by Erin Wade
“Sure. Do you need a guided tour?”
“No, I want to commit it all to memory,” Barbie raised her brows, “and I’m pretty certain you’d be a distraction.”
Java shrugged her shoulders and turned away. The last thing she needed was to get involved with a member of her team.
Chris Canton joined Java in the bar. “I wanted to thank you for requesting me,” she said as she settled onto one of the bar stools.
“You might change your mind when you find out why,” Java smirked.
“Do tell?” The redhead hid a smile.
“You fit the description of all The Decapitator’s victims. You are the bait in our little trap.”
“Ah,” a thoughtful expression crossed Chris’s face. “I assumed the bait would be Kat.”
“Kat does seem to attract the crazies,” Java chuckled.
“Does that include you?” A smile ghosted Chris’ lip.
“We’re all crazy,” Java avoided the question. “Otherwise we’d have sane jobs instead of putting our lives on the line to catch psycho killers.”
“Why don’t you give me a quick run through of your system?” Chris nodded toward the computer used to run Java’s Place financial activities.
“All the waitresses have hand-held devices similar to mini iPads,” Java led Chris to the computer. “They enter the customer’s order as they take it and it goes to the cooks in the back and into the processor here. At any point in time you can see how many orders are working and how many orders have been filled. It keeps a running total of daily sales so you will always be able to see how business is doing.”
“Impressive,” Chris said. “Did you set this up?”
“Of course,” Java grinned.
“You’ve added a new stage and enlarged the dancefloor,” Chris noted. “As I recall, the dancefloor was half this size.”
“Yes, the band has developed a big following and you know how Kat packs them in when she’s here,” Java added. “And who knows how long this case will take. Our leads are nada.”
“With so much blood and destruction,” Chris shook her head, “one would think there’d be all kinds of evidence. I can’t believe the perp could go unnoticed covered in blood and brain matter.”
“That puzzles me too,” Java agreed as she refilled her coffee cup. “Want a cup?”
“Sure,” Chris smiled. “I remember you brew the best coffee in the South.”
“This a nice place, Java,” Barbie joined them in the bar. “How’d you manage this on an FBI salary?”
“I inherited it,” Java explained, “from my parents about five years ago. A gang robbed them three weeks in a row and they decided it was time to retire. So, they signed it over to me.”
“How many times have you been robbed?” Barbie giggled.
“Once,” Java shrugged. “The same gang made a run at my cash register.”
“What happened?” Barbie asked.
“I convinced them they didn’t really want to tangle with me,” Java grinned. “I never saw them again.”
Kat entered the establishment followed by a couple of the band members. “Mm, I love the smell of your freshly-brewed java.” She winked at Java as the blonde handed her a cup of coffee.
“Just one of the many perks of working with me,” Java laughed as Kat took a seat on a barstool.
“What’s on the agenda for today boss,” Kat asked sipping her coffee.
“I thought we’d take a drive to Rayne after you finish rehearsing with the band,” Java said. “I want to get a good look at the crime scene. Not that I think Penny missed anything. I just want to get a feel for it.”
“It’s about an hour’s drive from here,” Kat frowned. “I’d better get the band going if we’re to get there and back before we open. Give me thirty minutes of rehearsal time.”
Java watched the dark-haired woman as she sashayed toward the stage.
“Are we all going?” Chris asked.
“I think we should,” Java answered without taking her eyes off Kat.
“Let’s rehearse our new song first,” Kat instructed the band. “Let Java see if she likes it.”
Kat had the perfect voice for torch music. It could be full and throaty or soft and sensuous. Classically trained she could sing any style music but loved singing blues tunes.
The band gave her an intro and her silky voice caressed an old Julie London tune Cry Me a River. When the song ended Kat realized that she had sung it to Java. She pulled away from the blonde’s gaze and began the next number in the set.
“What did you do to her, Java?” Barbie asked.
“Nothing,” Java downed the last of her coffee and walked away.
CHAPTER 7
“Not a bad neighborhood,” Chris commented as Java stopped the car in front of a three-bedroom, wood-framed house surrounded by crime scene tape. “Well kept.”
The team sat in silence each getting a feel for the home and its former occupants. The recently edged sidewalk was still covered with bloody footprints of all sizes and the caliche drive had multiple ruts from various vehicles. The victims’ two cars were still in the attached carport. A window screen was missing from the front window and the freshly mowed grass had been trampled relentlessly.
“Wow, I’ve seen better preserved crime scenes in a cattle barn,” Barbie barked. “I’m assuming the locals let the news media have unfettered access to the scene.”
“Yeah,” Java grunted. “Penny said they were all over the place by the time she appeared on the scene. That’s how those gory film clips appeared on the late-night news shows.”
“We’re probably wasting our time with a crime scene this contaminated,” Kat frowned, “but let’s give it our best shot.”
“Kat, you and Barbie take the inside first. Chris and I will cover the outside, then switch places,” Java directed.
##
The team spent the next three hours going over the murder scene inside and out. “Anyone find anything of interest?” Java asked as she started the car.
“I’ve never seen so much blood splatter,” Chris commented. “It was almost as if the killer was furious and couldn’t stop beating them. It was on the ceiling and all the walls—a real blood bath.”
The others nodded in agreement. The ride back to the restaurant was a quiet one.
##
“Apparently the killer murdered the family then left through the front door,” Barbie noted following Java into her office. “There’s no blood on the window frame.”
“I found a button,” Kat held up a small, clear evidence bag containing a plastic button.
Java flipped through her crime folder and pulled out a photo of the voodoo doll found at the scene. “It’s similar to the buttons used for eyes on the doll,” she said holding the photo close to Kat’s button. “But the dolls have both their eyes. Maybe it came from the killer’s clothing or has a fingerprint. Let’s get it to Penny.”
A call to Penny’s cellphone resulted in a meeting at Java’s Place. “I’ll come by later tonight,” Penny agreed. “Can you lock it in your safe to preserve the integrity of the chain of evidence until I get there?”
“Sure,” Java assured her. “Kat found it and is standing right here. She’ll put it in the safe now. Oh, and plan on dinner here. On the house.”
“All set for your opening night?” Java chatted as Kat remained when the others left Java’s office.
“As set as I’ll ever be,” Kat shrugged. “How are reservations going?”
“Sold out. You really pack a house,” Java chuckled. “That’s the real reason I always insist on you working a case with me.”
Kat laughed out loud. “Is that the only reason?” She teased.
“You know the only reason,” Java said seriously.
“Umm, I thought so,” Kat cooed. “Try not to follow me around like a love-struck teenager. It’s unbecoming.”
“You’re a hard-hearted woman Kat Lace,” Java growled.
The incre
asing hum of voices reached the office. “Your public awaits,” Java tilted her head toward the club’s dining room area. “Help me keep an eye on Chris tonight. Landers is coming in later to begin flirting with her. We want word to get around that Chris is dating the black police officer.”
“Penny and you think the murders are racially motivated?” Kat frowned.
“It really looks like it,” Java said. “Who would think that much hate still exists today?”
“There you are, my little cupcake!” Déjà vu LeBlanc wrapped her strong arms around Java and squeezed.
“I can’t breathe,” the blonde squeaked as Déjà tightened her grip.
“We need to talk,” Déjà mumbled casting a wary eye toward Kat. “Right now! So, tell your pretty, little cream puff to run along. You can fool around with her later.”
Java backed away from Déjà and held up her hands to ward off the rage she could see building in Kat’s black eyes. She started to introduce the two women but decided the less they knew about one another the more likely their investigation was to succeed.
“I’ll . . .uh catch you later Kat.” Java opened the door and ushered her dream woman out of her office.
##
“She your latest squeeze?” Déjà teased.
“My personal life is none of your business,” Java glared at the dark-skinned woman. “Tell me what’s going on in the world of high priestesses?”
Déjà was tall, voluptuous, beautiful with glorious dark skin and wickedly funny.
“Nothing a little voodoo and vodka can’t cure,” Déjà laughed helping herself to Java’s liquor cabinet. “You had another murder recently. Any leads?”
“Zero,” Java dropped a pod into her Keurig, filled it with bottled water and pushed the button to start the magic that would fill her cup with fresh coffee.
“You know that stuff will kill you,” Déjà lifted her glass to toast Java.
“And vodka won’t?” Java laughed.
“Are you hearing anything on the streets?” Java inquired as Déjà settled onto the sofa.
Déjà patted the sofa beside her. “Why don’t you set your little blonde butt right here and let Déjà whisper in your ear?”
Java retrieved her coffee and relaxed beside the black beauty.
Déjà dropped her voice to a low murmur. “Word I’m hearing is your multiple murders are some kind of ritual sacrifice—a cleansing of tainted blood.”
“Seriously,” Java snorted. “If that’s the case our killer or killers will kill half of the people in America. Who even thinks like that in this day and time?”
“I’m just giving you the word on the street baby girl,” Déjà smirked. “I love this Grey Goose Vodka. Déjà would like a bottle to take home with her.”
“I might consider that,” Java chuckled, “if Déjà would tell me something I don’t already know.”
“The murders are copycat murders,” Déjà delivered her news with flair gesturing widely with her arms.
“Copycat? Déjà I’ve lived in Orleans all my life, I don’t recall anything like this.”
“Maybe they were killings before your time, sweetness.” Déjà winked. “You know the world didn’t just begin to turn when you were born. You’re just a baby. Do I get my vodka or not?”
“Of course, you do,” Java laughed. “If you want an unopened bottle, we’ll have to get it from the bar.”
“Lead the way, honey.”
As they approached the bar, Java motioned for the bartender to give Déjà her usual bottle of Grey Goose. The two stood talking as Kat approached.
“I think she likes you,” Déjà whispered.
“Humph,” Java huffed.
“Kat I’d like you to meet our local Voodoo Priestess Déjà vu LeBlanc. Déjà this is Kat Lace. Kat will be performing here for a while.”
“Open-ended contract?” Déjà raised her brows. “Until Java no longer wants you?”
Kat scanned Déjà up and down zeroing in on the bottle of vodka in Déjà’s purse. “I shudder to think what you had to do for that.”
Déjà reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of scissors holding them up for Kat to see. “Would you mind if I just snip a small piece of your glorious hair?”
“Hell, yes, I’d mind,” Kat jumped back from the grinning Déjà, spun around on her heel and stomped off.
“Well thanks for that.” Java heaved.
“I’ve found that a very effective way to end an argument is to ask the other person for a piece of their hair,” Déjà smirked.
“I’m a believer,” Java furrowed her brow wondering how she was going to explain Déjà to Kat.
CHAPTER 8
Java sat in the upstairs balcony of her supper club watching Kat sing the blues. Kat always aroused her, but she particularly made Java’s insides flutter when she smiled her impish smile and sang directly to the blonde like she was tonight.
Kat finished her set and walked between the tables smiling and greeting diners. For the first time Java noticed a flashy dresser named Jody Schooley leering at Kat. “Damn,” she whispered as she downed the last of her coffee and bounded downstairs coming to a stop behind Jody.
Jody yanked Kat down onto his lap. “Why don’t you give me a lap dance, pretty lady?” Jody drawled. “And let’s see what comes up.”
Java grabbed a hand full of Jody’s hair and yanked his head back, “Why don’t I nail your privates to the chair with this fork?” She growled in Jody’s ear as she buried the tines of the fork in the table beside Jody’s arm.
“She would, you know,” Kat hissed as she stood up from Jody’s lap straightening her dress. “You’re lucky Java intervened. I was going to kill you.”
“Get out of my club, Jody,” Java scowled at the man. “I don’t want a pimp hanging around my place.”
“Oh, come on, Java,” Jody whined. “I was just having a bit of fun. You know how I love boobs and this little lady has some real nice ones.”
“If you ever touch her again, I swear I’ll rip out your heart,” Java promised.
“She’s your woman, ain’t she?” Jody narrowed his eyes.
“No,” Java hissed. “She’s my employee and I won’t allow you or anyone else to manhandle a woman that works for me. Now get out.”
Jody stood towering over Java. “You think you can take me, little lady?”
Moving faster than imaginable, Java kicked Jody’s legs out from under him sending him crashing to the floor. She planted the heal of her boot against Jody’s Adam’s apple. “Move and I’ll crush your trachea,” Java hissed.
Two bouncers appeared from nowhere, dragged Jody to the door and tossed him into the street.
“There you go making friends and influencing people,” Chris joined Java and Kat. “You know he’ll be waiting for you at closing time.”
“Yeah,” Java grunted. “He has no idea how close he was to dying.”
“I can take care of myself,” Kat glared at Java.
“I wasn’t worried about you,” Java smirked. “I was worried about Jody. You were going to kill him, weren’t you?”
“Maybe,” Kat shrugged.
“I saved his life,” Java snapped.
CHAPTER 9
Jody Schooley sat in the bar and grill across from Java’s Place and nursed a bourbon and coke. A short man with beady black eyes, a long-pointed nose and shoulder-length blonde hair sidled up to him.
“I saw what that woman did to you in Java’s,” the man mumbled.
Jody took a slow sip from his drink and glared at the man. “So?”
“I heard her call you a pimp.” The man cleared his throat as if something were stuck in it.
Jody shrugged.
“Are you?”
“What’s it to you,” Jody snarled. “You lookin’ for some action?”
“No! No,” the man squeaked. “I’m looking for someone to take over my stable.”
“Because all you’ve got left is a barn full of old nags?” Jody question
ed.
“No, I’ve got nice looking fillies. Good producers.”
“Who are you?” Jody demanded.
“Pender. Pender Crane.”
Jody ignored the man’s outstretched hand offering a handshake. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you. Can’t say any of it was good.”
Pender smiled as if he’d just had his ten seconds of fame. “So, you know I run nice ladies?”
Jody curled his lip indifferently thinking the man looked like his name—a whooping crane. “Why you wanting to get rid of them?”
Pender moved closer to Jody and whispered. “Someone is killing them.”
“What?” Jody gasped.
“I’m pretty certain that’s what’s happening,” Pender’s eyes darted around the bar to make certain no one was listening to them
“Killing them,” Pender rasped. “Decapitating them and leaving their heads all over Louisiana and Texas.”
“The case the cops are so worked up about,” Jody queried. “Those are your ladies?”
“Yeah,” Pender released a deep breath. “I got a call from some dude who wanted my finest. Said he’d pay two thousand for one night with her. He paid through PayPal. I sent her to the address and I never saw her again.
“When I learned she never returned from the job I went looking for her. The address was an empty house in a nice part of town.”
“How do you know it’s empty?” Jody asked.
“I walked around back and looked in through the windows. It had no furniture in it.
“At first I thought my girl had taken her money and run,” Jody continued. “I knew she wanted out, so I didn’t think anything about it.
“A couple of days later the same dude calls for another girl. Same scenario, he pays on PayPal and my girl disappears.”
“And you sent him two more girls knowing they would disappear?” Jody growled. “You weren’t selling the girls as prostitutes you were selling them to be murdered.”
“I . . . didn’t know that for sure!” Pender sniveled. “Then I received a call requesting another girl and I told him I didn’t have any. He said to send him a girl or he’d do to me what he’d done to the ladies.
