The technician was like a dog with a bone, though. Nicole had to give the kid props for his persistence. “But we can’t simply dismiss him so easily.”
Kent shook his head and sighed. “Just watch.”
All heads turned to the live feed of the school’s entrance. Sure enough, there was Harold, but a woman joined him. A woman who Nicole recognized from Lyla’s school file. Apparently so did Jimmi.
“That’s the school principal!”
“Yes it is,” Kent sagely replied as the principal and janitor kissed. “Like I said, poor Harold is trying to reform. I figured we’d out him as a convicted pedophile after we nab the unsub, otherwise we might spook the real killer.”
Jimmi frowned. “You already knew all about Harold?”
Kent snorted. “Please. A mid-forties janitor who is living in a basement apartment with a comb-over like that? Clearly, he is disturbed, just not disturbed enough to be our guy. Now, how is the real project going?”
The tech shook off his disappointment and typed again. “I mean, the school has state-of- the-art encryption, but I have already broken through several firewalls. I should be at the heart of their mainframe within an hour or so.”
“Mainframe? What mainframe?” Nicole asked, suddenly not so amused with Kent’s show. “I thought you were only conducting external surveillance?”
Jimmi looked surprised that Nicole spoke—as if he truly did not realize that she was in the van with them. His eyes darted from her to Kent. “The Hartford Preparatory Academy. Where else would I be hacking into?”
She turned on the profiler. “And I suppose you filled out the paperwork to get a warrant for this?”
“You know, I feel like my authority comes from a higher power than the judicial system,” Kent replied casually.
“What?” Jimmi asked, his hands flying back from the keyboard. “You mean I just illegally hacked into a private school’s security network?”
Nicole patted him on the back. “How’s it feel to be in His Eminence’s presence now?”
The kid actually turned green as he swallowed. “They could sue not just the department but me personally.” Jimmi turned to Kent. “You said I had the green light.”
“Hey, I told you not to trip any alarms,” Kent said with a shrug. “Go in clean.”
Jimmi looked at Nicole. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Sure, now she was the go-to one after incarceration and high-dollar legal settlements were on the table.
It was Kent who answered quickly. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
Nicole hated to admit it, but Kent was right. No matter what they did, anything they obtained from the school would be the fruit of the poisoned tree. It would never be admissible in court. However, if it helped catch a serial killer, a serial killer of children, it might be worth it.
Plus, she knew how Kent’s mind worked. Even if the case here were thrown out, there were two other jurisdictions to try the guy if they caught him. It was a calculated risk that Kent was willing to take. Unfortunately, he seldom filled in anyone else who was taking the risk with him.
“What Special Agent Harbinger is trying to say is, you aren’t going to get in any more hot water by finishing the job. And the best defense against getting in trouble would be to save a little girl’s life. But it’s your call, Jimmi. You can stop now, or …”
Nicole couldn’t believe she was doing Kent’s dirty work. Had she forgotten the Brain Incident of 2008?
Kent picked up where Nicole left off. “Or you can grow a pair, and end a three-year reign of terror.”
“Man!” Jimmi exclaimed, looking at Kent. “They said you were a Svengali, but damn. How could I not be in?”
She shook her head. The number of people willing to follow Kent down the rabbit hole was simply astonishing. Nicole wasn’t sure if she was relieved or a little jealous that she wasn’t the only one.
“All right, then,” Kent tapped his file on the counter. “Detective Usher and I are going on a little field trip. Call Usher once you’ve broken into the computer lab’s server. I want every girl’s account looked at.”
“Without tripping any alarms, of course,” Jimmi followed up.
“You are catching on,” Kent said as he opened the van door and hopped out.
Nicole scribbled her number down as she rushed to follow the profiler. If she didn’t keep him in line of sight, he would ditch her in a heartbeat.
That’s just how Kent rolled.
* * *
Kent kept the window down even though a light rain was falling. He liked the breeze on his face. The moisture in the air clinging to his skin. He both loved and hated this phase of a case. He had so many impressions. So many leads, leads that no one else seemed to have followed, yet his theory was only half formed. He was missing something, and he hated that feeling. Something that should have been so very obvious eluded him.
Kent did not like being eluded.
“Here, pull in here,” Kent instructed Nicole as they entered a rather seedy part of the city. Large brick buildings rose up around them, mainly industrial. A few brave souls had tried to create trendy clubs out of the mostly vacant buildings, but the bum urine and frequent muggings killed even that cottage industry.
Nicole put the car in park and looked up and down the street. “What’s here?”
Kent pulled out the file and pointed to several items he had highlighted. They all belonged to the “Everything’s Aglow Boutique.” The charges were large—over five hundred dollars—which would not be outrageous for couture fashion, except they were all large, round figures. No taxes. No, $499. Plus, look at this address in this part of town. Boutique his ass.
“So, you are thinking this isn’t a fashion outlet we are looking for?”
“Nope,” he answered as he got out of the car.
“Are you going to share what you think it is?”
He just gave her that look. Of course he wasn’t. What would the fun in that be?
Kent strode up to the door and found a small intercom. He hit the button.
The speaker crackled to life. “Password?”
He leaned close to the intercom. “I was referred by customer number seven two eight one.”
There was a moment of silence, and then a loud clunk sounded as the door was unlocked. It swung open into the building. Nicole’s hand went to her holster, but he shook his head. Nudging the door open all the way, Kent peered into the darkened entry. A shiver passed down his back. Red brick buildings were not his favorite. But what had he said to the technician? A reign of terror had to be ended.
They cautiously made their way through the dark room as the door swung closed behind them. Only a dim light up ahead gave them direction. They reached a booth, screened in like a confessional. It was all very Catholic, except that the screen was made out of a sheer, burgundy chiffon with lace trim.
A figure stood on the other side. “A little early in the day for a referral.”
The voice was smoky smooth, with a touch of southern grace.
Kent put his arm around Nicole, who stiffened under his sudden embrace. “She was finally in the mood to try something different and I, well, I want to watch.”
Nicole’s eyes narrowed as she realized where they were. She shot him that “we will talk about this later” glance, but otherwise played along.
“Yes, my friend Carla—”
“We don’t use real names here,” the figure said. “You mean customer seven two eight one.”
“Yes. I was told to ask for her regular.”
“You’re in luck. She is still finishing up after a late night,” the sultry voice said. “We require payment first.”
Nicole looked at Kent, but he shrugged. “Sorry, I must have left my wallet in the car.”
She wasn’t buying it, but she pulled out her credit card. “How much is it?”
“For the two of you, twelve hundred.”
“Dollars?” Nicole asked incredulously, and then snatched
the card back and gave the mysterious clerk a different one. “Here use this one.”
The card disappeared for a moment, and then was returned.
“Um, don’t you want me to sign anything?” Nicole asked.
“Darling, no one ever asks for a return,” the voice explained. “Door number seven. And today’s safe word is ‘honeysuckle.’ ”
Kent guided Nicole down the hallway as she put her card back in her wallet.
“You are enjoying this way too much,” she whispered.
Ah, but he was.
Kent had known that Mrs. Sutton was wound a bit too tight, but this, this club was an interesting twist. However, once you had seen one sex club you kind of had seen them all. Sure, some put on more glam, while others were more of the industrial vibe of this one, but they were all the same. They provided discreet sexual exploration, for a price.
Quickly, they arrived at door number seven.
“Are you sure I can’t be the one to watch?” Nicole asked.
“Sorry. I called shotgun first.”
He kissed her neck, though, to let her know he wouldn’t let it go too far. Or least not after she used the word “honeysuckle.”
Kent opened the door and even he was a bit surprised at the elaborate and quite extensive collection of sadomasochistic equipment. The walls were lined with it. Ball gags. Whips and chains. Oh, my.
Nicole hovered by the door. A tall figure emerged from the back of the room. Dressed in a black and red corset and fishnet stockings, she had to be at least six and a half feet tall and in those six-inch heels? She rose to nearly seven feet tall. Her head was shaved down to her mocha skin except for a flaming red Mohawk that must have added another ten inches to her overall height. She truly was a dark Amazon amongst men.
Of course, with that came a very prominent Adam’s apple. The dominatrix wasn’t really a she, but Kent got the impression that is how she liked to be referred to.
“Don’t be shy,” she cooed. “I am Darling, and if it’s your first time, we don’t need to use any of the toys.”
“Come on, honey,” Kent encouraged Nicole. “You know you always wanted to try the lifestyle.”
Darling dragged the edge of her whip along Kent’s cheek. Her long, fake gem-studded eyelashes batting. “Oh, so it seems you’ve taken a walk on the dark side.”
“You could say that,” Kent replied. The number of sex clubs an effective profiler had to explore was shockingly high. “But really, this is all about my baby.”
Nicole put her hand out for Darling to shake, and then must have realized that would seem silly, so she retracted it which made her look all the more nervous.
“I, I want whatever Mrs. Sutt—”
Darling shook her finger. “No names.”
Nicole sighed. “Customer number seven two—”
Darling chuckled. “No. In here she is known as ‘Queen S.’ ”
“Queen S, then.”
Darling walked in a circle around Nicole, eyeing her up and down. “Girl, you’ve got some strut, but I don’t think you could handle Queen S’s indulgences. How about we just tie you up a little and start with some light spanking?”
Nicole backed away. “Okay, I am sorry, that’s it. Honeysuckle.”
Darling must have noticed the glint of gold at Nicole’s waist, as her voice got deeper.
“Of course in a totally nonsexual way.”
Kent raised a hand. “Don’t worry. We aren’t vice.”
The tall transvestite didn’t quite seem to believe him as she took another step back.
“We just need to know if Queen S talked about her daughter and what was going on at home,” Kent reassured her.
“No, no she didn’t.” Darling rushed on. “I am telling you, it was all business once she was here. There was a lot going on, just no talking. I mean, I feel sorry for her with the whole stalking thing, but she never talked about it.”
Nicole cocked her head. “If she never talked about it, how do you know about her daughter’s situation?”
Darling looked at Nicole, then Kent. “Um, King S, of course.”
“You mean they both come in?” Kent asked.
Darling chuckled. “No, no, of course not. He comes in through the gentlemen’s entrance at the back.”
“The Humidor Club and Bar,” Kent stated, almost hitting himself on the forehead. Off of Nicole’s quizzical look, he explained. “Another large, rounded, expense on their credit card.”
“This is a small city, and we are the only upscale club in the area, so we have two distinct companies so that husbands do not run into wives in the lobby.” Darling continued, “Of course, one day they nearly did intersect here. It was a bit of a cluster, but we managed.”
So both parents felt the need to indulge their lesser angels. Apart. Very interesting.
If they were keeping such secrets from one another, and Lyla was hiding an iPod, what else was the family hiding? The more you rattled their cages, the more they seemed to break apart. Was it just the long-drawn-out stress, or something else?
“What exactly did ‘King S’ say?” Nicole asked.
“Well, not so much ‘say’, but sob. The poor bastard pays nearly a grand to come in here and cry. Without my help. It’s kind of pathetic, really.”
“What exactly does he cry about?” Nicole asked as Kent’s mind whirred. The wife wants to be punished, and the husband is looking for absolution. This really was taking family dysfunction to a whole other level.
“Just how helpless he feels that he can’t protect his family. How he is worried that Lyla will try to kill herself again. How they can’t seem to conceive.”
Kent’s head jerked up. “Conceive? You mean they are trying for another child?”
Darling nodded. “Yes, it is why we seldom … ‘finish,’ if you know what I mean. He is saving the swimmers for her.”
Were they trying to carry on normally and give Lyla hope, or had they written her off? Perhaps the killer hadn’t just picked Lyla. Maybe he had picked the whole sad family. This brought up a whole slew of new suspects. Was the killer truly targeting Lyla, or simply threatening her to get back at her parents?
Something itched at the edge of Kent’s brain. A piece of the puzzle. The main piece of the puzzle was still missing. And he wasn’t going to find it here.
“Thank you so much, Darling,” Kent said as he leaned over and kissed her hand. “You have been most helpful.”
“I can give you two a rain check if you want.”
“That would be delightful,” Kent answered playfully as Nicole elbowed him in the side.
“Actually, I need to speak with someone about reversing the charges on my card,” Nicole stated as Kent escorted her from the room.
He then winked at Darling. “Later,” he said.
* * *
Nicole elbowed Kent again as he closed the door.
“What?” he responded. “Even transvestite, bondage dominatrixes need love.”
She just ignored him. It was usually better that way. “The question is … did we get twelve hundred dollars worth of intel out of that interview?”
Kent waved his hand, dismissing her concern. Per usual. There was no one at the booth, but she was pretty sure the “Boutique” would credit her back rather than have a vice raid. Her captain definitely was not going to approve this expense.
As they moved toward the exit, her phone vibrated in her pocket. A lot. She pulled it out to find about ten texts from Jimmi. Rather than read them, she just dialed the number and put it on speaker.
“Detective Usher?” Jimmi’s voice was high and rushed. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”
“Obviously,” Nicole answered, still slightly shaken from the club. “What is it?”
“I found …” Jimmi said as keystrokes came over the line. “I am texting you a screen capture of some documents.”
Within moments, her phone vibrated again. She loaded the picture. It was a copy of the threats made against Ly
la.
“And?” Nicole asked.
“They were made from a fellow student’s computer. A Jennifer Stark,” Jimmi stated. “Only Jennifer was in London on vacation at the time.”
Nicole looked up to find Kent looking off into the darkened room. Only the soft glow of the cell phone’s light illuminated them. He was piecing together the puzzle. Nicole could see where this might be leading. Yet, she could not catch up with the profiler.
“But anyone could have used that computer. Even Harold, for that matter,” Jimmi answered even though it wasn’t him she was necessarily talking to.
Jimmi raced on. “Except I can tell that the sender actually spell-checked the item. Here is the original document before it was corrected.”
Nicole looked down to see that many of the words, especially with vowels, were misspelled. More specifically, they had the vowels out of order.
“Dyslexia,” Kent breathed softly.
Lyla was dyslexic.
But it couldn’t be. Why would she send herself threatening notes?
“Hold on, hold on,” Jimmi said excitedly. “I am downloading the security footage. The lab has motion-activated cameras for theft control.”
There was an agonized silence as Jimmi scanned the footage. “Holy crap! It was definitely Lyla at the computer.”
Nicole tried to wrap her mind around it, but still struggled.
“It gets worse.” Jimmi continued. “She tried to erase them, but there are multiple searches for paranoid schizophrenia and how the courts handle juvenile offenders.”
Nicole shook her head. There was no way. But Kent looked up.
“Call the Suttons,” Kent ordered. “Let them know that we are heading over right now.”
The profiler didn’t wait for Jimmi to even acknowledge the order as he cut off the call and strode to the door.
“Kent, wait,” Nicole urged as she caught up with him. “There must be another reason why she sent those notes.”
“The evidence would suggest otherwise.”
As they exited the sex club, Nicole grabbed his sleeve. “Child murderers are the least likely, and a girl? Serial killing? It is unheard of.”
Dark Lullaby Page 3
