Tom, Harold, Bugsy, and Imogen all nodded. Imogen said, “Excellent work, Dannie. Did any of them have hickeys?”
“No. That’s the other difference. And I haven’t had time to figure out if they’d been on a date with their killer before they wound up dead. But I did notice another parallel. All of them except Marielle seem to have been killed at about the same point in Loverboy’s cycle.”
“Maybe that’s connected to the hickey,” Tom said. “Like he sort of lost control with her.”
“Maybe,” Imogen said. She scanned Dannie’s report. “So they were all killed three days before the date on the collage. Three days before he killed his actual victim.”
“Yes. Which would be—”
Bugsy glanced at the calendar pinned to the wall and said, “Tomorrow.”
The table got quiet. Imogen slowly exhaled. She thought about the word-search page she’d found in the taxi.
Now someone must pay.
Was this what he meant?
“Payday,” Imogen said to herself. She looked up abruptly and repeated it. “Payday. My God, that’s it.”
Dannie stopped evening the pages of the file she was putting away. Tom and Harold froze. Everyone knew what it meant when Imogen got that tone.
Bugsy said, “What?”
“That’s the cycle. I could be wrong, but it tastes right. Every two weeks. Payday.”
“Why would payday make someone want to kill?” Dannie asked.
“Yeah,” Tom put in. “I’m always happy on payday.”
“I don’t know,” Imogen admitted. Tasted lime and burned leaves and heard her aunt’s voice demanding, “Do you know how much we give up for you, ungrateful girl?”
Payday always made Aunt Caroline angry. It was always the worst time of the month. It was when she felt poorest, most taken advantage of. Most used by her ungrateful niece and nephew, her sinning sister’s half-savage children.
Payday. Imogen spent most of them locked in her room without dinner.
“Maybe it is not about his pay cycle, but one of his parents’,” Imogen suggested. The blank looks around the table told her the others did not understand what she meant. “It fits in with what I was thinking, about the collage. The name brands. Money, the power to buy things, held some sort of power in his home when he was growing up. He wanted things, yearned for things. Things mean something to him.” The peanut taste in her mouth was stronger now. She was close.
She looked at the blank faces around her and it faded.
Close to what? What did any of that matter anyway? It brought them no closer to finding Rosalind.
She blew her bangs off her forehead. “I’ve been looking over the old case files, and I noticed another pattern. One that Dannie’s discovery of the bodies fits into, as his way of blowing off steam. I think he has to have sex with the women as a sort of affirmation of his desirability and power, and he has to kill them so he does not kill his victims too early. Because although we don’t really know how Loverboy spends the first half of the time he holds his victims hostage, I think we can have a pretty good idea of how he spends the last few days.”
Imogen went to the whiteboard she’d had Bugsy bring in and wrote:
Three days before final day: Kills another woman.
Two days before final day: Begins torturing his victim.
One day before final day: Stops feeding them. More torture.
Final day: murder.
She faced her team. “I want to get him as soon as possible, obviously. But, given what he proposes to do to Rosalind Carnow, I think we all agree it’s imperative we stop him before he gets here.” Her finger rested on the heading Two days before final day. “That is the day after tomorrow. Which means we have today, tomorrow, and possibly the next morning to find him. I don’t care what you have to do to run down leads, do it. Tom, stay on the Dumpsters. Dannie, you keep working on the dead women, but I want you to focus your attention on the local dry cleaners and laundries. I’m betting Loverboy won’t have wanted to keep Rosalind’s clothes lying around, possibly collecting clues, so he probably left them where he had them washed, which means he will have to be picking them up in the next day or two. Send around that description of the clothes Rosalind was taken in again. Metro should be able to help you with manpower on this. Harold, I want you to run the security tapes of supermarkets and convenience stores in a one-mile radius of the airport through Metro’s face-recognition software. Loverboy must be buying food somewhere. If anyone matches my description of the cabdriver, or the craps dealer’s, particularly if they are repeat visitors to the store in the last week, I want to hear about it.” Her eyes went around the table. “If any of you find anything, no matter how small, call me or Bugsy right away. We’ve got to stop him this time.”
Three nods, three chairs pushed away from the table. Silence as they filed out.
In her head, Imogen counted down. Three days, two days, one day, payday.
SOMEONE MUST PAY!
“Do you want me to turn off the air-conditioning, boss?” Bugsy asked. “You’re shivering.”
Imogen shook her head. “It won’t help.”
CHAPTER 75
“Oh good, Ros, you’re awake,” he said, coming into the family room. Rosalind was panting and there was sweat running down her face but he didn’t seem to notice. He did not even look around to make sure everything was in the right place.
She shifted in the recliner so the scissors weren’t poking her in the back anymore.
“So I brought new tapes for us to watch.” He held up two cassettes. Like all the others, these had stickers that said BELLAGIO SECURITY DO NOT REMOVE on them. “But I can’t do it right now. I’ve got to go see a man about a car.” He chuckled to himself.
Rosalind followed him with her eyes as he went to set the tapes and the grocery bag he was carrying on his desk. Please don’t let him notice the hairpins are gone, she thought. Please don’t let him notice—
The drawer wasn’t closed all the way, and there was a piece of paper sticking out of it. How could she have been so careless? There was no way he wasn’t going to notice that. Notice and know and—
But he just put the bag down on the desk and turned to face her.
“God, Ros, you look like you’ve been running a marathon. Why are you so sweaty?”
“I—I think I’ve got a cold,” Rosalind stammered. “A fever.”
He came and put his hand on her forehead. “I don’t feel anything.” He leaned down and stared in her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just making this up to get more attention?” His gaze moved to her lap. “Jeez, Ros, you’ve gotten yourself messy again.” He picked a piece of fuzz from her nightgown. It must have stuck when she was crawling back into the recliner. Now he was going to know, now he was going to—
He stared at it intently. He held it out to her. “Make a wish, Ros,” he said, and blew it onto the ground.
“I hope you wished for popcorn for lunch, because that’s what you’re having.” He reached into the grocery bag and brought out a sack of cheese-flavored popcorn. “I didn’t have time to get anything fancy.”
“That’s okay,” she assured him.
“I knew it would be. I knew whatever I did would be okay with you. Because you like me SOOO much.” He leaned his face right in front of hers. “Isn’t that right, Rosalind?”
“That’s right.” She swallowed hard. She did not understand what he was doing.
He stood up. “I know.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out, then opened the bag of popcorn. “Sometimes, Ros, you make me feel so silly, do you know that?”
Rosalind looked at him warily. Slowly, she shook her head.
“Well, you do. Now open wide,” he said. She did and he shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“Good, huh?” he asked. “Are you—”
His phone started to ring, interrupting him. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. “Hey, Ros, it’s a friend of
yours.” He held it out to her and the name BITCH flashed on the screen. “That’s Julia. Want to talk to her?”
Rosalind chewed and swallowed as fast as she could. “Yes.”
“Too bad! I don’t think we’ll take that call.” He pushed a button and transferred it to his voice mail. “Now, where were we? Oh right. Time for another bite. Ready?”
“I’m not sure—”
He pushed popcorn into her mouth. This second helping was bigger, and it took Rosalind a minute to realize what he had done. By then it was too late.
“Ha ha!” he said, rocking from one foot to the other. “I fooled you, didn’t I, Ros? I snuck your medicine in with the popcorn. Ha ha ha!”
Rosalind tried to push the unchewed parts of the tranquilizer capsules under her tongue but she’d already swallowed at least one of them.
“Don’t look at me that way, Ros,” he scolded her. “It’s for your own good. Pleasant dreams!”
He closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER 76
Bugsy picked up his phone on the third ring. “Yes.” He listened for a moment, laughed, said, “Hold on.”
He slid the phone from under his mouth. “It’s Julia, boss. She wants to know if we’ve seen Wrightly Waring.”
“No.”
“No,” Bugsy repeated into the mouthpiece.
Imogen was standing and looking at the maps with “family fun” sites marked on them from Loverboy’s earlier kills. Over her shoulder she said, “Ask Julia if she knows if there is a racetrack near Yorba, California. And also where the Arbor Motors track is near Boston.”
Bugsy relayed the questions, nodded, and hung up. “Julia says there’s a defunct motor speedway in Anaheim that Arbor and a few other companies use as a test track, and that their facility in Boston is up the Lynnway near Route 1A.”
Imogen marked both of those on the maps and studied them.
“Find anything?”
“No. Except that racing must be a very popular sport, because there seem to be racetracks near every large and small town in America.” She turned around and took one of the last Tootsie Pops from the box. “You and Julia are certainly becoming good friends,” she said.
Bugsy cracked up. “You sound like a mom from a ’fifties sitcom. Have you forgotten that I’m gay, or are you jealous?”
“No. But Cal might be if you don’t watch out.”
“I don’t think I’m the one Cal needs to worry about.”
“What do you mean? Do you think Julia is having an affair?”
“I’d say it’s likely.”
Imogen frowned. “That’s so odd. She went on and on to me the other day about the joys of marriage. But you think she’s sleeping with another man?”
Bugsy shook his head. “No. I think she’s sleeping with Rachel.”
“Rachel? J.D.’s assistant?”
“Exactly.”
“Are you saying that Julia is bisexual?”
“Something like that. But she’s not out—probably will never be out. She’s terrified of what Benton would say, how he would react. The whole family. At least that’s my take. She bends over backward to seem heterosexual and to make Cal happy. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she and Rachel haven’t been seeing each other clandestinely for some time.”
Imogen thought back over the night when Rachel had given her a ride back to the Bellagio. Could she have been coming to see Julia?
“Do you think Cal knows?” she asked.
“No way. She’s so terrified of anyone finding out that she acts the part of the perfect wife. Do anything for him, meet his needs before he’s even thought of them himself. You know who does know, though, I think?”
Imogen nodded to herself. “J.D.”
“Right. That’s why she seems so scared around him. I think she’s always afraid he’s going to blurt it out.”
“Poor Julia. It has got to be horrible for her to have such a big and important secret. That must be why she’s so busy pretending not to have any.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. But I do think it’s making her unhappy.”
Imogen pictured her with Lancelot, the hairless dog she refused to touch, whom she called Little Ugly. “You can dress it up but underneath it’s still ugly,” Julia had said. At the time Imogen had wondered which of them she was talking about, but now she thought she knew.
“Do you think she’ll live like that forever?”
“She doesn’t think she has a choice. She’s afraid her family will disown her.”
Family. The crux of everything. The crux of the case. The word had always tasted cold and metallic to Imogen, something she was outside of. But now it had taken on a new undertone. Licorice.
Menace. Torment.
Family fun.
CHAPTER 77
Tick-tock-tick-tock!
Imogen glanced at the clock as she picked up the phone. It was just past midnight.
“Hello?”
“Knock, knock.”
She laughed. “Who’s there?”
“Pretty.”
“Pretty who?”
“Pretty lonely here without you.”
“How long did it take you to make that up, Benton?”
“Not so long. Some time. Did you like it?”
“What are you doing up so late?” she said instead of answering.
“Thinking about you. What are you doing?”
“Going crazy.”
“Anything new today?”
“Nothing good. Nothing good enough.”
He said, “It will come.”
“I miss having you around.”
There was a long pause. Imogen thought maybe she’d said something wrong. “Are you there?” she asked.
“Yes. I just—I didn’t expect you to say that. It was nice.”
“It’s true.”
“I miss being around you.”
“How’s Detroit?”
“Cold. And lonely. I don’t want to talk about that. How’s Rex?”
Imogen looked at him, back in his fancy tank. There was a little treasure chest in there with him now that she hadn’t noticed before. “I think he’s sleeping.”
“What a novel idea. Why don’t you try it?”
“I don’t have time.”
“You’ll think better if you get some sleep.”
“I’m too tense.”
“Where are you?”
“In my bedroom. I’m working in bed.”
“Alone?”
“Of course. Well, me and Rex.”
“I mean, is Bugsy in the other room or something?”
“No.”
“What are you wearing?”
“My pajamas.”
“The ones with the flying toasters on them? The ones that are too big for you?”
“Yes.”
“God, I wish I were there. Do you have any idea how sexy you look in those?”
“Benton.” Imogen laughed. “That’s absurd.”
“No, really. When you answered the door wearing them the other day, you took my breath away.”
It was the nicest compliment anyone had ever paid her. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. I wish I were there lying in bed next to you while you worked.”
“I wish you were, too.”
“Since I can’t be, humor me by going to sleep. Just for a few hours.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Of course you aren’t. If you turn out your light and unwrap one of the chocolates the hotel puts on your pillow, I’ll tell you a bedtime story.”
Benton’s story had a very relaxing effect on Imogen. Ten minutes later, her body felt weightless and she could not keep her eyes open.
“Do you think you can sleep now?” Benton asked disingenuously.
“Sleep? I can hardly move. Benton, what did you do to me?”
He laughed, satisfied. “My work here is finished. I’ll call you at breakfast time.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER 78
“Sorry I couldn’t get here until now,” Dannie said, setting down her briefcase in “their room” at the Fun Motel. “Work is crazy.”
Loverboy helped her out of her jacket, all polite. “Are there new developments in the case?” he asked. He was the Interested Boyfriend. He knew so many roles.
“Yes and no,” she said. “Imogen thinks she knows why he kills every two weeks.”
Loverboy was unbuttoning her blouse, pretending not to be listening too much. With each button, he kissed a little more skin. “Why does she think?”
Dannie’s voice started to slur. “She says it has something to do with payday. That doesn’t really make sense to me, but she’s been right before.”
Payday! Imogen was smart smart smart. Loverboy slid Dannie’s blouse off and looked at her bra. It was bright pink with flowers on it. He could see her nipples through the mesh. It was a cheap brand, but he knew she’d bought it that day just for him, so it was special. She really liked him. Really really. He took her breasts in his hands and said, “Payday. Hmmm. Is that the only idea she can come up with?”
“No. I’m getting in touch with all the dry cleaners in the city to see if he left Rosalind’s clothes with any of them.”
“Why would he do that?” Loverboy asked. He hadn’t expected them to think of the dry cleaners.
“To keep them clean. So there wouldn’t be any clues.”
His lips slid along the lacy polyester edge of the bra. “Sounds so iffy. And it sounds like a lot of work. Do you have to do that all by yourself?”
“Yes.” It was more a sigh than a syllable.
He let his teeth nibble along the elastic band of the bra. “No wonder you have to work so late. Are you sure your Imogen is as good as she’s supposed to be?”
“She is. There’s something else too. We’ve also discovered that he kills a woman three days before he does his real murder. Like blowing off steam.” His lips were on her nipples through the bra, but she stopped him now and pulled his face up so he was looking at her. “You understand I shouldn’t be talking about this with you,” she said.
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