Casanova Killer, An SSCD Crime Thriller

by Tallulah Grace

  “Of course we’re not related. Why in the world would you ask something like that?” Jerry asked.

  “Because you bicker like siblings, that’s why. Sorry.” He gave her a sheepish grin. Jerry thought he looked good enough to eat.

  “Hey, I’m in.” Dylan exclaimed. “Told ya.” He raised his eyebrows at Jerry.

  “Okay, okay, you’re good. Now find us something.”

  “Quit looking over my shoulder,” Dylan commanded. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your big night out?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “I’m going. Ethan, have you finished in the bathroom?”

  “It’s all yours, just let me get my tux from the closet.”

  ~~~

  By the time Jerry came back into the living room, Dylan and Ethan had their heads together over the laptop, peering at the computer screen.

  “Did you find something?” She asked as she came through the door. Both men turned to look at her. Dylan’s reaction tickled her, but it was the sudden gleam in Ethan’s eyes that had her heart fluttering.

  “Damn, Princess, you clean up good.” Dylan nodded approvingly.

  “Thanks.” Jerry threw him a glance, then went to stand beside Ethan.

  “You look wonderful.” He told her and touched her arm. “That shade of blue is perfect with your eyes.” The sincerity of his compliment made her pause. She had fallen in love with the sapphire blue gown as soon as she’d seen it hanging in her closet. Secretly, she was nervous about tonight, and hoped that she’d at least chosen the right dress.

  “Thank you, Ethan. You look nice, too.” It was an understatement if there had ever been one. The man looked like sin on a stick. She was suddenly grateful for Dylan’s presence. Otherwise, she might have given in to the urge to reach up and taste him. “What did you find?”

  “An image, possibly, of Oscar. It’s grainy, looks like it was taken at night from a distance. See the red Mas in the background?” Dylan pointed to the screen.

  “Yes, can you enhance it?”

  “I’m trying, but Jimmy’s got the good toys, I sent it off to him. It’s time stamped four days ago, taken with a Canon, but we didn’t find one in the apartment.”

  “She would have taken it with her, in anticipation of the adventure he promised.” Jerry’s voice was sour. “Son of a bitch couldn’t know about this picture. No way would he let her keep it.”

  “That’s probably why it’s such a bad shot. Maybe by tomorrow, we’ll have his face.”

  “From your lips.” Jerry added.

  “We should go.” Ethan took Jerry’s arm; she hoped he didn’t feel the goose bumps that suddenly appeared.

  “Text us if you find anything else.” Jerry told Dylan. “And lock up when you leave.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Have fun.” He told her with a wicked grin.

  “We will.” Ethan assured him, guiding Jerry through the door.

  ~~~

  “But why would Alfredo humiliate Violetta in front of everyone, even if it were true that she loved the Baron? He was an idiot to believe that, by the way.” Jerry spoke in hushed tones, even though the curtain had fallen on the second Act.

  “He was so devastated by her betrayal that he couldn’t see past his ego. His need to crush her in front of their peers is not an uncommon knee-jerk reaction, I suppose, even in the eighteen hundreds.” Ethan was pleased that Jerry had honored her word to give the performance a fair shake, and secretly thrilled that she was getting into the story.

  “But how could he not see that she was lying? The love between them was palpable, how could he believe that she was in love with anyone else? Especially such a pompous ass. Alfredo had to know that his father was behind Violetta’s sudden change of heart. If nothing else, the timing made it obvious.” Jerry’s anger at the storyline amused Ethan in that it echoed his own whenever he managed to catch a performance.

  “Obvious to us, but not so much to a love-sick Alfredo. I believe that he’d never really gotten over the Baron’s influence in Violetta’s former lifestyle as a courtesan.”

  “Maybe so. At least the guests at the party turned on him for treating a woman so poorly. Another thing I don’t understand is why Violetta begged him to see the love in her heart, after he’d treated her like crap.”

  “I take it you’ve never been in love?” Ethan asked quietly.

  The question surprised Jerry, but not as much as the way Ethan’s eyes suddenly narrowed. They seemed to reach right into her soul, searching for the answer.

  “No, I haven’t,” she said softly. “I’ve had crushes and mini-relationships, but I’ve never experienced the all-consuming power of the kind of love that Violetta and Alfredo share.”

  “Neither have I. I’m not sure how many people have been lucky enough to find the real thing. I’ve seen enough operas, read enough Browning, and the like, to know that pride goes out the window when true love is involved. Even though Violetta used Alfredo’s insecurities to try and do what his father insisted was right for the family, she really wanted him to see past the ruse, and rely on her love for him. But he failed.”

  “Men can be such idiots.” Jerry’s expression caused Ethan to laugh out loud, eliciting raised eyebrows from the patrons seated in the surrounding boxes.

  “I suppose you’re right, but can you really fault Alfredo for believing Violetta’s lies?”

  “I don’t know, I suppose not. There’s one more Act, right? Maybe they’ll come to their senses.” Jerry relaxed back in her seat as the house lights flickered.

  Ethan didn’t want to spoil the ending, but he suddenly wished he’d taken her to a predictable romantic comedy, or anything with a feel-good ending. As invested as she was in the plot, she would surely feel the pain of the Third Act acutely. He wanted to spare her that. Resisting the urge to take her hand and lead her out of the theater, he settled back and felt inside his pocket for a handkerchief.

  ~~~

  Dylan clicked the link that Jimmy had just sent and waited for the image to come into focus. The graininess was gone, but the man’s face was in shadow, giving them precious little more than they already had on him.

  “Dammit,” he shoved away from the table situated beneath the window in his hotel room. Throwing open the door, he walked a few feet and pounded on Nate’s door.

  “I thought we were going to meet downstairs,” Nate greeted him.

  “Have you seen the best your boy wonder, Jimmy, can do with the pic we found on Sonja’s computer?” Dylan ignored Nate’s greeting, moving past him into the room.

  “Not yet. I take it that it’s less than satisfactory.” Nate closed the door gently and followed Dylan into the space.

  “That’s an understatement.” Dylan growled. “We can’t even see his face. Our first decent lead, and tech drops the ball. I thought the kid was supposed to be some kind of computer genius, but you can’t prove it by me.” Dylan waited as Nate found Jimmy’s email and opened the picture.

  “His face is in shadow,” Nate commented after studying the image. “I’m sure that if it’s possible to enhance it, Jimmy’s on it.” Nate peered intently at the screen. “He’s a big bastard, must be six-four, if he’s an inch. Look at his stance, and the width of his shoulders. Looks like a body builder.”

  Dylan joined Nate at the computer. “If that’s so, he’ll need a place to work out. We should check the gyms in the area, check out any new members in the past two months. With a ride like that, he’ll be remembered.”

  “He won’t use the Mas for day-to-day crap; too conspicuous, especially since Jenna’s body was found so soon. Nope, our boy has another ride, something luxurious, but not as flashy.”

  “Agreed, but in this city, a private residence with an attached two-car is pricey. No way he’d use street parking, or a public facility.”

  “We already know he has money. I’ll have Jimmy narrow the search for rental homes with a minimum of a two-car attached. Should help some.” Nate began sending a text.


  “I hope he knows how to perform a search better than he knows how to fix a picture.” Dylan grumbled. “Are you ready to eat? I’m starved.”

  ~~~

  Ethan sat patiently for Jerry to compose herself, after the house lights went up at the end of the performance. He could see tears sliding down Jerry’s face, and he wondered if she was even aware of them. She was moved, of that he was certain. How could she not be? Alfredo discovering Violetta’s sacrifice, returning to her just in time to witness her death, was heart wrenching for the most seasoned aficionado, even more so for a virgin opera-goer.

  Jerry knew the lights were up, and that anyone could see, but she couldn’t stop the flow of tears. She could barely understand her emotional reaction to Violetta’s death, and Alberto’s resulting heartbreak. She couldn’t possibly explain it to Ethan.

  As the theater cleared out, she felt his hand cover hers as it lay on her lap. Turning to face him, she was met with complete understanding, and a touch of moisture at the corner of his expressive eyes. No explanation was necessary.

  He kept hold of her hand as they made their way to the door, tucking it through his arm, pulling her close amid the remaining patrons and pedestrians along the bustling street. Beautiful people, dressed to the nines, stepped into a line of waiting cars as couples, out for an evening stroll, wove their way between them. Cameras flashed as paparazzi captured personal moments and smiling faces, in hopes of a payoff. Three or four more industrious homeless held out tins and hands towards anyone who glanced their way. Ethan slid a folded bill into a woman’s hand, just before helping Jerry into the car. Neither had spoken a word to each other since Act III began.

  A comfortable silence filled the back of the town car as it slowly pulled away from the curb. Ethan had not let go of Jerry’s hand, neither did she try and remove it from his grip. He felt warm and familiar, an anchor in the storm of emotion that flooded her during the performance, especially the final act.

  For the life of her, Jerry couldn’t come to grips with her reaction to the sadness enacted on stage. It wasn’t as if death was a stranger to her, she’d made it her business. A woman cut down in the prime of her youth, wasted potential, and love lost, were not uncommon elements of the life she had chosen. Why, then, did a centuries old skit, depicting a similar scenario, trigger such deep, soul-wrenching pain?

  Ethan watched Jerry from the corner of his eye. The tiny lines between her brows told him she was struggling with something. He wished she would share her thoughts. Opera was known for dredging up powerful emotions, often jarring long forgotten memories, or touching places in the soul that hadn’t seen the light of day for years. He wondered which parts of Jerry La Traviata had stirred.

  Jerry closed her eyes and let her mind wander. As soon as she relaxed, a woman’s face appeared in her memory, making her gasp with recollection. The woman was beautiful, young, and vibrant, with the same high cheekbones and long brown hair that framed Jerry’s face. Her mother.

  Tears came again, unbidden, and filled with the pain of losing her beloved mother when she was barely three years old. She had no real memories of the time they had together, only fleeting images of her mother’s face, and the lilting sound of her laughter. She had laughed a lot with her mother, Jerry was certain of that much. Just as certain as she was that the laughter had stopped, on the day her mother died.

  Jerry never dwelled on her childhood. Being raised in a series of foster homes, one worse than the last, had prompted her toward a career with the FBI. Witnessing first-hand the cruelty that people chose to inflict on each other, and on their children, fueled a burning desire for the power to make things better. She also liked carrying a gun and possessing the knowledge of just how to use it. More than once during the horrors of her youth, she wished for a gun, a knife, anything she could use for protection.

  Refusing to probe the wound, she focused on recalling her mother’s face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d pictured her. Circumstances had taught her to block out most of her upbringing. The happy times with her mom fell victim to the mental blackout. Remembering her face tonight made the evening more special, even though her heart ached with the memory.

  Every instinct Ethan possessed screamed at him to wrap his arms around Jerry and pull her close. Whatever she was thinking brought a sadness to her eyes that broke his heart. Throwing professionalism to the wind, he gently released her hand, draped his arm around her shoulders, and nudged her towards him. She came willingly.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You made the papers again.” Dylan stated, slapping the thick roll of black and white against Ethan’s chest when he opened the door.

  “Good morning to you, too.” Ethan was groggy from lack of sleep and in no mood for Dylan’s attitude. He’d tossed and turned half the night, concern for Jerry, and whatever demons haunted her, warring with his ever-increasing emotional connection to the woman who should be no more than his partner.

  “What, no coffee?” Dylan ignored Ethan, but was secretly pleased to finally see the man ruffled. He set about making a pot that could double as motor oil.

  “There’s a Starbucks on the corner, help yourself.” Ethan grumbled and headed for the bathroom.

  Dylan chuckled, mostly to himself, and began whistling as he worked. The day had potential if he could start it off getting under Slick’s skin.

  “Have you seen the email I sent last night?” Dylan asked when Ethan reappeared.

  “No, did you find something?” Ethan was instantly alert.

  “Our tech department enhanced the image we found on Sonja’s computer. Not a lot of help, but you may recognize something about him.” Dylan set the pot to perk and joined Ethan at the table.

  “Is that the best they could do with his face?” Ethan asked as he enlarged the image on his tablet.

  Dylan prickled at the perceived insult, even though it echoed his own feelings. It was okay for him to criticize Jimmy; it wasn’t okay for Slick to do so.

  “If it could be better, it would be. Does his body seem familiar? Nate and I think he may be a body builder, or at least someone who works out frequently. We’re checking gyms in the area for new members.”

  “It doesn’t ring any bells,” Ethan stared at the image, studying the man’s carriage. “He’s big, imposing. Seems to me I’d remember him if I’d ever met him.”

  “We also think he has a second car, not as flashy as the Mas. We’re checking rental houses in the area with a two car garage minimum. At least it’s something to go on.”

  “That’s good, but it may not help. Also check suitable homes with owners away on an extended trip. When people in these circles travel, they often stay in friend’s homes, rather than rely on public accommodations. Our boy would definitely prefer his privacy.”

  “Makes sense If you’ve already got money, why spend it when you can freeload off of your friends?” Dylan barely disguised his disgust with the upper echelon.

  “Exactly. Better lodgings, often with built-in servants, more privacy, and no expenses. It is what it is.” Ethan shrugged.

  “Morning, boys,” Jerry breezed into the room looking refreshed and cheerful.

  Ethan scowled briefly, wondering how she could look so good after the near emotional breakdown she suffered last night.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Dylan replied. “You look chipper this morning. Did you get a little shut-eye at the opera?”

  Jerry’s smile nearly faltered, but she held it in place. She was a pro at blocking out unpleasantness, and was determined to behave as if last night’s emotional turmoil had never happened. At least in front of Ethan and Dylan.

  “The opera was wonderful, thank you.” Jerry told him as she moved into the kitchen, stopping short just inside the door. “Who made that sludge?” She leaned back to look at them accusingly. “It’s practically standing on the counter on its own.”

  “I made it. Slick here looked like he could use a jolt.” Dylan tossed his thumb at Ethan.


  “What a waste.” Jerry grumbled and poured the thick coffee down the drain. “What are you two looking at? Did you find something?” She called as she prepared a fresh pot.

  Dylan brought her up to speed, sharing the image of the unsub when she came back into the room.

  “He’s big.” She echoed Ethan’s comment. “Fits the description that Sonja’s neighbor gave you. His clothes look high end, maybe even tailored.”

  “You’re right,” Ethan finally spoke up. “How did I miss that? There can’t be too many tailors in town, and a man accustomed to the finer things will always go for the best.”

  “It’s another avenue to explore,” Dylan punched in a text to Nate. “Can’t have too many of those. Of course, who’s to say that he’ll need anything new? He could have brought a sufficient wardrobe with him.”

  “True, but it’s worth checking out.” Jerry hovered near the kitchen doorway, waiting for the coffee to brew. The makeup she’d applied this morning hid the evidence of her sleepless night, but she still felt the effects. She needed coffee, badly, and she needed it now. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “You two made a splash again,” Dylan nodded at the paper lying open on the table. “Nate wants you to go out together, shopping, and to lunch. Give the paps something to do, following you around.” He grinned up at her.

  “I should also check in with Kim, see if she’s heard from Sonja.” Jerry moved into the kitchen, grateful that the coffee was finally ready.

  “If she’s heard from Sonja, it’ll be a bloody miracle.” Ethan growled.

  “Still, I should keep in touch.” Jerry agreed.

  “If Sonja’s dead, and we know she is, he’s either already romancing another victim, or he’s on the prowl.” Dylan joined Jerry in the kitchen.

  “We need to step it up, somehow make him notice me.” Jerry prepared two cups, bringing one to Ethan.

  “Agreed.” Ethan gave her a smile of thanks, noticing the carefully hidden dark spots beneath her eyes. It made him feel slightly better, knowing that she’d had as difficult a time sleeping as he.

  “That’s pretty much what Nate thinks, so you two should prepare for a day of it. Sightseeing, shopping, hobnobbing wherever you can. I’m sure you know the drill.” He looked pointedly at Ethan.