“I’m going to fucking puke, Adrian.” I wasn’t lying either. That sausage biscuit I got from the golden arches drive-thru was about to come back up. What did this fucker do to women? Had he planned to do this to my Maegan?
“That makes two of us,” Adrian said. He pointed to the laptop sitting next to the bed. “I’d rather you shove rusty nails under my fingernails than make me look at the content on the computer.” There are things and images so vile and sick that no amount of experience on the force can prepare you to see.
“We have to do it,” I said.
“Let me do this for you, partner.” Normally, I would not have backed down, but I couldn’t handle seeing anything about Maegan on that fucking creep’s laptop.
I nodded my head and went into the living room to search the entertainment center. I pulled out one video after the other depicting sex crimes involving women on the covers. The titles were written crudely in black marker. How did anyone become so fucking sick? It didn’t take long for Adrian to join me with the laptop tucked under his arm.
“Well? Did you have any luck finding our two blonde vigilantes?”
“I lost track of the number of blonde women I saw on his hard drive. This was one sick fucker,” Adrian said with dread. “Um, his recent search engine activity did revolve around Maegan. It looked like he was trying to learn everything about her, but I couldn’t find any type of journal that he used to detail his sick-as-fuck activities or the plan he had for her. There were plenty of photos of him with other women though.”
“So this person did save Maegan’s life by taking Renzo’s?” I asked.
“I’d say yes.” Adrian looked at the videos I pulled from the shelves and photographed them. “Jesus. Are those home movies?”
“I think so, but I can’t be sure if they’re his or something he bought.”
Dennis and Young were just as sickened as we were, but all we could do was bag the evidence and remove it from site. It was almost lunchtime when we arrived at Renzo’s employer.
The CEO and head of human resources for the small company met with us personally. “Thank you for taking time to meet with us, Mr. Titus and Ms. James,” I said.
“We want to help you in any way we can. We were shocked to hear that Thom had been killed so violently,” the CEO said. He gestured to the file on his desk before he pushed it across to me. “Here’s Mr. Renzo’s personnel file and Ms. James is prepared to answer your questions.”
“Is this ours to take?” Adrian asked.
“Absolutely,” Mr. Titus said. “Ms. James is available to answer any questions that arise later also.”
“Yes,” Ms. James said nervously. “I’ll do what I can.”
I narrowed my eyes and studied her body language. She sat straight and tall in her chair, exuding confidence, but her fidgeting hands and inability to maintain eye contact gave away how nervous she truly was. I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but the CEO was making things too easy. I started to suspect that the personnel file was a ruse on his part to cover something up. Smoke and mirrors. Look to the left so you don’t see what I’m doing on the right.
“This is his complete file? It contains any and all complaints brought against him or disciplinary actions he received?” I asked Ms. James, but she wasn’t the one who answered.
“Of course, Detective,” Titus said, emphasizing his Southern boy hospitality.
I shifted my eyes to him and said, “Thank you, sir, but I wasn’t asking you.”
“Is this everything, Ms. James?” I asked more firmly.
“We need your help, ma’am,” Adrian added, falling into the good cop role like he did when the captain had been his partner.
“Yes, I believe so,” she said softly. She slowly raised her head and locked her gaze on mine. I knew she was lying when I saw the terror and shame in her blue eyes. I think she wanted to help us, but was afraid to do it. I didn’t want to be a dick, but her losing her job was the last thing on my mind.
“The sexual harassment allegations that were filed against him are in this file then? Including the name of the employees who filed them?” I asked. I was completely shooting from the hip, but the way she flinched told me that I’d hit a bullseye.
“There were no harassment allegations made against Mr. Renzo, Detective. I’m not sure what you’re talking…”
“Do not lie to me or I’ll make things really ugly for your company, Mr. Titus. I want to know the name of the woman, or women, who filed complaints against Mr. Titus. I want you to start with ones who no longer work here.”
Ms. James pulled out a sheet of paper from her briefcase and slid it to me. “Here’s all of them.”
“All of them?” I asked. “How many complaints of sexual harassment does it take to get a guy fired?”
“More than ten,” she said. “I wanted to fire that slimy asshole, but Mr. Titus wouldn’t let me. My hands were tied.”
“Yeah, so were the ladies that he sexually assaulted.” I looked at the names on the paper and my heart broke for them. “Which one was the most outspoken about the ordeal?” We would interview them all, but I’d start with the one who seemed boldest in her attempt to get justice.
“Kayla Hanson,” Ms. James stated. “Well, her sister Jessica, that is.”
“Her sister?” Adrian asked. I was sure he was thinking the same thing I was.
“Her name isn’t on this list,” I said.
“Kayla didn’t show up for work for a few days. I called her, but she never returned my call. Her sister finally retrieved the messages from her cell phone and called me. She explained that Kayla had been drugged and sexually assaulted. Kayla had refused to name her assailant after the police officer who responded seemed to blow her off. Asking questions about how much she had to drink or what she wore, as if either of those things made a difference.”
“If Kayla didn’t name her attacker then how did you know it was Thom?”
“She didn’t tell the police, but she told her sister. Someone”—she tipped her head toward Mr. Titus—“wouldn’t allow me to enter the complaint in Thom’s file because Kayla herself didn’t make it.”
“Now wait a minute—”
I raised my hand to cut him off. “I’m not interested in hearing your excuses. I suggest you save it for your attorney.” I turned back to Ms. James.
“How recently was Kayla’s assault?” I asked.
“A month ago, maybe six weeks.”
“So, he’s escalating his attacks,” Adrian said as he looked over the list of complaints and the dates they were filed against Renzo. “Do any of these women still work here?”
“No, but their contact info is on the sheet. Listen, Kayla has been a real mess since the incident. You might want to talk to Jessica first to arrange a time to speak with Kayla. I know where she works. We’ve become good friends.” If Ms. James had blonde hair, I might’ve suspected that she was Jessica’s accomplice.
“Where is that?”
Ms. James gave us the information we requested and we headed straight over to her office. The receptionist working the front desk looked at us in alarm but buzzed us in and told us how to navigate the maze of cubicles to find Jessica Hansen.
Jessica was the office manager and was afforded a small office in the back. The room was standard industrial white walls with beige commercial carpet and missing its sole occupant. The receptionist assured us that Jessica had just returned from lunch, so maybe she’d gone to the bathroom. It gave me the opportunity to learn a little about my prime suspect. The office was too small for all four of us to stand in, so the Kentucky patrolmen stood outside while Adrian and I entered.
The room was devoid of any character until you took in the potted blooming cactus plant and framed photos of two blonde women posing for selfies. Nothing about her office proved that she was my killer until I saw her Hellcat mousepad and an image of Captain Marvel as the wallpaper on her computer.
I looked toward the doorway when I heard
someone approaching the office quickly.
“Hello, Officers,” she said, greeting Dennis and Young. Jessica Hansen didn’t even flinch when she stepped into her office and spotted Adrian and me. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t that surprised. It was almost as if she expected us.
“Ms. James called you, didn’t she?”
Jessica didn’t so much as blink. Nothing in her posture or her expression gave her away. Suddenly, she released a long sigh and swallowed hard. I was certain that I was looking into the eyes of Renzo’s killer. She had saved Maegan from a horrifying fate, and I wanted to hug her. Instead, I said, “Jessica Hansen, you’re under arrest for the murder of Thom Renzo.”
She turned around and peacefully placed her hands behind her back for me to cuff. “It’s okay. I have no regrets.” I was pretty sure she was trying to make me feel better, but nothing about the situation felt right.
“You shouldn’t say anything until your attorney is present,” Adrian said.
“You haven’t read me my rights, so nothing I’ve said so far can be used against me.”
I thought it was quite possible that she would be acquitted of her crimes before a jury of her peers.
Adrian read her rights to her as we guided her out of the building and put her in the back of Adrian’s car.
“I acted alone, Detectives,” she said once he pulled out of the parking lot.
Adrian and I both knew different, but proving it might be difficult if we wanted to.
“TELL US EVERYTHING AND DON’T leave anything out,” Vanessa said when I walked into her house for Margarita Monday.
“Well, Amanda stopped by my shop yesterday. It sounds like congratulations are in order, Auntie Vanessa.”
“Oh no!” Vanessa reached for my hand. “Did she go in there and start trouble with you? I’d hate to smack a pregnant lady, but—”
I cut her off with a wave. “Thank you, but it’s not necessary. I think her goal was to rile me up, but she either gave up when she realized it wouldn’t work, or finding out she’s about to be a mom has softened her.” I smiled when I thought about the amount of money she spent on the chair, ottoman, silver tray, and tea set. I definitely came out the winner after that battle.
“I’m glad to hear that Amanda can’t upset you anymore, but that’s not the everything that Vanessa was talking about. We want to know all about the new sexy man in your life.”
“How do you know he’s sexy?” Violet asked her.
“I’m a lesbian, Vi, not blind.” April rolled her eyes. “Just because I’m not attracted to guys doesn’t mean that I don’t recognize a sexy man when presented with one. Elijah is pure sex on a stick.”
I hung up my coat and headed to the kitchen where I knew a margarita pitcher awaited me. I breathed the delicious, spicy aroma of Latin food baking in the oven and fought the urge to lift the lids off the pots on top of the stove to see what she had whipped up for us. Vanessa followed me into the kitchen and poured me a drink.
“Mmmmm,” I said after a long drink. “Peach.”
“It’s your favorite,” Van said. “I figured you could use it after the crazy time you’ve had. Are you really okay?” I’d be rich and could retire if I had a penny for every time someone asked me that the past two weeks.
I helped myself to the chips and salsa Vanessa had laid out for us to munch on before dinner. She waited patiently while I ate a few and washed it down with another drink. “I’m so hungry,” I told her. “The shop was a zoo again today and there was no way that Bonnie could keep up with them on her own, so my lunch consisted of peanut butter crackers and Diet Coke.” I looked at the large clock on the kitchen wall. “That was six hours ago.” Trust me, I was glad the day went by fast so that I didn’t have to worry about what Elijah was doing in Kentucky, but a proper lunchtime would’ve been nice.
“Let me get you something with a little more substance,” Vanessa offered.
“It’s not necessary,” I told her. I didn’t want her to go to any trouble.
“Maegan, you hate feeling buzzed and you’ve never been drunk. Let me grab you some cheese and fruit to help absorb some of the alcohol until the enchiladas, Spanish rice, and refried beans are ready in ten minutes.” She pulled out a block of cheese and fruit from the refrigerator.
Van was right; I loved the taste of a mixed drink but not the side effects. I could already feel my face getting warm and that fuzzy feeling creeping in around the edges of my mind. My inner control freak started to panic, so I reached for a chunk of cheese.
“Delicious,” I said.
Van pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and placed it in front of me. She’d be the last person to admit how much she loved to nurture, but it was ingrained in her DNA. “Smoked gouda; it’s silky and smooth.” She tipped her head to the side and studied me.
April, Candace, and Violet entered the kitchen and poured themselves a margarita.
“What’d we miss?” April asked.
“Wait for us! We want to hear all about the sex too!” Violet exclaimed.
“No sex talk yet,” Vanessa said. “I was just asking if she was really okay.”
“I’m fine, Van. Really. Yeah, parts of the last two weeks have sucked”—all three of them snorted—“but other parts were…” My voice trailed off as I struggled to find the words.
“Orgasmic,” April suggested
“Earth shattering,” Violet added.
“Surreal,” I told them. “I’m not going to give you gals the down-and-dirty details of what’s been going on between Elijah and me.” We weren’t high school kids and Vanessa’s kitchen wasn’t the locker room. What I shared with Elijah was too special to cheapen by bawdy shop talk.
“So you’re admitting that there’s something going on?” Candace pressed.
“Of course, something is going on,” I answered her.
“Something truly special from the looks of it,” Violet said, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
They were so disappointed that I wasn’t going to give them a byplay of every orgasm Elijah gave me. A smile spread across my face when I realized I had lost count.
“Oh, would you look at that face,” April said. “She’s thinking about the orgasms she refuses to discuss. Lucky bitch.”
“I spent quite a bit of time with Marley Kasey this weekend,” I said to April, deciding that a change in narrative was in order.
“Oh, really,” Vanessa said. “She’s so lovely. Don’t you think she’s lovely, April?”
“Just because she’s the only other gay woman in town doesn’t mean that we’re destined to be together,” April said.
“How often do you tell yourself that?” I asked her.
“Every day that I look in the mirror,” April admitted before she knocked back the rest of her drink in one gulp. She sounded miserable and I hated that for her. “Whoa!” She blinked a few times and set her glass back down with an indelicate thunk. She reached over and snagged a chunk of cheese off my plate.
“Hey! That’s my cheese.”
“Sorry,” she said around a mouthful of smooth, smoky goodness. “God, I feel much better now. All tingly inside.” I slid my plate over to share my cheese with April. I didn’t want her to get too tingly, too fast.
“Why does Maegan get fancy cheese and fruit when the rest of us only get chips and salsa?” Violet asked. “The chips aren’t even warm.”
“This isn’t a restaurant,” Vanessa said. “I don’t warm up my tortilla chips.”
“Well, it’s the least you can do if you’re going to withhold the good cheese. I always knew that Maegan was your favorite,” Candace told Van.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Vanessa said, her lips quirked up into a wry smile. She began slicing off more cheese for April, Candace, and Violet. “Who said that I liked any of you?”
“You love us,” April said, sounding tipsier by the minute.
“I do,” Vanessa agreed.
“Oh!” Candace exc
laimed. “I bet Maegan is the first of us to get married.” Cut her off, bartender.
“Huh?” How’d we go from Vanessa loving us to me getting married? That was a big leap.
“Oh! I’ll take that bet,” Van said. “Twenty bucks says Maegan gets married first.”
“That’s not much of a bet,” April hemmed.
“Fifty then!” Vanessa said.
“Not the dollar amount, silly,” Candace told our host. “The point of a bet is to settle a disagreement between two or more people. No one here is disputing that Maegan is now most likely to get married first.”
“Oh! You have a good point,” Violet said. “We need to do a pool like they do when they guess the weight and inches of a newborn baby or predict the outcome of football games. Yeah, that’s it!”
“Where’s a notepad, Van?” Candace asked. Vanessa reached inside a kitchen drawer and pulled out a notebook and pen.
“We need to write it down. Everyone commits to twenty dollars and the one closest to Mae’s actual wedding date gets all the money. One of us is going to win one hundred dollars!” April exclaimed.
“Where do you get that?” I asked. Hell, I hadn’t consumed so much alcohol that I couldn’t figure her winnings were skewed.
“There are five of us,” April said.
“You think I’m entering?” I asked, trying to hold back my laugh.
Candace snorted.
“Eighty then,” Violet said, nodding her head. “I can buy a lot of books for that money.”
“Try sixty,” Candace corrected, shaking her head. “You’ll get your twenty dollars back and an additional twenty from three other people. I wouldn’t count your own cash as earnings.”
“Must you be in CPA mode all the time, Candy Apple?” Violet asked.
“Really,” April agreed. “So I was off a few bucks.”
I raised my brow at Candace, but she just shook her head. “Okay, who wants what date?” she asked once she opened the notebook and poised her pen over a blank page.
“May twenty-fifth,” April announced.
The Lady is a Thief (The Lady is Mine Book 1) Page 20
