Surin scratched her head. “Something about her didn’t fit the fantasy,” she said, and instantly looked up at Parker. “Rhodes, we need to see that car.”
***
The police impound wasn’t far from the hospital. Surin drove quickly and parked out front on the street. Flashing their badges at the uniform on the gate, they strode out the back, straight towards Lana’s car.
“De-tectives,” said a burly man who was ambling over to them with a large grin, pulling up his pants as he walked.
“McNicol,” Surin replied with a smirk. “Is this where they’ve been hiding you?”
“I like it down here. I don’t have to deal with snotty-nosed rookies.” He snorted. Surin laughed aloud and slapped him affectionately on his back.
“Parker Rhodes, this is McNicol.” They shook hands. “McNicol used to ride with my dad back in the day.” Parker nodded.
“So, you’re the poor bastard partnered up with this firecracker,” McNicol joked.
“That I am,” Parker replied with a 1000-watt smile. Surin punched him hard on the arm.
“So, what brings you down here,” McNicol asked, “and at this time of night?”
Surin looked down at her watch. She hadn’t realised how late it was. They had been at the hospital for hours, and the day had gotten away from them. Instantly, fatigue settled into her limbs.
“We need into Lana Beau’s car.”
McNicol held up his hand with a smile and rattled a set of keys like a tambourine. “Thought you might,” he added with a grin.
They walked over to the vehicle together, Parker and Surin both snapping on a pair of gloves, McNicol opened the doors.
“Central locking?” Parker asked, lifting the handle to the passenger side door.
“No,” McNicol stated. “It’s faulty, so it seems the front passenger door is the only door that isn’t connected to central locking and doesn’t open or lock when the button is pressed, it appears to be on its own.”
Surin sat in the driver’s seat for a moment. “According to the report, he got in through the front passenger door, so he knew it was faulty?” she said, mainly to herself.
“Maybe,” Parker replied. “The rear-view mirror is down here,” he said, bending his big frame down to retrieve it off the floor.
“I don’t get it,” Surin said, exasperated. “He kills these women, why would he care if they see his face?” She hit the steering wheel with both hands, harder than intended.
“He’s careful,” Parker answered, ignoring her little outburst. “So much in fact, that he takes precautions even if they aren’t needed.”
Surin ran her fingers along the dashboard, collecting dust. “He has an extraordinary level of control,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never encountered anything like it.” With that, she got out of the front, opened the rear door and slid in.
“Miss Beau likes her Diet Coke,” she said casually. “There has to be ten empty cans back here, all stacked to one side.” She threw some aside and felt down behind the seats for anything.
“He must have moved them otherwise she would have heard him rustling around back there,” Parker added.
“Yeah,” Surin mumbled quietly. She picked through a few other shopping bags until she found what she was looking for.
“Parker,” she said, with an edge to her voice. He turned around quickly to face her. “I think this is why Lana Beau is still alive.”
He moved his eyes from her face to the pack of dark brown hair dye she was holding up in her hand.
“A fake,” he said out loud. Lana Beau was a blonde.
20
Parker dropped Surin at her front door. It was late.
“We did well today,” he said after turning off the engine. “We have a real insight into this guy now,” he added, “the look, the hair, everything.” He shifted in the seat to face her. “It’s so important to him that he risked getting caught rather than ruin his fantasy.” Surin sat, not moving, staring out the window.
“It’s more than ‘a type’,” she said quietly, “it’s a person.” She turned and looked at Parker. He immediately noticed the large black shadows that had formed under her eyes. “Not some crazy fantasy, I think he is trying to reanimate an actual person.” Parker sat back, studying her.
“He knew her,” he added, nodding.
“Or thinks he did,” she replied. “Either way, that woman is the key.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “And we have no fucking idea who she is.” Parker was worried, he hadn’t seen Surin this deflated in all the time he had known her, she definitely wasn’t herself.
“Surin, when was the last time you slept?” he asked gently. She looked at him, unwanted tears welling in her eyes.
“It’s been a while,” she said truthfully, thinking of the necklace and let out a small laugh. She unbuckled her belt and opened the door. Parker did the same. “Where do you think you’re going?” she said with an irritable tone she didn’t entirely intend.
“To your couch,” he replied, nonplussed.
“What?” she stuttered. The thought of him sleeping in her house, sending a delightful but unwanted shiver up her spine. “I don’t need a freaking babysitter, Rhodes,” she said defensively, slamming the car door shut.
“Good,” he said, not in the least bit intimidated, “because I would make for lousy company tonight.” He looked at her, smiling. She shook her head, ignoring his grin, and marched up to the door, feeling like a damsel in distress. Her hands shook as she unlocked it and flicked on the entry lights.
“Since you’re not an invited guest, you can sort yourself out — I’m going to bed!” With that, she stormed down the hallway and shut her bedroom door. Parker chuckled to himself and settled down to sleep on her comfortable couch. Angry or not, at least this way he knew she would get some much-needed rest. After all, working with an exhausted Surin Elliott was not in anyone’s best interest.
At the other end of the house, Surin heard the lamp in the living room click off, and she eventually closed her eyes. She would never have admitted it to anyone, especially not Parker Rhodes, but she was glad he was here. Ever since finding that chain, sleep had eluded her. Tonight, however, she felt her body let go and dreams of the ocean and pearly white sand finally came.
Surin awoke to the comforting aromas of frying bacon and brewing coffee. She stretched her arms above her head like a feline and moaned aloud. Shifting lazily onto her side, she stared at her alarm clock. Eight fifteen, wait, that can’t be right. A sense of panic surged through her as she shot up from the bed onto her feet. The room suddenly started to spin. She grabbed the bed frame and closed her eyes for a second. Whoa, girl, jumped up a little too quickly, she said to herself, waiting for her head to catch up with her body. Once she felt OK enough to walk, she went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. The coolness of the liquid made her feel instantly refreshed. She eyed herself in the mirror, noticing her long hair in disarray. Shrugging her shoulders, she unhooked her robe off the back of the door and wrapped it around her body.
As she walked into the kitchen, still rubbing her eyes, she had to stifle a laugh. Parker was standing in front of the hotplates in his white singlet, blue boxer shorts and socks.
“Morning,” she said with a smile. He spun around, holding a fry pan, and grinned.
“Morning, to you,” he replied. “Sleep OK?” he asked, returning his attention to the eggs that were poaching.
“Actually, yes,” she said and sat down at the table, tucking one leg up under her. “Best in a long time. Certainly the longest sleep in I’ve had for about a decade.” She watched him work his way around her kitchen, amazed at how comfortable he was in there.
“I have already called the station and let them know we’ll be in late,” he said.
“OK, thanks,” Surin replied. “I have to call Madison,” she said, already dreading that conversation.
“What the hell for?” Parker asked, raising his voice s
lightly.
Surin shrugged. “I gave her my word we would keep her in the loop, and she doesn’t know the details about Lana yet.” She tried to run her fingers through her knotty hair and sighed, giving up.
“So, whatcha making there?” she asked humorously, changing the subject.
“Only the Rhodes family favourite,” he said with that stupid grin. Surin couldn’t help but laugh loudly — he looked like an excited ten-year-old.
“Well, I need a coffee,” she said, standing to grab a cup, but before she could, Parker placed one in front of her. She smiled. “And what did I do to deserve such special treatment?” she asked, taking a tentative sip and humming appreciatively.
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I like to cook, and I don’t get to do it very often any more.”
She watched as he plated up two impossibly large servings and laid them on the table. There was crispy bacon, poached eggs, ciabatta loaf, baked tomatoes and avocado.
Surin’s mouth started watering. “This looks amazing, Rhodes.”
He picked up his knife and fork, sitting opposite her. “Sure beats the last few meals I’ve had,” he replied and started digging in. They ate together in comfortable silence. Surin noticed he had brought the paper in, and she unrolled it to see if anything else had been reported about Isabelle.
“Nothing more on Isabelle,” she said, in between mouthfuls.
“Thank God for that,” he mumbled.
“And strangely enough, nothing on Lana,” she added. “I thought the media would have been onto that like white on rice.”
Parker put his fork down and drained his glass of juice. “Maybe they thought it was just a car accident?” he added.
“Hmm,” said Surin, folding the paper and putting it on the chair beside her. She leaned back and stretched, rolling her neck from side to side as it cracked appreciatively. “Right, I’m going to ring Madison and then we are off to the station,” she said, standing. As she stood up, her robe fell open to expose her in her old white see-through singlet and boyleg underpants. She stood there, frozen for a second, looking at Parker. His gaze did not shift from her. She felt a heat build its way from her toes, all the way up to her flushing cheeks. Abruptly, she turned and walked briskly down the hallway, closing the door, and leaning her back against it in an attempt to still her racing heartbeat.
Parker had still not moved long after Surin had basically run down the hallway. The image of her standing there in her underwear had done things to him he could not hide, especially not in boxer shorts. The ratty singlet had done nothing to cover her firm, round breasts. It had hitched up just above her belly button, allowing him to imagine running his hand across her soft skin; then there were her legs… He stood up quickly grabbing the empty plates and tried to wipe the thoughts out of his mind. He dressed quickly, folded the blanket he used the previous night and sat down on the recliner waiting for her to emerge.
When she finally did, she was all business. Dressed in long navy pants and a crisp white button-up, she had twisted her dark hair into a French roll and clipped it at the base of her neck with a navy hairpin. Her mobile phone was pressed up against her ear — she held it there with her shoulder as she clipped her gun holster around her waist. “Madison,” she mouthed, pointing to her handset. He nodded and breathed a sigh of relief that she appeared to have completely dismissed their last encounter. He sat listening for a few minutes until she hung up and put her phone in the front of her tote.
“How’d that go?” he asked quietly, still not sure of her mood.
“As well as I thought it would,” she said and sighed. “Better the devil you know, right?” she added.
“Apparently,” he said sarcastically.
“Thanks for breakfast.” She motioned to the table. “I don’t get to eat at home much, it was nice.”
Moving towards the kitchen, he watched her cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment. So not totally forgotten, he thought to himself, ignoring the tightness in his pants at the thought of her half-naked.
“My pleasure,” he said with a grin.
She turned to look at him, surprised at his candour and shook her head with a snort. “Not a word, Parker,” she warned, and they both walked out the front door together.
“Where to first?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“BPD,” she stated. “Forensics called while I was getting ready. They’ve finished with Lana’s clothing and the stuff they took from her car.” She pushed the radio on and flicked stations to find a song worth listening to. “I thought we should go take a look.” Parker nodded in agreement. They took off down the street, David Bowie’s “China Girl” blaring through the speakers.
***
Each cradling a tray of coffees, Parker and Surin walked onto the floor of the Homicide Section of the BPD and handed them out to the officers sitting at their desks. Dennis looked up and smiled as Surin approached.
“You’re an angel sent from heaven,” he said, grabbing a large cup.
“Yeah, I hear that all the time,” Surin replied, shaking her head. “Long night?” she asked.
“The longest,” he replied and sat back in his chair. “What about you?” he added, casting a look over at Parker who had just sat down at his desk.
“I actually got some sleep for once,” she replied.
He shifted his gaze back to Surin with a smirk. “And a sleep in?” he added.
Surin blushed. “Don’t be a dick,” she said, “it’s not like that.”
Dennis nodded, letting it go. He had slept on Surin’s couch a few times himself.
“We’re going down to evidence to look at the personal possessions from Lana Beau,” Surin continued.
“The attempted abduction?” Dennis queried.
“Well, it wasn’t a failed attempt. It was more like a catch and release,” she corrected.
She sensed Parker before she saw him. He was standing behind her, probably a touch too close. Her face heated again, God she needed to get this under control and this morning’s little striptease hadn’t helped. She turned around.
“We heading down?” he asked casually, looking at her red face with confusion.
“Yep, let’s go,” she answered stiffly, avoiding eye contact with Dennis, and they walked over to the elevator.
Billy Johnson had been manning the front desk of the evidence room ever since Surin could remember.
“Detectives,” he said brusquely, standing as they approached.
“Billy.” Surin nodded.
“What can I do for you?” he said and shifted the mouse, so the computer screen came to life.
“We need the evidence from last night’s case, Lana Beau.”
“Carjacking?” Billy asked.
“Something like that,” Parker replied.
Billy nodded, sat down and tapped away on the keys. For his age, Billy had extremely fast typing skills. There was a rumour going around the department that he actually taught touch-typing night classes at the local college.
“Here it is,” he said gruffly. “Signature, badge number, you know the drill.” He handed Surin a pen and walked past them, swiping his access card to open the evidence locker.
“I remember when it was a simple key to get in there,” Parker said with a smile.
“You and me both,” Billy replied, shaking his head. A few minutes later he re-appeared carrying a box and handed it to Parker.
“That’s it.” He turned and sat back down on his chair, unfolding the newspaper and putting it up, covering his face.
“Thanks, Billy,” Surin said.
“Hmm,” he grunted.
Surin and Parker chose the conference room that was adjacent to their office. She closed the door as Parker put the box on the table, lifting the lid.
“Not much here,” he said, picking up items one at a time and laying them on the table.
Lana’s shirt, jeans and a pair of size eight TOMS were the first things out of the box, followed by a pair of ank
le socks, pink underwear and a wallet. Surin opened the purse, flicking through its contents.
“Over fifty dollars here,” she said. “Confirms our theory that this was our guy as opposed to a carjacking.”
Parker nodded. “There’s only a handful of stuff from inside her car left, couple of noodle packets, some sketchbooks and a heap of material swatches.” He looked up at Surin.
“Nothing else?” she asked, flipping pages of the sketchbook.
“Not really,” he said, digging back through to make sure. “A pair of knockoff Gucci sunglasses and a chain.” The sound of the sketchbook hitting the floor startled Parker, but when he looked up, Surin’s ashen face shocked him more.
“Surin?” he said, carefully moving over to her side of the table.
“A necklace?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Yeh, just a cheap necklace,” he repeated, confused.
“Describe it to me,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Surin, what’s going on?” Parker asked.
“For fuck’s sake, Parker, please, just do what I ask!” she yelled, her voice filled with desperation.
He walked back around the table to the box and picked it up. “It’s a silver ball chain, about twelve inches in length,” he said steadily, his head reeling from her outburst.
“And?” she said, choking back tears.
“And it has a pendant on it, engraved with the letter E.”
Surin’s hand flew up to her mouth, stifling a loud sob. She grasped the chair with her hand as she sank down onto the floor. Parker was beside her in a second. He grabbed her hand and held it as it shook uncontrollably.
“Surin, please,” he said, choking back his own emotions, “tell me what the hell is going on.”
After a few minutes, her crying abated. She wiped her nose on her hand. “I’m sorry, Parker,” she said finally, “I have no idea.”
The Dark Places Page 13
