Casanova Killer

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Casanova Killer Page 6

by Tallulah Grace


  “Yes sir.” The waiter looked disappointed that he had been dismissed.

  “Who knew that oysters on the half shell could sound so sexy.” Jerry teased. “I think he has a crush.”

  Ethan ignored her comment. “I’d like to hear more about your day.”

  “Of course, I haven’t even made it to the most exciting part.” Jerry enthused, much as she imagined her character would. “You know how I’ve been worried about finding someone who could deal with my hair? Well, Kim, that’s the girl from yoga, has a friend with the same long, thick mass that I do. Hers is brown, too, by the way, so I won’t be introducing you. I know what a fondness you have for long brown hair.” She tossed hers for emphasis.

  “Makes me weak in the knees.” He quipped with a grin.

  “I know. Anyway, Sonja, that’s Kim’s friend, should be in class tomorrow, so she can tell me which salon she uses.” Jerry finished with a flourish, glee shining in her eyes and a smile that would light up Texas. To those nearby who were watching and listening, it appeared that the most important thing in the world to Jerry was to find the right hairdresser.

  “That’s wonderful, my sweet. I know you’ve been very concerned about that.” Ethan made his voice seem serious.

  “I have, I really have.” Jerry batted her eyelashes and it was all Ethan could do to keep from bursting with laughter.

  “But that’s enough about me, what did you do today?” Jerry decided to let Ethan entertain her for a while.

  “Oh, the usual. I had a few meetings and spent some time at the track. I should take you, I think you’d enjoy it.”

  “I enjoy anything and everything I do with you.” Jerry’s smile made Ethan’s heart do a flip-flop in his chest.

  “Thank you love, the feeling is mutual.” Ethan’s answering smile was equally devastating.

  Slow down, girl, Jerry told herself. It’s a game, a role. Do not fall for his charming façade. Even as she mentally chastised her runaway emotions, her heart began to melt.

  Chapter Nine

  “Good morning, Princess. Nice of you to join us.” Dylan’s grin took the sting from his sarcasm.

  “It’s not even eight, what are you doing here?” Jerry stifled a yawn and glanced over at the sofa. As Ethan was not at the table with Dylan, she fully expected to see him lounging on the makeshift bed.

  Surprisingly, the sofa bed they’d made up together last night was tucked neatly away. There was no sign of linens or Ethan in the room.

  “The coffee’s better here. Plus, I brought the paper. They caught your good side.” He winked and tossed the paper onto the table.

  “Not before coffee.” Jerry turned towards the kitchen and almost ran into Ethan, carrying two steaming mugs.

  “Good Morning.” The simple phrase spoken in his hybrid Australian/English/Italian/French accent got her senses moving better than a gallon of caffeine. He handed her a mug.

  “Morning.” Jerry tried not to blush at the direction of her thoughts, but it was like stopping the tide. “Thanks.” She accepted the mug and turned back towards the table.

  Dylan watched the exchange with a little amusement and a lot of trepidation. It looked like Jerry was smitten with Slick, and vice versa. Dammit, I thought she was smarter than that, he nearly growled aloud.

  Ever since Jerry became his partner, Dylan felt protective of her, sort of like a big brother. She’d more than proven her ability to handle the job, but he still looked out for her. At one point, about a year after his divorce, he’d felt the beginnings of attraction, but he quickly squelched it. For one thing, she was his partner. For another, he never intended to have more than a few-night’s stand with any woman ever again. Jerry deserved better than that. Just like she deserved better than Slick. Dylan knew his kind; love ‘em and leave ‘em. It was just like him to take advantage of the situation and mix a little pleasure with business. Not if I can help it, he swore to himself.

  “Did you sleep well?” Jerry asked, her gaze still on Ethan.

  “Like a babe,” he answered with a smile that made her heart trip.

  “I slept great, too. Thanks for asking.” Dylan interjected.

  “That’s nice, but you didn’t sleep on a sofa bed.” Jerry tossed at him.

  “No, but have you heard Nate snore? The man sounds like a freight train.” Dylan lied. The truth was that Nate had awakened him last night, thanks to a nightmare, not snoring. But that was Nate’s business. “Luckily, I still had earplugs from the last time you and I shared a room.” He teased.

  “Funny man.” Jerry glanced at Ethan. “I so do not snore.” She told him.

  “How would you know, you sleep like the dead.” Dylan added.

  Ethan observed the pair and felt more than ever that they were not romantically involved. Jerry’s reactions to him yesterday and last night had all but convinced him, but watching her interact with Dylan this morning reminded him more of siblings than lovers.

  “Let’s see the paper,” Jerry reached for it just as Ethan did. Their hands brushed and sent shivery tingles straight to her core. She’d be surprised to know that Ethan felt them, too.

  “Mmmm, nice. How did they get it so big? None of the other pictures are this large.” Jerry looked down at the image of her and Ethan smiling at each other as they left the restaurant. A few smaller images of them arriving lined the bottom of the frame.

  “Ask the Prince.” Dylan left to refill his cup.

  “Prince?” Jerry looked puzzled.

  “No, technically my title is Duke. It’s part of my cover.” Ethan was suddenly very interested in selecting a muffin. He had no intention of confessing that the royalty aspect of his cover was not far from the truth. “Supposedly, I’m something like 1,676th in line for the English throne. On my father’s side, he explained.

  “And someone made sure to mention that to the press.” Jerry nodded.

  “Yes. You Americans are so enamored with anything royal; we thought it would garner more publicity.” Ethan looked sheepish.

  “And so it did.” Jerry studied the image, noting how happy they both looked. Anyone would think they were a real couple.

  “Not all Americans are royal-crazy,” Dylan said as he returned. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about titles. Titles don’t mean diddly squat when it comes to character.” He leveled a warning look at Ethan.

  “Agreed.” Ethan said smoothly, ignoring the daggers Dylan aimed his way.

  “Ethan Bennett, Duke of Davenborrough, and his companion, Jerry Smythe, enjoyed a delightful dinner at Quincette, a local favorite. The Duke and Ms. Smythe are visiting San Francisco on an extended working holiday.” Jerry read. “At least they got our cover names right.”

  “It’s good coverage. If our guy reads the society section, he can’t help but be intrigued.” Dylan added.

  “Let’s hope. What’s on my agenda today? Besides yoga.” Jerry snagged a muffin and bit in.

  “Jimmy put together a list of places that all three victims frequented in the last month. Aside from your favorite yoga class, there’s a café around the corner, a juice bar two blocks over and a Pilates studio downtown that might be helpful. You can drop by the juice bar on your way to Pilates, then stop by the café on the way home.”

  “I’m taking Pilates and yoga today?” Jerry dropped her muffin. “I thought the point was to keep me alive so the unsub gets a shot. If I keep this up, I’ll be dead in a week.” She complained.

  “Suck it up, Forbes. You can do this in your sleep.” Dylan wanted to laugh at Jerry’s expression, but didn’t risk it. “Just think of how good your body will look after a few days of torture.”

  “You really are annoying,” she tossed back. “What else is going on today? I assume we’re going out again tonight?”

  “Of course. See and be seen, doncha know.” Dylan grinned in anticipation of dropping his next bomb. “Tonight, you’re going to the opera. You have tickets to La Traviata, the heart-wrenching tale of a fallen woman’s sacrifice for th
e love of her life. Or so I’m told.”

  “Oh, man,” Jerry dropped her head on her arms. “This day just keeps getting better. Why don’t you go spread sunshine somewhere else?” She peeked up at Dylan.

  Ethan and Dylan both laughed, but Ethan spoke. “I take it the opera is not your cup of tea?”

  “No,” Jerry replied instantly. “I mean I’ve never been, but I can’t imagine that it would be anything but boring.”

  “You Americans and your preconceived notions.” Ethan shook his head. “La Traviata is arguably one of the best-loved operas of all time, and you imagine it to be boring. Opera allows emotions to transcend language. Whether or not you understand the words, if you pay attention to the characters and the music you will feel the emotion.” His passionate words surprised Jerry. “I challenge you to give the stage your undivided attention tonight and then tell me that you were bored.”

  Ethan’s speech left Dylan silent and Jerry impressed. “I accept your challenge.”

  Ethan nodded and changed the subject. “Any luck on locating the Maserati?” He asked Dylan.

  “Nothing yet. We’re running down the registrations, but you’d be amazed at the number of red Maserati’s registered in California. By and large, the owners all fit the broadest part of our unsub’s profile; white male in his thirties to fifties. We need more to go on.” Dylan broke apart another muffin.

  “Maybe I’ll get lucky today with Kim’s friend, Sonja. I know it’s a longshot, but it could turn into something.” Jerry wrinkled her nose at the muffin tray. “I’m making a real breakfast. God knows I’ll work it off later today. Who wants pancakes?”

  “So Slick, what are your plans today?” Dylan asked Ethan after placing a double order of pancakes with Jerry.

  Ethan chose to ignore the jibe; it appeared that Dylan’s opinion of him hadn’t changed yet. “I have appointments at two brokerage firms this morning, both of which are used by the three previous victim’s paramours. This afternoon, I’m joining a gentlemen’s club preferred by two of the men and then I’m off to the track. See and be seen, right?”

  “Right. Nate and I will continue to interview neighbors and friends of the victims and of their paramours, jeez, who talks like that?”

  Ethan simply raised his eyebrows, not deigning to rise to the bait.

  “Anyway, that’s about all we have to go on until something else happens.”

  “You mean until another woman is murdered.” Ethan’s voice was low and slightly menacing.

  Dylan took offense. “Hey buddy, if you have any better ideas, I’d like to hear ‘em.”

  “Sorry, I know you all are doing what you can. It makes my blood boil, thinking of him getting by with these murders, right under our collective noses.”

  “I know what you mean.” For the first time, Dylan felt a kinship with Ethan. He didn’t want it to take root. Standing, he called to Jerry. “Hey Princess, you need any help in there?” He moved to join her without waiting for a reply.

  Jerry plastered a smile on her face as she walked into the yoga class. The very last thing her body needed was to be bent like a pretzel for an hour. Spotting Kim standing alone, intent on her cell phone, Jerry made her way over to her.

  “Hi Kim,” she greeted the other woman warmly. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  Kim appeared distracted as she glanced up at Jerry. “Oh, hi Jerry. It’s nice to see you, too.” She shut off her phone and placed it in her bag. “Hey, I saw your picture in the paper this morning, va va va voom!” She grinned. “If you get tired of the Duke, let me know and I’ll take him off of your hands. He’s gorgeous!”

  Jerry actually blushed. “He’s a keeper, but thanks for the offer.”

  “Anytime.” Kim began stretching.

  “Is your friend Sonja here? I really wanted to speak with her about a hair stylist recommendation.” Jerry began stretching as well, ignoring her body’s silent protests.

  “She’s not here yet, but I hope she makes it. I’m a little worried. She was supposed to call me this morning, but I haven’t heard from her. My calls to her go straight to voice mail.” Kim shrugged. “Maybe she got tied up with her new friend. If she doesn’t show up for class, I’ll stop by her place.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.” Jerry lied; every warning bell she had was going off in her head. “Breaking in a new friend can be time consuming.” She winked.

  “It’s not really like that. I mean, she has a friend, but she thinks this guy could be the real deal.” Kim frowned. “I’m sorry, she asked me not to talk about it.”

  “Sure, sure. No worries. My lips are sealed.” Jerry smiled an unrolled her mat on the floor.

  Class was as excruciating as she’d thought it would be, but Jerry pushed through. She didn’t want to jump the gun, but her instincts told her that Sonja would not show up in class that day, or any other day. She approached Kim again as they were leaving.

  “Still no luck getting Sonja to answer?” Jerry asked as Kim frowned into her phone.

  “No. She rarely misses yoga, especially not two days in a row. I’m going over there.”

  “If you’re worried, I could join you. My driver’s right outside.” Jerry offered hopefully.

  “I hate to put you out,” Kim hedged. “She’s probably just holed up with him and I’m being ridiculous.”

  “You’re not putting me out at all. If she’s really in trouble, you’ll need someone there with you. If everything’s fine, then I can drop you back here, or anywhere you’d like to go.” Jerry smiled warmly. “I have an hour before my dress fitting, so you’d really be helping me fill the time.”

  “If you’re sure,” Kim suddenly looked eager for Jerry to join her.

  “I’m sure. Let’s grab a juice to go; I’ll text Ronald to pull the car around.” Jerry sent two texts, one to Ronald and one to Dylan. By the time they were riding towards Sonja’s home, Dylan was already en route as well, following the GPS signal on her phone. Jerry’s text was brief, but the message was enough to make him drop everything and go. He’d worked with her long enough to have full faith in Jerry’s instincts.

  Sonja’s apartment comprised the top floor of a restored Victorian less than three miles from the yoga studio. With stop and start traffic, it took them fifteen minutes to arrive.

  “What a lovely home,” Jerry remarked as they glided to a stop across the street from the painted lady. “Do you see her car?” Two cars were parked on the street, directly in front of the old home.

  “Yes,” Kim said with relief. That’s it there.” She pointed to a late model BMW parked in the narrow driveway. “Sonya has the top floor apartment and assigned parking.” Kim waited for traffic to pass before opening her door. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  “I’ll come to the door with you, just in case.” Jerry followed her out of the car.

  Climbing to the third floor of Sonja’s home gave Jerry’s legs a workout they didn’t need. Her adrenaline was pumping so that she hardly noticed the pain.

  The top floor landing was lit with the colors of an oversized stain glass window that appeared to be original to the house. A small table with a Tiffany lamp stood outside the apartment door.

  Jerry waited to the side as Kim knocked repeatedly and called Sonja’s name.

  “Do you have a key?” Jerry asked.

  “No.”

  “Call her again, maybe we can hear the phone ring if she’s inside and can’t answer the door.”

  Kim dialed Sonja’s number while Jerry looked over her shoulder, committing the number to memory. Both women listened intently for any sound inside the apartment.

  “She must still be out with Oscar.” Kim disconnected and turned back towards the stairs.

  “I’m sure that’s it.” Jerry hurriedly agreed. “Does she often disappear like this?” She kept her voice casual. “A friend of mine back in Maine disappears all the time. Says she needs her space.”

  “Not Sonja. I’ve known her for years and she’s as dependab
le as the sunrise. She’ll probably call later; she knows I’ll worry if I don’t hear from her.” Kim glanced back at Jerry as they walked down the stairs. “We sort of look out for each other.”

  “That’s good. We all need someone.”

  By the time the two women exited the home, Dylan had found a parking spot, one block up. He waited as the town car disappeared from sight before making his way inside.

  He already knew that Sonja Jenkins lived in an apartment owned by Rockstone Promotions, LLC. According to Jimmy, the resident geek in tech support, the BMW was leased by the same company. Following protocol, he took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Sonja’s door. After a few minutes, he went to the second floor landing, intending to do an impromptu interview with her neighbors.

 

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