Schmidt nodded and turned for his car.
Julia watched as Annie clicked off her phone. “A black-haired woman by the name of Missy Andrews just went missing yesterday from outside of Missoula, Montana. A brown, 1990s panel van was seen close by at one point. No plates or real description.”
“So we either get lucky and stop him on the road,” Julia said, “or we find where he is baking these women and stop him there.”
Lott nodded. “And we do it in the next twenty-four hours to save that woman’s life.”
Julia just felt her stomach clamp up at that.
“No pressure,” Andor said.
“Yeah,” the chief said. “No pressure.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
August 14th, 2015
4:30 P.M.
Las Vegas
LOTT CAME OUT of Julia’s shower feeling much better. He had left a number of changes of clothes at her condo at her suggestion, since he often stayed there, and was now glad he did.
He had soaped and scrubbed his skin and hair more than he had done in years to make sure that smell was completely gone. The memory wouldn’t leave, but at least the smell would.
He had just finished dressing in jeans and a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and was combing his hair when Julia came in. She was wrapped in a towel and her face was red from all the sun.
“I put our clothes in the wash machine,” she said. “That might be a smell that will never come out.”
He didn’t honestly care. He might throw those clothes away even if the smell came out. Anything he could do to not remind himself of seeing that much death in one day would be a good thing.
She turned on the shower, checked the temperature, and then dropped the towel and climbed in while Lott watched.
In his opinion, she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever known. And if they hadn’t just spent the day finding more dead bodies than he wanted to think about, he might have offered to scrub her back right at that moment.
But he had a hunch she was as focused on this case as much as he was. And on saving that one woman they knew was headed in this direction and to a certain horrible death if they couldn’t stop it.
“I’ll be in the kitchen getting a snack,” Lott said to the showering woman.
“I won’t be long,” she half-shouted back.
He headed out of the bathroom, feeling almost human again.
The plan was that they would head for the Café Belagio after showering and getting changed to meet Doc and Fleet and Annie and Andor and plan what to do next.
In the last four hours, they had found all but one of the mines with women’s bodies. Schmidt and Jones had taken some of the mine locations, the chief and the other two detectives had taken part of the list. Lott and Julia and Annie and Andor had stayed in Lott’s car and taken another third of the list Annie had gotten from Fleet.
The four of them had found three more mines full of bodies.
It had been the chief and the detectives riding with him that had found the one only half full to the south and east of the city.
The chief had set up very discrete watching posts on both entrances to that canyon, hidden completely from view. No way that killer would get out of that canyon if he went in there.
The chief was also going to get officers in the State Police working the highways coming down from the north, watching for any sign of a brown panel van.
And his men were stationed, without knowing why, at all the major entrances to the city watching for the same thing.
And he had promised that nothing would be broadcast at all over any police channel.
Lott got into clean jeans, a long-sleeved white dress shirt, and put on new tennis shoes. More than likely after that smell, he was going to have to toss his favorite tennis shoes.
While he waited for Julia, he took out his small notebook and pen and sat down at her kitchen table overlooking the trees and lawn and pool common area below and started to write a list of things they didn’t know yet.
First, what was the connection between the original bus tragedy and the perp? There was no doubt in his mind there was a connection, but they hadn’t been able to find it yet.
Second were the unknown factors all the victims had in common besides black hair. He had a hunch there was more. There had to be.
Third, the question of the ownership of the mines. Did someone in that company have anything to do with this? And if so, who?
Fourth, where were the victims taken and how were they baked to death?
Fifth, why were the victim’s harvested for meat? Where did cannibalism come into play in this? Or was it even cannibalism? Was the women’s flesh being used for something else?
He stared at his list, his eye continuing to go back to the first question. The real key to locating this sick killer was that bus tragedy. If it really was a tragedy and not done on purpose. Why had that bus been so far away from where it had planned on going?
Julia came in while he was staring at the list and wrapped her arms around him and put her chin on his shoulder. She smelled wonderful, with a slight peach scent from the shampoo she used. She had on a light green blouse with a sports bra and jeans and new tennis shoes as well.
“Am I missing anything?” he asked, showing her the list he had been making.
“Underwear,” she said. “And why did Kirk need to be killed?”
He wrote both down, nodding.
“A lot of questions, that’s for sure,” he said.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to answer them before this sicko is in custody,” Julia said as Lott stood.
He looked at her as she stepped away and he stood, putting his notebook back in his pocket. “You think that has a chance of happening?”
“Not a chance in hell,” she said, shaking her head. “The person who has been doing this without getting caught for over fifteen years isn’t going to be pulled over in a standard traffic stop.”
“You think the brown panel van is stored up north somewhere?”
“Of course it is,” Julia said. “No chance a van that might be linked to an abduction is going to be driven right to this guy’s home and parked.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Lott said as they headed out and Julia locked the door behind her.
“So it’s up to us to save that woman’s life,” Julia said. “Because by the time the killer takes her to the mine and gets caught that way, she will be very, very dead.”
“The chief can’t sit on this long enough for even that to happen,” Lott said as they headed down the stairs. “There are a lot of crime scenes in that desert at the moment and he doesn’t dare hold this down for more than twenty-four hours. Even that long might cost him his job.”
“And when all that hits the papers,” Julia said. “We lose our latest victim and any chance of finding this creep.”
Lott knew she was right.
They had to crack this case and crack it quick. Time was not on their side.
Or the side of that poor woman from Missoula.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
August 14th, 2015
5:30 P.M.
Las Vegas
LOTT AND JULIA didn’t talk much as it took a while for Lott to get them through rush hour traffic and to the valet parking at the Bellagio. The heat on the few steps from the car into the casino seemed even worse than normal. More than likely that was because they had been in and out of it all day.
“We’re going to need more water,” Julia said as they got inside.
Lott nodded. “Felt that.”
He let her lead the way toward the café, winding between people and families ambling down the wide tile hallways.
The sounds of the casino wrapped around her and calmed her some. She loved all the people enjoying the machines and the gaming tables and just having wonderful vacations. She seemed to take energy from just being in a casino. It was why she enjoyed the poker tournaments around town at times and coming here
for lunches and dinners.
Plus the food was good, with lots of choices, and the staff was always friendly.
Doc, Fleet, and Annie had already secured a round table tucked off in a back corner surrounded on three sides by tall plants and flowers. Almost like a private office right in the middle of the casino.
Julia hugged both Doc and Fleet. Fleet was rail thin and tall, with a slight pot belly. He always wore a silk vest and suit and tonight was no exception, the gray silk making him look dashing and rich. He had lost the tie, something she very seldom had seen him without.
Doc wore jeans and a light dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, just as Lott often did. Doc was about six feet tall and as solid muscle as a human being could get. He was also about as tan as they came and had just spent most of June and July guiding rafts on the rivers of central Idaho. He had only come out a week before and planned on going back into the River of No Return in three days.
He and Annie made a stunning couple, right off a magazine cover.
Julia had no doubt that if this case was still active in three days, Doc would not be leaving it for Idaho rafting. He took the work he did with Fleet helping the FBI and other police networks very seriously.
Doc and Fleet and Annie always worked behind the scenes, but so far their team had really been instrumental in solving some major crimes. It seems Doc and Fleet had friends in just about every area of police and federal governments, all the way up to the President of the United States.
Julia was constantly impressed by what they could do, all the while seeming to enjoy life and play poker. And, on top of that, Fleet was raising a family of two kids in Boise.
A couple minutes later, Andor came in, leading Chief Beason. Andor was sweating, but both of them had changed clothes and the chief wore jeans, a UNLV tee-shirt, and a baseball cap. No one would recognize him, Julia was sure.
She was surprised that the chief had come along. He clearly felt this group was the best chance at catching this killer.
Doc and Fleet both stood.
“Great seeing you again, Chief,” Doc said, shaking the chief’s hand.
It was clear to Julia that Doc and the chief liked and respected each other.
“We really appreciate the work you and the gang here have done to break this ugly mess open,” the chief said, pulling up a chair with his back to the room.
“We’re not done yet,” Fleet said.
Everyone nodded to that.
After a moment of small talk about Doc and Annie’s summer on the rivers in Idaho, it was Doc who turned the topic back to the case. Julia was always impressed by Doc and now was no exception.
“So where do we stand?”
The chief quickly outlined what he was doing and how long he could hold this silence before all hell broke loose.
“Maybe thirty hours at most,” the chief said. “I have two friendly reporters from local stations and one from the Sun Times coming in tomorrow night, after the late news and press time on the paper, to talk with me. I’ll have to give them the full story that we have at that point. They won’t be able to hold it.”
Julia felt her stomach twist and she forced herself to take a drink of water. That was not a lot of time to catch a serial killer who had been working and killing women for over fifteen years.
“You going to be able to handle that many bodies and crime scenes?” Lott asked.
“I have help coming in already from California, Reno, and Salt Lake,” the chief said. “I’m talking with the FBI tomorrow afternoon, since this is all across state lines. And at that point I’m going to have to bring in the State Police, since most of this is in their area. But they can’t even begin to handle it any more than we can. Between the three agencies and outside help, we’ll deal with it.”
“I’ll give you a list of the women we think are victims,” Fleet said, “to contact their families when the time is right to get DNA samples to match.”
“Thanks,” the chief said. And then he turned and looked directly at Lott, Andor, and Julia. “And thanks to you three for being willing to dig at this. If nothing else, we’ll stop this and save some lives.”
Julia just nodded, as did Lott and Andor. She felt slightly embarrassed. Detectives were not used to being thanked for doing their jobs. Even if they were retired and still doing their jobs for free.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
August 14th, 2015
6:00 P.M.
Las Vegas
THEY HAD ORDERED and the waitress had just turned away when Lott decided it was time to get things organized. He was feeling the time pressure more than he wanted to admit. “I made a list of what Julia and I think are the major questions we are facing that might get to this sicko.”
“You don’t think our surveillance on the roads will catch this guy?” the chief asked.
Lott shook his head. “It needs to be done, but this guy isn’t going to be that stupid. I’m betting that panel van is in a storage unit somewhere in Idaho or Utah or Northern Nevada.”
Lott was worried the chief would be angry, but instead the chief just nodded, as did everyone else at the table.
“And once this breaks,” Andor said, “the guy is going nowhere near that mine or any mine in this area.”
Again everyone nodded.
“So I got six areas of questions,” Lott said. “Let me skip the first one because I think it holds the key and see if we can cover these other five and add in what we are missing before going back to number one.”
“The bus tragedy number one?” Andor asked.
Lott nodded.
“First,” Lott said, turning to look at Fleet and Doc, “besides the black hair, is there anything at all these victims have in common?”
Fleet shrugged. “All normal. Almost without an exception, they had decent jobs of one level or another. Nothing common between the jobs or financial status at all. About half were married or separated. A quarter of them had children, some raising the kids as single mothers. All were between the ages of twenty-two and thirty. And a large percentage of them were outwardly gay. Numbers of them were married to their partners.”
“Gay?” Andor asked, sitting forward.
Lott felt the same thing as clearly did the chief, since they both sat forward as well.
“Were these women forcibly abducted, or did they just disappear?” the chief asked.
“They all seemed to have just disappeared,” Fleet said. “Almost all had gone out for the night, some with friends, some on their own. They just never returned. It sometimes took a full day or two before someone would report them missing.”
Lott made himself take a deep breath and just try to think.
“So how did we get this last report on the Montana woman so fast?” Andor asked.
“The woman only went for some groceries around nine in the evening and was due back within thirty minutes,” Fleet said. “When she didn’t return, her partner tried to reach her and the victim’s cell phone had been shut off. The woman’s car was still in the store parking lot with a flat tire.”
“No security cams?” Julia asked.
“Nothing in that area of the parking lot,” Fleet said. “But through other cams in the area we got a brown panel van leaving the neighborhood right after the abduction.”
“So our killer offered to help her with her tire problem,” Andor said.
Lott was staring at Julia, who was looking stunned.
“Who would you trust in a parking lot at nine in the evening that you didn’t know?” Lott asked Julia.
“Another woman,” Julia said softly.
“Damn it all to hell,” Andor said. “We’ve been assuming this was a guy all this time.”
“I have a hunch we were wrong,” Lott said, feeling as stunned as everyone at the table felt.
Then Fleet pulled out an iPad and clicked up a file as the silence of the table let the casino sounds of laughter and bells ringing flood back over them.
Then Fleet turned the iPad
around to show everyone a picture of a middle-aged attractive woman posing for what was clearly a professional picture. She had long blonde hair pulled back off her face and wore a silk business jacket and an expensive blouse in the picture. To Lott, the woman’s dark eyes looked dead and piercing.
“Who is that?” Julia asked a half second before Lott got the same question out of his mouth.
“Her name is Karen West,” Fleet said. “She is the CEO and President of Roso Industries Inc., a major investment holding company based here in Las Vegas with upwards of forty different corporations under the umbrella. She has a lot of money.”
“Let me guess,” Lott said. “One of those corporations owns all the mines.”
Fleet just nodded.
“I’ve met that woman a number of times at fundraisers for different charity events,” the chief said. “Are you thinking she might be the killer here?”
“Let’s find out where she is right now,” Lott said. “I would call her a person of interest at the moment.”
The chief nodded.
Lott wasn’t sure if she was anything more than a person of interest. So far everything about this case twisted into dead ends. More than likely this would as well.
Fleet flipped the screen around, then grabbed his phone.
“Find out where she went to school as well, would you?” Lott asked Fleet, who nodded.
“Any bets?” Andor asked.
“No bet,” Lott said. “But if she is the one, the question then becomes that with her money, how do we pin it on her and make it stick? We have no concrete evidence at all, remember?”
“And how do we save the woman she has with her now?” Julia asked.
Lott just nodded.
Damn he hoped this hunch was the right one. He was tired of going back to square one on this case.
PART THREE
Playing the Hand that is Dealt
CHAPTER TWENTY
Calling Dead: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery Page 7
