Tattoo Killer (A Tattoo Crimes Novel Book 1)

by A. J. Norris

  “I hear he’s going to be okay.”

  Grace wiped her tears with the tissue Brayden handed her. “Thanks. You’re really a great kid, you know that?”

  “Uh huh. Someone has to be the adult around here.”

  Everyone awake laughed, including Brayden.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  Harry

  The door off Natalie’s kitchen was usually unlocked when she was home. This morning Harry found the house locked up tight. He even tried the front entrance. He could have sworn he saw her pull into the driveway earlier. Not that he’d been spying on her or anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

  He forced himself to ring her doorbell instead of running away like a pansy. The past couple of weeks weighed on his mind. Over and over he’d worked out how he was going to ask her out.

  His palms sweated. Harry swallowed hard and pushed the button. His phone rang in his pocket.

  Christ.

  When he saw the number he turned around and answered the call.

  “Yeah, this is Harry,” he clipped. The door whooshed opened but he was too rapt in listening to the shit the other person was saying to him to greet Natalie.

  “What!” He cursed under his breath. “I can’t believe it. Is he awake yet? Medically induced coma, I see. Fuck…we’ll see.”

  He’s gonna wish he was never born.

  “Yeah, I hear you. Keep me in the loop if anything changes.” He stood facing the road after he ended the call. “Jesus. Christ.” He looked to the sky and ran his palms down his face.

  The screen door creaked as Natalie eased it open. “What’s going on?” she asked, stepping outside.

  “That fucker survived.”

  “Who?”

  “Cody Pollard, or whatever the fuck his damn name is.”

  She paled. “What…is he—”

  “Oh, he’s in ICU, but still breathing. Doctors say he’s going to be paralyzed.”

  “Good, he’ll never be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

  Harry sneered. “That’s not good enough.”

  “He hurt your daughter, of course you wish him dead,” Natalie said. “But sometimes less than what you want is okay too. Sometimes it is good enough.”

  His gaze met hers. What was she really talking about here? “Well, maybe less than what you want isn’t good enough.”

  “What are you talking about? Revenge?”

  “What? No. I was talking about us, Nat. Us.”

  “There’s an us?” She folded her arms across her chest. “There’s no us.”

  “Yeah, there is…” He stepped closer to her. Very close. Natalie uncrossed her arms. His hand found one of hers and he put it up to his lips. She blushed.

  She yanked her hand out of his grasp. “Harry Hunter, quit teasing me.”

  “I’m not.” His words came out harsher than he’d intended. She spun on her heel and marched back toward the house. The door squeaked as it swung open. Harry caught the door and followed her inside. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me, us?”

  “I do!”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “Are you going to keep seeing your sluts?”

  “No, only you. You’re the only slut I want. I mean, the only one I want.”

  “I knew what you meant!” Her eyes flared.

  Harry neared her; she stepped back until her backside hit the wall in the foyer. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

  Her eyes focused on his mouth and her lips parted. “Ah, what about Annie?”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s…”

  “This isn’t about her. I want you.”

  Harry waited for her to nod and then pressed his lips to hers.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Grace

  Mikey came home from the hospital two weeks after his surgery. Grace smiled at him from the other end of the couch. Brayden had already gone to bed.

  “So what’s this you and my son have planned?” He smiled crookedly.

  “He wants it to be a surprise. He wants to remember his mother in a way that will make others happy too.” She wanted to tell him, but promised Brayden she wouldn’t say anything.

  “He said that?”

  “Not in so many words, but he knows how you felt about her. He’s not an idiot.”

  Mikey snorted. “I know. I wish he didn’t.”

  Grace slid over next to him. “I think a part of him understands and he’ll figure it out someday or…not.” She took his hand. “It doesn’t matter, Mikey, at least not to me. I didn’t know her and from the sounds of it, we wouldn’t have been friends.”

  Mikey chuckled and squeezed her hand. Grace could tell he wanted to say more but decided to leave whatever was on his mind unsaid. They enjoyed the background noise the TV provided, though neither of them watched the movie.

  “Why did you come back? We never really talked about that.”

  “What Brayden said that morning at breakfast? That I loved you? He was right.” She shrugged.

  “So, um, are you saying you love me?”

  She smiled. “No, I’m saying that’s what Brayden said. Yes, silly, I love you.”

  “How’d that happen? What’s wrong with you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you love me?”

  “Hey, I’m just asking.”

  She shoved his hand back at him. He winced and sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Ow—oh.”

  “Oh crap, are you all right? I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s all right,” he eked out barely above a whisper. “I still love you.”

  Carefully, she leaned over him and kissed his lips.

  “That’s not what hurts, but I like it.” He wasn’t breathing normally and his eyes were closed.

  “You’re in pain.”

  “Don’t…care. I want…you.”

  Grace shook her head. “You’re incredible, you know that? Incredible.”

  “I get it. I love you. Now kiss me.”

  CHAPTER

  SIXTY-NINE

  Harry

  A picture posted on the six o’clock news of the man dubbed the tattoo killer because of his connection to Ink Addiction tattoo parlor. Mikey’s business received a spike with people wanting a tattoo from the shop a serial killer frequented. Go figure.

  Harry hadn’t wanted to post a picture of the killer and give him any more fame except the guy refused to talk and give up his real name. Admitting defeat was something Harry disliked. He didn’t have a lot of hope they would discover Cody’s true identity without the use of a tip line.

  God help us.

  The designated email box flooded with people claiming they knew something concrete but the leads never panned out. He checked the folder one last time before leaving for the day, scrolling through the long list of subject titles.

  His chair creaked as he sat up straighter when one of the emails caught his attention. In the middle of the bullshit emails, one stood out.

  I KNOW CODY POLLARD

  Harry immediately called the phone number included in the email. Mary Williams answered on the first ring.

  “This is Detective Hunter, we received your email regarding Cody Pollard.”

  “Is he…is he all right?” she asked, her voice cracking. “The news didn’t say much.”

  Harry didn’t answer the question, but asked if she would come down to the station.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Just come down, we have a few questions to ask you.”

  Mary showed up thirty minutes later all teary-eyed. Harry brought her into an interrogation room. She started sobbing the second he closed the door. He went back to the squad room and asked a female officer to come back into the room with him.

  “You said you know Cody Pollard?”

  “Yes. He’s my boyfriend,” Mary said, fiddling the gold cross around her neck.

  Harry had to wonder why she bothered to email. Maybe
morality over loyalty, given her necklace. “We have reason to believe Cody isn’t his real name.” Harry didn’t want to come out and say they had no clue as to his real name. However, the bastard was impervious to interrogation techniques. Harry had never seen anything like it. They’d tried everything to make him crack.

  Mary blinked at him and nodded after a long moment of staring at the table. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card, her fingers trembling. Harry took the card and read it.

  Cyber Systems Corp.

  Lance Woolley, Senior Programmer

  “I f-found this card on the floor in my house after the last time he was over. I was going to give the card back when I saw him again. I didn’t know if he needed it or not.”

  “Thank you, Miss Williams.” Harry was willing to bet Lance was Cody’s real name.

  “Is he all right?”

  “He’s been charged with homicide.”

  Tears fell from her face. Harry felt sorry for the girl and at the same time relieved that she wouldn’t be Lance’s next victim. “Is there anything else you can tell me about your boyfriend?”

  “He had the name Jennifer tattooed on his arm.” She turned her wrist over. “Cody” had been inked on the inside of her wrist. Harry smirked involuntarily and would wager Mikey had been the artist.

  Harry already knew about Cody’s arm but still shivered as he pictured the tattoo. Cynthia’s name was absent and it occurred to him that Grace’s name could have made it on that bastard’s skin. Good thing he hadn’t eaten recently. His stomach lurched.

  Mary Williams left twenty minutes later, lucky to have survived even if she couldn’t quite appreciate it yet.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  Mikey

  Five weeks after the stabbing, Mikey assembled as many people as he could to support Brayden. He looked around at all the faces and his eyes watered. Brad and Andrea, Davis, his neighbor from across the street, Harry and Natalie, and of course, Grace, had come to the Botanical Park Gardens to help his son pay tribute to his mother.

  Brayden and Grace planned the whole thing together and he’d also found out she’d paid for everything. This bothered him somewhat. When he’d insisted on paying her back, she proceeded to argue with him. He threw his hands up and told her he’d pay her back in one form or another.

  Although the affair was supposed to be casual, that didn’t stop the ladies from overdressing. Mikey glanced down at the t-shirt and jeans he wore. He held Grace’s hand as they walked to the newly expanded section of the park.

  Brayden ran ahead of the adults. When he realized everyone lagged behind he stopped. “Come on…this way.”

  “We’re coming. What’s the hurry?” Mikey asked. Brayden only stamped his feet.

  “He’s excited and wants to show everybody. Humor him and try to relax,” Grace said.

  “I’m relaxed.”

  Grace gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” Mikey spun around in alarm.

  She laughed. “See? Not relaxed.”

  “That’s not funny. You know I’m still fucked up about what happened.”

  Harry gave Grace a disapproving look too. He’d reacted in the same manner as Mikey.

  Her face reddened. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You’re right, I am on edge.” Mikey sighed deeply.

  Grace kissed his cheek. “Forgive me,” she whispered next to his mouth. “I know you want this to be over.”

  “I don’t like seeing my son upset.” Although, Brayden seemed anything but upset. He looked happy to be celebrating Cynthia’s life.

  Brayden finally stopped at the picnic pavilion. The long tables were covered in linen tablecloths. The smell of garlic and chocolate reached Mikey’s nose. Brad and Andrea had Cocoa’s cater a dinner? Now tears welled and threatened to spill over. He loved his friends. Mikey opened his arms and Brayden ran into him.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too.”

  Grace rubbed his back as he held his son. The other women in attendance sniffled.

  Brayden broke the embrace first. “Before we eat, I want to show you what we did. I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will, Bray.” Mikey wiped his eyes with his thumbs. Brayden led him to a circular garden set inside boxwood hedges. Growing out of the middle was a weeping willow tree with pink blossoms hanging down and peace lilies planted around the base. Cynthia would have loved it. Also nestled at the base of the tree was a plaque which read:

  ‘In Loving Memory of My Mom

  Cynthia Hardin.’

  Brayden cleared his throat and everyone turned their attention toward him. He waited for everyone to stop talking, the expression on his face serious. Mikey thought he might cry until his son opened his mouth.

  “Thank you for coming, now let’s eat. Andrea, did you remember the red velvet brownie that’s mine and Grace’s favorite?”

  Mikey tilted his head back and laughed. “I thought you were going to say something about your mom.”

  Brayden shrugged. “Naw, she knew how I felt about her. I just wanted everyone to see the tree.”

  Mikey chuckled. “Well, it’s great and she would’ve loved it.”

  “I love it too,” Grace said.

  Brayden smiled, took her hand, and placed it in Mikey’s. “You should always hold hands. I think that was what happened with Mom. You guys didn’t hold hands enough. Dad, I like Grace and I don’t want you to screw things up.”

  “Yes, sir. Understood,” Mikey said and kissed his girlfriend.

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  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank my supportive family, friends, and readers. Without you, none of this would be possible. I’m grateful for your continued encouragement and belief in me.

  I'd also like to thank my editor, Felicia A. Sullivan, who I suspect never sleeps, and the Limitless Team.

  About the Author

  A.J. Norris is a lover of all books but her loyalty remains with her first crush; romance. She graduated from a mid-western college with a degree in absolutely nothing to do with writing whatsoever. It wasn’t until well after college when the build-up of voices inside her head became too overwhelming and needed to be let out, that she began to write. She isn’t following a family legacy of writers, only a need to put words on a piece of paper.

  A.J. is a movie buff, especially book adaptations, loves watching her son play baseball and communing with other writers. She lives with her family who are extremely tolerant (at least most of the time) of all her late nights behind the computer, clack clacking away.

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