Kiss Me, Kill Me

by Allison Brennan

  “Actually,” Lucy said, “we don’t know who hurt Alanna.” She felt Panetta turn his gaze to her. He was not happy. “Wade is in jail because he lied to Agent Madeaux. Did you know that lying to the FBI is a crime?”

  He nodded. “She told me.”

  “It’s true. If you lie and we can prove it, then you will have to go to jail, too. I like you, Dennis. I don’t want you to go to jail.”

  “I don’t want to go to jail.” He looked at Jessica’s picture. “That’s Jenna.”

  “Jenna?” Suzanne said. “How do you know her?”

  “I stay with Wade sometimes. She was talking on his computer.”

  “Talking?” Suzanne prompted.

  Dennis turned bright red and whispered, “She was naked. Wade didn’t see me come in at first. Then he got mad and yelled at me.”

  Panetta steered the conversation away from that angle and asked, “Were you mad at Jenna?”

  “No, I—”

  “Because I would be,” Panetta said.

  Lucy wanted to shut the detective down. Dennis was getting agitated again, and it was because he was embarrassed, not because he killed her.

  “I wasn’t mad at anyone. Wade told me to knock from then on, and I said the door was open, and then he just turned off the computer. That was a long time ago. Last summer.”

  Suzanne put the pictures of Erica Ripley and Heather Garcia in front of Dennis. “What about these two? Do you know them?”

  He pointed to Heather. “I don’t know her. But that’s Erica. She works at the Java Central coffeehouse. She came with us to a party once, but—” He frowned, thinking.

  “What party?”

  “It was real hot. Labor Day weekend and I wanted to go to Martha’s Vineyard with Charlie, but Wade wanted me to drive him to a party. He just lost his license because he was drinking. He said I was the only one he trusted. So we went. He made me come in because it was too hot to sit in the car. I did not like it. It was so loud my head hurt. And Wade was drinking, and he gets stupid when he drinks.”

  “Who says that?” Lucy asked him.

  “Charlie. It’s why Wade lost his license. Charlie said, ‘You deserve it, you get stupid when you drink.’ ”

  “What stupid thing did Wade do that night?” Suzanne asked.

  “Lots of them. He wanted me to have sex with a girl I never met before and I didn’t want to. Alanna was mad at him about that. Then he hurt Alanna’s feelings because he brought Erica to the party. She said, ‘I don’t care if you fuck around here, but don’t bring it home.’ ”

  Lucy wondered if Dennis had an eidetic memory, or at least an enhanced auditory memory.

  Suzanne prompted, “You told me earlier that Wade and Alanna broke up. But they went to a Yankees game together after that party.”

  “They broke up, then Wade said he was sorry and gave her the tickets. She said, ‘This is your last chance.’ Charlie said it would never work out because they had an open relationship.”

  “Do you know what an open relationship is?” Lucy asked.

  “When you have a girlfriend but still have sex with other girls.”

  “And after the Yankees game?” Suzanne asked.

  “I don’t know what happened. But Wade was real upset about it and said he fucked up again.”

  Panetta asked, “Were you mad at Alanna?”

  Dennis shook his head. “She was nice to me.”

  “Was Erica nice to you?” Lucy asked.

  Dennis shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “What about Jessica?”

  “Who?”

  Suzanne touched the photo. “Her name is Jessica.”

  He shook his head. “Her name is Jenna.”

  “She only pretended her name was Jenna.”

  He brightened. “Oh, I get it.”

  Lucy glanced at her phone, then opened Sean’s message.

  Found Kirsten. She’s in the hospital sick with an infection. Dennis was taking care of her at his brother Charles’s apartment in Brooklyn Heights. I have proof. More in a sec.

  Lucy opened her files and pulled out a picture of Kirsten. “Do you know this girl?”

  His lip trembled. “What happened?”

  “Can you tell me?”

  He looked panicked. “You’re only showing me pictures of dead girls! Did she die?”

  “No,” Lucy said. Suzanne narrowed her gaze at Lucy, telling her to back off. Lucy swallowed. She was certain her first instinct was right, that Dennis didn’t kill those girls, and neither did Wade. “She’s fine. She’s in the hospital.”

  He breathed easier. “Okay, good. Wade told me—” He stopped talking and looked at his hands folded on the table.

  Suzanne said, “You need to tell the truth.”

  He wrestled with it for about thirty seconds. “If I tell you the truth, promise me you won’t get mad at Wade and make him stay in jail.”

  Suzanne said, “If Wade didn’t kill these girls, I promise he won’t stay in jail.”

  Lucy knew that Suzanne couldn’t promise any such thing. Already, Wade was in serious trouble for compromising an investigation and for attempting to destroy evidence.

  Dennis believed her. “Okay, I found Kirsten last weekend and she was real scared and hurt and I wanted to take her to the doctor, but she was crying and said no. Wade told me I shouldn’t have kept her at Charlie’s because she was real sick, and then she wouldn’t wake up. Wade thought I hurt her, but I told him I didn’t, and he believed me but said it looked bad because he knew her.”

  “Wade knows Kirsten?” Suzanne said.

  “He said he did. He said something weird was going on and that he would figure it out, but he told me—remember you promised he won’t get in trouble.” He was looking at Suzanne for an answer.

  “Yes I did.”

  He accepted the nonanswer and said, “He told me he knew all the women who were killed by the Cinderella Strangler. He was really scared.”

  “Because he killed them and didn’t want to go to jail?” Panetta asked.

  “No!” Dennis slapped his hand on the table in his first physical burst of anger. “No, no, no! He didn’t kill anyone.”

  Suzanne said, “Wade is in jail because he told me he didn’t know the four girls who were killed. That he knew them, had sex with them, and lied about it—that looks very bad.”

  “But he didn’t! I know it.”

  “Did you kill those girls?” Panetta demanded.

  Dennis’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

  Suzanne prompted, “Maybe you were upset because Wade was spending more time with them than with you.”

  He continued to shake his head.

  “He embarrassed you at that party,” Panetta said. “Told you to have sex with someone you didn’t like. Did the girls laugh at you? Or did they want Wade but not you? Did you love Alanna? Is that why you killed her—because she loved your brother, who didn’t deserve her?”

  Dennis was crying. “I didn’t kill Alanna. I didn’t. I didn’t.” He put his head down. “I want to see Wade. Please.”

  The lawyer said, “This conversation is over.”

  “One more question,” Lucy said. She reached out and touched Dennis on the arm. He was trembling. He looked at her when she said his name softly.

  “Dennis. You have a good memory. I want you to think back to when you found Kirsten running.”

  He sniffed. “She wasn’t running. She fell down. That’s when I got out of my car and picked her up.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “She said, ‘Don’t let her get me.’ ”

  Noah came through.

  Sean arrived at Rikers Island just before two on Sunday afternoon, hauling ass the entire way because of a mandatory two p.m. registration deadline that even Noah couldn’t get the Department of Corrections to waive. But after being cleared and given a visitor’s pass, Sean was approached by a guy in a suit. “Mr. Rogan, Special Agent Steven Plunkett, the FBI liaison for Rikers.”
>
  Sean shook his extended hand and followed him down a series of corridors. At several junctions, they stopped and waited for the guard to release the lock and allow them to pass.

  Sean supposed that he should have gone through Suzanne Madeaux, but they were in the middle of interviewing Dennis Barnett, and Sean was concerned about Kirsten’s safety. If the killer found out that Kirsten was in the hospital, she was in jeopardy.

  Lucy hadn’t had enough faith in her analysis to follow up on her theory, but Sean didn’t doubt it. Lucy thought the killer was a woman.

  And Sean suspected Wade Barnett knew who it was.

  Plunkett ran through the rules with Sean about prisoner interaction, but Sean was only half listening. By the time they reached a private room—the type where lawyers met with their clients—Sean had his game plan set. He wasn’t surprised that Plunkett stayed in the room.

  Wade Barnett didn’t smile when Sean entered. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Sean Rogan, private investigator. Kirsten Benton is my cousin.”

  There was partial recognition in Barnett’s eyes, and Sean added, “You know her as Ashleigh.”

  Barnett closed his eyes. “I didn’t know Dennis was keeping her.”

  “I believe you.”

  Barnett looked at him. “Why? No one has believed a word I’ve said.”

  “That happens when you lie to the cops. If they find out, they don’t believe anything else you say.” Sean had some experience with that principle. “I’m going to tell you what I think. You correct me. I need answers, and I need them now—because Kirsten is in danger.”

  He seemed surprised. “But—”

  “Yes, a priest found her and took her to the hospital, and I found your brother’s apartment and know she was well taken care of. Except that she has a serious infection and is still unconscious.”

  “I took her in as soon as I found out, believe me—”

  “You didn’t take her to the hospital, but I’m going to overlook that. I think, when the FBI and NYPD came to talk to you about the murders of four women you had sex with, you panicked. You knew Alanna had been killed. But I don’t think you put the others together. There wasn’t much press on Erica Ripley’s murder, and it wasn’t until after New Year’s that the press dubbed the killer the Cinderella Strangler.

  “You ran the Party Girl website through an offshore company that hosted it for you. When the police talked to you Thursday morning, you finally put the murders together. But it wasn’t just because you had sex with those four women. It was because you thought you’d be liable for their deaths because they were all members of the Party Girl website. You thought someone was using your site to target their victims. So you paid to have the site taken down.

  “Fortunately, my partner and I are smarter than you, and we retrieved cached data and rebuilt the whole enchilada.” Sean watched Barnett’s face register complete surprise.

  Sean continued. “You probably started thinking Thursday night that you personally knew these victims. There were nine hundred sixty-one female profiles on Party Girl. What are the odds that four who live in New York would be killed? What are the odds that you would have slept with all four women?”

  Sean leaned forward. “That’s when you tracked down your brother Dennis. I don’t know if you thought he was killing them, or—”

  “Stay away from my brother,” Wade said. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “That’s what my girlfriend said. But the police are interviewing him right now. You want to know why?”

  “Dennis would not survive in prison. How could they? He didn’t kill anyone!”

  “And neither did you. A fifth victim turned up last night.”

  Wade’s entire body sagged. “What?”

  “Sierra Hinkle. And my partner already checked—she wasn’t on the Party Girl site under any name. Did you know her?”

  “No.”

  “She was a waitress in Brooklyn.”

  “I didn’t know her.”

  Sean took Sierra Hinkle’s picture out of his pocket and showed Barnett, just to be certain.

  “I’ve never seen her.”

  “Do you want to know why she was killed?”

  “You’re going to tell me either way.”

  “Because you’re in prison. That’s not what your ex-girlfriend wanted.”

  “You’re insane. Alanna’s dead.”

  “She wasn’t your only girlfriend. Think back. A woman you dated who didn’t take it well when you broke it off. Someone who has been in and out of your life, probably for many years.” Sean thought back to what Lucy had said about Dennis and Wade’s relationship, and how Wade protected his younger brother. “She didn’t like Dennis, was probably mean to him, but never around you because she knew you wouldn’t put up with it. Dennis would not have liked her.”

  “Dennis liked all my girlfriends,” Wade said. But he was thinking.

  Sean tried a different tactic. “You lost your license, but this is New York. Why have Dennis drive you to all the parties?”

  “I live on the Upper West Side. Most of the parties aren’t walking distance. I don’t take the subway, and I don’t care to walk to Brooklyn. Cabs are unreliable.”

  Sean hesitated. “Did Dennis take you to all the parties? Was he at the Haunted House where Alanna was killed?”

  Wade thought about it. “No. He wasn’t. That was the night before Halloween. Dennis gets scared easily.”

  Sean knew exactly who the Cinderella Strangler was.

  Lucy stared at the photocopy of the drawing that portrayed a mean-looking Dennis Barnett with Alanna the night she was killed. Suzanne and Panetta had pushed, but he never looked like this. But it was him; there was no doubt.

  Suzanne said, “I don’t know what to think.”

  “He could be lying. We need to push him on the last murder,” Panetta said. “He could have killed Hinkle to get his brother out of prison. Did it the same way because he’d watched his brother kill four other girls.”

  “No,” Lucy said. “Dennis didn’t kill anyone.”

  Panetta rubbed the back of his neck. “Ms. Kincaid, I appreciate your help, but all the evidence points to Wade Barnett and Dennis Barnett working together.”

  Suzanne said, “It seems so, but there’s really only one way to know for certain. We interview Kirsten Benton.”

  “She’s still unconscious,” Lucy said.

  “What did the doctor say about her prognosis?”

  “They’re changing her medication and he’s optimistic.”

  Panetta said, “We keep both of them in lockup until we can talk to her.”

  “We have no reason to hold Dennis,” Suzanne said.

  “We have a witness.”

  “We’ll need her to view a lineup.”

  Lucy only half listened to the conversation. “Suzanne, do you have the original drawing?”

  “It’s in the evidence room at my headquarters.”

  “Was it done in pencil?”

  “Um, charcoal is pencil, right?”

  “Charcoal was in the lungs of the first victim. Charcoal and gum.” Lucy pulled out her phone and did a quick search. Suzanne rose from her chair and paced, her hands rubbing the back of her neck. “Gum is a component of charcoal pencils used for drawings.”

  “That’s it,” Suzanne said. “That’s the personal connection. I didn’t see it before, but it makes complete sense. The final piece of the puzzle.”

  “What is?” Panetta asked.

  “That drawing—the artist is Whitney Morrissey. She was at the Haunted House party in Harlem. She’s Alanna Andrews’s cousin.”

  “Hold it,” Panetta said. “Are you saying a woman killed these girls?”

  Lucy nodded. “It fits everything I said before.”

  “But what you said also fits Dennis Barnett.”

  “Yes, but he wasn’t jealous of Wade’s girlfriends. He cared about Alanna in particular, and he saved Kirsten. Go ask him about Whitney.
”

  Suzanne walked into holding and saw Dennis Barnett in the corner, terrified. She told the guard to get him out.

  He leaned toward her and said, “I don’t like it here.”

  “I have one more question. Do you know Whitney Morrissey?”

  Dennis wrinkled his nose. “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “She’s one of Wade’s girlfriends. She doesn’t like me.”

  “Is your brother still dating her?”

  “No. Wade heard her say mean things about me. He broke up with her. Then he met Alanna and was happy.”

  “Did Whitney do anything to Wade? Threaten him?”

  Dennis shook his head. “She told him she was going to kill herself. But she didn’t. She called him all the time. He changed his number. Then she came to Charlie’s apartment for Wade’s birthday in September and made Charlie so mad that he took away the CJB grant he’d given her.”

  “Grant?”

  “For art. Charlie says ’cause we have a lot of money we need to give a lot of it away. I never knew our dad because I was a baby when he died, but he loved art so Charlie gives money to artists.”

  Dennis glanced back at the holding cell. “Please don’t make me go back in there.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m going to have a police officer take you home. But Dennis, no matter what, don’t leave your house until you hear from me, okay?”

  He crossed his heart with his index finger. “I promise.”

  THIRTY

  “Tell your boyfriend to stay far away from me,” Suzanne said to Lucy as they pulled up in front of Whitney Morrissey’s Brooklyn apartment.

  Suzanne had wanted to throttle Sean for talking to Wade Barnett, but then she’d have to take on a battle with the Washington Field Office and her liaison with Rikers. That her suspect wasn’t guilty meant squat—Sean had interfered with a federal murder investigation and was still in hot water with her.

  “He’s at the hospital with Kirsten and her mother,” Lucy said.

  “Tell me you didn’t know what he was up to,” Suzanne growled.

  “I didn’t.”

  “I’ll call you up when we secure the apartment.”

  Suzanne met Panetta outside the building. He said, “She’s either not in the apartment or not answering the door. I have officers at each exit.”