Daddy's Little Killer

by LS Sygnet

  "But it did."

  "Big time," Forsythe nodded. "Do you mind if I get my team in here to start processing?"

  "Be my guest," I'd seen enough anyway. Until I could talk to the people who knew the victim, if we were able to quickly verify her identity, there wasn't much I could provide other than initial impressions of the crime scene. It looked too neat to be less than staged. In other words, someone straightened up after the deed was done. I couldn't imagine someone being passive during a murder. This woman probably fought for her life. Whoever took it wanted the setting to appear otherwise. "I think I'll head over to my hotel and check in," mumbled around a yawn.

  "You might want to have a word with Orion before you go."

  Or I might never want to lay eyes on him again. I was pretty sure my way was rooted in logic and reality. Forsythe had no way of knowing that. "Because?"

  "If you can develop a rapport with him, which I suspect you can, he'll be far more forthcoming about the Bennett case than anyone at central. Plus, there's the other obvious factor."

  I waited.

  "He probably knows the identity of the victim. If he was meeting her in her home tonight, he might be able to fill in the blanks for you about who she is and what possible reason anyone might've had to kill her."

  "She could be his girlfriend."

  Forsythe chuckled. "Johnny Orion doesn't have girlfriends. He has one night stands."

  There was my old friend humiliation, rearing its ugly head again. "That doesn't preclude this being a one night stand," I said.

  "You won't know until you ask."

  Just the same, I'd rather have white-hot needles driven into my brain. I smiled wanly. "Perhaps tomorrow. I'm jet lagged, Forsythe. My flight landed at midnight, so my body is screaming about being up in the middle of the night. Orion's not going anywhere, especially if he's the prime suspect."

  "That won't establish rapport with the guy," he disagreed with a quick shake of the head. "Don't kid yourself, Eriksson. Johnny Orion is no fool. He was a shrewd cop and a tough one too. He'll know if you're going along with the flow at central or if you really want to get to the truth. He'll know based on what you do next."

  "Why would I care what a potential suspect thinks of me?" I imagined a rift dividing Darkwater Bay into separate camps – those who supported Orion, those who blamed Datello for everything. Did anyone really expect me to bridge the gap?

  "Because what Orion thinks in this city matters to a lot of people."

  "Including Danny Datello?"

  Forsythe's face hardened. "He'd probably shoot you on sight if you accused such a thing."

  "Interesting."

  "Not really. Nobody in law enforcement likes Datello. Unfortunately, nobody's ever been able to build a successful case against him."

  "Not even Johnny Orion?"

  "I suspect he hasn't given up the cause."

  Even more interesting. "And what official capacity does he hold out here? I thought Briscoe said he left the police department under a cloud of suspicion."

  "Johnny's a private contractor now, in security. It doesn't mean he wouldn't take evidence of a crime to the DA if he found it."

  Score again for Orion. So far, his big lie was the identity. Why do that? Not that I had a right to question his motives. I hadn't been particularly forthcoming myself. "Maybe I'll have a chat with him tomorrow after he's processed by whoever gets this case."

  "Do you think that's wise?"

  "Why wouldn't it be?"

  "Rogers, Daltry and Myre would love nothing better than to close this case tonight and charge him with murder. They hate him almost as much as cops hate Datello. As for Downey," Forsythe snorted, "I got nothing against Tony Briscoe and Crevan Conall, but in this case, they happen to be your prime suspect's best friends."

  Shit. Truth number three. "I never said he was or should be the prime suspect. Person of interest would be more accurate at this point." Given Orion's history of lying – to me in particular – I doubted he would be inclined to talk to me at all. My conscience reminded me that I had done more creative editing of the life story than Orion had. All he lied about was his name. I on the other hand, had been far more deceptive.

  Chapter 7

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped out of the house. Orion was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he had shifted his ability to charm to his former brethren and convinced them to let him go. Briscoe was still engaged in a neck vein popping argument on the front lawn. I hadn't seen Conall since the rental agency.

  Through the pockets of fog and flashing lights, I caught a glimpse of him beside one of the patrol cars. One hand propped on his hip, the other raked through his hair and took a wild swipe in the direction of the car.

  The plan was to slip as quietly as possible back to my rental. I forgot about Detective Pigpen guarding the door. His withered fingers snaked around my wrist. "Where you goin', Eriksson?"

  It didn't take much to break the feeble grasp. "To my hotel, not that it's any of your concern. I'll meet with Commissioner Hardy later this morning and give him my assessment."

  Myre snapped his fingers. "Just like that, you think you got this whole thing figured out? Well, you're too late, doctor. Central already solved this one."

  As a general rule, I try not to make snap judgments of others. You never know when someone will be an unexpected ally. Alienation slams that door shut. Regarding Myre and his lackadaisical posture at a horrific crime scene stripped away any desire to keep doors open. Curiosity prompted my response. "And just who committed the crime inside, Myre?"

  "The perp in the back of Haverston's car." He jerked his head in the direction of uniformed officers and Detective Conall. "Johnny Orion. We finally got the bastard after all these years."

  So much for my relief. I walked to the vehicle where the so-called perp was being held.

  "Detective Conall, what's the status of the prisoner?"

  One of the uniformed officers shot Conall a smug grin at my question, as if I had validated his actions somehow.

  "Beyond wrongly accused?"

  Again, Conall's eyes screamed something just out of the reach of tangibility. Under other circumstances, such creepy stares would make me wonder if the irate detective was hitting on me. But this didn't even come close to that vibe. It made my skin crawl. Did I know him from somewhere? Not even a glimmer of recognition flashed.

  "Yes, I'm listening, detective," the lie rolled easily past my lips. I turned my attention to the officer. Name badge read Haverston. "Officer Haverston, did you read Mr. Orion his rights?"

  "Yep. He said he doesn't have anything to say until he gets his attorney."

  "He'll talk to me." I yanked the back door of the car open and slid inside.

  Orion's head was in his hands, cuffed together at the wrists. He looked sideways and groaned.

  "We meet again, Todd."

  "Why were those men trying to abduct you, Helen?"

  "I prefer doctor if you don't mind." I didn't, but we'd already established a pattern of lying. I saw no reason to break it. "And in case you're curious why I'm here, I need to ask you a few questions about the body inside that house."

  "And I asked for a lawyer."

  "Cut the crap, Orion. When did you get back to Darkwater Bay? For that matter, when did you really leave Washington D.C.?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "Depending on the victim's time of death, it could be the difference between your alibi passing muster and this charge sticking. Geez, all I've heard from your pals is what a great cop you were. I'm not seeing that so far."

  "Screw you."

  "Missed your chance last night."

  "Diana Farber, who is she?"

  "A figment of my imagination. It shouldn't be so difficult for you to grasp the concept that psychologists rather enjoy games, Orion. That's all you were."

  "Those would-be kidnappers weren't playing games, were they?"

  "Probably not. Then again, I'd imagine I've pissed o
ff more than my fair share of criminals over the past decade. That dead body in there isn't about me. Fifty percent of the people at this crime scene think she got in her current condition with a little help from you."

  "I have nothing to say."

  "Personally, I think it's an astounding coincidence that you found a body in the same condition more or less, as your most infamously botched investigation. Then again, Daddy always taught me that there's no such thing as a coincidence."

  "I would never harm Gwen or any other woman!"

  A tiny smile quivered at the corners of my lips. "First name Gwen. Now we're getting somewhere. Doesn't Gwen deserve justice for what happened to her, Mr. Orion?"

  "She'll never get it from Darkwater Bay PD."

  "Not even from your pals Briscoe and Conall? Briscoe, he was the mentor you mentioned last night, wasn't he? Is his partner Conall your best friend?"

  "I have nothing to say."

  "Bullshit. Level with me, Orion. What were you really doing in D.C. this week? Don't expect me to believe that incident at the Ritz wasn't arranged by you to give you an easy in with me. Did Hardy send you to follow me? Are you working for Datello?"

  "What?" Orion snarled. His wrists strained against the cuffs, and for a second, I felt a pang of anxiety that they'd snap. "I hate that piece of shit!"

  "Which one, Hardy or Datello?"

  "I wouldn't walk across the road to piss on Datello if he were on fire."

  "How did you get here before I did?"

  Orion masked his anger with a smirk, but his eyes still glittered in the semidarkness. "Nothing to say to you. Cop." He spat the word like an epithet.

  At least he didn't call me a fed. "What's Gwen's last name? You know how this works, I presume. If we're going to figure out who was the most likely suspect to commit the crime, I need to know about the victim. Her name would be a step in the right direction."

  "Foster," through tight lips.

  "And was she the kind of friend you wanted Diana to be last night?"

  Veins in his neck bulged. "No," came out clipped and terse.

  "Client then?"

  "I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to."

  "There's no such thing as security guard-client confidentiality, Orion. Why were you standing me up in Washington to be here with Gwen tonight?"

  "Emergency meeting."

  "And the nature of your business with this client was what, exactly?"

  "Gwen was not my client. She was an old friend."

  "How old?"

  "Thirty-four."

  I laughed softly. "If that's old, I'm downright geriatric, Mr. Orion. Tell me, did you plan to let me know that you weren't going to be around to play hero for me tonight?"

  His eyebrows stitched together. "Did you plan to tell me you weren't gonna be in town, Doc?"

  "Don't call me Doc."

  "Did you?"

  "Perhaps I tried to leave you a message when I left town."

  "You didn't."

  "No," I said. "Nor did you. Why did you skip the last day of your conference to rush home?"

  "Legitimate work trumps rubbing elbows with my competitors. Hell, you were there when I got the call."

  "Yet it didn't seem quite this urgent when you got it, did it, Orion? You obviously learned that something was wrong. Why won't you tell me what time you arrived in Darkwater Bay tonight? It could mean the difference between spending the night in a warm bed versus one downtown in lockup."

  His lips curled into a sneering grin. "Is that an invitation to join you, Doc?"

  "Sorry. I never make the same mistake twice. Tell me when you got back to Darkwater Bay."

  "Late this afternoon," he sighed heavily. "Yes, it was business. Yes, it was related to the call I got when Todd was wooing Diana last night. No, I won't divulge the details of the case or the phone call, nor will I explain why I was meeting Gwen tonight. If you want my alibi for the time between when I arrived home until I found Gwen's body, ask Crevan. We had dinner together tonight before I came over here."

  "What was your flight number and the airline?"

  "Northwest, flight 21. It arrived at four-fifty. I met Crevan for dinner at the Island Hotel Resort and Casino on Hennessey Island at seven."

  "Two hours between flight and dinner? That's a lot of time, Orion."

  "What time did your flight land, Doc, and how fast did you get through the airport, claim your luggage and get to your car?"

  He made a point.

  "Add to that rush hour traffic, which even on a Tuesday night is pretty heavy, and two hours gets devoured pretty quick."

  "I'll need Crevan's last name." I'm not sure why, but I felt the need to dare him to lie to me again.

  "No you don't," Orion chuckled. "You already figured it out, Doc. Crevan Conall, one of the detectives who brought you here tonight, had dinner with me at seven."

  "When did you leave the restaurant?"

  "Eight forty-five."

  "And from there?"

  "Straight here," Orion said. "Gwen and I were meeting at nine-thirty."

  "And what happened when you arrived?"

  "The lights were out. I figured she was running late." His voice hardened and tension radiated from his pores. "So I used my key and let myself in the house. That was when I found her."

  "You have keys to all your friend's houses?"

  Orion clamped his mouth shut.

  "I'm afraid we'll have to confiscate that key, Mr. Orion. The crime scene must be secured."

  "Do I get to leave now?"

  "We'll have to verify your alibi first." I slid out of the car before he could comment further. The cell I brought from D.C., gave me access to Northwest's website and I was easily able to confirm that flight 21 did land at four fifty-two Tuesday afternoon. That didn't mean Orion was on the flight. Someone from the police department would have to verify that. I had no legal authority to do anything at the moment.

  "Detective Conall?"

  He stepped around the car. "How is he?"

  "Pissed."

  "I can't blame him. I told Haverston that he's been out of town at a convention for the past few days, that we met for dinner tonight out on the island after his flight got in. He won't believe me, says he can't let Johnny leave until Chief Lowe authorizes it."

  "That's bullshit," I agreed. True enough, the information needed to be confirmed by more than Orion's best friend, but that could easily be done without arresting Orion. Gaining his cooperation seemed to be exactly what Forsythe predicted it would be. I beckoned to Haverston with a crooked finger.

  He rushed toward me.

  "Could you do something for me, officer?"

  "Name it," he grinned.

  "I need you to contact Northwest Airlines and get the passenger list for a flight that landed Tuesday afternoon, flight 21. See if Orion was a passenger. Who are the other officers milling around here?"

  "Taylor, Adams, Thieg. You got something for them too?"

  I stepped closer to Haverston and laid one hand on his arm, effectively cutting Conall out of the conversation. "Both Orion and Conall are claiming that they had dinner together at some casino out on Hennessey Island. Ideally, we should verify that alibi before cutting Orion loose."

  "But we can't –"

  "Officer, we don't have cause to hold Orion simply because he found the victim. Does it make him a person of interest? Absolutely. But my experience at the FBI tells me that if we confirm his alibi, we'll build enough rapport with him that when a stronger case based on hard evidence is built, he won't be so reluctant to cooperate. That's how you catch someone with experience in law enforcement. If Orion is the perp in this case, you've gotta realize that he's at least ten steps ahead of where we are right now. If we try to charge him before we have a solid case, we run the risk of shooting ourselves in the foot. You get where I'm going with this?"

  "I'll have the guys go out to Hennessey Island right away," Haverston said. "And we'll get that passenger list before you leave the scene
."

  I hoped that would be in about thirty seconds. Apparently not. "You should also have someone start taking statements from our audience." I cast a sidelong glance at several neighbors out on their lawns in robes and slippers. "You never know if one of them saw something that could provide leads in this case."

  "What about Orion?"

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the van from the medical examiner's office arrive. "Let me talk to Dr. Winslow. The sooner she can give us an estimate on time of death, the sooner we'll know if Orion's alibi even applies to the window we're looking at for the commission of this crime."

  "Right. We're on it, Dr. Eriksson."

  "You're having them verify the alibi I provided?" Conall hissed incredulous words into my ear.

  I turned into the angry blast. Sea green sparks arced in his eyes for a moment before he took a quick step backward.

  "It's par for the course in a murder investigation, detective. If you don't like it, perhaps you should consider narrowing your circle of friends. Your word alone isn't enough to give Orion an alibi for the evening. Now if you'll excuse me, I see an old colleague I'd like to talk to before she gets too busy to answer a few questions."

  Chapter 8

  Maya Winslow stopped dead in her tracks and stared for a moment. She shook her head lightly and rubbed her eyes. "I don't believe it."

  "Nice to see you too, Dr. Winslow."

  "Jesus Christ and General Jackson. Who called the feds in on this one? Not that I'm complaining or anything. I'm … stunned. How are you, Eriksson?"

  People don't really want the truth when they ask that question. It's a social nicety. Look at me. I care enough to ask how you are. Do me a favor and lie. Say "fine" or some other placating nonsense. I really don't want to get sucked into your world.

  As a different breed, I grinned at her. "Same shit, different day. How did you end up in Darkwater Bay?"

  "Power," she slammed the back door of the van and gave a stern look to her techs. "Don't touch anything until I get inside. Got it?" I noticed that she added a wink after the harsh order.

  "You're in charge out here?"