He laughed in his understated way. “Are you phone-flirting with me, Dr. Lukens?”
“Just give me a time for tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
She really was. When she got home she chose light-colored capri pants and a pink blouse, stepped into her favorite flats, and grabbed a bottle of chardonnay. She only drank champagne when celebrating and she wasn’t doing that quite yet.
Maybe she was hopeful in a cautious way. That was about as far as she could go. Everyone has issues—she should know—and commitment was one of hers, but unfortunately, that same demon apparently haunted Carl Grasso.
Part of her wondered if that wasn’t why she was so fascinated.
* * *
Carl checked his phone and then pulled on a pair of genuine deck shoes he’d worn only one time before. He felt ridiculous and took them off and chose something more his style.
He never used the yacht.
Like never.
His father had inherited it and he had memories of sailing on it as a child. Georgia would probably have a field day with all of that, but he wasn’t about to discuss it. Not that she’d ever asked personal questions, but more that she hadn’t. She was probably analyzing him on some level because that was what she was trained to do, and he knew from personal experience it was hard to shut off work.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was thinking. Of course he had his faults, because everyone did. It was no secret he liked to dress well and drove an expensive car, but he could afford it, so why not. He had a housekeeper, and if he ate home-cooked food, it was because she’d made it and left it behind with specific instructions on how to heat it up. He enjoyed solitude probably a little too much, and expensive scotch was a good friend and helped him sleep. He voluntarily spent too much time at work, had no real hobbies, disliked the idea of having a pet, and all of his relationships with women had been of the temporary variety.
This one, though, had some potential.
One of his faults was that he didn’t truly like many people. He liked Georgia Lukens because she had a serene beauty he admired, but more because she reminded him of MacIntosh in a way, in that she was tough as nails under that feminine exterior. He sensed that resilient inner strength, and it was part of why he was willing to put some effort into getting to know her even better. Dependent women weren’t his thing at all. The minute they started to cling, he started to let go.
He pulled into her driveway right on time and Georgia came out the door carrying a bottle of wine and a light jacket. Her hair was loose and she had also dressed for an evening boat ride.
She slid into the car and set down the wine. “I’m looking forward to this. I always remind myself I live on a lake and very rarely enjoy it. By a yacht, do you mean … a yacht?”
“My grandfather made a lot of money in railroad stock.” He backed out carefully. “It’s a yacht all right. I wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to sail it. So there I am still in college and suddenly own that enormous house and a big boat. I have to admit I didn’t know what to do with either one.”
Just when he was positive he didn’t want to make revealing statements, he did.
That was about as open as he was ever going to get about his past. He changed the subject. “There’s been another park murder.”
“I know. What do you make of it?”
Of course she knew. Maybe both Santiago and MacIntosh had told her.
“Without the note on the body, I’d have just first thought suicide and walked away, but there was no way he could do it on his own without climbing the tree, and that seems improbable. Not impossible, but not likely. He was unconscious, and the person who killed him threw the rope over the branch and hoisted him up and then tied it off. The note on his body nails it. It’s a homicide tied to the first two.”
“Are they making progress?”
“You mean MacIntosh and Santiago? Aren’t they talking to you?”
“Can’t answer that one because I take confidentiality very seriously. Are they talking to you?”
He drove toward the lake. “Someone threw a brick through Santiago’s truck’s back window. There’s no way to connect it. Thoughts? So far the killer has stopped by after the fact to offer assistance. Not this time. He stopped by with a brick.”
Georgia frowned at the windshield. “Hmm, I don’t know. Santiago might want to be careful. That’s a definite message. With the murders it is to wave an arm and say look at me. The brick was more personal.”
“Than a human life?” Carl was skeptical.
“You asked and I answered.”
“The brick was more personal?”
“He took a jab at Santiago alone.”
Carl made a lane change. “Your assessment?” He truly was curious.
“He’s jealous. When a male has an interest in a female he can tell when there’s competition. This isn’t new science; this is like extremely old science. Remember Helen of Troy?”
“I’m old, but not that old. She and I never met.”
“You aren’t old.” Georgia gave him a reproving look that held a glint of laughter even with the subject at hand. “A late bloomer at worst.”
“Oh, now I feel good about myself.”
“So Helen launched a thousand ships, but I’m guessing that wasn’t her choice. That was all male. You compete, and you do it in a ruthless way. It’s how you work.”
“How some of us work. What makes you come to this conclusion, Dr. Lukens?”
“He’s evolving. The park probably means something, but I’m not sure what it could be.”
“Childhood?”
“I don’t know. It represents something important to the killer. I wouldn’t think that except two different parks have been used. It could be something as simple as an easy place to dump the bodies. I’m inclined that it gives him a venue where he can watch them being discovered. You could take them to a mall or retail parking lot—can you imagine trying to pull that off? But placing them there is a much greater risk. In a park you can linger and no one would notice. You are supposed to linger in parks. That’s why they exist. To relieve us as a society of endless concrete and busy streets. They are a place of joy for children and wildlife.”
Carl nodded. “You might make a very good detective, Dr. Lukens. I agree. There’s a dark thrill factor going on somewhere.”
“I don’t think you should even try to connect the victims. I believe he’s being very random on purpose. He’s thumbing his nose and telling you he can kill people and you can’t catch him just because of that.”
“But he’s sending flowers to MacIntosh and has called her twice now.”
“You can’t trace the phone?”
He took a left turn, heading for the pier. “No dice. We tried and we have some pretty efficient technicians that can handle almost everything. He blocks the number, but we speculate that he used a burner phone the first time and one of the victims’ phones the second time. Different location, and now, since he takes their ID, he probably has a third phone, because he takes that too. He isn’t making it easy on us.” For some reason Carl found that violation of privacy to really pile insult on top of the ultimate injury. For someone to kill a person and then use their phone to taunt the police took wrong to a new level, and he’d seen it all. How this person unlocked it wasn’t really a mystery, since so many people were free with their passwords if they trusted the person. Even if they needed a thumbprint, the tech team said that could have been done easily.
Georgia said, “He’s a clever opponent.”
“I’m willing to concede that, but still not a fan. We’ll catch him.”
“You sound confident.”
“He’s taking chances, and Santiago and MacIntosh are good at their jobs. The killer will make a mistake. We all do. He’s targeting his partner and Santiago isn’t going to let that go. He isn’t easygoing.”
“I think I’ve n
oticed that.”
“I invited them to join us for this joy ride.”
“What?” Georgia looked nonplussed.
He lifted his shoulders. “That way we can keep an eye on both of them.”
They were the closest people to friends that Carl had. There was a brotherhood that came with police work that he believed in moments of contemplation operated a lot like organized crime in some ways. Acknowledging what you did was dangerous, having the backs of people who had chosen your same path, seeing them for who they are, recognizing where they were strong and where they were not … the list went on.
It was hard to describe. He cleared his throat. “I’m apprehensive. I don’t like this. MacIntosh is capable, but she’s a woman. That might sound sexist, but one undeniable fact of life is that males are bigger and stronger. Her Glock might level the playing field, but if she didn’t see it coming, she’d probably lose.”
“Caveman stuff.” Georgia’s mouth curved into a smile. “Both you and Santiago are like guard dogs circling the perimeter.”
He looked out over the city lights and said it. “Be happy. I think we’d both do the same for you.”
Chapter 10
The brick might have been a real mistake if he’d gotten caught. The sound of splintering glass had brought them running, and he’d known it would, so escape involved split-second timing. Still, he’d gotten to see the look of dismay and fury on the face of Ellie MacIntosh’s partner, and it made it worth the risk.
If that old couple in the car had seen him, he would have been in serious trouble.
Timing really was everything.
He didn’t think of it as luck, he thought of it as … well planned.
* * *
It really was a yacht.
Sleek and long with aristocratic lines. Santiago said incredulously, “This can’t be it. He said boat ride. I was going to help offer to row. This is the Queen Mary.”
Ellie pointed at the name painted in elegant script on the back. “The Caroline Anne. I think this is it. Be careful getting on. The last time we did this, you nearly drowned.”
“Luckily you saved my sorry ass while I was trying to help you catch the bad guy. I’m anticipating a much better trip this time. I can’t believe Grasso owns this. He’s never mentioned it. She’s a beauty.”
Standing on the dock, getting ready to board, Ellie sent him a derisive look. “Have you met him? Oh wait, I think you have, pretty much every day. He’s not a forthcoming person. That just isn’t his thing.”
“How much effing money does he have? Do you have any idea how much this cost when it was built? It’s a classic. You can tell from the lines. A lady all the way and she has been loved. It’s immaculate. Good for him.”
“I believe he works because it gives him something meaningful to do. If you were in his shoes, you’d be on a beach somewhere watching girls walk by in thong bikinis.” She elbowed him in the ribs. The sunset was bright red over the water.
“Ouch.” He theatrically rubbed his side. “And damn straight I would. Toes in the sand and drink in hand, I’d just be admiring the view.”
She didn’t believe it, and she knew he understood she didn’t. No one did their particular job without true dedication. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“For about two days, maybe.” He gestured at the gangplank. “After you. You look hot, by the way, just in case you were wondering.”
He was the most impolite/polite man she knew.
“Thanks.” If she could level him with the lethal death glare, he’d have been gone a long, long time ago, so she didn’t bother. “I wasn’t wondering.” After a moment, she did say, “I do, however, appreciate the compliment.”
“I like the skirt. It emphasizes certain of your attributes I admire. If you think I’m being nice letting you always walk in front of me, think again.”
One of their ongoing problems was she never knew exactly how to handle him. He’d been especially flippant lately, and she was well aware that part of that was her fault. Georgia was absolutely correct, she wasn’t ready to talk about his abrupt declaration and question. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. You look nice too.”
He did. Not that he’d dressed up, but clean jeans and a decent shirt were about as far as he went anyway. “I’m dying to meet Grasso’s ‘date.’ She’s probably an heir to an old family fortune or something like that. I’d guess she flew from the Hamptons on a private jet and will be wearing a diamond necklace worth a million dollars.”
Not so, they found when they walked onto the deck.
“Oh shit.” Santiago was as expressive as ever as he spotted her sipping a glass of wine. “You aren’t serious.”
Ellie rarely agreed with him, but right now …
It was really Georgia Lukens sitting in a chair on the polished deck. She didn’t look any more comfortable than they did, but at least they all knew each other. Maybe too well.
No secrets and no privacy, really.
It took Santiago to break the ice. His lack of tact came in handy now and then. “What the hell? You’re dating Grasso?”
Maybe there was a reason Ellie liked Georgia so much. She could even make Santiago speechless. Almost. She responded, “We know each other thanks to the MPD. I think you were there when we met. Chardonnay? The crab puffs are delicious, by the way.”
Grasso said in his usual dry tone, “Have a seat. Look at it this way, no introductions necessary. Santiago, I assume you’d like a beer. I bought the cheapest I could find just for you. It was a little embarrassing, but I wanted to be a good host.”
“We might know each other a little too well. And yes, that would be great.”
Ellie accepted a glass of wine. She probably needed it for this evening.
It was a beautiful view with the lights of the city reflecting across the lake. As they took their seats, Ellie noted that Grasso as usual was a contrast to Santiago’s inelegant style. But those two men had a different background, to say the least.
Why she was drawn to the bad boy was beyond her.
Perhaps because he wasn’t bad and she knew it.
The wine was cool and crisp. Ellie wondered whatever would they talk about, but luckily Grasso took care of it in his usual succinct way. The job was his thing, hands down.
“This case you’re working. Another body? What does Hammett have to say?”
Santiago answered. “There was alcohol involved again.”
“So he’s targeting them at bars.”
“Probably,” Santiago agreed, relaxing now in his chair, his hair ruffled by the breeze. “God, this is a nice boat. Sell your house and just live on this, Grasso.”
The water did ripple like liquid gold under the moonlight as they got under way.
“There’s no place to park my car. Okay, so the only link between the victims is the alcohol?”
There were times when Ellie thought Grasso had no sensitivity. Not that he was just brusque, but he was … detached.
Maybe Georgia could help him there. Ellie said, “There’s no link. Different age, different sexes, and certainly there are no ties to a specific job. No luck on the tulip lady?”
Grasso shook his head. “The ME can’t determine if it was an accident or an intentional death enough to rule manner was homicide. I don’t believe for a microsecond it isn’t, but there’s no proof it was a homicide.”
“Except he asked about the flowers.”
“We’re stuck.” Santiago shook his head. “We have three witnesses that saw the jogger, and if she could confirm he was the same one who paid her to buy the tulips, we could bring him in for questioning anyway.”
Grasso said succinctly, “If we can find him. We don’t have her, so it is a moot point.”
It was a frustrating case and Ellie was afraid she had a deep vested personal interest in solving it. The sum of the parts was mounting.
“Your killer is elusive.” Georgia looked reflective as she took a cheese puff from a tray. “He has a goal, we just
don’t know yet what it is.”
“His goal is Ellie,” Santiago said flatly.
Oh, that was cheerful. This was dinner conversation on a beautiful night on the water? She interjected, “Montoya sent me a profile. The man doesn’t know how to relax any more than we all do. Care to take a guess at what he said, Doctor? I’d think profiling would be right up your alley.”
“I’ve already picked her brain on this,” Grasso said, comfortable in a deck chair, scotch in hand. “She’s good.”
Ellie was sure she would be. She’d place a bet Santiago would vote that direction also.
Georgia didn’t look daunted. “I’ll take a stab, though maybe that isn’t what you should say to three homicide detectives. Let’s try this, weighing what I’ve heard: He’s affluent in background, but not very successful. Definitely athletic, probably nice-looking, but not enough to turn heads, so he can blend in and not be too memorable. He’s isn’t necessarily heterosexual, and that bothers him. How am I doing?” Georgia raised her brows.
“Pretty good. Montoya wondered also if he wasn’t more interested in Santiago than me.”
It was worth the entire evening—not to mention the canapés were delicious—to see the look on her partner’s face as he choked on his swallow of beer. “What?”
She shrugged. “He just mentioned that we might be looking at this the wrong way. Montoya thought we should consider that angle. He might be gay.”
“He isn’t calling me, he’s calling you, Ellie.”
“What better way to draw your notice than to pursue your partner?” Grasso gave his two cents. “I can buy into that. There’s a list, unfortunately, of serial killers, and some of them have been homosexual.”
“That’s just—”
“Possible,” Georgia said in her calm way. “He’s killing people. He has your attention, right?”
The subject wasn’t funny in the least, but Santiago at a loss for words twice in one night was at least a little amusing to Ellie. He finally sputtered, “What? Really? Are you serious? He threw a brick through my truck window, if it was even him. We don’t know that it was him.”
“But that definitely got your notice, right? If you were spending the night with Ellie, he could have been jealous either way.”
Crushed Page 10
