by Carsen Taite
“No problem. I’ll drive so you can talk.”
“Well, uh…” She scrambled for a way to tell George she needed privacy without resorting to a lie. She gave up. “It’s kinda private. Only take a sec.”
“Girl?”
She nodded.
“I get it. Take your time. I’ll head on down to the garage and pick you up out front.”
Girl? Hardly. Ellen Davenport was full on woman, and she hated canceling their dinner. She called and practiced what she’d say through the rings.
“Hello?”
“Ellen, it’s Danny.”
“Are you standing outside with another cup of coffee?”
Danny blushed at her teasing tone. “I wish. I mean, no. I mean, I’m glad you enjoyed it. The coffee.” She plowed ahead to cover her awkward opening. “Look, I’m sorry to do this, but something came up and—”
“Work something or personal something?”
“Work. Definitely work.”
“You’ll be late?”
“Too late for dinner.”
“It’s never too late for dinner if you’re hungry.”
Danny melted into the flirtatious direction this conversation was taking. “I’m pretty hungry.”
“Well then, later tonight I expect you’ll be starving.”
“I imagine so.”
“Why don’t you come by when you’re finished working and I’ll feed you.”
“It might be late.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay, great. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Thanks for being such a good sport. I can’t wait to see you.” She hung up before the last bit of cool she possessed puddled on the floor. Ellen had flirted shamelessly and her best reply was “thanks for being such a good sport” and a giddy “I can’t wait to see you”? What was it about this woman that made her stumble all over herself? She had no business getting so swept up into Ellen’s charms. Thank goodness George wasn’t standing there listening.
She made her way down the steps of the courthouse and climbed into George’s waiting car. She’d never attended an autopsy before and she wasn’t looking forward to seeing a dead body again. She glanced over at George and plotted a way to ask questions about how the autopsy would go down without losing his respect.
Either he was genius at reading her mind, or he just assumed no one knew as much as he did. “The first time is weird. We won’t get there in time for rounds, but they actually do rounds—like you see on one of those shows, like ER or Grey’s Anatomy. Of course they aren’t trying to diagnose so they can make the person feel better, they are just trying to figure out what happened to cause their death. By the time we get there, the body will be in a room on a big silver table, with drains. There’ll be scales and specimen bottles. It smells, although this one won’t be too bad ’cause it wasn’t like they fished her out of a lake or she laid around in the woods for days before we got to her.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re gross?”
“All the time. Seriously, wouldn’t you rather be prepared?”
As if anything could prepare her for the continued aftereffects of these vicious murders.
A few minutes later, they pulled up to the beautiful and fairly new offices of the Dallas County Medical Examiner. George led the way to Dr. Winter’s office and they were promptly ushered in. Winter looked surprised to see Danny. “Olivia, my turn to watch you at work. Alvarez’s orders. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Frank wants a set of eyeballs in the room? I understand. I’ve reviewed the file so far on this case. Like I said at the scene, it looks like there are some differences between this case and the others.”
“I’m hoping you can clear that up for us. Do the differences indicate a copycat or is the killer escalating into more violent behavior?”
“Let’s go find out.” She led the way to the floors where the autopsies took place, narrating the features of the new complex as they walked. “In our old space, we were only able to do six autopsies at a time. Now we can do sixteen. We even have a special bay that will fit a car, so if the people on the scene aren’t able to extract the body, we can look at it while it’s still in the car.” She spoke the final three words with such enthusiasm, Danny almost expected her to fist pump the air. As a fellow county employee used to dealing with mismatched furniture and scarce resources, she appreciated the doctor’s excitement.
After they suited up in scrubs and booties, Danny and George followed Dr. Winter into her shiny, sterile showplace. Rita Randolf was already on the table in the center of the room. Naked. Before she could dwell on how sad Randolf appeared, Dr. Winter introduced her to a resident who would assist with the autopsy, Dr. Sebert. At Winter’s direction, the younger doctor explained the preparation he had already done, including a summary of his external exam.
“Here”—he pointed to the abdomen—“you can see these markings are the same as the ones on the two prior victims. But, then look here.” He directed their attention to the inner thigh. “See these? Like he was carving, or trying to draw a picture of something, but I have no idea what. Maybe he started to write a message, but was interrupted by something.”
Danny forced her senses to stay in check and she stared again at the spiked marks she’d witnessed at the crime scene. Something about them signaled a memory, but she couldn’t place it. “You have plenty of photos of these?”
“From every angle. They’ll be compiled with the report, but I can e-mail them to you beforehand if you like.”
George interjected. “We like. Anything you can get us on a preliminary basis would be most appreciated. We have lots of people breathing down our necks for information on this case.”
Winter nodded. “I understand. Shall we begin?”
Rhetorical question. She had a scalpel in her hand and was ready to get to work. She placed the scalpel on the skin near Randolf’s right shoulder, bowed her head, and held it there for a silent moment. Danny flicked a look at Sebert. He had his head bowed as well. Interesting. She would’ve thought the doctors would be more practical about their approach, but she appreciated their respect for the life they were about to examine. The life that wasn’t, anymore.
At the first cut, Danny forced down rising bile, but didn’t look away. Transfixed by the Y incision and the pulled back flesh, she shivered. Exposed, vulnerable. A ruthless killer had already violated this woman once. Now, they had to violate her again in order to catch him. Totally unfair, but totally necessary. For the next few hours, she watched as Winter and Sebert cut skin, sawed bone, and examined organs. Initial conclusion: elderly woman died of a gunshot wound. The tightening of the noose and the cuts had been inflicted postmortem. No overt sexual contact. Lab tests would be done to see if she’d been drugged, but nothing the medical professionals had learned today or would learn in the coming weeks would answer the one question that plagued Danny. The one question that would lead to the apprehension and conviction of the killer: Why?
*
Seven minutes until ten o’clock. Seven minutes until hot Danny Soto rang the bell. Ellen rearranged the pillows on the couch for the hundredth time, switched the lamp on the end table on and off and back on again, and straightened the painting on the wall. She studied her outfit, shook her head, and changed into a different sweater. One that hugged her breasts, showed a little cleavage. She hadn’t planned the delay in their evening plans, but she couldn’t be happier. A romantic dinner meant talking, sharing. Here, she had more control over the agenda and the only thing she planned to share was a healthy desire to fool around.
She had carefully hidden anything personal. Pictures, notes, even the mail. Since she’d moved her mother into Cedar Acres, she’d given up her apartment and moved back into her childhood home. Vivian had insisted she keep the place, and it was easier to stay here than it was to keep up with two homes. She’d gotten used to living in the home she’d grown up in, and had taken for granted how many memories permeated the many rooms, but tonight she d
idn’t want any conversation starters about her personal life to derail her plans to get Danny undressed.
Now, it was only five minutes to ten.
She started to open a bottle of wine, but wondered if Danny might like something stronger. Lord knows she could use a stiff drink. She wasn’t sure she remembered how to seduce a woman. Hard to believe she was even going to try. She paced her living room to work out her nerves.
Maybe Danny would be early. Maybe she wouldn’t show at all. She could get a call with a legal emergency, whatever that meant. Maybe she would confiscate her phone the moment she came in the door. Danny wouldn’t need a phone, or car keys, or anything other than her body for what Ellen had planned.
She jumped at the sound of the doorbell. Two minutes to ten. It had to be her. She swung the door wide and feigned a relaxed pose. “Come in.”
“That was quick. Were you standing right by the door?” Danny checked her watch. “I’m one minute early.”
Two, but who’s counting. Ellen offered a nervous giggle and ushered Danny into her home. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine or something else?”
Danny’s eyes twinkled. “No beer in cans?”
“I’m fresh out.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Whisky or wine. Your choice.”
“It’s been a whisky kind of day. Thanks.”
The twinkle was gone and Ellen desperately wanted it back. She pulled two chunky crystal glasses from a cabinet in her dining room and rummaged in the back for the bottle she knew was there even though she’d never opened it. The thirty-year-old Scotch had been a gift, and she’d been saving it for a special occasion. A prelude to getting laid for the first time in a year seemed like a special enough occasion. She poured them both a healthy dose of the amber liquid and handed one glass to Danny who took a sip. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she said, “I’m not sure I should drink this.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve never tried it. No good?”
“Exactly the opposite. Too good to get used to.” Danny set the glass on the coffee table and stretched her arms over her head. “But exactly what I needed.”
Ellen matched Danny’s smile. “It was a gift.”
“Better than I’ve ever tasted. Whoever gave you the gift obviously cared about you very much.”
Ellen searched her memory. Isabella. She’d gone on three dates with her a few years ago. They didn’t click and Ellen knew it on the first date, but she accepted the second and third because her mother had always told her she was too picky, that she should give people and opportunities a chance. Isabella had definitely been what her mother would have considered an opportunity—rich, good-looking, and clever. Ellen doubted she had given a second thought to the cost of the Scotch. To her it was a trifle.
She sensed Danny would think less of her for dating someone like Isabella, so she offered a slight untruth. “An alumna sent it to the office as a gift. I wound up with it.” Partly true. Isabella was an alumna and she had picked her up at work that night, likely assuming Ellen would open the bottle and they’d wind up naked on her couch. Maybe the spirit would lead to nakedness tonight.
“Can’t say I’m sorry you did.”
“Would you like something to eat?” That’s right. Fortify your date before you take advantage of her.
“I don’t want to put you out.”
Ellen pointed to the glasses of Scotch. “Grab those and follow me.” She led the way to the kitchen. “Snacks okay? I have some antipasto and a few things I picked up from The Festive Kitchen in Snider Plaza. You know the place?”
“Can’t say I do.”
“Try this.” Ellen picked up a bite and held it up to Danny’s mouth. After a slight pause, Danny parted her lips and accepted the offering. Within seconds, she was groaning.
“You like?”
“I have no idea what that was, but it was amazing.”
“Bacon apricot zinger.”
“Zinger, eh? I still have no idea what that was, but my last meal was a slice of cold, greasy pizza about six hours ago. You could feed me pretty much anything and I’d wolf it down.”
Ellen resisted the urge to reply with a salacious remark. Not yet. She lifted the tray and said, “Follow me.” She led Danny into the living room and back into less suggestive conversation. “Hard day?”
“Definitely.”
“Do you have a trial going on right now?”
“No, I’ve got other stuff going on.”
She motioned for Danny to have a seat on the couch, as she set the tray of snacks on the coffee table. She smiled when Danny dug into the food. “Let me guess. You’re still working on Marty’s murder.”
Danny coughed and set down the cracker she’d been chomping on. “Well, uh, yes. Kind of.” She reached for her drink and took a healthy draught.
Cagey response. Maybe Danny didn’t want to talk about work. Of course. She’d spent the entire day there, worked late, and the first thing Ellen did was ask her to relive it. She changed the subject.
“Tell me about you. Did you grow up in Dallas? Do you have family here?”
“Oak Cliff, born and bred. Went to Bishop Dunne High School. My parents still live in the house we grew up in, and my five brothers and sisters all live and work in Dallas. How about you?”
She’d been stupid to bring up family when it was the last thing she wanted to talk about. For the second time that evening, she offered a half-truth. “I grew up here too. Only child. Parents are still around.” She moved quickly to change the subject to keep from having to lie anymore; although why she cared she couldn’t really say. Maybe it was just that she didn’t really want to be talking at all. She wanted to be doing. Doing Danny. She changed the subject to bide her time until Danny had enough food and liquor to consider other comforts. “Do you like being a lawyer?”
“I do, especially being a prosecutor. I get to speak for the weak and vulnerable, or, in the case of people like Marty, for those who can no longer speak for themselves.”
“Comforting to know you’re on the case.”
“It’s a team effort. I just do my part.”
Time to move things along. Ellen placed a hand on Danny’s. “Are you modest about everything or just your work?”
Danny turned her palm up and curled her fingers into Ellen’s grasp. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called modest before. In fact, I answer freely to ‘shark’ and ‘tiger.’”
“Only in the courtroom?” She could hear Danny’s breath quicken and she took it as a signal to move closer. “Or are you a tiger everywhere?”
“I guess you’ll have to let me know.” Danny leaned back and tried to hide a yawn. “I’m sorry I got here so late. What do you say we make another date and try this all over again? I promise the restaurant I had picked out would make a much better start to the evening than me showing up late and tired on your doorstep.”
Another date? Ellen couldn’t think about another date when this one wasn’t going anywhere, or at least not where she wanted. She wasn’t interested in a romantic dinner, or romance in any form. She was interested in immediate gratification. Danny had struck her as the same. Had she misjudged? Only one way to find out. She closed the distance between them and slid a hand around Danny’s waist, pulling her close. She grazed her lips against Danny’s neck and whispered in her ear. “Are you too tired to enjoy the date you’re on? Because I don’t need dinner first, if you get my meaning.”
She felt Danny sway, then turn her head. Their lips almost touched, the heat between them fused them both in place. She didn’t move for fear of breaking the spell. She’d made the first move. Danny would have to make the second.
One beat passed. Then two. She couldn’t take it any longer. She ran her hand up Danny’s thigh as she leaned into her lips. For a split second, the surge of heat threatened to explode.
And then Danny made her move. Jerking back. Out of reach. The trance was broken, and it wasn’t about fatigue. No, so
mething else entirely made Danny withdraw. Ellen scrambled to pull her back. “Too quick? We can take our time. Another drink?”
Danny stood. “No, thanks. I need to go. I think we had different ideas about what this”—she waved her hand between them—“is about. Don’t worry. I’m sure you can find plenty of others to enjoy your expensive Scotch.”
She was out the door before Ellen could come up with a response. What the hell had just happened? She’d come on to a beautiful woman who’d asked her on a date, not the other way around. Was she that rusty that she didn’t recognize an invitation when she got one? Well, there were plenty of other women in the world besides Danny Soto.
Chapter Seven
The drive home was long and Danny mentally kicked herself the entire way. A beautiful woman had served her expensive whisky, fancy food, and had started to feel her up, and she practically ran out the door. Now she was headed home alone and hungry in more ways than one. Ellen’s closeness had definitely caused her to crave something, but it wasn’t a one-night stand, and that was clearly all Ellen wanted.
It’s what she should have wanted too. A good round of meaningless rolls in the hay might cure the loneliness she’d felt since Maria left. But she sensed meaningless sex might leave her lonelier than ever. She could almost see her mother wagging her finger, warning her she’d grow old alone. She’d finally met a woman she wanted to get to know, and the woman turned out to be a Casanova. Ironic didn’t begin to describe the situation.
