by Tripp Ellis
He strolled away without saying another word.
Denise and I exchanged a surprised glance. It was usually never that easy with Daniels.
"Let's narrow this list down. We're looking for a white male, early 30s. For giggles, cross reference possible matches against registered boat owners."
"Aye-aye, sir," Denise said, mockingly.
The private messages kept flooding into her inbox. Some were nice and sweet, and the guys talked about how they wanted to love and take care of her and shower her with cuddles. Other messages were dirty and raunchy, describing proposed sexual acts in graphic detail. There were a number of messages that didn't say anything at all, and just included a picture of the applicant's equipment. She received pictures of everything from jumbo frankfurters to small breakfast sausages, and everything in between. Some were fresh out of the package, and some looked liked battle-scarred veterans of the sexual revolution. It was a horrific sight, and something I could have done without seeing. After the first one flashed on the screen, I said, "I'm gonna let you handle this. This really isn't my area."
Denise scowled at me playfully. "Great. Let me deal with this all by myself."
"Perks of the job," I said.
I pushed away from the desk and strolled through the station. I called JD to see how he was doing and I filled him in on the plan.
"So, let me get this straight. We're just going to go to a bar and watch Denise meet with prospective Johns she met online?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"And do what? Wait till one of them tries to abduct her in an alleyway, or stuff her into the trunk of a car?"
"Something like that."
"And she agreed to this?" JD asked in disbelief.
"It was her idea."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Damn, I'm impressed."
"Let's just make sure nothing happens to her. Do you think you're up for this?"
"I feel great!” JD assured. “There's nothing wrong with me. You heard the doctor."
"If you say so."
"I'm saying so."
"Fine."
"Geez, what are you? My mother?"
"Just looking out for my friend."
"So, when is this going down?" JD asked.
"At the rate things are going, I think we could probably set up a few dates tonight?"
"Woohoo, it's party time!"
"The killer just disposed of one body. I guarantee he's out on the prowl for another. Hopefully we'll get lucky."
24
I had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. But there was no turning back now. We took every precaution.
Denise sat at a high-top table not far from us. Small, flesh-toned earbuds allowed us to communicate with one another.
JD and I waited in the wings a few tables over, pretending to be inebriated and having a good time. We had decided to set Beach Bums as the meeting location. From what I could tell, it was a place the killer hadn’t used yet to acquire a victim, but it fit his criteria.
Denise was all dolled up, wearing a skintight pair of hot pants and a bikini top. The outfit left nothing to the imagination. All of her glorious curves were on full display. Her flat, toned abs were a thing of beauty. She look cute and innocent and diabolically sexy at the same time. She was the girl next-door that could be naughty as hell. Every man's fantasy. The sultry red head was like a seal to a shark—and, hopefully, with blood in the water, we'd stir up a feeding frenzy.
"Radio check, over," I said.
Denise lifted her beer and took a sip, then whispered, "Copy that." Her voice crackled in my earbud.
I looked at my watch—it was 7:05 PM. The crowd was pretty thin at this point. The night was young, and you could still hear yourself think. The music got turned up louder and louder as the night went on.
"Your first date is late," I said.
"I'm aware of that."
"How far out did you space them?"
"Every half hour."
"Should have done every 20 minutes," JD said. "We'll be here all night."
"Well, next time, you can create a profile and meet with these creeps as often as you like."
JD frowned. "No, thanks. I'll leave that up to you."
A man in a suit stepped into the bar and glanced around. He was mid 40s and looked out of place. Everyone else in here wore shorts, jeans, T-shirts, bikinis, etc.
The man recognized Denise from her online images and took a seat across from her at the table. "Are you Melody?"
"I am," Denise said, extending her hand.
The two shook.
"I'm Alexander."
"It's nice to meet you, Alexander." Denise smiled. "Can I get you a drink?"
"Um, yeah, sure."
"What would you like?"
"I’ll have what you’re having."
Denise flagged the waitress down and ordered a beer for the man. The waitress was in on our sting operation. Her mission was to collect the bottle after Alexander had touched it. We could use it to match fingerprints and possibly DNA.
The waitress hurried to the bar and returned a few moments later with a cold brew. She used a napkin to set it on the table. We had already gotten a set of her fingerprints to rule out potential matches.
"Your profile says you're 32," Denise said with a healthy dose of skepticism.
"36," Alexander said, then smiled. "So I fibbed a little?"
He was still fibbing.
"That's okay," Denise said. "You don't look a day over 30." Now she was the one who was lying.
Alexander puffed up, basking in the compliment. "So, I've never really done this before," Alexander said. "How does this work?"
That was a fib too.
Denise smiled. "Well, we're just having a meeting to get to know each other and see if we might like to make some kind of arrangement."
"And what kind of arrangement would that be?"
"A handsome man such as yourself deserves the company of a good woman, does he not?"
Alexander smiled. "He does indeed."
"I'm great company," Denise said with a sultry grin. Then she made a pouty face. "Unfortunately, the cost of living is so high, I can barely pay my rent, my credit card bills, my car note..."
"And you need someone to take care of those for you?"
"Exactly."
"What kind of car do you drive?"
"A BMW convertible."
"That's a nice car."
"I like it."
"If I were to pay for your car note, what would that get me?"
Denise smiled. "That would get you dinner, drinks, and a little cuddle time. Once a month."
"What if I want to do a little more than cuddle?"
"Couples usually cuddle after they’re intimate."
"So we'd have sex?"
"That's hitting the nail straight on the head, now isn't it?"
"I work hard for my money. I want to know exactly what I'm getting for that."
"I'm not a prostitute," Denise said.
A smug chuckle escaped his lips. "Of course you're not."
"If we decide to make an arrangement, I can guarantee you will be more than satisfied."
Alexander grabbed the bottle and took a sip of the beer. "And what, exactly, am I allowed to do to you?"
"What do you want to do to me?" Denise said, smoldering.
She was good at this. Denise played him like a fiddle.
It was easy to see that Alexander's hormones were surging. He tugged at the collar around his neck, and sweat misted on his forehead. He suggested a few places where he'd like to place his weapon.
Denise pretended to ponder his offer for a moment. "You can have access to door number one and two, if you pay for my car note. If you want access to door number three, you'd have to pay my rent and my note."
Alexander could barely contain himself. "You drive a hard bargain. But I might be able to swing that."
"I'll keep that in mind. It was a pleasure meeting you, Alexander
," Denise said, subtly hinting that his time was over.
"What happens now?"
"I think about it, and I'll get in touch with you if I want to proceed."
Alexander deflated. "What's there to think about?"
Denise smiled. "Don't worry, Alexander. You want me to be choosy. So, when I choose you, you'll know my heart is in it."
A small smile tugged on Alexander's lips. "Okay, then. I guess I'll hear from you later?"
Denise nodded.
Alexander took his beer and pushed away from the table. He sauntered through the crowd toward the exit.
Denise whispered, "He's walking away with the bottle."
"I know," I said.
I flagged the waitress down and motioned toward the man as he strolled toward the door.
She ran behind him and snatched the bottle from his hand before he stepped onto the sidewalk. "I'm sorry, sir. You can't leave with the bottle."
His face crinkled, but he released the evidence.
The waitress darted back to the bar and placed the bottle in an evidence bag.
"We've got enough to bust that guy on soliciting prostitution," JD said. "Should we take him down?"
I thought about it for a moment. "I don't think he's our guy. Let's not waste the time. We'll get his prints off the bottle, and we can always bring him in later."
We recorded the whole thing with a small camera hidden among the condiments on Denise's table. She also had a small wireless camera in the necklace she wore.
The meeting with Alexander took roughly 15 minutes. We were still ahead of schedule.
Denise's second date was nothing like the first and didn’t go as expected.
25
The guy limped to the table and politely asked, "Are you Melody?"
"I am," Denise said with a bright smile.
He shook her hand and said, "I'm Hunter."
He took a seat across from her at the high-top table.
Hunter was barely 27 years old. He was a skinny guy, shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, and had a soft-spoken demeanor. He was a mildly attractive guy, and probably could have done well without having to pay for it.
He glanced around, nervously.
"Is this your first time?" Denise asked.
"I'm kind of socially awkward, you could say."
"Me too," Denise said.
Hunter chuckled. "I don't believe that."
"No, really. I don't like big crowds. I'm not much of a partier. I like to curl up with a good book, or watch a scary movie."
Hunter smiled. "Me too."
He seemed relieved.
"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Denise asked.
"Um, well, you know…" Hunter stammered. "I'm just totally over the dating scene. I don't want to do it anymore. I’d just like to be able to spend time with somebody I enjoy. It's not about the sex, or anything like that. I just want to be with someone who I can be myself around and isn't going to lie to me or start unnecessary drama."
"I totally understand. I am so over unnecessary drama. You have no idea."
"I figure, if I'm paying you to hang out with me, then I know what I'm getting into. I don't have to worry about you running around on me because that's your job. I know that going into this."
"So you want a girlfriend experience, without the hassle?"
"Exactly."
"What happened, did someone break your heart?"
Hunter slumped, looking like a sad, pathetic puppy. "I blew out my ACL playing basketball. My girlfriend dumped me. Can you believe that shit? Just bailed when I needed her most. I guess I began to interfere with her social life? Kind of hard to go on adventures with a bum knee."
Denise made a sad face. "That's not cool. But it's her loss. You're so much better off now."
"I know," he said with his head hung low.
"I bet you're pretty mad at her?" Denise said.
"Oh, I was furious. I was so pissed off. I had stuck by her through all her bullshit."
"How long were you two together?”
“Six years. Six years, and she bailed on me like that." He snapped his fingers.
JD and I watched and listened to the conversation.
"This one's got a lot of pent-up aggression," JD muttered in my ear. "Maybe he's taking his rage out on these unsuspecting girls?"
"Could be," I said.
Denise continued, "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Yeah, sure."
"What would you like?"
"Whatever you’re drinking is fine."
Once again, Denise flagged down the waitress. She held up her beer bottle and motioned to it, then signaled for two.
The waitress hurried over with two more beers. It was the best service anyone had ever gotten in a bar. That, in and of itself, should have been suspicious. But these gentlemen were too preoccupied with Denise to think about anything else. And who could blame them? She could make a dead man walk.
Hunter sipped his beer, then gasped with satisfaction. "So, how does this work?"
Denise gave him the sales pitch, and the price-list.
"Oh, okay," Hunter said, disappointedly, then slumped again. "So, the car payment is a little out of my budget range. I might be able to do that like every other month. Would that be cool? Like I said, I don’t need the sex part."
"We don't have to talk specifics now. We can work something out later."
"So does that mean that you want to see me?"
"I like to take my time with all new potential friends. So, I'll let you know." Denise smiled.
Hunter slumped again. "That means no, doesn't it?"
"No, it means I'll think about it."
It was like a switch had flipped. Hunter’s calm, pleasant demeanor vanished, and a rage-filled demon possessed him. His face snarled, and he growled, "You fucking bitch. You're just like all the rest of them!"
Denise's eyes went wide, and she leaned back, terrified.
Hunter glared at her for a moment, then pushed away from the table and stormed to the exit.
He left his beer bottle on the table, and the waitress snatched it up.
JD raised his eyebrows, and we exchanged a curious glance. "Seems like he might have some anger management issues."
Denise's voice crackled in my ear. "Did you get all that?"
"I did."
The waitress took a few steps, then the bottle slipped from her fingers and shattered into a gazillion pieces on the concrete floor. She gasped, and her eyes went wide, looking mortified. She glanced at me and flashed a sheepish shrug.
I shrugged back. Oh well. Trying to pull a fingerprint from the shattered remains would be a nightmare.
"Man, that guy got scary,” Denise said. “The devil was in his eyes."
"Think he's capable of murder?" I asked.
"With a temper like that? I’d say he's a definite suspect," Denise said.
"Do you want to pick him up now?" JD asked.
"We don't have anything on him. He didn't solicit prostitution. He just wanted to cuddle, remember?"
"I'm going to follow him. See if I can get a license plate number or something. Can you handle things here by yourself?"
I nodded.
JD dashed out of the bar and went looking for Hunter.
Denise watched Jack leave, and concern filled her eyes. "Where is he going?"
"He's just going to tail the suspect for a bit."
"You guys are my backup."
"I'm not going anywhere," I assured.
"I'd feel better if both of you were around," she said.
"What? Don't you think I'll be able to protect you?"
Her eyes narrowed at me.
It was too late to argue. Her next date showed up. This guy was a real piece of work.
26
Denise's eyes sparkled, and she sat up straight. "Ooh, this one's hot!"
The guy looked like he had stepped out of the pages of GQ. He had dark hair, chiseled features, and ice-blue eyes. He was dressed impeccably, wearin
g a Zangari jacket and slacks, a Domino Baldini shirt, and Augusto Cino leather lace-up shoes. The gold Färber watch on his wrist cost more than the waitress would make in a year. He had a brilliant smile and a square jaw.
"You must be Melody," he said as he strolled to the table.
"I am," Denise replied.
"I'm Declan."
The two shook hands.
He took a seat, and Denise offered him a drink.
"No thanks. I never drink and drive."
"How responsible of you," Denise said, pretending to be impressed. "How about a glass of water?"
A thin, almost annoyed smile curled his perfect lips. "No thanks. I'm fine."
"Indeed, you are."
"I bet you say that to all the boys."
Denise smiled, innocently.
"So, how long have you been doing this?" Declan asked.
Denise hesitated. "I… I just started, honestly."
"I can tell," Declan said.
"Really? How so?" Denise asked.
“You still have a sparkle in your eyes. The ones who have been doing this for a long time… their eyes look dull and lifeless. They look at you, and they smile, but they're not really seeing you."
The way he said it was kind of creepy.
Denise forced a smile. She raised her beer, toasting to her self, "Here's to never losing that sparkle."
Declan smiled. "You are even more bubbly than I imagined."
Denise flirted, and Declan seemed enamored with her.
"I'll just cut to the chase," Declan said. "Money is not an issue. My time, and getting what I want, is."
"I aim to please," Denise said.
"I have a very particular set of desires. I want to be sure we are on the same page."
"How particular?"
"I like to role-play."
"Role-play is fun."
"You can feel free to say no," Declan said." “It wont hurt my feelings. Best we get this out of the way up front."
"Neither one of us wants to waste our time."
"Are you okay with being tied up?"
"What did you have in mind?" Denise asked.
"Nothing too extreme. Maybe a little spanking. A little hair pulling.”
Denise didn’t object.
“How about choking? I mean, not until you pass out or anything. We’d have a safe word, of course. We would stop any time you said the word."