The Pretty Ones (A Kate Reid Novel Book 6)

by Robin Mahle

  “Can you just call your moms?” Raquel asked. “She’ll pick us up.”

  “No way. It’s two in the morning and she has to be at work by six. She’ll be pissed if I get her up, not to mention if she sees how fucked up I am.”

  “Whatever.” Raquel shook her head and proceeded to pull the glass from her foot. “Fuck me!” With the piece of glass in her hand, she showed Vanessa. “Look at the size of that? You think I need stiches or some shit?”

  Vanessa noticed the blood that now began to drip from her foot. “Maybe. It does look pretty bad.”

  “Now will you call your mom?”

  Vanessa reached for her cell phone when a man approached, stopping square in front of the girls. She looked up to see him concealed in dark clothing and shadowed by the street light that shined behind him. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “You ladies need some help?”

  “Nah, man. We’re okay. Just waiting on our ride.” She cast a suspicious glance to Raquel.

  The man with the shoulder-length curly hair and baseball cap hovered over them. “You sure? That looks bad. I can take you to urgent care.”

  “I said we was all right. We got someone coming.” Vanessa’s heart pumped hard in her chest.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Shit. I was just offering to help you out, but whatever.” He began to walk away. “Fucking bitches.”

  Vanessa immediately called her mother. “Mom? Me and Raquel need a ride home. Can you please come get us—now?” She continued to eye the man as he walked away. “We’re on Crenshaw and 10th. Thanks, Mom.”

  Raquel waited until Vanessa ended the call. “What the fuck was that guy’s problem?”

  “I don’t know. My moms is coming now.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The man with the dark curly hair continued down the quiet stretch of shuttered liquor stores, pharmacies, and check-cashing joints. The girls he’d passed along the way were long out of his periphery now and he’d begun to focus on the road ahead. Soon he’d approach Death Valley, where he was sure to come across a few junkies, but he wasn’t interested in junkies or street thugs or anyone else like that who frequented the streets at this hour. There was one place he’d had his eye on and that was where he would go. The only place that would be open.

  He approached the still-dark building only blocks from where he’d started his journey and waited. Soon, the early shift would begin and the donut shop would start baking for their morning crowds. He’d eyed the shop for the past few days and knew exactly when she arrived.

  He adjusted the cap on his head, lowering it over his brow, and pulled down on the strands of hair that hung below it. The parking lot was in the back and there he waited. And this time, he tested the fortitude of his spectator. Even considered allowing him to watch before surprising him with an unexpected turn of events. The breadcrumbs had been left. Time would tell whether or not the interloper would appear, but this time, he would be ready.

  Minutes later, the first car arrived. A white, older model Kia pulled onto the lot, its headlights flashing before him. He tucked himself behind the dumpsters to avoid the spotlight. The car stopped and the engine died. A young woman emerged, wearing her black uniform and comfortable tennis shoes, preparing for the long and busy shift.

  From behind the dumpster, he adjusted his baggy jeans and pushed down his hat. He slipped his hand inside a pocket of his fleece, ensuring his gun was in place. Behind his waistband was the knife, which he would retrieve at the appropriate moment.

  Only sparse light was cast from a distant lamp in front of the building and it seemed the parking lot lights weren’t operational. Another bonus.

  She must’ve heard his footsteps crunching atop the chip-sealed surface as he emerged because her head swung in his direction. Her uniform blended into the darkness that surrounded them and it was difficult for him to see what exactly she was doing.

  He moved in closer and that was when the familiar look appeared on her face. The immediate recognition that death was coming.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Remarks jockeyed for position on the tip of Kate’s tongue as she was carried in the elevator to the WFO offices. Last night wasn’t supposed to happen—not that way, but it had, and now the time had come to face the repercussions of her actions.

  The elevator doors had already begun to close before Kate returned to the moment and stepped off at the last minute. To her right was Nick’s office; straight ahead was her cubicle. She peered down the corridor and figured it was best to address the elephant in the room before everyone else arrived. Otherwise, they’d be swimming around one another in a sea of unspoken words.

  “Knock, knock.” Kate leaned into his doorway.

  Nick pulled his attention from his phone and smiled. “Hey. Come in.”

  “Morning.” She walked inside with hesitation behind each step.

  “Good morning. You sleep well?”

  Kate nodded. “You?”

  “Sure.” He appeared ready for a sermon espousing the reasons last night shouldn’t have happened.

  With each passing moment of silence, the air thickened with thoughts each seemed prepared to express, but both afraid to do so.

  “I was going to put in a call to the LAPD detective later today,” Kate began. “You want in on that conversation?” She’d lost her nerve and now it seemed if the topic was to be discussed, Nick would be the one to have to bring it up. And the look on his face suggested he would.

  “No. I’m sure you can handle it. What—um—do you want to talk about last night?”

  A moment’s pause was needed to reflect on her next words because it could make all the difference in how they intended to move forward. She finally sat down. “In all the years we’ve known each other, I never thought it would get this arduous. I’ve always been able to come to you with anything.” The corners of her mouth raised slightly. “I guess that’s all changed now and I don’t really know how to handle it. After we talked—a while back—and I broke it off with Mike; I wasn’t quite sure why I had done it. I thought maybe it had just been too soon. I hadn’t been ready for a serious relationship and Mike, well, he was more than ready.” She cast her eyes down, staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap. “I’ve always felt something for you, Nick. I just couldn’t quantify it. You’ve been more than a friend, more than a boss or colleague.”

  Before she could continue, Nick interrupted. “You broke up with Mike after we talked. Was I the reason?”

  “Not the entire reason. But ever since then, it’s been difficult for us to work as closely as we had before.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry about that. That’s on me.”

  “No it’s not. Look, I would never want to be anything but honest with you and I think last night happened because I was afraid of losing you.”

  “Because I told you I might be transferred?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not because of any pent-up feelings; just out of fear?”

  The light she’d seen in his eyes when she sat down had all but disappeared from view now. “Nick, you know how screwed up I am. You know everything about me, what I’ve been through. Hell, what we’ve been through together.”

  “Hey, I’m no walk in the park, in case you’d forgotten.”

  “Well, that’s true.” She chuckled. “I’d like some time to sort through this, if that’s okay. I have a lot of things to figure out. Things I’ve been putting off for far too long in the name of work. But I can’t put them off any longer.”

  “Am I one of those things?”

  “You are now.” Another gentle smile formed on her lips. “I’d like to take you up on your offer to meet with the LAPD on this investigation. I think being there – boots on the ground, so to speak – might give me a better opportunity to help them find their guy.”

  “And get some time away from me.”

  “Time for myself more than anything. You’ve let me spread my wings in the past and this is a
nother good opportunity. After all, you’ll be gone soon. You can’t hold my hand forever.” She hadn’t meant to bring up the past, but those were similar words he’d said to her during a particularly rough patch when he was dealing with Campbell. And it seemed he’d recalled it too.

  “I understand. Go. See what you can do for those guys. I think it’s a good idea. Jameson and I have a handle on things right now. It’s probably a good time.”

  Kate pushed up from the chair. “Thank you.”

  She disappeared from view and Nick continued to stare into the hall as though she might return and rush to his side. But this wasn’t some fairy tale. Kate was in a class all her own. This wasn’t how he expected the morning to go, but it was really no surprise. Deep down, he felt as though last night had been a mistake and he should’ve walked away, but he couldn’t; not from her.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Suffering one hell of a hangover, Vanessa rolled out of bed and walked gingerly toward the hall bathroom to down a couple of aspirins. Her mom had taken pity on her and Raquel when she arrived to pick up the young women and noticed Raquel’s injured foot. However, in the light of day, she might well be prepared to offer an admonishment and Vanessa wasn’t exactly eager to find out.

  Instead, she returned to her bed, noting the light that had already begun to crawl along her walls, and decided another hour of sleep would be necessary if she were to face her mother’s wrath. Fortunately, though, her mother wouldn’t be finished with her shift until this afternoon and, upon noticing the time, Vanessa had a good few hours before that happened.

  But her plan was short lived when her cell phone blasted an obnoxious ringtone that sounded something akin to helium-induced, high-pitched squeals. Vanessa moaned and answered the call to end the piercing sound that would make anyone’s ears bleed. “What? Why are you calling me so early?”

  “Early?” Raquel began. “I’m at work, stupid. Where the fuck are you?”

  “Asleep.”

  “Jesus, Vanessa, it’s eleven o’clock. Don’t you have some school shit or something to do?”

  “Well, now that you woke me up.” Vanessa opened her eyes a little wider. “What do you want?”

  “Did you hear about that body they found?”

  “What? No. What body?”

  “They found a fucking body next to the donut shop on Vermont Avenue this morning.”

  “So?”

  “That’s only a few blocks from where we were last night.”

  Vanessa sat upright. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking serious, bitch.”

  “That’s scary shit.”

  “I know, right? Vanessa, what about that guy we saw? That creepy motherfucker? You think he did it?”

  She began to recall the man in question and the fact that he had been creepy as hell. “No way. It was probably some drug deal bullshit gone bad. Don’t stress yourself.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s too weird, you know? This guy comes up to us and we blow him off and then he, like, disappears and shit.”

  “I don’t know, Raquel. So what if it was him? What are we supposed to do about it?”

  “Tell the fucking cops and shit.”

  “Hell no. I ain’t talking to no cops about some guy we saw. Are you serious right now?”

  “What if it was that guy? He’s still out there, Vanessa. What, we sit back and do nothing? That could’ve been us.”

  Vanessa lowered the phone from her ear and closed her eyes. Her head was still pounding and she was thirsty and could hardly think straight. A moment later, she was read to answer the question. “Look, we don’t know shit about shit, you feel me? I said I ain’t talking to no fucking cops. You want everyone to think we’re snitches or some shit, ‘cause I don’t. Besides, it wasn’t that guy. No way. He was a creep, but he didn’t look like no killer.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I am. Now get your ass back to work before you get fired from another job. I’ll call you later, okay?” Vanessa waited for a reply. “Okay?”

  “Okay. Fine. Bye.”

  Vanessa dropped her phone onto her bed and leaned back against her headboard. She began to recall the man they’d seen last night. His eyes; the way he looked at her. But he had weird hair. Like, who wore their hair like that anyways? And who the hell wore a Chicago Bulls baseball cap around here?

  “No way.” She shook her head. “No way he killed somebody.” Because if he had, and they said nothing about it, then they’d be allowing the killer to stay on the streets. And who knew if he would kill again. Maybe next time, they wouldn’t be so lucky.

  CHAPTER 9

  The LAPD had been remarkably expedient in their authorization for Kate’s assistance, an unexpected reaction when she called only yesterday afternoon to make the request to fly out and meet with them. Her early flight this morning brought unexpected news as well. According to Detective Sharpe, another body had been found.

  Kate now waited inside the 77th Street precinct for the detective. The enormous police station was almost as big as the WFO and it was surprising that this was one of many of similar size and within just a few miles of one another.

  A man in a black leather jacket, jeans, and bearing a slight paunch soon approached. He seemed to recognize Kate because he didn’t hesitate to offer a greeting. “Agent Reid. I’m Detective Ray Sharpe. Nice to meet you in person.”

  “And you, detective. Thank you for agreeing to meet.”

  “Follow me and we’ll get started.” He began down the hall and turned to her. “How does it feel to be back home?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re from southern California, right?”

  At that moment, Kate realized why the sudden agreement. They’d discovered who she was. Didn’t seem to matter how many years had passed, she’d always be the girl who escaped. “San Diego, but originally from northern California, around Eureka.”

  “Right. That’s right. This is my office here. Please come in.” He held open the door.

  “You must’ve done your homework, detective.” Kate walked past him into the office.

  “Apologies if I’ve offended you. But I needed to know who I was dealing with and, to be honest, there’s a lot of information out there about you.” He closed the door and made his way in. “I respect the hell out of what you’ve done with your life, Agent Reid, all things considered. And so I’m happy to have you aboard.”

  She began to take a less defensive stance in light of his apology and the chip finally fell from her shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate that. So you mentioned the discovery of another body?”

  Sharpe took his seat. “That’s right. In the early hours of this morning and in the same general vicinity as the others. The victim is already at the ME’s office.”

  “And you’re confident it’s the same unsub?”

  “I am.”

  Kate retrieved the file from her carrier bag. “This is what I’ve come up with so far, but we can revise any necessary information to include this latest victim.” She slid the folder toward him.

  Sharpe opened it and reached for his glasses, which were folded inside his shirt pocket. He glanced toward Kate. “It’s hell getting old.”

  She waited while he reviewed the information she’d spent most of the previous night compiling.

  Sharpe looked up from the file. “I’m impressed. This is good work, Agent Reid.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Here’s what I’d like to do to utilize your skills while we continue to investigate. I think it would be a good idea for you to visit the crime scenes and I’ll accompany you, of course. I’d also like you to take a look at the bodies. We’ve indicated several markers, but a second pair of eyes can’t hurt.” He pushed up from his chair. “That should keep us busy for today and, in the meantime, I’m running forensics on the synthetic hair fiber that was found on the previous victim’s body.”

  “Hair fiber?”

  “Yes, a strand of hai
r, most likely from a wig, was found on the victim and they’ve excluded that it belonged to the victim and so now we’re working to find out if it was, in fact, from a wig and the type.”

  “Any chance you can find out where it was purchased?”

  “Possibly. Our forensics team is still working on it.” He walked around the desk. “We’d better head on out. We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “How’s the jet lag?” Sharpe asked as he parked in front of the donut shop where the latest victim was discovered.

  “Not bad—yet.”

  “I’m sure it’ll hit you later today.” He opened the door and stepped outside, hoisting his jeans and sliding on his leather jacket. “This is where we found her.”

  They walked around to the back lot of the donut shop that remained closed and taped off for investigators. A few CSIs were still gathering evidence.

  Kate began to approach the scene near the dumpster. “You were saying you believe the victim was killed here, then dragged and staged in front of the store a short time later?”

  “She wasn’t dragged. No signs of those types of abrasions. Carried is more likely the case.” Sharpe pointed to a faint trail on the asphalt leading to the concrete path along the side of the building. “See there? Intermittent blood spatters. Drops from when he carried her to the front of the building.”

  The two began to walk alongside the bloody trail to the storefront.

  Kate surveyed the area. “Any cameras?”

  “Already obtained the footage.” Sharpe pointed to a bank nearby. “We can review it later, but what we found were some grainy images from the CCTV at the front of the bank that rotates roughly 90 degrees in either direction. In the far corner, you can see something resembling people, but it’s very distant.” He turned the other direction. “And over there is a liquor store, open 24 hours. They have cameras inside and along their drive-through, but no place that would have made the donut shop visible.”