He returned inside and picked up the picture of his daughter. He really wanted to see her right now, but he and Tess had agreed that Fiona didn’t need to be here when he was working a big case, especially a task force like this one.
Had he been a good father to Fiona? Probably the best dad move he’d made was giving Tess primary custody and Fiona the chance to be raised in a two-parent home—even if that other parent had cheated with his wife. He couldn’t blame Tess for that any more than he could blame Kyra for wishing Dugan would die.
Married life hadn’t suited him. But fatherhood? He considered Fiona the best part of his life.
He closed up the house and got ready for bed. When he crawled between the sheets, he put on the TV. Most nights he fell asleep to the blue light that flickered across from him. He couldn’t manage any other way.
As he started to drift off, the phone charging on his nightstand rang. For the first time in a long time, something other than work popped into his head when he heard the ringing. Had Kyra made it back okay?
He grabbed the phone, which displayed the number from the station.
“McAllister.”
The voice ended all thoughts of Kyra and all thoughts of sleep. “You ready, J-Mac? We have another body.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kyra wheeled the LAPD vehicle back into the parking lot of the station. On her way there, she’d picked up a bite to eat and had called the hospital where the ambulance had taken Matt. They wouldn’t give her any information over the phone, but Jake hadn’t called her yet, either.
Although Matt’s death would remove one menace from her life, she didn’t wish him dead. She still remembered the scared boy lashing out at anything and everyone when she’d been placed with the same foster parents.
She’d been the one person who could communicate with Matt, talk him off the ledge, but he was already too far gone, too far beyond her help when she’d met him. Matt’s mother had been a heroin addict, and a long line of her boyfriends and husbands had beaten and abused Matt.
Kyra pushed through the front doors of the station and swiped the back of her hand across her nose. What kind of chance did a boy like that have in this world? She’d understood him...and he’d understood her. She hoped that Matt survived.
Nodding to the desk sergeant, she said, “I left some things here.”
“Go on up. A few people are burning the midnight oil.”
Her heart did a backflip. Did that mean Jake was here? Maybe he couldn’t sleep. Maybe he wanted to check up on her to make sure she returned the car. It was not like she could or even wanted to steal it.
Could she have trusted Jake enough to tell him she knew about his meeting with Matt and wanted to be there when he questioned him?
She stabbed the elevator button. Why should she trust him? He didn’t trust her. He’d been divorced once and through the ringer with another therapist. It didn’t take any special skills or training to understand the guy had trust issues. And so did she. A match made in hell.
Not that she was considering a match with Jake. There’d been a moment tonight when she expected a kiss from him, but she’d backed off. She had a feeling once she started kissing Jake McAllister, there would be no turning back.
She stepped into the task force conference room and blinked at the late-night activity. Her gaze jumped to Jake’s empty desk.
Billy called across the room. “You looking for J-Mac? He left a while ago.”
“No.” She had to stop being so obvious. “I left a few things here. What are you doing here so late?”
Billy slumped in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head. “I’m still trying to ID victim number one. I see her face when I close my eyes.”
Billy was a smooth operator, but like Jake, he was a good cop. They did this for the victims, and Billy was doing this for his sister. “None of the working girls around Melrose recognize her?”
“No, and it makes it harder going from a sketch. Her face was in pretty bad shape when we got to her, so we’re not showing that around. The sketch artist does a good job, but no hits yet.” He rubbed his eyes. Even his typically crisp suit looked wilted.
She took a seat in front of her computer and twisted her head around. “Hey, I heard you’re interested in meeting a friend of mine, Megan Wright from KTOP.”
Billy’s head shot up. “I wouldn’t mind an introduction—just to do it right.”
“You’re not married, are you?”
“Separated.” He drew a cross over his heart. “My wife and I aren’t living together. We’re both free to date.”
“Then I’ll give Megan your card and put in a good word.”
“I appreciate that.” The phone on Billy’s desk rang and he grabbed it. “Crouch.”
Kyra watched his face go hard as he listened to the words on the other end of the line.
“Where? Does J-Mac know?”
Kyra’s breath came out in shallow spurts. It had to be another victim.
Billy hung up the phone and steepled his fingers. “The SOB has done it again.”
“Another one?” Kyra had wrapped her arms around her body.
“This one dumped in the Ballona Wetlands.”
Kyra’s arms tightened. “That’s...bold. It’s not exactly the middle of nowhere like the canyons and trails he’s been favoring.”
He pushed back from his desk. “I’m heading out there. Do you want to come with me?”
“I’ll follow along in my own car, if that’s okay. The wetlands are closer to my place—too close.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
This time, Kyra left the station to follow an LAPD detective in her own car. She didn’t ask Billy if Jake was already at the site. If he wasn’t now, he soon would be. Would he be surprised to see her? Irritated?
Forty-five minutes later, she pulled behind Billy’s car onto a scene bathed in red-and-white lights. She didn’t have to plunge into the trees or hike down a trail. The yellow crime scene tape encircled an area just off the paved walkway through the Ballona Wetlands.
She tugged on Billy’s sleeve and pointed to a camera installed on a light post.
He shook his head. “I’ve already been informed that’s broken.”
Kyra kicked at a rock, and the long grasses of the wetland tickled her bare legs. She hadn’t even gone home yet to change clothes.
Given the hour, the only people shuffling in and out of the area were law enforcement, a few members of the press, including Megan, a few homeless people and a young couple. Had they reported the body?
She knew she wasn’t getting close to the crime scene so she sidled up next to Megan. “How’d you hear about this?”
“My guy heard it on the scanner. Young couple called it in. As soon as the Sheriff’s Department got here, they knew what they had and reported it to the task force.”
“So, she must have the playing card between her lips.” Kyra kept her mouth shut about the severed finger. That was not general knowledge.
“And the missing jewelry?” Megan put a finger to her lips. “This is off-the-record, but we’ve heard reports that the killer is taking jewelry from the victims as a trophy. True or false?”
“That falls under things I can’t tell you.” Kyra folded her arms in case Megan thought she could wheedle anything out of her.
“This is his fourth victim, all within two months. He’s voracious, isn’t he?” Megan looked over her shoulder. “And so close to where I live.”
“Are you nervous?” Kyra caressed the outline of her gun. Nerves didn’t get to her.
“A little. I mean, these victims are a bit younger than I am, but they’re not hookers, are they? They’re not runaways. They’re young women with jobs and school and regular lives.”
“Can I give you a pi
ece of advice that I don’t want to see on the evening news?”
“Yes.”
“Stay away from Melrose Avenue in West Hollywood.”
Megan’s eyes popped. “For real? Is that where he’s picking them up?”
“He’s not picking them up there, but let’s just say there are some connections to that area that might mean something.”
“I swear I’ll keep that hush-hush if you promise to give me what you got when the time comes.”
“I do.” Kyra caught her breath as Jake emerged from the crime scene, the bright lights highlighting the white T-shirt hugging his large frame.
He’d pulled on the same jeans he’d been wearing earlier for his meeting with Matt. It had been the first time she’d seen him out of his suit. The casual clothes suited him better, more in tune with his blatant masculinity.
Megan elbowed her. “There’s a hot guy trying to get your attention.”
Kyra had been assessing Jake’s body so thoroughly she’d missed his cupped hand gesturing to her.
“Speaking of hot guys, Detective Billy Crouch has you in his sights.” She slipped Billy’s card from her purse and handed it to Megan. “I told him I’d pass along his number.”
“Well, thank you.”
Kyra started toward Jake, who met her halfway.
Of course, he had to get in the first word. “What are you doing here?”
“I was at the station with Billy when he got the news. He invited me along.”
He took her arm and whispered in her ear, “Did you get the car back without incident?”
That was not what she expected from his lips with a dead woman in the wetlands. “I did. Is this for sure another victim?”
“Yes. Queen of clubs this time, severed finger, strangulation, no identification. This isn’t a fresh kill.” He pressed a hand against his chest. “I’m sorry. What I mean is, she was probably killed last night, not tonight. She’s far enough off the path to have been missed. This couple had a dog with them, and he discovered the body.”
“But so close to civilization. He’s getting brazen.” She pointed at the camera. “Billy said it’s broken.”
“It is.” Jake scratched at the scruff on his chin. “The killer didn’t do it, though. It’s been broken for a while, but he must’ve known that.”
“He’s thirsty.” Kyra sucked in her bottom lip. “You need to stop him because he’s not showing any signs of slowing down.”
Jake’s mouth twisted up at one side. “I know that. I’m waiting for that one mistake, and then we’ll close in on him. They all make mistakes.”
“The Player never did.”
“He did. Even Quinn will tell you he did. Nobody ever picked up on that mistake. The world is a different place than it was twenty years ago. Murder investigations are different. We’ll get this guy.” The coroner arrived, and Jake turned toward the van. “I need to finish this up. Get home safely—in your own car.”
“Got it.” She hesitated. “Will I see you at Marissa’s apartment tomorrow? Remember, I’m meeting her roommate, and we’re having a look at her jewelry.”
“I’ll be there.” He swung around and disappeared into the tall grasses of the wetlands.
Kyra walked back to her car and waved at Megan getting into her news van. The drive from the Ballona Wetlands to Santa Monica took her less than fifteen minutes at this time of night.
She pulled into her parking spot. As she walked past the dumpster, she studied the ground. She saw a plastic bag that had probably floated from someone’s trash, picked it up and slipped it beneath the lid of the dumpster.
Not that she expected another card, with Matt lying in a hospital bed. If Matt was telling the truth and someone had paid him to leave the cards, that person could just as easily pay someone else to do the deed.
But why?
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Kyra saw two clients in the morning and then drove to Marissa Perez’s apartment in Reseda, not far from where her abandoned car was found, to meet her roommate, Darcy Myren. Jake had indicated that he’d be late and to start without him.
She pulled alongside the curb in front of a large apartment complex and buzzed the apartment number.
A shaky voice answered the intercom. “Yes?”
“Darcy, this is Kyra Chase. Is this still a good time?”
For her answer, Darcy buzzed open the door, and Kyra stepped into the cool, tiled interior of the apartment building. Neat rows of brass mailboxes lined one wall, facing two elevators.
Kyra went up to the third floor, where Darcy stood at the door of her apartment, waiting for her.
Darcy’s dark eyes narrowed. “I thought that cop was coming with you.”
“He’ll be here later. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, c’mon in.” She widened the door for Kyra, and she walked into a place in upheaval.
Kyra raised her eyebrows. “Are you moving?”
“I just can’t take it here anymore. I know Marissa wasn’t abducted from our place or anything, but it just creeps me out that someone could’ve been stalking her or watching us.”
Kyra’s pulse jumped. “Did Marissa ever mention being stalked?”
“No.” Darcy placed a hand at her throat. “It’s just all too weird. I’m staying with friends now, but I’m moving back in with my parents in Orange County for a while. I can’t afford this place on my own, anyway.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Do you want to talk before Detective McAllister gets here? Then we can look through Marissa’s jewelry together.”
“Okay.” Darcy perched on the edge of a floral couch that had seen better days. “Marissa’s sister is coming out from Texas in a few days to pack up her stuff.”
“Have you looked through Marissa’s things yet?”
“I’m too scared to go into her room.”
“I understand.” For the next half hour, Kyra allowed Darcy to pour out all her fears and anxieties and paranoia.
By the time the external intercom buzzed, Darcy had cried herself dry.
“Is—is that the detective?”
“Probably. Let him up and go wash your face. I’ll meet him.”
“Thank you.” Darcy dabbed at her wet, swollen eyes. “If I need more help...”
“You can see me again, or I can make a recommendation closer to your parents’ place.”
Darcy hopped up and answered the intercom, punching the button to allow Jake entrance to the building.
As Darcy retreated to the bathroom, Kyra stood by the door to greet Jake.
He strode down the hallway, his face grim, his muscles tense.
She swallowed and stepped into the hallway. “Everything okay?”
“We identified the victim from last night—Gracie Cho.” He shook his head. “Graduated from USC last year.”
“Any connection to Melrose yet?”
“Not yet.” He pointed to the door. “Everything okay with Darcy?”
“She’s very upset. Can’t even bring herself to look at Marissa’s possessions, but it’s a good thing we’re here. Marissa’s sister is coming out from Texas to pack up her belongings in a few days.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
She let Jake into the apartment just as Darcy was returning with a freshly scrubbed face and a red nose. “Hello.”
“Hi, Darcy.” He swiveled his head back and forth. “You moving out?”
“Yeah. The landlord’s letting me break the lease and everything.”
“That’s good. Do you want to show us to Marissa’s room?”
“This way.” She led them down a short hallway and pushed open a door. “Marissa had the master because she made more money than I did and paid more rent.”
Jake poked his head into the neat room. “She worked at an advertising agency i
n Sherman Oaks, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, she did online content for them.” Darcy sniffed and pointed to a wooden box on top of a dresser. “She kept her jewelry in there, but like I told Kyra, Marissa always wore that jade bracelet. You won’t find it there. He took it.”
A chill whispered on the back of Kyra’s neck. “Let’s make sure.”
As Darcy hung by the door, Kyra crossed the room to the small dresser littered with makeup, perfume, ticket stubs and all the other accoutrements of a life well lived by a twentysomething young woman.
Kyra flipped up the lid of the box, and stirred her finger through a jumble of costume jewelry. “I don’t see a jade bracelet here. Darcy, can you have a look just to make sure?”
“I suppose.” Darcy crept toward the dresser as if she expected someone to jump out at her at any moment. Kyra didn’t blame her.
Darcy picked through the tangle of necklaces and bracelets, working some pieces loose and setting them on top of the dresser. “Told you. The bracelet’s not here.”
“Thanks, Darcy. That’s helpful.” Jake gestured to the door. “Can we talk a little more? Just a few questions that have come up since we last interviewed you.”
Darcy beat both of them to the door and resumed her seat on the edge of the couch, looking ready to take flight. “Is it true that this guy gave her a shot of something before strangling her?”
“We think so. You said Marissa didn’t use drugs, right?”
“She barely drank.” Darcy clutched the arm of the sofa with one hand, her multicolored nails digging into the worn fabric. “Why her?”
“Probably no reason at all.” Jake sat on the chair across from Darcy, mimicking her pose on the edge of his seat. “Do you know if Marissa had any reason to be in the West Hollywood area, specifically Melrose Avenue?”
“Melrose?” Darcy’s dark brows formed a V over her nose. “No. I mean, maybe we shopped there once or twice, but not often. That stuff’s expensive down there.”
Jake asked, “She didn’t know anyone who worked there? Didn’t have any reason to be there for business?”
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