Killer Scents (10 page)

He proceeded to cram bill after bill in her mouth. “Does it
ring any bells
now?”

Her body, now wracked in sobs
, ceased to fight.
Both her
wrists and ankles bled from the tape cutting into her flesh.

The lawyers’ ga
ze
was
transfixed on the needle
he slowly and deliberately
twirled between his fingers. Carol Tate no longer struggled against the tape
embedded
in
her
deep cuts.

With his free hand
,
he picked up the tumbler of brandy and brought it to his mouth.
T
he corner of his lips twitched
as he
h
e
ld the glass over her wrists,
and
tipped it.
Her body grew rigid beneath him.
The amber liquid splashed, mixing with blood red.

Suddenly he caught an image of himself in the mirror above her television.  He
shook his head
in disgust.
Get with the plan or you’re going to screw this one up royally.
He sat back on his heels and took a deep breath, setting the glass back on the table and firming his hold on the needle.

The first hole was
always the hardest; once he got the feel of the needle pushing through her flesh he’d be fine. Her eyes rolled back into her head, but she would soon be wide awake. He gritted his teeth and pushed the sewing tool through her bottom lip. He was rewarded by her eyes flying open. Her chest heaved, and a muted scream spasmed throughout her body before
only the whites of
her eyes
were visible.

He concentrated on the next stitch, pulling the fishing line taut to secure her lips together. She continued to fade in and out of consciousness while he sewed twenty perfectly spaced stitches, meticulously cleaning the blood from around each hole before sitting back to admire
his handiwork.

Carol Tate looked straight ahead, her eyes vacant.
H
e flitted about the room, cleaning and picking up any evidence of hi
s
being there.

He took the
orchid
out of the brandy bott
le
and returned it to the recycle box. He then placed the
stem
in her hands.

“You’re not so intimidating now, are you?”

She
finally
looked directly into his eyes as he moved closer, his fingers slipp
ing
beneath the front edges of her housecoat.
He had no desire to see her
naked body,
but
he could think of no better way to humiliate her. The material fell away, pooling at the sides of her quivering breasts. Carol squeezed her eyes shut, letting loose a fresh torrent of tears.

The familiar cool metal of his revolver kept him grounded
.
He assumed
the
position, standing on the arm of the sofa
. He
took aim
,
purposely avoid
ing
her eyes
,
and squeezed the trigger.

Several officers looked up from their desk
as
their pagers
buzzed
at the same time.
Randy
met Becca’s gaze,
silent
ly validating a sense of urgency. They quickly weaved their way through a maze of desks to the chief’s office.
T
ension waft
ed
towards them before they stepped inside to find Chief on the phone, pacing behind his desk.

“We’re on our way!” His shoulders rose and fell as he turned to face them. “He struck again.”

Randy
saw
the surge of emotion in his partner’s eyes
disappear
,
quickly
replaced by no
-
nonsense. Was it fear, anger...
?
H
e couldn’t tell.

Chief shrugged into his jacket.
“I’ll fill you in on the way over there. I think it’s best if we take my sedan.”

Becca
opened her mouth like she might
argue
the
decision
, but
repl
ied
with a shrug
instead
.

Randy sat up front with the chief, leaving Becca alone in the back. Since the first time he
’d
laid eyes on her, she remained constant in his mind. Sometimes thoughts of her came at the most inopportune times throughout the day and
in
his dreams at night. It wasn’t going to be easy, but if he didn’t reign in his
desire for her
, his wandering mind might hamper the case, and finding
Susan
’s killer was just too important to
Becca
.

“Carol Tate is a high profile defence attorney. It looks like he was waiting in the house
and confronted her shortly after she showered.
”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a disgruntled client?” Becca spoke up.

“Nope, her mouth is sewn shut. We won’t know what’s inside
it
until she
arrives in
the morgue.” Chief
looked in his rear view mirror
. “Our guy left his signature behind
. It’s
a white
orchid
.

“What do we know about the victim?” Becca wedged
herself
between the front seats. “Isn’t she the ball-breaker lawyer who is always in the paper for winning cases for scum bags?”

“That about sums her up.”

Cop cars
with
flashing lights, an ambulance
,
and several radio stations reporting live littered the yard
and
spill
ed
out into the street.

“The neighbor called 911 after seeing a motorcycle back down the driveway.”

“I’m glad we’re not on our bikes.”

Randy opened her door. “Hold up.” He
jogged
across the lawn where two attendants carried the body
bag
from the house
. Slowly, he unzipped
it
enough to
find
the lawyer in the same state as the first five victims—a single gunshot between the eyes
,
her
mouth
sewn shut. “
C
all
me
once you find out what’s in
there
.” The silver
-
haired doctor
,
who followed the gurney
,
nodded before taking his leave.

Becca hadn’t moved from the doorway, her face void of expression.
T
he chief entered the house and stood beside her. After a brief exchange of words, she left the house.

Where the hell is she going?

Randy motioned for the chief to join him. “Is Becca okay?”

Chief Thomson arched a brow. “Why wouldn’t she be?
I sent her out to talk to the neighbor who called 911.”

Becca welcomed the task that took her out of the house.
This makes six. We gotta find this guy and fast.

A tiny, old lady stood at the edge of the driveway holding a sweater closed over her nightgown. Her eyes were
a tad too bright as she watched
the body being t
ransported
to the ambulance.

“Mrs. Miller?” Becca purposely stood in her line of vision.
She doesn’t need that image haunting her dreams.

“Yes?”
The woman’s
forehead
wrinkled
.

Becca showed her badge. “My name is
Detective Talbot
. Can we sit up on your porch and talk? Those chairs look pretty comfy.”

Mrs
.
Miller didn’t hesitate to accept her extended arm
. T
hey
slowly
made their way across the lawn.

“I don’t know what this world’s coming to. A woman isn’t even safe in her own home anymore.”

Becca patted her hand sympathetically. “I promise we’re going to do everything in our power to find this guy.”

The old lady sat in an oversized armchair
,
and Becca sat beside her.

“Can you tell me what you saw? Wh
y did
you call 911?”

“I’ve lived here over twenty years. Carol moved in around six years ago.
She was a
nice lady
who
always had a smile for me.” She paused to pull a hanky from her sleeve and dab at her eyes. “Poor soul rarely had visitors, liked to keep to herself like me. So when I saw that guy on his motorcycle, I knew something wasn’t right.”

“Did he do or say anything?”

“Nope. He pushed that big black bike down to the road
. He
was looking all over
the place
before he jumped on it a couple of times
to start his motorcycle
. I’m surprised th
e
noise didn’t wake the neighbourhood.” She sighed. “When I saw
a
container on his back, I remembered reading the paper about some whacko they were calling
T
he Florist. That’s when I called
the authorities
.”

He had to kick start the bike. So did the one at the
professor’s place.

“Can you describe the case?”

“Oh, you know those round cases architects put their blue prints in, but
this one was
black. Everything about him was black
—black
shoes,
black
rain suit, the case,
and even
his bike”

“Did you say rain suit?”

“Well
,
I think that’s what you call them.
It was just l
ike the yellow ones
we used to call slickers
.”

“You’ve been very helpful, Mrs. Miller.” Becca placed her card in
the woman’s
weathered hand. “If you think of something else, please
call
me any time. Do you want me to
send
someone to stay here with you?”

“My son should be here any minute now.
”
The old woman smiled weakly.
“
I hope you catch that guy.
B
e careful dear
.
I’ll be praying for you.”

He rides old school. Maybe it’s time to talk to a few old friends who might know if there’s a bike like that around town.

Randy stood in the doorway. The second the
ir eyes met
,
he
dropped his gaze and scribbled in his notebook.

Becca s
cowled
. I think I’ll go this one alone.

Chapter Eleven

After spending most of the day inside the precinct, Becca welcomed the diversion her plans afforded her. A little voice in the back of her head
kept yelling she
shouldn’t be doing this alone.
What choice did she have? The way Randy acted of late, and after
he
totally ignor
ed
her all day, she didn’t know whether to trust him or not.