Tattoo Killer (A Tattoo Crimes Novel Book 1)

by A. J. Norris

  He took the cake from his daughter and set it on the kitchen counter. When he lifted the box lid, vanilla and chocolate aromas wafted up to his nose. The bakery kept his standing order every year. He didn't even need to call in. They just knew and called him when it was ready for pick-up. He read the inscription, Happy 54th Birthday, Annie. The lid floated down.

  “Dad? Are you all right?” Grace asked from over his right shoulder. A crooked smile plastered on his face as he pivoted.

  “Let's order a pizza. We can cut the cake later, if you still want,” he said.

  “Are you sure you're okay?”

  Harry waved off his daughter's concern.

  Natalie sat mutely at the kitchen table. Harry looked over at her and she didn't meet his gaze. He shrugged and grabbed the pizza coupons out of a drawer. “Deep dish. Pepperoni. Mushroom,” he said to no one in particular.

  “Fine,” Grace sighed. She and Harry both glanced in Natalie's direction.

  “Oh, I already ate. Nothing for me.”

  * * *

  After dinner, Harry leaned back in his chair and tossed his napkin onto his empty plate. He'd not spoken since he ordered the Chicago-style. He couldn't trust himself not to say something stupid or insulting toward Natalie. He did like her new hairstyle; she looked pretty. Harry had trouble thinking of her as a woman, a potential partner. Natalie had been Annie’s best friend. What would his late wife think if he asked her out? Slap him, she would. Wouldn't she?

  “Cake,” he muttered. Wasn't he a joy to be around right now?

  Yay, me.

  Grace wandered over to the counter and brought the cake back to the table. “Is there any ice cream?”

  Harry stared at a fake knot in the faux wood table top.

  “Dad?” When he didn’t answer; Grace cleared her throat.

  “Hmm? W-What?”

  “I asked if you had any ice cream.”

  He went to the freezer, looked inside, shut the door, and sat back down without speaking. The women gaped at him. “What?”

  Grace and Natalie looked from him to each other.

  “Oh. There's no ice cream.”

  “I'm sure we both figured that out,” Natalie said. Their eyes met. She searched his face. He suspected she wouldn't find much life there. Grace plopped a piece of the devil's food on a plate and handed it to him. The only reason he picked up a fork was Grace.

  Natalie’s hands clapped together and startled him. “Gimme a big piece, Grace. I've been waiting all day for this.”

  “Okay, here you go.” Grace handed the slice and a fork to her. Natalie dug in. Apart from the chewing, silence filled the room.

  “The cake is wonderful,” Natalie commented.

  “Uh hmmm, I love their cakes,” Grace agreed. “So, Dad? I won't be able to make the movie this weekend we talked about seeing.”

  Harry looked at her in confusion. He didn't remember them making any plans. “Wha…”

  Grace wide-eyed him so he closed his mouth. “Yeah, so I was thinking it might be a nice idea if the two of you went instead.”

  “Grace, I don't think Mrs. McGregor wants to go out with me. She probably already has plans.”

  “No I don't,” Natalie immediately said. “I would love to.”

  Harry groaned internally. “I already have plans this weekend.”

  “With who? Cedric? You can break them. I'm sure he won't mind.”

  He picked at his cake. “It's not with him.”

  “Who could you possibly have plans with other than him?” Grace asked.

  Harry pushed himself up from the table. “I'm going to go lie down.”

  Grace’s chair scraped over the tile. “Dad?”

  He raised his hand to keep her from coming after him. “I'm fine. A little tired.” He walked away and was nearly out of the kitchen when Natalie spoke.

  “Harry, there's something I've been waiting to say for a long time…” She paused and looked at Grace as if to apologize for what was coming next. Harry held his breath. “I've sat back for ten years and waited for you. Watched you parade a string of unworthy, bimbos through here.” Grace inhaled sharply; Natalie glanced at her. “I've never said anything, but I can no longer stand it.”

  “Natalie, you don't know what you're talking about, my father has never brought any—”

  “Oh please, your father is still attractive. He may not want me, but he certainly has had plenty of women over here.”

  Grace’s face fell. All the color drained out. It was a look Harry could have done without.

  “Dad? Tell me she's wrong. That you haven’t been having sex with other women, pretending to be heartbroken. Making me feel guilty.”

  Harry threw his hands up. “Do you want me to lie?”

  “You already have been lying to me. For years.” Grace wiped her face on her napkin and tossed it onto her plate.

  “I have not, Gracie.”

  “Don't Gracie me. You don't get to Gracie me. You certainly have never told me you go on dates. That's a lie by omission. You've had me believe you've been pining for Mom all these years.” She rose from the table.

  “I have; don't you see?” Harry pleaded with his daughter.

  “He has. And it's been the most pitiful thing to watch.” Natalie said evenly. When Harry eyes darted to Natalie’s face, her eyes were shiny. He knew her intention wasn’t to cause a rift between Grace and him. It was funny how now in this moment, he wanted to hold Natalie; brush her cheek with his fingertips.

  Grace grabbed her purse off the counter and fled without another word. The front door slammed, rattling the house.

  RING!

  “Now what?”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  Mikey

  This was becoming a real problem. This time when Mikey was shoved into an interrogation room, he asked to speak with Detective Hunter first thing. Cheap Suit burst into the room with a hard expression on his face.

  Harry narrowed his eyes on Mikey. “You're making a real habit of this and it's starting to piss me off.”

  Mikey splayed out wrist-cuffed hands on the table. “I didn't do anything.”

  “Wife says—”

  “Ex-wife.”

  “Your wife says you threatened her life.”

  Mikey glared at the detective. “Yeah, and what did Nosy-pants across the street say? She heard the whole damn thing.”

  “Did you threaten her?”

  “No. But I did tell her that someone should punch her in the nose.”

  Harry laughed humorlessly. “You're something else.”

  “That’s what I hear. Look, I didn't touch her and I wouldn't. She's limiting my time with my son. We have a shitty order that we haven't gone by in years.”

  “Mmm hmm. So you thought it was a good idea to pick a fight with her?”

  “Every conversation with her ends in a fight. She's nuts. You can't have a normal conversation with her.”

  “Well, someone called it in.”

  Mikey stared at him with wide eyes. “Wait, what time was that?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Nosy-pants was on her porch the whole time I was talking to Cynthia.”

  Harry opened the folder with the report he'd laid on the table. “Four forty-three, log says.”

  “Mmm,” Mikey grunted. “I checked the time right when I got to Cynthia's house. It was four-forty-one.”

  “How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

  “Have I lied to you yet?” The cuffs clanked on the metal table.

  Harry let out a long sigh. A few moments of silence passed between them. “Do me a favor, Hardin, abide by the custody order in place and stay away from your ex unless you're picking up or dropping off your son.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Grace

  Grace paced her living room floor. Mikey was supposed to have called her by five, after dropping off his son at his ex-wife’s house. It was past seven o’cloc
k now. She’d sent a text to him at six but got no response and refrained from sending another message.

  Her phone chirped at seven forty-six. The text from Mikey read:

  Sorry got caught up. Meet at Hector’s in 15?

  She typed:

  Ok.

  Grace waited in the same booth from the night they first met. A man sat himself down opposite her, two booths away. No one occupied the seats in between. He stared at her with an intense scrutiny that unnerved her. Five times, she read the paper placemat covered in advertisements, avoiding his eyes. Every time she breathed, he seemed to breathe in sync with her.

  Oh my, God. What’s up with this guy?

  Her body flushed with alarm. His face seemed familiar. Or maybe he simply looked like a stereotypical child molester. Where the heck was Mikey? The clock behind the cash register displayed 8:25.

  The bells over the door jangled and Mikey walked in with damp hair. Grace relaxed and hoped he blocked the creepy stare-down guy’s face.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Mikey said and sat down.

  “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.” Grace faked being upset; she was relieved he showed up even if it was late.

  “I know.” He grabbed a menu from behind the condiments.

  “Where were you? I thought you dropped Brayden off at quarter to five.”

  “Dealing with my ex’s bullshit. I’m really sorry. If I could’ve called earlier I would’ve.”

  “Oh. Like what kind of BS?” God, she was grateful she didn’t have kids with her ex-husband.

  Mikey waved her off. “Nothing. You don’t wanna hear about it.”

  “You can talk to me about it. I don’t mind.” Grace wished he would. He didn’t talk about his past much. He loved his son though, that she could tell. Which was one of his more endearing qualities. “I take it she gives you a pretty hard time?”

  He sighed heavily and ran a palm over his square jawline. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “What kinds of things does she do?”

  Mikey snorted. “I really don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

  “Is it about Brayden?”

  “No. Please, can you leave it alone? It’s my problem and I’ll deal with it.” He reached across the table and held her hands in his.

  “I want to help.”

  “I know, and thanks, but there isn’t anything you can do.” Mikey frowned and glanced around the restaurant.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think we need to find a new place. Remember that waitress from the first night we met, the one with the pink hair?”

  “Jennifer? Oh yeah, you’re right. I forgot.” Grace recalled the news report and her father’s warning.

  “May I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?” a waitress asked.

  Grace hadn’t been aware the girl was standing there. She glanced and read the name tag. “Thanks. I don’t think we’re staying, Mary.”

  “Okay.” Mary furrowed her brow.

  Mikey spoke up. “It’s not you. We…”

  “Oh, I know, you’re not the first to come and leave. You knew her, didn’t you?” Mary asked, putting her order pad into the pocket of her apron.

  Mikey nodded and led Grace toward the exit. She could get used to Mikey's hand on her lower back. It comforted her and made her feel precious. Memories of her past relationships with less than chivalrous men gave her the willies. Mikey turned out to be the best risk she'd ever taken. Granted, she hadn't known him for long, but he was definitely worth investing more time with.

  The man who was checking her out when she first got there glowered at her as they neared his booth. Well, it seemed that way. She fell in behind Mikey and nearly slammed into him when he stopped at the creep’s table.

  “Hey, man. Didn't know you ate here,” Mikey said.

  “I usually hang around here on Sunday nights too,” the guy answered. His eyes darted to Grace’s face and he nodded once. “Mondays too.”

  Grace thought back to the Monday she met Mikey. Several people had come in the restaurant that night. Every time the door opened she had looked up because of the bells. She may have seen him that night although she couldn’t be certain.

  “Yeah…uh…” Mikey seemed nonplussed for a moment. “Okay.”

  Grace squeezed his forearm. He placed a hand on top of hers. She wanted to get away from this weirdo.

  “Oh, Grace, this is Cody. He’s a client of mine. Cody, this is Grace Bell, my girlfriend.” Why did he tell him her last name?

  “Nice to meet you,” she said without looking at him.

  “Yes. Likewise,” Cody said flatly.

  “Well listen, it was nice to see you, man,” Mikey said.

  Grace shifted her weight on her feet. She couldn't wait to get outside and into Mikey's car.

  After another round of short exchanges, they were outside. The summer air hit her face and she wavered on her feet for a moment, clinging to Mikey's side. Cody made her uneasy. Maybe it was the expression he'd had on his face when he said ‘likewise’ or that he looked like a serial rapist. Okay, she'd been watching reruns of Criminal Minds lately, but come on. The guy looked like he could be Jeffrey Dahmer’s doppelgänger.

  “How do you know that guy?” Grace asked, standing with Mikey next to her car. She shivered.

  “One of my regulars. I wouldn’t say I know him.” His lips brushed her forehead.

  “Good. He gives me the creeps.”

  Mikey chuckled. “You’re not the only one.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Mikey

  “Are you ever going to let me in?” Grace asked.

  Mikey scratched his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about that something is obviously bothering you. You’ve been quiet since we left the restaurant. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  Mikey grumbled under his breath. “Like I told you before, it's nothing you need to worry about. It's my ex. She says I can only see my son once a month now.”

  “Can she do that?”

  “Yeah. The order we have in place says I only get him one weekend a month even though we haven't gone by that schedule in years.”

  “Why all of a sudden?”

  “Because she can. I don't know.”

  Liar.

  He knew why, but the reason was bullshit and he couldn't tell her about it. Their relationship was barely getting started. What was he supposed to say? Hey, by the way I'm uh, being looked at as a potential serial killer. Not going to happen. He would reflect on this moment later as the time he should've perhaps mentioned it. In passing.

  Confusion washed over her face for a few moments, then she said, “Oh, I'm sorry. Is there anything you can do?”

  Mikey didn’t answer. It wasn't worth trying to explain why he wasn't running out and hiring an attorney to fight his ex yet. “I don't want to think about it right now.” He ambled over to her. She was seated on her kitchen counter, and he settled in between her parted knees. A guttural groan escaped him. He slid her bohemian style skirt up her creamy thighs. “I'd rather think about these legs and…this.” He slipped his hand around to her core. Her cotton bikinis were drenched. He pushed her panties to the side and she opened further for him with a soft, whimpering moan. He pushed a finger inside her and found her G-spot. Mikey worked her as he kissed up the side of her neck, sucking and flicking his tongue over her skin. He nipped at her earlobe then started on the other side. When he pulled his hand away, she grabbed the hair on the back of his head.

  “No,” she said breathlessly. “I need you in me.”

  He smiled crookedly. “You have too many clothes on.” The boho skirt and her underwear where the first to go. Leaning her back, he helped get them out from underneath her and off. The soft fabric didn't make a sound when it dropped to the floor. He nudged the clothes aside with his foot. When he looked up again she was completely naked, having pulled off her tank top with a built-in br
a.

  Oh God.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her feverishly until they were not only panting, but gasping. She unzipped his fly. He needed to get his jeans and boxer briefs low enough to…

  “Oh…yes…that's it,” he told her as she stroked him with her hand. “I want you now.” Mikey had never been so grateful for his height. He tugged her hips forward and whispered next to her ear. “Let me go get a condom.”

  “That’s a good idea,” she breathed.

  He returned with the whole box. She giggled and he silenced her with a kiss. “Just a sec.” Mikey rolled on the raincoat and entered her, easily gliding past her feminine folds. The friction. Oh, the warmth that surrounded his cock…oh God…

  “Do me,” she whispered.

  “Yes, ma'am.” His hands slipped around her bottom and as he yanked her forward more, pistoning into her. She cried out his name. Over and over he slammed into her. Their breath sawed in and out to the point of agony. But who needed to breathe anyway? Neither of them cared or wanted to stop.

  “Mikey! Oh…G-god!” She pulsed all around his diamond hard shaft. Her body shuddered as she held onto his shoulders, fingers digging in.

  “I'm going to come….oh fuck!” He held on tight, erupting inside her, alternating between seizing and going slack.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  Grace

  Technically tonight was Mikey and Grace’s third date, but could you really count having pizza and sex as a second date? Or maybe this was their fourth date since they’d shared a table for a meal the night they met. The comfort level she experienced with him made her feel they had known each other for a long time. They had spent hours talking on the phone in between dates.

  Mikey looked even more gorgeous than before. She studied his profile while he drove. They were in his car on the way to see a movie.

  The streetlights highlighted his face. She liked everything about this man, even his tattoos. They weren’t dumb pointless skeletons or daggers. What was another overdone tattoo? Koi? Oh, and Chinese characters. He had birds; she loved birds. Mikey valued freedom and individuality.