Well that's a first. What happened to the dirty jokes and leering gazes that she knew and loved? Her eyes stung at his lack of interest, but she shook her head in an effort to shake it off.
He's just working, that's all. A hot shower will help. She peeled off her clothes, leaving a stinky trail all the way to the spacious bathroom. Her mind whirled with the latest developments in the case. The “gift” was just the beginning, she thought, turning the knob to the hottest setting and waiting a moment before stepping in. The water beat down on her neck and shoulders, massaging her sore muscles. Her moment of respite didn't last long.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
Her phone vibrated on the sink beside the shower. She shut off the water and stepped out with a towel loosely wrapped around her body. Her caller ID read Mike—her friend and source at the FBI.
“Hey, Mike. I was just thinking of you.”
“Yeah, sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. The BCU’s working on a big case and they need all hands on deck this week.”
Annabeth tightened the towel and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. I look like crap. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. Do you have some new information?”
A long pause followed. The silence on the other line began to concern her.
“You still there, Mike?”
He cleared his throat and sighed. “Yeah, I got a call yesterday from my guy with the first precinct in Austin, an old timer, he said that they were able to ID the girl by her DMV fingerprint. Her name’s Amy Rangel.”
They killed her. She felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. No, not Amy. Her eyes pricked and burned with tears that she didn't bother to wipe away. A short sob escaped her tightly clamped lips.
“I’m sorry, Anna.”
She closed her eyes and took a gasping breath before talking. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“I was able to snag the ME’s report. From what I read, there is a good chance that the police are going to request our assistance on this case. They’re completely stumped. I’m going to look over the records and see if there aren’t any other body dumps that might have occurred over the last few years. Maybe I’ll get lucky and be able to make a good case for FBI involvement.”
“What did the examiner find?” She swallowed hard and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, steeling herself for more bad news. He didn’t know that she had known Amy, had drinks with her. How she had let the case get personal. Hadn't that been why the FBI had asked her to step away? The sound of ruffling papers broke her train of thought.
“The cause of death was strangulation. A fine gauge wire was used. According to the report there was also significant post mortem predation, which is making the time of death hard to pinpoint. There were no signs of exposure, which means she was probably kept indoors, but in a place with lots of rats, like an abandoned building or factory. There were also traces of chemicals on the body and the material they used to wrap it up in, but it hasn’t been identified yet. And as I’m sure you suspected all along, there was evidence of sexual assault, although no fluids were found.”
Annabeth trembled as she listened to the grisly details. Law enforcement officers were trained to switch off their emotions during a case, but sometimes the cases got to her anyway. Once again, another young woman had died because Annabeth hadn’t been fast enough. A tremor ran through her and she sank down on the toilet seat so she didn’t fall. The men must have made a mistake. Bad guys always did. “What about prints or fibers?”
“No prints and her body showed signs of having been cleaned. Her nails had been scrubbed and clipped. Even her hair had been washed.”
“They washed her hair?” Annabeth touched her own wet hair and a chill ran down her spine.
“Yeah, they were very careful. Even the trace amounts of chemicals that were found on her skin are hard to identify. They might not have enough of it to get any answers.”
Annabeth leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees. Had Fin left her any clues to where they were holding up, and where they were keeping the young women? She needed more information. “Anything else?”
Mike cleared his throat and his voice dropped to an almost whisper. “There is something...”
Annabeth felt torn. She needed as much intel as possible in order to save the other girls, but she also didn't want Mike to lose his job over a case that would have been solved already if she hadn't messed it up. “It’s okay if that's all you can tell me, Mike—”
“It’s just that it might be better if you come forward and share what you know with the police. They can’t really move forward with their investigation because they don’t know why the girl was wrapped up like a present and left under a pine tree on three-sixty like a gift from Santa. You could at least tell them that the dead girl was for you. I know I can’t tell you how to do your job, but—.”
“I’ll think about it, Mike.” Her stomach roiled at the prospect of going against her boss’s wishes. What if Fin made good on his threats to hurt her friends and family if she went to the police? Eventually she would have to go to them, but she needed to make sure the timing was right to minimize the consequences.
“If the FBI becomes involved, I’ll try and get assigned to the case, okay? But you know that would end our little information sharing relationship...” Muffled sound of voices in the background followed a short silence. “Look, I gotta run, but I’ll call you if I hear anything else. I told my guy to keep an eye out for us.”
“Thank you for all your help. I know you’re taking a huge risk here, and I really appreciate it.”
Mike sighed. “My ASAC’s hollering. We’ll talk later. Maybe we can meet up for dinner or something? I’ll text you later. Bye.”
The line went dead. She dropped her phone onto the counter and dressed quickly in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She dreaded it, but she knew she needed to tell Marcus about Amy. Maybe the FBI had been right. Maybe I'm not cut out for this...
She stepped out into the living room where Marcus still sat hunched over his makeshift desk. He turned to see her come in and took off his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and opened his eyes slowly.
He’s been working too hard...
“Babe, I think I found…” Marcus stopped what he was doing and looked her in the eye. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He turned his wheelchair and rolled up beside her.
When he offered her his hand, she took it. She looked down at their joined hands, her pale— almost translucent—skin stood out in stark contrast against his mocha coloring.
“Amy is dead.” Her voice trembled a little despite her best efforts to keep herself together. “Mike called. They...they ID-ed her body yesterday.”
“Have any of the other girls turned up dead?” He squeezed her hand.
She shook her head while biting her lip to keep from bawling.
“Do you think she tried to escape like that other girl?”
He didn’t know because she hadn’t told him about the messages. The burden of keeping the whole truth from him was proving to be too much. Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and let the last of her distrust in him fall to the wayside. “No.” She looked away from his probing gaze and instead scrutinized the fine white hairs that grew on her arm. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Marcus let go of her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “What?”
Annabeth wet her lips and clasped her trembling hands in her lap. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about what happened after the gala.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes and frowned back at her.
I have to tell him…
“Well…?”
She looked away and let the confession fall from her lips along with the tears that slid down her cheek. “Fin’s been contacting me every day.”
His intense gaze bore through her, making her feel worse than she already felt. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.”
&
nbsp; Marcus’s eyes slid closed and he inhaled deeply. As he exhaled, he opened his eyes again. “Yeah. You should have told me. How am I supposed to trust you if you aren’t being honest with me?”
Her cheeks grew hot and she looked away. “I’m sorry. I really messed this up.”
“I don’t understand why you kept this from me. Was something going on between you two?”
She looked him directly in the eye and reached out to touch his knee. “No, nothing.”
Marcus’s eyebrows formed an angry V. “Then why didn’t you tell sooner?”
Annabeth choked back a sob. She hated to lose control of her emotions, especially in front of other people, but everything had been building up to this point and the tears came against her will.
“He’s been threatening me to not tell you about the calls and text messages. And…And…I didn’t want to admit to you how much I had screwed up.”
Marcus let out a huff and looked away from her. “Anna...”
“If you’d read what he wrote to me or heard his messages, you’d have done the same thing. I’m in over my head and these girls are dead because of me. I couldn’t afford for anyone else to be hurt, too.” Her voice rose, and the control she so desperately wanted to get back continued to unravel.
“Anna...” He reached across and clasped her hands between his.
“It’s true. If I’d been a better investigator, Amy and the others would still be alive, Vi wouldn’t have gotten shot, and our suspect would be in police custody, not six feet under.”
Marcus brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them. “Babe, I know things haven’t turned out the way we hoped, but this isn’t all your fault.” He wiped away her tears. “We’re in this together. I need you to trust me to help you. Okay?”
She nodded and looked up as he leaned forward and brushed her lips with a quick kiss. She did need to trust him, she knew that. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and handed it over to him. “I didn’t delete the messages or texts. It’s all there.”
He took the phone from her and placed it on his lap. “All right, I’ll look at it later. I’ve hit an impasse with my research. This Fin guy has done a great job covering his tracks. It would be awesome if I could get a handle on their home or work computers.” He rolled over to his makeshift desk and pulled up one of the browsers he’d been looking at when she came in.
Annabeth got up from the chair and squatted down by the computer screen. “So…you want to us to rob them?”
“Well, didn’t they break into our house?” He shrugged and a hint of a smile danced across his lips.
“Marcus!”
This was starting to go too far. Just because Heather worked for one of the companies didn’t mean that she had anything to do with the organization. They couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions.
Marcus crossed his arms across his chest. “Babe, maybe we should focus on the other businesses,” he said. “I’m still digging into them, but the tech company is the most suspicious of them all. At least financially speaking. I mean, I can’t imagine that she doesn’t notice the super clean books or question the large bonus checks that only she, the CEO and CFO get.”
“I know you’re right, it’s just…how much does she know?”
Marcus sighed. “I don’t know…but it’s your day off, I figured you could follow her today.” He tossed his phone to her. “Use mine while I catch up on the messages from our target.”
Annabeth caught the phone and pushed it into her back pocket. “I’ll call you if I find anything.” She slipped on her shoes and rushed out the door to her car. Marcus’s revelation had her head spinning. Jesse claimed to always know what was going on with everyone. If his wife was involved in the organization, wouldn't he know? Annabeth shook her head. Only way to find out was to check it out for herself.
Chapter Fifteen
Vi
Vi sat at her kitchen table, sipping a fresh cup of scalding hot coffee. Another week had come and gone and she had spent the majority of it asleep. The doctors had upped her physical therapy regimen in an effort to help her build her strength back up in her bad arm. “Besides the PT appointments, I think maybe returning to dance could help with your recovery. How about ballet? Would you be open to taking a barre class to help you build your strength back up?” her doctor had suggested.
Her physician was one of the few people who remembered that Vi had turned down a full-ride ballet scholarship to Juilliard after her parents died and she’d become Joy’s sole guardian. The most recent test results said that her body was healing and therefore put in question the self-reported pain scale number she gave them at each appointment.
“It’s time to wean you off the medication, Violeta.”
Vi hid her trembling hands in her lap. “But I’m still hurting.”
The doctor wet her lips and paused for a moment. “I know it seems backward but the more dependent you become on your medication, the more likely the pain will stay with you. The pills lose their effect over time and you’ll require more to relieve the pain.”
I don’t care what she says, this isn’t just in my head.
Vi sucked in her lower lip. She was running low on pills. She wouldn’t be able to keep up her current over dosage schedule on what she had left. “Can I have a refill in the meantime?”
Her doctor reached across and cupped Vi’s trembling hands in her own steady ones. “You should have plenty left for the new schedule I want you to be on, so no—no refills.”
The doctor’s resounding no sliced through her. At first she had been angry at the doctor’s audacity but now—after the dust of the news had settled—she began to wonder if her dependency on the drugs had gotten out of hand. She only half-listened as he discussed acupuncture, massage, and other more holistic alternatives.
She swirled the milky brown coffee in her cup, mesmerized by the motion. It had been four hours since she had taken her last pill. The pain fought for space in her mind, pleading with her to take a pill and go back to bed, but she pushed the thoughts aside and rode out the waves of agony. Her stomach cramped and the muscles in her arms and legs were sore. At first she’d freaked out about the new symptoms and even called her doctor, who informed her that it might be because of her withdrawal from the narcotics.
“If it gets worse I can prescribe you an anti-convulsant,” she had told her. Withdrawal…the word rolled around in her tired and battered mind. That’s something drug addicts went through, not her. I’m not going to be some junkie.
Knock, knock. The hard rap shook her from the memories. Who the hell was at her door now?
She stretched her legs and stood up. A wave of nausea overcame her. She swallowed hard and took in a deep breath. The feeling passed and she went to answer the door. Jesse’s wife, Heather, stood in the spot where her welcome mat had been. It now sat in her garbage can, waiting for the weekly trash pickup.
Vi opened the door wider. “Heather, what a surprise.”
The other woman gave her a half-hearted smile. “Sorry to come by unexpectedly, but I had a free moment this morning and wanted to talk with you.”
Even though she and Jesse had been friends for years, she had only met Heather a handful of times. She’d always wondered if it bothered her that he had so many women friends. If she were Heather, she wouldn’t be comfortable with her man cozying up with other ladies—even if the relationships were all purely platonic. Well mostly platonic. Brooke and Jesse could get a little flirty sometimes...
Vi stepped aside to let her in. “Come on in. Please excuse the mess—”
Heather breezed right past her and glanced around. There really wasn’t any place to sit so Vi cleared off the sofa and one of the chairs. Heather grimaced and sat down on the chair at the very edge.
“What is it that you wanted to talk about with me, Heather?”
Heather leaned in towards Vi with a pasted on look of concern. “Yeah...so Jesse told me about your situation at work. How they might not take you
back after your leave.”
Of course he had told Heather. She was his wife after all. He probably shared everything with her.
“They’re worried about the funding they lost. I’m sure it’ll all work out just fine.”
Heather shook her head and handed Vi a card. “This is a lawyer friend of mine who said he’d take you on pro bono as a favor to me. He actually works at Brooke’s husband’s firm. I filled him in on the gist of the situation and he is expecting your call.”
Ugh...is Brooke now trying to help me through Jesse and his wife?
Vi’s phone played the first few bars of Beethoven’s ninth symphony. “Sorry, that’s my sister. I need to take this.”
Heather nodded.
“Vi speaking.”
“Vi, I just wanted to update you on what the doctor said at Joy’s home visit today. He—”
“Kim, what are you talking about?”
“The doctor who made the home visit? Dr. Woodlands.”
“Kim, I didn’t request a home visit! I can’t afford that!” Vi twisted the hem of her shirt with her finger until it went numb.
Kim paused a moment. The sound of papers shuffling filled Vi’s ear. “The invoice says that everything has been paid for.”
“Let me guess, by Ms. Fischer.”
“No, actually. Since you sent that note a few weeks ago, I made sure and check beforehand.”
Vi let out an irritated sigh. Did Brooke find a loophole in trying to help me?
“Anyway... He gave her some oral steroids and said that should help get her over this hump.”
“Well, that’s good.” Vi unwound her finger from her shirt and the blood rushed back in, making it turn purple.
“Oh shoot, the Cook twins got ahold of the fire extinguisher again. I gotta run Vi. I’ll talk to you later.” The line went dead leaving Vi dumbfounded.
“Is everything okay?” Heather asked.
She got the impression that Jesse’s wife didn’t really care to hear the answer, so she lied. “It’s great. Thanks for stopping by.” Vi stood up. “I’ll be sure to give your friend a ring.”
Texas and Tiaras (The Book Cellar Mysteries 2) Page 9
