Authors: Teri Riggs
“Oh joy. That sure as hell makes my day. I can tell you now, my vote is no.” She took off her gloves and tossed them in the trash pile. “For a serial killer he’s not taking much of a cooling off period.”
“It happens that way sometimes,” Wilder reminded her.
“Yeah, I know.” Kennedy squatted next to the body and studied it for several minutes.
She checked her watch. “It’s after five AM already. Let’s get a uniform over to LVTVS in case the killer sends them another AFTER picture. We should give the other local stations a heads up, too, just in case the killer decides to share.”
Wilder pulled out his cell phone and punched in a few numbers. “Good idea.
I’ll call in and have dispatch send an officer to all the news stations.”
Kennedy saw Mandi and waved her over. “Make sure one of your techs gets the two burned out light bulbs near the body bagged and tagged. I doubt it’s a coincidence that the two lights closest to the body just happened to go out at the same time. If the killer tampered with them, maybe he left prints.”
Mandi nodded. “I’ve already got someone on it. We’re about to bag the body. You finished?”
“Yeah, go ahead and get her to the morgue.” “I’ll find a tech.”
Wilder closed his phone and looked at Kennedy. “Did Jack-Off find anything useful on the first victim?”
“He says the perpetrator didn’t bother to use a condom and there were some skin samples, not hers, under the fingernails. Hoff also didn’t see any signs of rape. No vaginal bruising or tearing. He thinks the sex was bought and paid for. Just a hooker and her john. Business as usual.”
“How cozy.” Wilder snapped his phone back on his belt.
“Looks like the john changed the name of the game at the end of playtime. He was standing behind her when he strangled her. Finger bruising on the front of the throat, thumb bruising in back. He probably boinked her from behind, but he’s not a backdoor kind of man.”
“A backdoor kind of man?”
“You do know, Wilder, that a backdoor man isn’t just a guy who’s having an affair with a married woman?” She watched his jaw go lax. He didn’t know. She could have some fun with this. “Back in your day—the olden days, maybe, but now it means a guy who prefers anal sex.”
Wilder’s face turned strawberry red. “You sure about that?” “I’m sure. No anal penetration, according to Hoff.”
“Christ, why don’t things just stay the way they were?”
“What would be the fun in that?”
Kennedy laughed all the way to her car. Wilder didn’t.
When they got there she got serious. “Preliminary tox screens will be back tomorrow. There were no needle marks or other marks on the body except for the bruising around the neck. And the crime lab called. The fingerprints on the photo of Liz Clayton were Hershey’s. His and some kid’s down in the mailroom were the only clear prints on the envelope.”
Wilder’s color was back to normal. “The way the whole place was carrying on around Hershey’s desk, I’m impressed that only two people left prints.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve got officers still out there knocking on doors. Who knows? We might get lucky. Maybe they’ll find something useful.”
Kennedy nodded. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
“Somebody must’ve seen something when the murders were going down. It’s not like this area is quiet. People roam around at all times of the day and night.”
“According to Ms. Trixy Truelove of Trixy’s Toy Box fame, there were plenty of people around when Liz Clayton was murdered,” Kennedy reminded him.
“No, she said the people were there after she found the body. They probably came running when they heard the sirens coming.”
Smiling, Wilder stood next to the Mustang while Kennedy got in and closed the door. “Trixy’s Toy Box. Ever shop there, Kenny?”
She shot him a look. “Aren’t you the funny guy?”
“I try.”
“Seriously, Wilder, I’m sure a witness or two exists out there. We just need to convince them to remember that fact.” She took a piece of grape taffy from the bag in her jacket pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth. She held out the bag to Wilder.
“No thanks. I’m cutting back on sweets.” He grimaced. “Plus I hate that shit.”
“I know. More for me.” She smiled wickedly, tucking the bag of taffy back in the inside pocket of her jacket.
“How do you stay so damn thin eating the crap you eat? Are you secretly exercising or something?”
“Not unless you call active avoidance of exercise an exercise.” “Nah, I wouldn’t say that qualifies.”
She turned her key and the Mustang’s engine roared to life. “I’ll catch you back at the department, Wilder.”
“Okay, see you there. Hopefully it won’t take long to figure out where the BEFORE photo was taken. Then we can trace the vic’s movements, maybe get an ID.”
She watched Wilder walk to his car with envy. Not because he was a good man, a good cop, or the man who’d taught her so much. Not because he was a link to her father and told her wonderful stories about him. Not because he was happily married to a wonderful woman Kennedy adored. Nope.
She envied him because he was a man with a car that had air conditioning. One that would cool off in less than five minutes.
In five minutes, Kennedy would still be sweating like a pig.
CHAPTER TEN
FRANK STOOD IN FRONT OF ED’S DESK AND LOOSENED HIS TIE
.
The man looks like a tick about to pop, Ed thought
as he watched his boss fidget.
Frank gave the piece of knotted cloth a final jerk. “Anything of interest in the morning mail run?”
“No, Frankie. Not a damned thing. I wish the son of a bitch would contact me again. I hate sitting around with my thumb up my ass.” Ed stood and began pacing the floor behind his desk. “The cops took the first picture and won’t tell us anything.”
The older man sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “It’s probably just as well. A couple of Metro cops are here checking our mail as it comes in. But the good news is they can’t open it. Until they get a court order like they did with Hadley Cox, we still get first dibs.”
“Are you on top of that, Frankie? Have you got our lawyers working on this?”
“We’ve got the legal department handling it. They should be able to stall a while. Of course if we don’t get any other pictures or correspondence from the killer, we won’t need the legal support.”
Ed stopped pacing. “Maybe the killer won’t hit again. Just because he contacted us once, doesn’t mean he plans on killing again.”
“The man likes the spotlight.” Frank picked at a stain on his loosened tie. “Of course he’ll do it again.”
“Shouldn’t we hope yesterday was a one-time deal?”
“That’s bullshit.” Frank leaned forward, still gripping his tie, and lowered his voice. “You want the publicity as much as the station needs it. We’re not exactly at the top of the rating polls. I hate to see anyone else murdered either, but God Almighty, the woman was just a prostitute.”
“Christ, Frankie.” Ed dropped back down on his seat. “That’s fucking cold.”
“Yeah right, Hersh. I’m ashamed of myself. Everyone in this place is thinking the same thing. I just happen to be the only one who has the balls to say it out loud. Our ratings suck. A good murder spree could improve them.”
“Especially if yours truly is the recipient of crime scene photos?” Ed tipped his head to one side, keeping his eyes on his boss.
“You got it. Everyone watches the news when it’s bad. Murder is fascinating to most people.”
“It’s still wrong.”
“I’m not saying it’s not. But no one here wants the brass coming in and cleaning house.” Frank leaned back in the chair and rested his folded hands on the swell of his stomach. “I hear your name is at the top of the list, Hersh. If the ratings don’t improve, you may be out of a job.”
“Well, the brass doesn’t know shit. I’m the best thing this station has going for it. They’d do well to remember that. If I had a good team behind me, our ratings would burst through the roof. Hell, the station is lucky I haven’t moved on to the big show yet. The networks would gobble me up if I decided to steer my career in that direction. But for now, I’m happy here.”
“Blow me, Hersh.” Frank stood. “You’d be out of here in two seconds flat if you got an offer from one of the networks. Don’t try and bullshit the King of Bullshit. Your chance at a network desk already came—and went just as fast.”
He turned to leave, took a step and then hesitated. A look of remorse crossed the man’s face.
“Hersh, I’m sorry I said what I did. You’re good at what you do and the networks are going to realize it one of these days.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll stop by after the next mail run comes through. If you get any updates in the meantime, give me a shout.”
“Sure, Frankie. I’ll let you know if I hear anything. By the way, look over by the break room. There’s your blonde with the big tits. Go grab her before she gets away.”
Frank’s whole body straightened as he turned to look. “Good idea. Catch you later.”
Ed watched the old guy wobble over to the break room, and heard the blonde’s phony squeal of laughter a few seconds later. Frankie was okay. The poor bastard always did have a hard time insulting anyone. He couldn’t resist apologizing as soon as he got in a good strike.
But maybe Frank was right. No, that wasn’t possible. After all, he was fucking Ed Hershey. He just needed another break.
Andy stopped by his desk, ruining his internal pep talk. “Hey, Mr. Hershey, how’s it hangin’?”
“Everything is hanging fine, Andy.” With the exception of every time you open your mouth.
“I was wondering if you got to see my piece on the watering ban last night.” Andy beamed like a kid wearing a gold star.
“I did. It was good.” Ed had no idea what the younger man was rattling on
about.
“Not as exciting as you’re used to doing, I’m sure.”
“No, I found it very interesting.” If I’d seen it, I’m sure I’d have been bored shitless.
The kid’s beaming smile grew wider for a moment, before he wiped it from his face. “Did you get any more letters from the killer?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I heard you received letters from a killer before.” He pulled the chair Frank had just vacated closer to Ed’s desk. “Tell me about it.”
As irritating as Andy could be, Ed couldn’t resist bragging. He tipped back in his chair and crossed his hands, resting them on top of his head. “I was the man back then. A killer by the name of Hadley Cox was terrorizing Las Vegas. He’d kill women and then send me letters detailing the murders and where to find the bodies.”
“Wow, that’s pretty cool.”
“No, it wasn’t cool, Andy. When I read the details of what Hadley Cox had done to the first girl he murdered, I puked until I thought I’d hurl my balls.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, that’s not too cool.”
Ed grunted, satisfied he’d put an end to the annoying young man’s cheery attitude.
“It became a game to Cox. He gave hints in the letters where he might strike next or how the cops might find him. The letters put me in the spotlight and got the networks’ attention. It was almost like I could do no wrong.
“With the exception of the Vegas Police Department, everyone thought I was doing a good thing.”
“You must have done something right.”
“Maybe. I think Hadley Cox knew how hard I’d fight to keep control of the letters. I wasn’t going to let the cops shut me down until I’d gotten every scrap of news out of them I could get.”
“I can only imagine how great it would be to have the networks calling.”
“It’s a great ride. The big house, the fancy car, famous friends, a couple magazine covers and a few talk show appearances. As a matter of fact, I met my wife, Vivian, while shooting the cover for News Time Magazine.” His voice softened and he forgot about Andy for a moment. “Beautiful, beautiful, Vivian. We were married for six months.”
“What happened?”
Ed cleared his throat. “When Metro Homicide found the killer, everyone lost
intere
st
.
The money was history and the house was gone. Vivian left. I thought it was just a temporary separation, but she met someone else.”
Bitterly, Ed remembered Vivian’s perfect manicure as she’d had handed him the divorce papers, a cruel smile curling her lips. The next thing he knew, she’d gone after Nicolas Campenelli.
“That sucks, Mr. Hershey. Maybe you’ll get another big break soon.” “Another break would be nice.”
Andy nodded. “I’m working on a new piece this week. The fire at that kennel, Paradise Keepers. It killed thirty-two animals. I’ve got some interviews lined up with some of the dead pet’s owners. They’re taking the deaths pretty hard.”
“People do get attached to their pets.”
Andy pushed back his chair and stood. “I need to run. I’ll catch you later.” “See you around, Andy.” Hopefully not any time soon.