Beautiful No More

by MJ Nightingale

  “Oh my God. They are dead? He killed them. Why?” she crushed her face into his chest. She needed the solidness of him to anchor her. This was horrendous. She felt her life crumbling around her.

  “I don’t know, Cat.” He continued to hold her, to stroke her back as the shock turned to tears.

  “Andreas, you have to stop him. I don’t want any more people to die.”

  The guilt consumed him. Neither do I, he thought. Neither do I.

  * * *

  After the police left, Andreas and his brothers sat with Cat in the study. Thankfully, the only good news they had was that the police were now ruling her out as a suspect. Romeo’s prints and the killing of her neighbors when she was out to dinner with him gave her a clear alibi, but the police had something that sent flags up. The investigators kept implying she was the key to it all. That the killer was someone from her past. And even though he had no reason to think that, he was beginning to believe it too. A hunch. He expressed it to the group gathered in the study.

  Cat shook her head in the negative. “I don’t know. How? I still think I am just a random target. You know my past. I have not been in a place long enough, or had close relationships for some madman to develop this kind of obsession.”

  Andreas wanted to argue, but he didn’t want to push her too hard.

  Nikko cleared his throat and all eyes went to him. “Cat, I’ve been thinking about this. Sal killed my parents because Andreas was on to him. But,” he paused giving Andreas a sympathetic glance, “He has killed three of your girls. The note on your door. The message in your bathroom. Your neighbors. It is really looking like you are at the center of his infatuation. Can you understand why people, the police, the analysts are now thinking you are at the heart of it?” Cat was still shaking her head, but she didn’t look so sure anymore. She was still absorbing his words.

  Andreas thought he was on to something. So he let him keep talking while he sat beside her to give her support. “Listen, Cat. I have studied this, gone over this a thousand times in my head. I know we all have, but after studying this killer’s timeline, it fits. This man’s rage didn’t start in New York ten years ago. It had to have started earlier. You came to the country twelve years ago. The first of Romeo’s crimes were committed ten years ago. For arguments sake, he meets you somehow, but when you went into protective custody and disappeared for a while you got a new name. Perhaps, just perhaps, you met this man and he became fixated on you then, and when you were liberated and no longer available, his anger festered and grew until he killed. I,” he shook his head sadly. He hated voicing his opinion out loud, especially about something like this, but all eyes were on him, and Ronnie was encouraging him to continue. “I really think this guy knew you when you were a . . . a,” he paused looking for the right word.

  It was Cat who had provided it. “A sex slave.” But she nodded at him to continue.

  He cleared his throat before speaking. “When you disappeared from sight and he no longer had access to you, then he began to kill.”

  Gio stood up and spoke next. “Shit! That makes a lot of sense to me.”

  Andreas agreed and gave them all in imperceptible nod. It made a hell of a lot of sense, but he kept quiet. He wanted to support her, but was damn proud of Nikko for coming up with that idea. It was a place to start. They needed to know more about the people around her then. He hated having to ask her about that time in her life. Didn’t want her to have to relive it, but if it could help them to catch this guy . . .

  Blaze spoke next. “Cat, I can understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but maybe, just maybe with Andreas” he suggested, “you could tell him about those years. The people you knew other than those who are still behind bars.”

  She was shaking her head. “No. I have told him some, but stay. All of you.” She gave each of the brothers a measured gaze. She had gotten to know them better, and knew they were fiercely loyal to one another. She looked at Andreas last. “They can stay.”

  “Cat, if this is something you don’t want to do right now, I’ll understand.” She saw nothing but concern for her in his eyes and it touched her.

  “No. I still don’t know if this will help, but if you all believe this can in some way help you to stop him, I will tell you all I know. Anything you want.”

  Andreas was proud of this woman. She was so strong in the face of a nightmare most women would never be able to handle. He picked up her hand and squeezed it, hoping she could feel the strength behind it.

  She returned it with pressure of her own and then licked her lips and swallowed. “Okay, well I told you about my younger years.”

  He nodded, encouraging her to tell her story in her own way.

  She let out a long breath of air before she started. Her hand went up to her forehead. “Let’s see. I was kidnapped in Amsterdam when I was 12. I was walking to a dress maker’s shop to pick up some items for one of the women who employed me. I was grabbed from behind. When I awoke, I found myself on a boat, tied up, in a cabin alone. It was a nice boat. A yacht. I was terrified even though I had not been harmed. I was brought food and drink. The boat went to Turkey, I learned later, and eventually I was transported to Iran. There I was told of my fate. I was to be a concubine. They had a doctor come and examine me. They determined I was a virgin.” Again, she let out a shaky breath.

  Andreas winced at what that must have been like. Just twelve years old. He knew these things happened. Even here in the United States. But knowing someone, caring for someone it had happened to, he ached for her.

  She must have noticed the change in him, and stopped for a moment. “Please, Andreas. Don’t pity me. I can’t see that in your eyes. I am not broken. I survived it. But if I see pity, I won’t be able to finish. I have never told this to anyone. I tell you because I trust you,” and then her gaze swept the others. “All of you.”

  “You are a very strong woman,” Nikko stated, perched at the end of his seat. He admired the woman Andreas was coming to care for, or even possibly love. He glanced his brother’s way. The steel was returning to his eyes.

  “Go on, Cat. I don’t pity you. I am sick knowing these crimes happen. But, I only think of you as a survivor. Someone I don’t want to see get hurt.”

  She squeezed his hand, and closed her eyes briefly, soaking it in. His words gave her the strength to continue. “Since I was a virgin, I was to be a gift to a young sheik. I was kept in a harem and trained to be his lover. Two years. The sheik was to have me when I was fourteen.” Cat closed her eyes; he could see her swallow. “He did. He kept me for six months. Then I was given to someone else. This man was not kind.” Andreas saw her shiver, and wanted to murder the man. Both of the men who were her first experiences. “He was killed in Afghanistan, thankfully. I was with him one year. It was hell, but not the worst kind of hell.”

  Andreas felt cold. He steeled his heart for what she would tell him next. He knew it would chill his blood. Her own reaction to her story terrified him.

  “As he was dead, many of his men who desired me, took their turns with me until his son came to take over his estate. That took about two months. They ill-used me and starved me, beat me. I thought I would die. The son sold me once more. I was seventeen at this time. The man who bought me was Greek, and he did not keep me long. Just a month. Until I was recovered from my ordeal and fattened up as he called it. Then I was sold to an American Greek and transported to Maryland. I was seventeen and lived and worked under his employ for two years. The man’s name was Demetrius Makas.” Andreas remembered the articles. The man was still in prison. He would never get out. “He had four homes that I knew of for I was moved to those homes in those years. I believe he rented a house for a period of time, and conducted his business there, and then would move us girls and women to a new location periodically. Andreas,” she cleared her throat, “We were kept very busy. There was work to be done every day. We were to keep the home neat, and welcoming. We were assigned chores, made our own clothes. At
night we were sent to our rooms; we each had a room, and then the men would come in and tell us what we were to do, or just lie still. If we did not do as we were told, we were beaten, and our rations cut. The men who visited in the evening, we rarely saw twice. A raid freed us. We testified against Demetrius and his employees and then most of the girls were sent home to their families. I had no family and was just shy of turning 19 so I was given asylum, counseling, and allowed to stay due to the circumstances of my birth as I told you about.”

  Andreas could not think straight. The life she was forced to lead had been horrific.

  “Andreas, this was my life. It is all I knew for a long time.”

  He had to say the right thing. When he looked into her grey eyes he wanted her to know he was not ashamed of her, but proud of all she had come through. Pulling her closer, and tucking her under his arm, he simply stated, “You. Are. Remarkable.” Then he pressed a kiss to her lips and hoped that his act would show her what he couldn’t formulate with words.

  She wrapped her arms tight around him and with a shudder, rested her head on his chest. Andreas looked to his brothers, and he could see they were all stunned by her revelations. Gio sat ramrod straight, but when he caught Andreas’ look, he gave him his nod of approval. Turning to Blaze and Nikko they each also gave their sanction to the woman he was falling in love with. It was Nikko who broke the silence first.

  “Cat, my brother is right. You are remarkable. And I don’t know of another woman who would have survived all that. You won’t get pity from any of us. I think we are all proud to call you our friend.”

  Cat looked up. She looked across the room and saw in all of these men’s eyes, blue like Andreas’, determination and pride. “Thank you. I am proud to be your friend as well.” The words she managed to get out were spoken thickly around the lump that was rising in her throat making it difficult for her to swallow.

  “Would you like a drink, Cat?” Nikko asked. She nodded and he went to the sideboard and fixed her a cup of coffee. No one spoke until after she had taken her first sip.

  “Cat, I know the police have questioned you a lot today, and you have told us a great deal. Would you mind if I asked you a few more questions?” It was Andreas who spoke from beside her, his arms still keeping her strong.

  “Okay,” she whispered. Her mind worried over what those questions might be.

  “If my brother Nikko is right, then it is your years in Maryland and here in America when you may have met this man, Salvatore Mazzelli. Does that name or a form of that name strike any memory within you?”

  She shook her head in the negative. “No, none of the men were named Salvatore, or Sal. Most were Greek names. None Italian. The paying customers, most we never knew their names, and like I said, most we did not see again.”

  “So you had some repeat . . . customers?” he knew it wasn’t the right word, but he also knew she would understand what he meant.

  “On occasion, but we never fostered relationships with the men. They were only allowed one hour in the room, and rarely did any try to stay longer.”

  Blaze piped in next. “Hmm, well I don’t see how it was one of the John’s then. To develop this kind of infatuation with someone, they would have had to have been around a lot. It had to be one of the employees.”

  “No,” Cat said quickly shaking her head vehemently. “It could not be one of them. Demetrius was as cruel to his employees as he was to the girls, and they changed frequently. If anyone was found to be talking to us or attempting to try anything he was removed from employ. We usually did not see those men again.”

  “No one, then, that sticks in your mind as hanging around. Anyone who may have tried to be your friend,” Andreas asked.

  “The girls, we talked some times. But no, Demetrius’s son. But he was a simpleton. Disfigured. He rarely spoke.”

  It was an explosion. “What?” Andreas stood abruptly. “Did you say disfigured? How? What did he look like?” Gio was up out of his seat. All of them stood before her like sentries.

  “Spiro, um, he had a hair lip. A lazy eye. But he hardly spoke. He would bring us treats. Sneak us chocolates. We felt bad for him. His own father abused him.”

  “Treats? Did you talk to him?” Andreas’ eyes looked frantic.

  “Yes, sometimes. He was not always around, but sometimes. His father ignored him and made fun of him. Called him slow. Clown face because of his lip. Retarded because he spoke poorly because of his lip. We felt bad for him.”

  “Why? What kinds of things would you talk about?” The questions came rapid fire and she was having difficulty following the train of thoughts.

  “His own father treated him like dirt on his shoe. Disappointed him in all things. Said he would amount to nothing. He was brought in to do small repairs sometimes. The parents were divorced. We talked about our past sometimes. Not much really. He would listen. Smile sadly at us. Give us sweets.”

  “My God do you think?” Gio gripped his brother’s arm in a vise.

  “I most certainly do. We need to call Connor McGee with the FBI. Find out what happened to Demetrius’ son. Get some pictures of him. Do a comparison and age over time.”

  “You don’t think it is him?” Cat asked shocked. “He was simple.”

  “Cat,” Andreas turned to face her again gripped her shoulders. “Salvatore Mazzelli had a hair lip. He had an astigmatism and wore glasses. We thought he was Italian, dark complexion, black eyes. But he could have been Greek. Fuck, how did we miss this?” Finally, they knew something. A light had gone off. They most likely knew who he was, but now they needed to find out where he was.

  * * *

  Later that evening, after Cat had retired for the evening, with the promise to join her soon Andreas pulled his brothers aside for a private word. He informed them he had called in a favor once more from his friend with the FBI to get access to more information on Demetrious and his son. He hoped the man could work miracles. Grand Juries were private affairs, conducted in private and the records sealed. He had also put out feelers to friends he knew at Child and Family Services in New York, to find out how Spiro had gotten the identity of Sal Mazzelli. Sal had come out of foster care, or so his earlier investigation a decade ago had revealed. But he was sure they were one and the same, and Connor McGee would help him to prove that.

  “But we still need to find out his identity now. That is critical.” Gio got to the heart of the matter. “To find him we need to know the identity he is using now. Even his fingerprints can’t help with that.”

  “I absolutely agree with you, Gio.” Andreas had thought of that; he had been consumed with making the link today and had focused his energies on that.

  Once again it was Nikko who surprised him. “Well, I was thinking about that and I have a suggestion. It might not be a great one, but . . .”

  “Go on,” Andreas encouraged.

  “Well, Cat mentioned that Spiro Makas did repair work, odd jobs, right?” At his brother’s nod, he went on. “And, Sal worked for a company that did the same thing. Cleaned office complexes at night. His father, if the two are one and the same, did not trust Sal to do much more than that. As a kid his self-esteem had to be pretty low. Dad runs this big corrupt operation, has goons do the dirty work, and only trusts the son to change lightbulbs, and fix broken toilets.”

  “Yeah, and,” Blaze looked pensive. He wasn’t sure what his brother as getting at.

  Nikko pushed back a thick lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “Well, he is also disfigured. No girl will want some loser like him, his father tells him, and well, you see how Cat is despite all she has been through, accepts everyone, so he becomes fixated on her. Brings her treats and such. The only one nice to him.”

  “Exactly,” Andreas murmured in appreciation. The kid was smart.

  “Wait, there is more. So then the bust happens, and the one person he loves, the only one who is nice to him, does not see him as a freak, disappears. He becomes obsessed with finding her. Da
d gets arrested, thrown in jail, and he is on his own. Changes his name, somehow, to Sal. Steals that identity from a foster kid on the street. Heads to New York. We don’t know why. But he is triggered and starts to hate what he once loved. ‘Beautiful no more.’”

  “We need to run another analysis on the guy. I’m going to check this with a profiler. But, I think you are onto something.”

  “Definitely,” Gio added. “It would make sense that in New York Sal worked at night. He gets a job where he does not interact with a lot of people. One of the first girls killed was last seen in that area of Baldwin. Maybe he tried to pick her up, and she turned him down, walked away. She was a pretty brunette. Seventeen.”

  “All his vics had the dark hair. All prostitutes, homeless, or street people, accept the girl in the park in Rosedale.” Andreas recited this from memory. Each of those girls faces were burned into his mind’s eye from the photographs he stared at for the year he had hunted him down.

  “I think it fits,” Gio stated. “But how do we proceed?”

  “Career. Repair, janitorial, cleaning,” Nikko interjected. “And something recent. Last six months to a year. If he came to town earlier, he would have heard our names all over the press and not stayed in town.”

  “That is fucking brilliant, Nikko, but still a lot of places to look on the off chance that he is still employed.” Blaze shook his head.

  Nikko smiled. “Not if you narrow it down to places where he could have spotted Cat. She has admitted she doesn’t go out much. He had to have spotted her somewhere, right.”

  Andreas clapped his brother on the back. “Genius, Nikko. You would have done great as a detective. That narrows it down considerably. I want to call someone in on this. His name is Tony Alvarez. He runs a security team up in Virginia. I met him couple years back. But he has some serious tech people who are fantastic, the best hackers, and computer guys in the business. I’ve used them before when we need some info. He’s always been able to get it.” His eyes brightened. “In fact, he will be in town this weekend. His guys have been hired by General Melendez for the big fundraiser charity event at MacDill.”