by Erin Wade
“I’m going to measure and shoot these bloody footprints too,” Chris commented. “I’m sure your people did that, but just to be safe.”
Trilton Joe verified Chris’ work then they entered the house.
“God, I hate that smell,” Trilton Joe gagged as he pulled a small tin of Vicks from his pocket and stuck the jelly up each nostril.
“Um, you do know that only opens your sinuses and enhances your ability to smell odors,” Kat pointed out.
He inhaled deeply then ran out the door. “He’s puking on the sidewalk,” Barbie informed the others.
“If he weren’t such a good ole’ boy I’d video it and put in on the Forensic Investigation’s Gone Bad Facebook page,” Chris laughed.
Standing where Trilton Joe had left them, the four looked around the room. “Same blood and gore,” Barbie commented.
“It’s as if this guy gets off on a bloodbath,” Java thought out loud. “I wish we’d gotten here in time to see the bodies. I need Penny to see if she can pinpoint the order in which the victims are killed.”
“How will that help?” Barbie asked.
“I bet the more he kills the more excited and vicious he gets,” Java theorized. “These are thrill killings.”
“God, I hope not,” Kat shuddered.
“What does that mean?” Barbie encouraged her mentors to keep talking.
“It means the killings will escalate,” Kat shivered. “Each killing excites him more than the last until all he wants to do is kill and kill again.”
Trilton Joe entered the house wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. “You’re standing right where I left you,” he gagged again.
“We can’t proceed without your presence,” Java informed him. “We need your validation on anything we do or find.”
Trilton Joe dragged his jacket sleeve across his nose and shook his head. “Okay, go ahead.”
Java kicked the footboard of the bed scattering the hoard of flies covering the dried blood on the mattress stirring up the foul odor even more. “Your forensic people didn’t take the mattresses?” She questioned.
“I guess not,” Trilton Joe shrugged.
Java pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. She wondered how some departments ever solved a case.
Bloody footprints of various sizes and fresh cigarette butts doused in the pooled blood told her any evidence still at the scene would be tainted.
“There’s nothing here,” Java barked. “Let’s go.”
“I’d like to walk through the house,” Kat said.
“Why not?” Java sighed. “Everyone else in the world has.”
They followed the brunette from the master bedroom to two other bedrooms. The vast amounts of blood and the trail of gore from the children’s rooms to the master bedroom confirmed they had been murdered and carried to their parent’s room.
“Is that a coin?” Kat gestured toward a round object covered in blood.
Java crouched and picked up the object. “A button.” She held it up so everyone could see it. “It looks like the one we found at the last crime scene.”
Kat opened an evidence envelope and Java dropped the button into it. “Java, there’s a piece of thread or string there too.”
The agent grasped the slimy red string and dropped it into another envelope Kat held open for her.
They walked into the bathrooms and kitchen looking under all the sinks.
“What are you looking for?” Trilton Joe asked.
“Y’all didn’t take the P-traps,” Java glowered. “The killer may have washed his hands and left some evidence.”
“You know, I’m beginning to feel very embarrassed over the way our forensics folks handled this scene.” Trilton Joe apologized.
“Um,” Java hummed. “We’re going to have dinner and catch the late flight back to Orleans. I think we’ve accomplished everything we can here.”
CHAPTER 20
Their Monday morning meeting with Karen Pierce was anything but a happy one. Budro Latour’s attorney had produced two witnesses who swore the man was with them the night of the Valentine’s murders.
“Dammit,” Java said under her breath as Karen informed them of the latest twist to their case.
Beau and Penny joined the five FBI agents and listened as Karen discussed alternatives.
“If we release him,” Java argued, “he’ll beat the hell out of his kids. They testified against him. We have their testimonies and blood evidence.”
“Both his children have recanted their testimonies,” Karen shook her head.
“What about his overalls?” Java asked.
“He swears he has no idea how the blood got on them. He does admit having sex with his daughter but says he wasn’t wearing those clothes. “
“Of course, he was,” Java insisted. “Her clothes were covered in the crime scene blood and his semen. How reputable are the guys alibiing him?”
“One of them is the foreman at the shipyards. The other is a fellow worker,” Karen answered.
“I’m afraid it gets worse,” Penny interrupted. “The button and string you found at the San Antonio murders match the string and button from the Lafayette murders. It’s the same guy.”
“What about the fingerprints?” Kat asked.
“No match in IAFIS,” Penny answered. “Latour’s fingerprints are in the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System. The prints were close on a few points but they’re definitely not Latour’s prints.”
“I promised that girl we’d protect her,” Java exhaled slowly. “When did she recant? After the attorney dredged up the two alibis?”
“Yes,” Karen said softly.
“When she realized we’d release him and he’d kill her if she didn’t,” Java exploded. “How long can we hold him?”
“A week, maybe two,” Karen said. “We can drag our feet process the attorney’s request that charges be dropped.”
“Two weeks,” Java shook her head, “and we have no more to go on than we did three months ago. He’s murdered a family a month and we’re . . . We got nothing.”
“I hate to heap on top of the dung pile,” Beau interjected, “but we got another bodiless head while you were in San Antonio.”
“Please tell me it was in San Antonio too,” Java pleaded.
“Nope. Right here in our own backyard,” Beau shrugged. “Found her head in an ally off Canal.”
“You got pictures?” Chris asked.
“Yeah,” Beau plugged his thumb drive into Karen’s laptop and flashed the head of a pretty bleached blonde woman onto the whiteboard.
“Isn’t she the girl Jody Schooley had at Java’s Place on Valentine’s Day?” Chris moved to get a better angle on the picture.
“Yes, it is,” Kat added. “Not a redhead like his other victims. Looks like The Decapitator is expanding his victims base.”
“I’ll pick up Schooley,” Beau said.
“Can you put a tail on him for a few days?” Java asked. “Let’s see what he’s up to before we let him know we suspect him.”
Java dragged her hand down her face. “Looks like we’re back to square one, team. Let’s go eat lunch and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”
##
Jody Schooley was in the bar at Java’s Place when the four women walked in. His eyes followed Kat as she stepped into the elevator that would take her to balcony dining. Her blonde watchdog followed her. A few minutes later Penny and Beau followed them.
Jody’s phone rang and he recognized the number of the gravelly voiced PayPal customer that was willing to pay any amount for the woman he wanted. Jody shuddered and didn’t answer the call. The client had requested Lilly and now she had disappeared.
Jody thought about filing a missing person’s report but knew the authorities would want to know what he was to Lilly and then the crap would hit the fan.
He wasn’t worried. He was phasing out the girls he’d inherited from Pender Crane. That should stop the p
hone calls. He still wondered who had killed Pender.
Jody stood when the hostess led his real estate agent to his table. After the usual pleasantries Jody asked the question he was dying to get an answer to.
“Did they accept my offer?”
“Yes,” the agent beamed. She laid the contract on the table in front of Jody. “Five million for the mansion on Esplanade Ave. Eleven bedrooms, Twelve baths and thirteen-thousand square feet. Signed, sealed and delivered, Mr. Schooley.”
“Perfect,” Jody breathed. “Just perfect. How soon can we close?”
“Friday,” the agent smiled.
##
“Kat, I’m going to pay a visit to Kally Latour,” Java informed her partner. “Would you go with me?”
“Can you behave yourself?” Kat chided.
“It’s hard,” Java couldn’t help the crooked impish smile that danced on her lips, “but I’ll try.”
“If you don’t keep your hands to yourself, I’ll break your arm,” Kat warned as Java followed her out the back door of Java’s Place.”
“Are they always like that?” Beau asked.
“Most of the time,” Chris chortled. “They really should get a room and get it over with.”
“Seriously,” Barbie huffed, “you think Kat would go to bed with Java?”
“In a heartbeat, if she weren’t married,” Chris shrugged.
“No way,” Barbie declared. “That’s the point. She is married—a married, straight woman. Straight women don’t sleep with lesbians.”
“Barbie, tell me again what rock you’ve been under for the past thirty years,” Chris laughed.
CHAPTER 21
“Thank you for bringing me along instead of Barbie,” Kat said.
“I know you don’t like me fraternizing with Déjà,” Java grinned. “I don’t know why you’re jealous of her. She can’t hold a candle to you.”
“I am not jealous of her,” Kat declared. “I’m afraid she might put you under a spell.”
“The only one who has me under a spell is you,” Java chuckled. “Surely you know that by now.”
“Umm,” Kat hummed as she turned her head to look out her side window.
“I’m worried about Kally,” Java changed the subject. “I’m afraid her father will beat her to death and feed her body to the gators. No corpus delicti means no case.”
“What are you going to do?” Kat asked.
“Try to convince her to let us put her in the witness protection program until this mess is settled.”
“That is the safest thing to do,” Kat agreed.
“It looks like Déjà is here,” Java motioned toward the priest’s Cadillac parked between two other expensive vehicles.
“Oh goody,” Kat grumped.
“Do be nice to Déjà,” Java chuckled. “Believe me she is no match for you.”
“Even with those hooters that go into the next county?” Kat asked.
“I promise I’ve never looked at her as anything but a good CI asset,” Java replied. “You know how I feel. Any more than a handful is wasted.”
Kat laughed out loud. “How do you always manage to make me laugh?”
Java grinned pleased that she had brought a smile to Kat’s beautiful lips. She fought the desire to lean across the console and kiss her.
“We . . . um, should go in,” Kat whispered.
##
Déjà’s store was cool, a welcome respite from the humid New Orleans air. The jingle of the bell over the door brought Kally from the back. She paused in the beaded doorway and stared at Java.
“Mistress Déjà vu is with a client,” she mumbled.
“I’m here to see you, Kally,” Java smiled sweetly.
“I’m sorry Miss Java,” Kally blurted. “I had to change my story. You know they’re going to release him.”
“It’s okay, Kally,” Java comforted the girl.
“He’d kill me,” Kally cried as tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m scared what he will do to me anyway. He can be so cruel.”
“It’s okay,” Java took the girl’s hand and pulled her into the room. “May we talk with you?”
Kally nodded her head. “I want to help you. I really do.”
“I want to help you,” Java assured her. “I have an idea. Will you listen to me?”
“Yes ma’am.” Kally edged toward the kitchen. “I’ll fix coffee for you and your lady.”
“Oh, she’s not . . .” Java stopped midsentence. “This is Kat Lace. She sings at the club.”
“I know who she is,” Kally ducked her head and looked at Kat through long lashes. “Everyone knows who she is. Would you prefer tea, Miss Lace?”
“Yes,” Kat smiled, “tea would be wonderful.” She liked the girl and understood why Java wanted to help her.
The three sat around the small kitchen table and Java spoke reassuringly to Kally. “Kally, I’ve spoken with the people who arrange things and they will put you into the witness protection program.”
“What’s that mean?” Kally asked suspiciously.
“It means they can get you out of Orleans and move you to anywhere you want to go. They’ll give you a new name and identity and pay you every month until you get on your feet and they’ll help you find a job.”
“You can do that for me?” Kally gasped.
“If you’ll stand by your original testimony about your father.” Java replied.
“What about my brother? Can he go with me? He’s younger and Pa does awful things to him too. It ain’t natural.”
“Of course,” Java promised. “But both of you will have to stand by your original testimony. I can get you out of here as soon as you give the word for me to get the paperwork started.”
“Let me talk to Raymond,” Kally beamed. “I’m sure he wants to get out of here too.”
“Kally, someone murdered a family in San Antonio,” Kat said. “Did your father have anyone working with him?”
Kally closed her eyes and furrowed her forehead. “He always hangs with two guys at the shipyard. He gives Raymond and me to them for favors.”
Kat closed her eyes and looked away. Java knew her partner was feeling the same revulsion she was. “Do you know their names?”
“No,” Kally gazed into her coffee cup. “You might ask Ma. They came to our house a couple of times when she was there.”
Java could feel her case against Latour coming back together. If she could tie the two men to the murders all three would get the death penalty.”
Voices from the parlor indicated Déjà’s client was leaving. They waited until the closing door signaled the woman was alone.
Déjà poked her head through the beaded entrance. “I thought I heard you talking to someone, Kally. What brings you two to my hallowed halls?”
“Just visiting with Kally,” Java stood. “May I speak with you in private? Kat would you continue our conversation with Kally?”
“What’s going on?” Déjà asked as she led Java to a small sofa in her private office.
“I’m trying to salvage my case against Budro Latour,” Java scowled. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the murders in San Antonio and that two men have come forward providing alibis for Latour on the Valentine’s murders.
“I know Kally and her brother recanted their testimony,” Déjà shrugged. “What are you going to do?”
“If I can prove the men are lying and that they are somehow involved with Latour in the murders, I’ll have an open and closed case.”
“That’s a big if,” Déjà wrinkled her nose. “Have you questioned the two men yourself?”
“No, you know I keep a low profile in New Orleans.” Java answered. “But I’ll be in the observation room talking to Beau through the earbud. We should be able to trip them up.”
“Who are they?” Déjà asked.
“I don’t know if the two men providing Latour’s alibi are the same men Kally told me about or not.” Java told her. “If they are, I think I’m on to something.”
>
“Good luck my friend,” Déjà said.
Java looked around the room. “You’ve got some new merchandise,” she commented. “That’s a different looking doll. Um and miniature skulls. Uh, these aren’t plastic, Déjà.”
“Of course, they are sweet cheeks,” Déjà laughed. “We both know that real human skulls are illegal.”
##
“Don’t be nervous,” Kat reassured a fidgeting Kally. “Java will take care of you.”
“You don’t know my Pa, Miss Lace.”
“Please, call me Kat,” she patted Kally’s arm. “He isn’t getting out of jail. I promise.”
Kat stood, picked up the coffee cups and saucers she and Java had used and carried them to the sink.
“Please, Miss . . . uh Kat, let me clean up. Déjà won’t like it if I don’t?”
Kat nodded and walked back into the parlor. Déjà had everything any self-respecting voodoo priestess would have on display in the storefront. She wandered past small animal skulls decorated with feathers and fur, an assortment of voodoo dolls and charms.
A “do it yourself voodoo doll kit” caught her eye. The kit contained several squares of burlap, dark brown thread, a large needle, pins and button eyes. Bowls beside the kit offered extra pins, thread and button eyes.
Kat dipped her hand into the bowl of buttons and examined them closer. They were identical to the two buttons found at the scene of the last two crimes.
“Kally do you sell a lot of these?” Kat held out a handful of buttons.
“Oh yes ma’am. They’re one of our best sellers,” the girl exclaimed. “Lots of people make their own voodoo dolls. You know jilted lovers, angry wives, mad employees.”
“Hum, I might just make a voodoo doll of my own.” Kat picked up one of the kits, several strands of thread and placed them on the counter along with the handful of buttons she’d picked up.”
“May I pay you for these?” Kat asked opening her purse.
“Yes ma’am,” Kally beamed. “Miss Déjà lets me run the cash register.” Kally scanned the price tags on the items and carefully placed them into a bag designed to look like a large voodoo doll. “Madam Déjà vu” was scrolled across the top and “High Priestess” was in large letters on front of the bag.
