by Deanna Lee
"You will."
She laughed softly as he lifted her off the floor and coaxed her legs around his waist. “How are you going to arrange that?"
Cupping her ass with both hands, he slid into her and stilled. “I thought I'd wear you out."
"I usually find sex invigorating,” she warned.
"The first couple of times will be,” he promised softly.
She gripped his shoulders and tightened her legs around him as he started to move. The quick and easy glide of his cock inside her pushed pleasure up through her pelvis and over her stomach.
"I've never had a woman like you. Always so wet and ready for me."
"Just looking at you does this to me.” The admission came in a near whisper. She tightened her legs around his thrusting hips and pressed against the wall for leverage.
Alex ran his hands over her thighs and back up to cup her ass, all the while pushing his cock into her with steady, relentless thrusts. “Are you going to come for me?"
"You always make me come.” She arched against him as he buried himself to the hilt inside her and ground his body against hers. “So close."
"I know you are.” He quickened his pace and lowered his face to the side of her neck when she started to shake.
Kyra moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders as she came. “Yes."
Chapter Eleven
Desi Marcos had gotten ten good hours of sleep on the cot in Inspector Moray's office and was a hundred percent. She had a double espresso on her left and the best fancy-ass compu-station she could wrangle out of the commander sitting in front of her. She'd spent nearly twenty minutes stroking and admiring the ENO3300 when it had arrived. The state-of-the-art compu-station had barely been out on the market for a week.
She'd also, much to her amazement, been placed on the task force for the serial killer. It was certainly the best Monday morning she'd ever had.
She closed the laptop as the rest of the team entered the room. Inspector Kyra Moray entered last with a large coffee in one hand and a canned soft drink in the other. Since being nervous would be stupid, Desi endeavored to look calm and not pop her gum as the conversation lulled to silence. The inspector had that effect on people.
"As you know, we've managed to locate the tattoo parlor that the women visited during Mardi Gras.” Kyra popped the top on the soft drink. “Dr. Marcos?"
Desi blushed with pleasure. She loved being called Doctor. “Well, I did manage to isolate the records for our three known victims. They weren't filed under their names."
"How were they filed?"
"Bitch 1, 2, and 3.” She paused, seeing the anger flash in Kyra's eyes. “I've also managed to find the other three tattoos done during Mardi Gras under the names of Bitch 4, 5, and 6.” She stood and turned on the holo-projector. A box of light appeared above the table. “The three remaining tattoos are a unicorn, a rainbow, and a little fairy.” The projector displayed the three images individually on each of the four side panels of the box.
"Good."
She put the projector remote aside and sat down. “Now, the bad news. Aaron Belton is dead. He died at age six."
"How?"
Ana nodded to Desi when the young woman looked her way. “His father, Jake Belton, came home and butchered the entire family twenty years ago. The house was set ablaze. The forensics team at the time was able to gather some ash and bone, but was never able to confirm that all three members of the family died in the blaze."
"We'll need the staff of the tattoo parlor to sit with a police artist."
"None of the staff currently working there, except for the owner, ever met Aaron.” Ana turned to a new page in her notebook. “We've got interviews set up all day. The three employees that worked with Aaron during Mardi Gras have not been located; however, I did manage to work through the rest of the names the owner gave us. Of the sixteen I found, only two others had ever worked with Aaron at all. Detectives Brant and Trane will be handling those.” Ana looked up briefly as the two men in question nodded. “You have a press conference in twenty minutes, and the commander wants to meet with us first."
"Okay, let's go.” Kyra stood. “Dr. Marcos, you can use my desk for the day. You'll find several mini-disks of information on people who knew the victims. I'd like you isolate all the records that Aaron Belton entered into the database. Send any data you find on Jake Waterman and the second-level search on Samuel Killian to me ASAP.” She paused, then picked up her p-pc. “Also, call ComSen and have them do a run over the network in this building, my office unit, and my unit at home."
Desi's mouth dropped open. “You think the killer is hacking us?"
"It's an avenue I'd like to explore,” Kyra answered carefully. “Also, I want a list of all personnel citywide who have accessed the files associated with this case."
The room went dead silent, and Desi stood. “Of course, Inspector. I'll get right on it."
* * * *
"So, what's her doctorate in?"
"Desi Marcos is a genius. I can't believe she works in public service, but good for her.” Kyra checked her folders as she walked beside Ana. “She got her first doctorate in forensic science, her second in criminal justice, and her third in medicine. The FBI has been courting her since she came through the Academy and joined the NOPD six months ago. She's been working with Parker for the past few weeks, but apparently likes to move around and try new things."
"The FBI must have offered a bunch of money."
"Doesn't need any.” Kyra paused in front of the commander's office. “I'm going to try to keep her in Major Crimes."
"Do you think we have a bad cop in the station?"
The commander opened the door before she could answer the question. The room was full of brass, but she'd expected no less. “Good morning, gentlemen."
"Inspector Moray.” Joseph Denis, chief of police for the city, offered her his hand. “It's good to see you. I expected it to be under better conditions.” He turned his attention to Ana. “Constable Salanti."
"Sir.” Ana took the proffered hand and flicked her gaze at Kyra just once.
"Kyra, you know the deputy mayor."
She nodded. “Good morning, Mr. Deller.” Kyra took a seat at the conference table in the room and waited until everyone else was seated. “We have determined that we are dealing with one killer. It has also been determined the killer is picking his victims out of a series of women that were tattooed during Mardi Gras by an individual calling himself Aaron Belton."
"You want to release that to the media?"
"I'd like to."
"The mayor does not want us to confirm that we are dealing with a serial killer. It would be bad for the city's image if we openly admitted to having such a monster here preying our populace,” Lloyd Deller stated firmly.
"I'd like to live in Never-Never Land, too,” Kyra responded. “However, since we don't, it's our responsibility to find and protect the women he has marked for slaughter."
"We also would prefer that you not use the word slaughter."
Kyra opened the folder in front of her, selected a picture of Stacy Valteau, and tossed it across the table in front of him. “Tell me, Mr. Deller, just how would you feel if that were your daughter?"
He paled and turned the picture over. “There is no need for you to be hostile. We want the same thing."
"Do we?"
"Of course. I won't have you imply otherwise. It is your responsibility to inform the public while maintaining an aura of calm. As far as you are concerned, although these murders could be connected, you cannot confirm that he is a serial killer. You don't have to outright deny it, either.” He cleared his throat. “You will not release the information about the tattoos."
Kyra glanced briefly at her commander before standing. “Constable Salanti, if you would, go down to the pressroom. Inform them that I'll join them in a few moments."
She took the picture off the table and tucked it back in the folder. “I will do as instructed.” All thr
ee men relaxed. “However, when the next body is found, and there will be another, I'm not going to keep the press away. I'll let them take pictures and give on-air reports right next to the body. Then I will stand there by that dead woman, and I will tell the entire city how the mayor's office tied my hands and didn't allow me to release data that could have saved the woman's life.” She focused on the deputy mayor, her eyes hard and filled with fury. “I will explain that the deputy mayor thought the people of New Orleans too stupid to understand the threat, and that he was afraid they would panic and not re-elect the mayor. He was afraid he'd lose his job, you see, too afraid to care about the women he was letting remain at risk."
"You will not threaten me!” He stood, furious in his own right.
"I'm not threatening you, asshole. I am making you a promise. If I stand over another dead body put there by that fucking monster because of your asinine politics, I will tear the mayor's office to shreds."
"Perhaps we can reach a compromise."
Finally, the Commander spoke. “Okay.” Kyra turned to look at him, then sat down. He had earned her respect, and he would receive it.
"We can display the three tattoos in question and ask the women to report to the station to answer a few questions. Let the press and anyone else draw their own conclusions. No one can disagree with the fact that we need to get these women off the street and into protective custody."
"That would be acceptable,” Deller murmured. He glared at Kyra. “After this case is over, Inspector, you'll be lucky to still have a badge."
"You will not sit in my office and threaten anyone under my command!” Baker snapped. “She's doing her job. And if you think you can get rid of her, you might want to ask the mayor who took a hit from an EP hunting rifle for him last spring."
Deller straightened. “She was wearing a vest."
Kyra cleared her throat and shook her head. “I'm going out to talk to the press now. Commander, it might be best if you came with me. The city likes to see you on the vid-panel, looking in charge."
He glared at Deller one more time and followed Kyra out of the office. Once in the elevator, he broke into a fair imitation of the weasel. “'She was wearing a vest.’”
"Well, I was.” Kyra laughed. “God, he's a horrid little man."
"You don't need to worry about your job."
"Oh, I know. If the mayor fires me, my grandmother will stop fucking him,” she responded softly as the doors opened.
Leaving Commander Baker howling with laughter, she went into the large pressroom and stopped at the podium. Several television stations had set up in the back of the room.
"I have a brief statement to make, and then I'll take a limited number of questions.” She cleared her throat and focused on Ana, who had positioned herself in the back of the room. “As you are aware, we've had a series of murders in the city. At this point, I am not willing to discuss the cases, as they are ongoing. I would ask the press to please respect the families of the victims and give them the privacy they need to grieve. We are also asking that any woman bearing a tattoo resembling the ones included in the press kit please contact us so that we may ask a few basic questions.” She planted both hands on the podium. “Questions?” Thirty hands shot up. She hadn't expected less. “Sally."
"Inspector Moray, is it true the three women murdered in the French Quarter over the past several days were murdered by the same man?"
"That is one of the many avenues we are currently pursuing."
"Would you classify him as a serial killer?"
Kyra paused for a moment, letting them get a clear sense of her hesitation. “Currently, we are unable to make such a determination.” She moved her gaze around the room. “Jim Daily."
"Are the women you are asking to contact the station in danger of being victims?"
"As I stated before, we would like to ask the women who have tattoos like those provided to come in for questioning. They are not wanted in connection with a crime. They will not be charged with a crime, and they may contact me personally if they'd rather not come to the station."
"Did the women who were murdered have tattoos?"
That question was deceptively easy to answer. “Not when we found them.” She held up her hand. “One more question. Jeff Marks, and ask me something I haven't already answered."
Jeff stepped forward. “What would you like to tell the people of New Orleans about these murders?"
Kyra raised an eyebrow and waited until Jeff's cameraman had chosen his shot. Silently she wondered when she'd gotten so freaking cozy with the press. “The only thing I have to give these women is justice, and they will have it."
"What would you say to the killer?"
She narrowed her gaze on Jeff; it was so tempting, but giving the killer her personal attention would have been inappropriate. She turned and left the room.
* * * *
Ana watched the reporters mill around the room, discussing what had been said. She went to the front and gathered the pictures and the folder that Kyra had forgotten.
"Hey, are you Moray's new partner?"
She stiffened and turned to look at the reporter who had spoken. “I am."
"What's she not telling us?"
"Go ask her."
"No way, I'd like to keep all of my body parts.” Jeff leaned on the podium. “What's it like working with her?"
"Ask me next week. I've only been her partner for two days.” Ana frowned. She wasn't even sure if it had been two days.
She hurried out of the large pressroom and hit the elevator that would take her back upstairs. The last thing she needed to do was get tangled up with a reporter and end up being an unnamed police source. Grimacing, she exited the elevator and walked purposefully across the large office space that housed the detectives in Major Crimes. Phil was at one of the desks now.
On impulse, she dropped into his visitor chair and slouched a little. “She's mad."
"Chocolate espresso usually puts her in a good mood.” Phil leaned back in his chair.
"If she comes out before I get back, tell her I ran next door for a snack."
* * * *
Kyra was pacing in her office when Phil stuck his head in. “I'm in no mood."
"So I heard. Mayor giving you a hard time?"
She kicked the file cabinet next to her. “The candy-ass sent the deputy mayor down to tell me what to do."
Phil came in and shut the door. “How's things working out with Salanti?"
"She's not nearly as entertaining as you.” Kyra rubbed her face. “Eager, good, a sharp eye.” She motioned at her empty desk. “Where's the genius?"
"Oh, she's down in the gym on her lunch break."
Kyra sat down in her chair and looked toward Phil. “Are you getting any flak about being pulled off the case?"
"No—well, not once some of the guys caught a look at some of the pictures. Mutilated women don't set well with any man. You knew Stacey Valteau."
"Yeah.” Kyra's mouth firmed up. “I did."
"How's Noel?"
"Neal had to hospitalize him.” Kyra rubbed her face. “I've never come so close to losing it on a notification in my life."
"But you maintained."
"I did."
"That's what counts. No victim's family wants to see a cop who can't handle the job. He'll get better, and he'll remember how strong you were, and how lucky they are to have you working Stacey's case."
Kyra nodded. “You're much better at the ass-kissing now that you don't have to sit in here with me."
He looked over his shoulder. “Speaking of which, I sent your partner off to get you a chocolate espresso."
* * * *
Ana groaned a little when she came out of the bakery and saw Kyra's transport parked out front. She put on a smile and tried to get over the fact that she'd been looking forward to sitting at her desk while she ate a snack. Kyra was on her comm-u when Ana opened the door.
"Look, I don't give a damn if you don't like it. If
I come down there and there isn't a closed sign on your door, you'll pay for it in every possible way I can imagine. Trust me. I have a healthy imagination.” She disconnected her comm-u with a savage punch of her index finger and looked toward Ana. “The fucking tattoo guy is trying to get on the vid-panel."
"Oh."
"Yeah.” Kyra rubbed her face and took the pastry and espresso Ana offered. “I can't, legitimately, do a damn thing about it. The mayor is going to shit twice and die."
"So, are we heading to City Hall to watch?"
"No. We are going to go see a man about taxidermy."
"Well, it's gross.” Ana sighed and settled into the seat as she continued to speak. “All you need is methanol and glycerin to soak the skin in once it's been cleaned."
"How do you know?"
"My neighbor across the hall is an avid hunter. Cures his own skins."
"You shouldn't spend too much time with him."
Ana laughed and shrugged. “A lot of men hunt."
"Yeah, but they don't all cure animal skins in the kitchen.” Kyra shoved the gearshift into drive and shot out into traffic. “Anyway, I made an appointment to speak with Billy Joe of Billy Joe's Taxidermy. He lives out in the middle of no-fucking-where."
"What do you think of Dr. Marcos?"
"She's young, but brilliant and very shiny. I think that working with us will probably rub some of that off.” She shrugged. “Why?"
"Just curious."
* * * *
"You should get those leather pants."
Kyra snorted and looked at the ones Ana had pointed out, then raised an eyebrow. They actually looked nice. “They're ridiculously overpriced."
"Yeah, but they're sexy.” Ana grinned.
"Can I help you ladies?"
Kyra flipped open her badge and let her gaze slide over the man who had come from the back of the store. He was a wiry little man with a shock of solid white hair on his head. “I'm here to see Billy Joe Canton."
"Ah, the police lady.” He motioned with hand. “Come on back to my office."
Kyra glanced at Ana, looking over her uniform. “Suppose he thought you were dressing up early for Halloween?"
They followed him behind the counter and into the back of his store. His office was a cramped affair with paper covering nearly every available surface. Billy Joe cleaned off two chairs by tossing several stacks of paper toward another overwhelmed desk. “Just saw you on the vid-panel."
