We’re just checking on a few things right now,” I said.
He was quiet for a moment.
“On what?” Alex asked. “What are you checking on?”
“A few things,” I said.
The pair talked quietly to each other. As I watched them, they both looked a bit more nervous than they ought to be. The one named Alex was leaning forward in his chair, his head once again darting left and right.
“Looking for something?” I asked.
He sat up straight and stopped moving around.
I spoke over my shoulder at Beth. “Keep your eyes peeled on these two. Alex here is looking a little fidgety.”
She nodded.
Tom started back toward us. I walked to him so he could tell me what he’d gotten without the guys hearing our conversation.
“I called them in to the local PD.”
“What are they wanted for?” I asked.
“Curt Daly is wanted on failing to appear in court on assault charges. Also has a history of the same. Did two years plus for aggravated assault a few years back—it was against a female. Alex Rivera has an arrest warrant for promoting prostitution.”
“Doesn’t sound like traffic offenses to me. What was the ETA on local law enforcement for picking these two up?”
“Couple minutes,” Tom said.
“All right. Let’s go inform these gentlemen that they will have accommodations provided for them this evening.”
Tom smirked.
We walked back to Beth, who was keeping an eye on the pair.
I slapped my hands together. “Good news, fellas. Both of your stories checked out.”
The pair looked at each other and then back at me.
“I am, of course, lying to you,” I said. “Just like you lied to us about what you were wanted for. But the good news is that you’ll be done dealing with us in a second here when the Nashville PD arrives to take you into custody.”
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