As the night wound down and the two detectives got hoarse from talking, Kyra tipped another few mouthfuls of wine in her glass and sat cross-legged on the floor. “Did you figure out how you’re gonna catch him, yet?”
“We’re working on it.” Jake pointed to her glass. “If you’re planning to knock that back, you’d better call an Uber to pick you up. Can’t allow you on the road, ma’am.”
Meeting his gaze over the rim of the glass, she gulped down half of it. “Looks like I’m leaving my car in Venice.”
Jake stood up and stretched, his hands practically touching the ceiling. “We’re going to call it a night, Quinn. I’m glad you were listening when I got the call from Bret. I always had a niggling suspicion about Laprey and the connection between these killers.”
“Twenty-twenty hindsight and all that.” Quinn eased up from his chair. “But I was puzzled from the get-go why the killer was taking two trophies. In addition to the severed finger, Cannon took a piece of jewelry. Fisher took a lock of hair, and now Copycat Three takes their underwear.”
“What do you mean?” Maybe her brain was fuzzy from the wine, and as she struggled to her feet clutching her wineglass Quinn strode over to help her to her feet.
Quinn’s blue eyes sharpened. “The killers took one trophy for themselves...and the severed finger for The Player.”
Ten minutes later, Kyra sat in the passenger seat of Jake’s muscle car, shaking from the V-8 engine rumbling beneath her—or from the evening’s revelations.
“Are you okay?” Jake ran a hand down her thigh. “I hope you know you’re not spending the night alone. I saw Fiona safely off to Lyric’s, so I don’t have to go home tonight.”
“That’s tonight. What about all the other nights?” Kyra hugged herself and leaned her head against the window.
“If you’re scared, you’re staying with me and Fiona. That’s it. Fiona’s not a child. She knows her mother cheated on me with her law partner and then married him. If she can handle that, she can handle her dad having his girlfriend spend the night.”
“And your ex?”
Jake swung the car onto Lincoln Boulevard and gunned it. “I can handle Tess.”
“Tess has an even stronger point now, Jake, even though she doesn’t know it. Danger is going to follow me like a heat-seeking missile. I don’t want your daughter in my orbit. Think about it. My foster brother, Matt... Yolanda, the homeless woman I was trying to question... Sean Hughes. They’re all dead.”
“You’re not responsible for any of that. He is.”
She stroked his cheek. “I’ll welcome your company at my place tonight and maybe even tomorrow, but when Fiona returns to your house, I won’t be there.”
“Then first thing tomorrow, I’m installing one of those camera doorbells at your place, and we can hook up a system in your carport and around the back in the alley by your bedroom window. You need security at your apartment, whether you’re there or not. We can sync it all with your phone. I can spring for an alarm system, too.” He poked at her purse with her gun stashed in the side pocket. “You sleep with that in your bedroom?”
“I have been, ever since he left that first playing card by the trash bin.”
“That’s my girl.”
He found a place to park on the street and grabbed her hand as they strolled to the apartment building. When they walked inside her place, Jake did a quick check of all the windows and her sliding door to the little patio where she kept a hearty cactus and a few hanging flowerpots.
“You have good security on those windows and the door, but anyone can break a window and you might not even notice it when you first come in.”
“You’ll get no argument from me if you want to outfit my place like Fort Knox.” She dropped her purse on the low wall that separated the short entrance hall from the kitchen. “Coffee, water, tea?”
“I’ll take some water. Is Spot around?”
“You’re getting fond of that mangy cat, aren’t you?”
“I always had pets, mostly dogs, until my old Lab died a few years ago. I didn’t get another dog because my work hours are too crazy. I’d have to hire a companion for him, and then what’s the point?”
“That’s why Spot is the perfect pet.” She stuck a mug of water in the microwave to boil and handed Jake a glass of water. “Crazy that The Player would post that stuff on a message board.”
“He probably didn’t think anyone with any knowledge would be perusing those messages. Anyone can brag on there. Bret told us he thought the guy was full of it. Others have made outrageous claims just to get a reaction from people. The red flags waved for Bret when he saw your username and thought you were another iteration of the person trolling for a following.”
When the microwave buzzer went off, Jake held up his hand. “Sit down. I’ll get your tea. Is that wine gonna give you a headache? Do you want an aspirin?”
“I ate enough Chinese food before Quinn’s bombshell to counter the effects of the alcohol. I’ll be fine, but I have to admit the wine helped.” She sank on the couch and pulled a pillow into her lap. “In the back of my mind, I always knew he was out there, but having Quinn confirm it socked me in the gut.”
“Nothing changes.” Jake carried a steaming mug to her, the end of the tea bag fluttering off to the side. He placed the cup on the coffee table and took the cushion next to her. “He was always out there, and now you just had it confirmed.”
“He wasn’t so careful this time, and you’ll get him.” She turned toward him and grabbed his hands. “Won’t you?”
“I promise you that.” He slid a hand through her hair and brought her in for a kiss, the taste of beer and Szechwan chicken still on his lips. “Is my toothbrush still here?”
“As the only one I have here who could possibly object to your presence is Spot, and he’s out on the prowl, your toothbrush is in the holder right next to mine.”
“As it should be.” He planted another kiss on her mouth. “Drink your tea. I’m going to brush my teeth and warm up your bed.”
Folding her hands around the mug, she watched Jake lope off toward her bedroom. How had she gotten so lucky? Bad luck had been dogging her most of her life, and then she’d caught a break with Jake...and Quinn. He and Charlotte had been her guardian angels and Jake had joined their ranks.
She drank half her tea and then put the cup in the sink. She double-checked the locks, retrieved her gun from her purse and shut out the lights. Jake had left ajar the bathroom door that led to the bedroom, and the TV glowed from the room next door.
She poked her head in the room to find Jake installed in her bed, the sheets at his waist exposing his bare chest. He had his phone in his hand and her pulse ticked up.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m texting with Fiona.” He held up the phone. “Lyric had a few other girls over for the night, and they just came in from the Jacuzzi.”
“Must be nice. Wish I had a Jacuzzi.”
“If you hurry up, I’ll give you a nice, warm massage.” He quirked his eyebrows up and down.
With a thrill tingling through all the right parts of her body, she brushed her teeth quickly and shed her clothing on her way from the bathroom to the bed. When she crawled in beside Jake, he pulled her flush against his body with one arm and pressed a kiss against the side of her head.
She clung to him, running her hand down his bare chest and flattening it against his belly. “It’s going to be all right, isn’t it?”
He rolled toward her and scooped her close, every line of his torso meeting hers. He smoothed his hands over her derriere and touched his warm lips to her ear. “As long as you’re with me, I’ll make it all right.”
And as he made love to her, his hard body firm against hers, his lips whispering all the words she ever wanted to hear...she believed him.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Jake dropped off Kyra at her car, parked in a public lot across from the canals in Venice. He continued on his way to his own place in the Hollywood Hills to shower and change for work. He’d called an emergency meeting of the task force on a Saturday to break the news that they now had evidence The Player was directing the copycats. They planned to keep the press in the dark...for now.
He dialed up Fiona on the way, his call going straight to voice mail. Nine o’clock must be too early for a teenage girl on a Saturday morning after a sleepover.
By the time he got to the station, half the task force had arrived. He’d told Kyra to stay put and start calling around to find out who carried the security systems he’d listed for her before he left.
When he dropped the bombshell at the meeting, the buzz in the room reached epic proportions. He hadn’t given Captain Castillo a heads-up first, and Carlos’s face across the room had taken on an ashen appearance. It was similar to the way Quinn had looked last night—disbelief, horror and...something else, known only to the people who’d worked that case.
After the meeting, Jake touched base with Brandon, whose job of identifying the creepy poster on Websleuths had taken on a whole new aspect.
The young man smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I can’t believe it. Just that one little bit of information about the ring, which he never even mentioned to me, and we’ve got The Player.”
“Not yet.” Jake clapped him on the back. “But we’re counting on you. Go, do your magic.”
“I wish it was magic. One of my guys and I are going to be here this afternoon working on those addresses. I’ll let you know when we have something.”
Jake approached Captain Castillo, still stationed in the corner at the back of the room wearing a crumpled suit that looked like he’d dragged it out of yesterday’s dirty clothes. “Sorry I didn’t have time to touch base with you, Captain.”
Castillo rubbed his unshaven chin. “Quinn told you about that ring, huh?”
“You knew about it?”
“I knew about Quinn’s hunch. I never saw that victim’s body. Quinn’s partner at the time wasn’t convinced the line was from a ring and when the ex and the family told us Delia Hopkins never wore a ring on that finger after the divorce, we gave it up.”
Jake braced a hand on the wall next to Castillo. “Delia must’ve lied to her ex. She’d obviously kept the ring, probably wore it around the house. Maybe she was planning to sell it and didn’t want to split the proceeds with the ex, so she pretended she threw it out. The description rings true to you?”
“I didn’t remember, but I looked it up this morning before your briefing.” Castillo rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to get out of here. My wife wants me to get some decorations down for Halloween.”
“Thanks for coming in, sir.” As Jake turned, he almost bumped into Trevor Jansen, a detective in Vice, the same detective who’d been outed by Sean Hughes’s blog a few months ago. He barely recognized the guy out of his undercover disguise. Jake nodded. “Jansen.”
“McAllister, I have some information I think you’ll wanna hear.”
Jake crooked his finger in the air. “Let’s get out of this crush.”
He led Jansen to the conference room that housed the task force war room, now devoid of its typical chaos. Jake sat at his desk and kicked out Billy’s chair in Jansen’s direction.
The detective straddled it and folded his arms on the back. “I saw the swizzle stick that was stuck to the most recent victim’s back.”
“Yeah?” Jake got a burst of adrenaline that made his head throb.
“I have a pretty good idea where it came from. You know of a strip joint on Hollywood Boulevard called Candy Girls?”
“Neon out front, high-end place as far as strip clubs go?”
Jansen’s lips twisted up at one corner. “The owner would call it a gentlemen’s club.”
“Of course. Aren’t they all?” Jake snorted. “You’re sure about it?”
“Not saying other clubs can’t use the same stir sticks, but I recognize that rainbow design from Candy Girls.”
Jake raised his eyebrows. “Frequent visitor?”
“My alter ego TJ Jones was a big fan.”
“That’s right.” Jake snapped his fingers. “Some drug sting went down there. How are they still open?”
“Manager wasn’t involved.” Jansen lifted a shoulder. “Didn’t know anything about it.”
“Thanks, Jansen. We’ll check it out and get the video footage.” As Jansen rose, Jake stopped him. “How’s your...friend getting along with Cool Breeze’s case?”
“I think she can help Billy find out what happened to his sister. Dina’s tenacious.” Jansen touched his fingers to his forehead and left the room.
When Jake walked out of the station for his house to change before meeting Kyra, he called Fiona again, and this time she answered. “Did you girls have fun last night?”
“Yeah, it was fun. We’re gonna see a movie in Westwood Village today and go shopping. I’ll text you later.”
Jake sent a quick text to Fiona’s mother with the update and headed home. Almost ninety minutes later, metal toolbox in hand, he pulled up to Kyra’s apartment building.
She met him at the door and aimed a toe at a box in her hallway. “Ring camera and two more systems for the carport and the alley.”
“Great. I hope your management company doesn’t have any objections.”
“I doubt they will.” She grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled him in for a kiss. “How’d the briefing go?”
“As you’d expect—shock, surprise, excitement. Captain Castillo took it hard, like Quinn.”
“This is their chance to nail him, though.” She sawed her bottom lip. “There’s definitely something going on between those two, some secret they share.”
“Maybe it’s just the shared misery of a serial killer cold case.” Jake dropped the toolbox and nudged it. “I brought these because I figured you wouldn’t have the right kinds of tools to install this stuff.
She raised her hand. “Guilty, unless a hammer, rusty screwdriver and a broken pair of pliers will do the trick.”
Jake pulled the boxes from the bags, and they borrowed a ladder from one of her neighbors. A few hours later, they sat hunched over Kyra’s phone, bringing up all the views from her cameras.
“This is awesome. I can check out my place before I even drive up.”
He rubbed a circle on her back. “Does it make you feel safer?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t get overconfident.” He pulled her into his lap, wanting to keep her there forever. “You still have to watch your back. Do you need to go to the gun range? I can get you into the range at Elysian Park.” He squeezed her bicep. “Get some practice in.”
“I was recently recertified. I think I’m good.” She twined her arms around his neck. “Do we get another night together, or is your daughter coming home tonight?”
“Another night.” He tugged on a lock of her hair. “How do you feel about strip clubs?”
She widened her blue eyes. “As a patron or a performer?”
“I wish.” He tightened his arms around her. “When I was at the station, Jansen stopped me and said Candy Girls in Hollywood uses those rainbow swizzle sticks. I’m going to get eyes on their CCTV, but in the meantime we can check it out on a Saturday night and ask a few questions.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me one bit if Copycat Three frequented a place like that. Probably thinks he’s the man,” she said, using air quotes. “Don’t forget, Jordy visited sex workers after his murders.”
“Does that mean you’re in?” He held out his fist for a bump and she obliged.
“Hell, I haven’t had a good night out at a strip club in forever.”
* * *
JAKE’S MOUTH WENT
dry when Kyra sashayed out of her bedroom in a pair of skintight black leather pants, a flowy white silk blouse and sky-high spiky heels. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
“Exactly. So, you’d better up your game because this—” she smoothed her hands down the thighs of her pants “—is not going to be seen with jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Yes, ma’am. Take some clothes for the morning. We’ll drive to my place so I can change, and then later you can spend the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“Okay, but one condition. I’ll drive my own car to your house.”
“Let’s dump these boxes in the trash, arm your security system and head out.”
Later at his house, Jake shook out a black jacket and slung it over his arm before jogging downstairs. When he hit the bottom step, Kyra turned and shimmied her shoulders.
“That’s what I’m talking about. You look hot.” She tilted her head to one side, her blond hair fanning out across her shoulder. “Did Billy help you choose that?”
“Give me a little credit for having some taste.” He straightened his cuffs. “Doesn’t hurt having a partner who’s a fashion plate, though.”
They drove down the hill and into Hollywood. The pink neon of the Candy Girls sign flashed a welcome, and Jake parked his car in a lot down the street. The club attracted all sorts of people, but the better dressed you were the better chance you had of getting inside.
The bouncer ushered in Kyra and Jake, and before the pumped-up watchdog could feel the gun on his hip beneath his jacket, Jake flashed his badge.
The man’s eye twitched. “Official business?”
Jake tucked away his wallet. “Not exactly, and the club’s not in any trouble. We’re more interested in your patrons.”
“I’m Greg. Just let me know if I can help in any way. Buddy, the owner, had a scare recently, and he put out the word that we’re supposed to cooperate with you guys at all times.”
The Bait Page 14
