A Serial Affair
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“What could be better than you?”
Trudy grabbed his hand and shook it gently. “Don’t try to play me, son, ’cause I’ve been played by the best of them and am still here to talk about it. Your heart ain’t been into dating since you messed around with Marina and things fell apart. Let’s talk about your social calendar.”
“I’ve got a date with Sondra. We’re going to dinner and the movies on Friday,” he said as he started adding his mother’s name to the computer form.
Trudy snorted. “Sondra does not count, and you know it. You’re not interested in her.”
Still typing, Reed bit back a smile. He’d never said anything, but his mother was right. “I got a new assignment today at work,” he began, changing the subject.
An hour later he let himself out. He’d talked about the task force assignment but neglected to mention that Marina was the FBI agent he would be working with. In his mind he’d rationalized his omission because he didn’t want to get his mother’s hopes up. Both he and Marina had moved on. The uneasiness between them now was only due to both of them trying to figure out how to work with each other on a daily basis.
Outside the house he stepped into warm darkness once more. There was no one around. As he neared his Explorer Sportrac, he noticed that it was pitched at an odd angle. Whipping out his flashlight he examined the tires. The front tire on the driver’s side had been slashed.
From time to time youths in the neighborhood vandalized property, but Reed seldom had a problem. He hoped there was no connection with his new assignment.
Angry, Reed surveyed the area once more, certain that someone was behind the curtains of a nearby house, laughing. The perpetrator was long gone. Opening the trunk, he took out his tire iron and jack, and got to work. He was going to have to be more cautious at work and during his time off. Hopefully this wasn’t the start of something nasty.
Marina’s dinner with her dad at the Italian restaurant was a dramatic affair. In between salad and lasagna, Javier, darkly handsome with just a touch of silver at his temples, was usually a very charming and talkative man. Tonight he punctuated the silences with soulful sighs. This unconscious habit was something he did when he was worried and wanted to discuss his concerns with her. Through conversation she usually got it out of him.
For some unfathomable reason she suspected that this was one time she should ignore the signals. When she could stand it no more, she fixed him with an exasperated gaze. “What? What is it, Dad? What’s got you so stressed?”
He reached across the table to pat her hand. “Marina, you know you’re my heart. Maybe I didn’t always make the best example for you, but I always tried to do my best.”
Cocking her head to the side, she gave him a puzzled look. “Sometimes you drive me crazy, but you’re a wonderful dad. Have I ever complained?”
He shook his head. “No, but it’s not your nature. I should have remarried after your mother died, let you see what it’s like to have a mother around all the time instead of…all the girlfriends.”
This time Marina sighed loudly. Her father was as amorous as they came. Simply put, he liked women, and age, beauty and intelligence were no barriers. One concession she appreciated was that he’d never dated any of her friends, but that hadn’t dampened the interest of a determined few once they reached legal age. “Dad, where are you going with this?”
Javier gripped her hand. “Chica, is it my fault that you don’t get married?”
“No.” She eyed him as if he’d transformed into a three-legged chicken. “Uh—how’d you come up with that?”
“You and your cousins Janisa and Carmen, are all about the same age, but both of them are married. Carmen’s little Chico has the birthday party this week. Janisa is expecting. But you, you are alone. You don’t even have a boyfriend. Why not? I want you to be happy. And I can hardly wait for some grandchildren.”
“You’ll get grandchildren. One day,” she added quickly. “What’s the rush?”
“You’re twenty-eight now. You don’t have a long time to make babies.”
Marina rolled her eyes. “Uh…thanks, Dad. Do you think I’m almost old enough to retire?”
Ignoring her comment, he thrust another question at her. “What happened to Emilio?”
“I told you. It didn’t work out.”
“But you liked him. We liked him.” Javier’s tone deepened and he leaned forward, intent on pressing his point.
It had been a number of months since she’d sent Emilio on his way. Resenting her father’s pushing himself into her love life, Marina leaned forward, too. “Yes, I liked him, but I didn’t love him and he wanted to get married.”
“Then what about the other guy? Rich? Rod?”
“Reed,” Marina corrected. “And don’t tell me you liked him. I know better.”
“He was okay,” Javier corrected her gently. “But his Spanish wasn’t that good and he didn’t share the Puerto Rican heritage of our family.”
“Mama was African-American,” she stated flatly.
“Yes, mija, my daughter, I loved her very much. Why do you think no one has replaced her?”
“And her Spanish was good?” she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say more.
“Her Spanish was excellent. She tutored me in English.”
“But she didn’t share the Puerto Rican heritage,” Marina noted, just to see what he’d say.
Javier’s eyes lit up as he gazed inwardly. “To tell you the truth, I was so in love with Lily Ann Taylor, she could have been an alien and I would have followed her to the end of the universe.”
“Oh, Dad.” Marina gave his hand a squeeze. Hearing her dad talk about her mother often made her misty-eyed.
Javier lifted her hand and kissed it. “That’s what I want for you, mija, a love so strong that nothing else matters.”
“Maybe one day,” she murmured, wishing she could get misty-eyed about a love of her own.
The waiter came and give them dessert menus. Marina studied hers, hoping her dad was through poking into her love life. She’d never experienced a love so strong that nothing else mattered, and couldn’t even imagine that notion. The truth was that she’d never experienced love at all. What she’d had with Emilio had been a comfortable combination of lust and like with enthusiastic family approval on both sides.
“Tell me about your job,” her father said, starting a welcome new thread of conversation. “What’s going on with that?”
Marina told him about being appointed to the task force. She left out the part about working with Reed because she wasn’t going to have that discussion with Javier and she wouldn’t be doing anything with Reed but finding a serial killer.
As Javier dropped her off at home she saw her neighbor heading inside with her fiancé. The two looked so wrapped up and in love with each other that Marina felt an acute pang of envy. She wasn’t naive enough to think that any successful man would do. A man who stimulated her mentally, physically and emotionally, like Reed Crawford, was what she needed, only better. She started thinking of how she could improve on Reed. After all, he wasn’t perfect. After several minutes she gave up, disgusted with herself.
As she settled down at her computer, Marina forced her thoughts back to the task force and Lissa Rawlins. Tomorrow she would find out if Lissa could have killed Elliot Washington and Colton Edwards.
Chapter 4
Marina arrived at the station early the next day to find Reed at his desk, already at work on the computer. “I ran a cross-search of the violent death files on the computer with Merriwhether and hit the jackpot,” he said proudly.
“How many did you find?” she asked, praying that several murders hadn’t already gone by without someone making a connection.
“Just one. I’m printing the file now.”
Stepping around the stack of files on the floor, she stowed her purse in the desk drawer and locked it. Then she dropped into her chair and scooted close to Reed.
The printer whined just behind them and began spitting out the pages. Swiveling her chair around, Marina grabbed the first couple of sheets and began to scan them.
The victim’s name was Aubrey Russell. Twenty-seven years old, his body was found behind a popular nightclub, the Hot Spot, in the early morning hours. He’d been stabbed, his body mutilated. He’d also been killed about four months prior to the discovery of Colton Edwards’ body. Four months! “I think we’ve got a big lead on the cooling off period between the murders,” Marina said, grabbing a pen and a slip of paper to jot down the record number for the file.
Reed’s voice sounded close to her ear. “I’ve already ordered the full file. It has a lot more in it than they put on the computer system.”
Marina turned, her face almost colliding with his. She was excited about the new information and knew he was, too, but as their gazes held, something deep inside her heated and she momentarily lost her train of thought. Recovering quickly, she asked, “Did you notice that there was about four months between each of the murders?”
“Yeah, I’ve sketched out a timeline.” He showed her a piece of graph paper where he’d written down the months and marked the date of each murder with a star.
Marina glanced at her watch. It was only a quarter to eight. She worked to keep the note of censure out of her voice. “You’ve been at this awhile.”
“Yeah. I really want to catch this killer and I’ve got a lot riding on it.” Reed rubbed his eyes absently with the sides of his forefingers. “I woke up early this morning thinking about it and decided that I might as well get in here early. We’re going to find this killer, whoever he is.”
“Yes, we are.” Marina inserted her laptop into the docking station. She liked to be first in everything and on a team she drove herself to do her share or more. Right now it looked as if she would have to start getting into the office a little earlier if she wanted to keep up with Reed. “How long before we get the hard copy of the rest of the file?”
Reed stood, tall and broad-shouldered in a deep blue shirt and navy slacks. “It should be ready. I’ll go get it right away.”
Marina’s gaze strayed and she noticed the way the slacks covered his nicely shaped butt and hinted at muscular thighs. Reed had always been something of a contender in the eye-candy department. He had nice, big shoulders and an easygoing walk that radiated confidence. Gritting her teeth, she headed to the coffee area with a big cup. Did he have to look so good this early in the morning?
Together, Marina and Reed studied the details in Aubrey Russell’s file. She’d braced herself for what she’d see in the pictures, but her stomach still bucked and her throat froze. Somehow she managed to maintain her dignity. Russell had been stabbed in the chest and abdomen, like the others. He’d also been unmanned, the severed organ left close to the body.
Giving Reed the pictures, she pulled out another section of the file to study. “We need to get down to MUC to get their records,” she told him.
He nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same thing and I put in for a warrant, but we still don’t know what we’re looking for. Maybe we should talk to Washington’s friends and family first, and see what’s been dug up in the investigation? We need more to go on.”
Marina glanced at her spreadsheet and agreed that they still knew too little about the victims and the things they had in common. “Has Forensics got enough to give us some preliminary findings?”
Reed checked his watch. “SaintCloud, the forensic specialist assigned to us, said we could come by after nine and he’d be ready.”
Reed led Marina through the glass doors of the Forensic Sciences department. Eric SaintCloud was a wiry, intense man of about thirty-five with dark hair and piercing gray eyes. His gaze was steady as he shook Marina’s hand firmly. He directed them into his lab area where he’d set up most of the work he’d done so far.
Going through his analysis of the victim’s wounds, he informed them that the serial killer had used a knife similar to a common steak knife with a serrated edge on all three victims.
“I found something interesting. None of the three victims had defensive wounds on the hands, arms or forearms of their bodies,” Eric said. “Most stab victims have defensive wounds. Preliminary results of blood samples taken from Mr. Washington have been inconclusive, but I suspect that he was drugged. Maybe the others were, too.
“The killer probably used ketamine, a date rape drug, which would have impaired motor function, distorted perceptions of sight and sound, and given him a dreamlike feeling. Washington had been drinking, but he wasn’t drunk. Samples from the glasses at the scene are being analyzed. Alcohol alone would have slowed his reflexes enough for someone to take him by surprise, but I’m betting that an additional drug immobilized him enough for his attacker to repeatedly stab him.”
“How many times?” Marina asked, determined to keep her cool.
“Preliminary count, twenty.” SaintCloud didn’t skip a beat.
Marina blinked, swallowing a curse. There was a lot of anger and rage in twenty stab wounds. She added the information to the profile she’d been building in her head. “What about the other two victims?”
“Twenty to twenty-five times.” SaintCloud turned to remove something from the table. “This was found on Mr. Washington’s body.” He showed them a magnified photo of a blond hair. “It’s from a wig that can be bought in any number of stores in the Chicago area.”
“But that doesn’t mean that our killer has to be a woman,” Marina put in.
“That’s true.” SaintCloud continued, “Some of the stab wounds were to the chest, but most were below the waist on all three victims. Analysis shows that the attacker stood at least five foot eleven.”
Marina nodded. “We need forensics to see if the same knife was used on all the victims, and if the angles and depth of the blows indicate whether we’re looking for a man or a woman.”
“Already working it,” SaintCloud said smugly.
Reed’s head came up. “You don’t think we’re looking for a man? Aren’t most serial killers lower-to middle-class white males?”
“Been doing your homework?” Marina teased, raising an eyebrow.
When Reed merely flashed her a lopsided grin in response, she continued. “Yes, most serial killers are male, but the things that have been done to the bodies could also have been done by a woman who hated men.”
“It’s just less likely,” Reed put in.
Marina agreed. “Maybe these guys knew each other. Maybe they knew their killer, too. Then you probably know that serial killers usually choose victims that are vulnerable. I don’t see anything in the files that shows these guys as being vulnerable in any way.”
Marina left the forensics department with Reed, certain that the evidence supported their initial assumption that all three victims had the same killer. There still wasn’t enough information to determine if the killer was male or female.
By nine Reed and Marina had their notebooks and files and were getting into Reed’s unmarked car, headed for Lissa Rawlins’ place. They didn’t call first because Reed didn’t want to spook Lissa and give her a chance to run.
Apparently remembering their visit yesterday, the guard in the lobby simply nodded when he saw them. They buzzed the condo and a woman’s sleepy voice answered. Reed gave her their names and asked to be let into the condo. As Lissa buzzed them in, Marina glanced at him in surprise. Taking the small success in stride, Reed pretended not to notice.
Lissa Rawlins opened the door to her loft condo and Reed’s first look was enough to make him pause. Lissa was barely dressed in a revealing pair of red baby-doll pajamas and matching red-mink mules. Her double-D-size breasts thrust out like ripe melons. With effort, he focused on her face, made up Marilyn Monroe style. “We can wait for you to put something on,” he suggested carefully.
“I’m fine, Lieutenant Crawford,” she said, flashing him a smile right off the ad for 1-800-HotBabe. “Come on in and get comfortable.”
Reed strode into the high-ceilinged entryway, and onto a patch of the morning sunlight spilling in from the palladium windows. Marina followed close on his heels.
“This is my associate, Special Agent Marina Santos,” he added.
Barely nodding at Marina, Lissa faced Reed.
“This is about Elliot, isn’t it?”
Marina spoke from just behind Lissa. “Yes, it is.”
Lissa ignored her. “Have a seat on the couch,” Lissa told Reed. She moved ahead of him, spicing up the view with a provocative rotation of her slim hips.
Glancing back, he almost laughed at the annoyed expression on Marina’s pretty face. She hated to be ignored. Was she a little bit jealous, too? He suppressed a smile at the thought. Why should she be comfortable when just being around her kept him on edge? He hadn’t gotten over her yet, but he wasn’t going to let that or a nearly naked woman stop him from doing his job and finding the serial killer.
Reed took one side of the plush white sofa and Lissa sat with a knee beneath her, effectively taking the rest of the couch with a long leg spanning the distance between them. Marina settled for the matching chair across from them.
“I’ve been out of town,” Lissa explained, “but I knew that sooner or later someone was going to come around asking questions about Elliot. Am I a suspect?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Reed said carefully. “I’d describe you as a person of interest in the case.”
Lissa seemed to like that response. She leaned toward him.
He fed her his first question. “When was the last time you saw Elliot?”
Lissa rolled her eyes. “It’s been at least a couple of months.”
“Where did you see him?” Marina interjected.
Lissa made eye contact with Reed. “I met him at the Hartford Hotel. He was good and it was his favorite place to screw, you know. He paid the staff and they gave him his privacy. I just got tired of being second and third on his list of women. That man was doing me, little Miss Dansinger and whoever else he could get. He couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
Reed made notes in his little black notebook. “Do you know the names of any of the other women?”
Lissa shrugged. “Except for Jade, I didn’t care.”
“Some of his friends thought you were stalking him,” Marina said.
“And they’re lying asses,” Lissa countered shrilly. “Elliot asked me to meet him.”
Reed studied her, trying to look past her innocent expression to see if she had the will to kill Elliot. He knew she was lying. He held up a file. “I have a copy of a police report he filed, accusing you of stalking him.”
“That was before he realized that Jade wasn’t nearly enough woman for him,” Lissa snapped. “He came to me and begged for it, begged me to come back. It was the best sex we ever had.”
“Where have you been the past few days?” Reed asked.
“I was in Detroit, checking on my mother. I wasn’t even in town when he got killed and I can prove it. I’ve got the ticket stubs.”
Marina’s voice was cool and professional. “We’ll need to see those and we’ll also need your mother’s name, address and phone number so we can check your alibi.”
Lissa’s eyes widened momentarily, as if she was a little intimidated. “I’ll get it for you,” she promised Reed.
He went to the next question on his list. “Did you ever see Elliott with a man named Colton Edwards? Or Aubrey Russell?”
Lissa shrugged again. “I don’t know. They could have been the guys in that stupid fraternity Elliott used to belong to.”
Reed’s glance shot up from his notebook. He sensed that this was the break he and Marina had been looking for. “What was the name of his fraternity?”
Sucking her bottom lip, Lissa tilted her head. “Alpha Kappa Epsilon? I think that was it.”
Reed’s pen sped up. “Did you ever meet any of Elliot’s frat brothers?”
Pulling her knees up to her chest, Lissa put her back on the armrest. “No. He didn’t want to share me with them. Isn’t that a laugh?”
Before Reed could answer they heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. Lissa seemed to grow smaller as she lowered her legs to the floor to sit primly on the other end of the couch.
The atmosphere in the room changed drastically. The man who opened the door was built like a wrestler with a short, powerful body and pugnacious face topped with glossy black curls. “Lissa,” he said, taking in her scantily clad form, “why you sitting around guests in your underwear? What are trying to do, huh? Give the man a heart attack?”
“Relax, Tony,” she snapped. “They’re cops. They came to ask questions about Elliot.”
Tony slammed the door shut with an air of barely controlled anger. His wary gazed flicked over Reed and Marina, lingering longer over Marina’s breasts and finally her face. “You two got a warrant?”
“No.” Marina’s tone implied that it wasn’t a problem.
Tony gave off powerful waves of suppressed violence as he flicked a thumb at the door. “No warrant, then get out.”
Sizing the other man up, Reed spoke. “Tony, chill. We need to see Lissa’s airline ticket stubs and proof that she was in Detroit when Elliot Washington was killed or we’ll be taking her downtown with us.” He didn’t know how much control Tony had over himself, but he wasn’t taking any chances. His hand was close to the gun he wore strapped at his waist, just beneath his suit jacket.
Lissa scrambled to her feet. “I’ll get those stubs for you,” she said, hurrying into the back.
Tony approached Reed, his eyes sparking with aggravation. “I don’t know why you come here bothering Lissa about that bum. She was over him a long time ago.”
Marina stood. “How long have you been with Lissa?”
Tony rotated his shoulders. “About a month or so, why?”
“We need to know where you were the night before last, the night someone killed Elliot Washington. Maybe you decided to take him out of the picture.”
“No. I didn’t have to kill the bum. I already told you. She was over him,” Tony replied angrily, narrowing his eyes.
Marina didn’t argue. She simply waited for the answer to her question with an unwavering expression.
“I was playing poker with the boys from about eight till about two-thirty in the morning. I drank until I passed out.”
“You got someone who can verify that?” Reed asked.
“Yeah, Vince Vanetti.” Tony rattled off a phone number.
Bent on verifying the alibi, Reed whipped out his cell phone and called the number. Identifying himself as a police officer, he asked about Tony and the card game, deliberately giving the wrong day. Vince, the man on the other end hesitated for moment, and corrected him. Tony had been at his house playing cards, passed out and ended up spending the night. Vince promised to come down to the station to sign a statement.
Reed switched off the phone. Lissa had thrown on a robe and was waiting while Marina copied the numbers and information off her airline ticket stubs. Afterward, Lissa gave Marina a slip of paper with her mother’s name and address printed on it.
“You got everything you need from us?” Tony asked, looking as if he’d sat on the sharp edge of a tack.
Reed closed his notebook. “Yeah, but we’ll be back if this stuff doesn’t check out.”
“It will,” Tony stormed. “Now get the hell out of our house.”
Reed stopped in the act of gathering his things to confront Tony. “Hey, you need to watch your language. We’re just doing our jobs and we’ve treated you with respect. We expect the same back. If it’s too hard for you to be civil enough for us to do our jobs here, we can all go down to the station. Understand?”
Tony turned red and his dark brows pulled together like thunderclouds, but his head dipped slightly in acknowledgment.
Reed and Marina made a dignified exit.
“Do you think Lissa did it?” Reed asked as they got into the car.
Marina cinched her seat belt. “No, but before Tony showed up, I was sure she was going to try to get in your underwear. I’m still checking out her alibi. She could have taken a quick flight back here, killed Elliot and gone back to Detroit. If her mother is elderly or sick, how would she know?”