Authors: Teri Riggs
“I see your point.”
Kennedy irritated, broke in. “If you two’re finished with the chit-chat, can we get down to business here?”
“Kennedy’s got lead on this one. Can you tell?” Wilder looked at Mandi, a crooked half-smile plastered in place. “She gets a bit testy if she has to mingle too much. It’s all about the job, 24/7, if you know what I mean. She’s the one who could use a two week cruise.”
Kennedy ignored the shared laugh between her partner and the
analy
st
.
She was always serious when it came to murder. And when it came to the victim, if it took 24/7 to solve the case, that’s what she gave.
Kennedy turned to Mandi. “What have we got so far?”
“Not much. Your girl’s been dead anywhere from two to five hours. Hard to say in this heat, but the ME can pin it down for you a little better when the body’s autopsied.” She pointed a gloved hand to the victim’s upper torso. “Bruising around her throat indicates strangulation as probable cause of death.”
Wilder’s eyes narrowed. “Ya think?”
Mandi ignored his sarcasm. “Again, we’ll know more when the ME gets her on the table.” She lifted a piece of the woman’s hair. “It’s a wig.”
Mandi’s eyes surveyed the alley. “It’s a fairly big crime scene area. We’ve still got several hours of work to put in here. We’ll get the gathered evidence over to the ‘white coats’ ASAP.”
Wilder held his arms out and bent in a mock bow. “Ah, the Forensic Scientists, the lab-gods.”
Mandi said, “Isn’t that the truth? Even as we speak, they’re sitting on their lab-god butts, working in the nice air-conditioned labs while we sweat our asses off out here.”
Kennedy felt her face flush. Patience was not her strong suit. She leaned to one side, then to the other. Her left foot tapped rapidly.
Mandi cleared her throat and quickly got back to the job. “See the envelope tucked neatly into her halter top? I’ll leave it in place so you can check it out. When you’re finished, hand it off to one of the techs to bag and tag.”
Kennedy eyed the envelope peeking out from the halter. “Thanks.” She turned to Wilder. “Okay, partner, you heard the lady. Let’s get a closer look.” They looked up as the cursing from inside the dumpster grew louder. And more creative. Definitely more creative.
Wilder swept his arm in a large circle. “Mandi, that’s our cue to let you get back to your fun and games.”
“You’re all heart, Wilder.” Mandi looked in the direction of the frustrated shouting. “I guess I’ll go supervise the dumpster diving.”
Mandi walked away past a baby-faced officer gulping air like a fish out of water.
Kennedy crossed over to stand next to him. “You first on scene?” His spine straightened. “Yes, Detective.”
“Well?”
“Oh... sorry. I was on patrol when the body... umm, I mean when the 419 call came in. I arrived on scene less than five minutes later, a little past 0300 hours. I didn’t see anyone else in the alley at that time. I checked for a pulse and secured the scene, then called it in.”
He removed his hat and ran a hand through close-cropped black hair heavy with sweat. His skin looked gray in the poor light from the street. She and Wilder exchanged a knowing glance.
“You okay, Officer—?”
“Green. Lincoln Green. I’m okay. It’s just the smell. Nothing like the books at the Academy described.”
Officer Green? How appropriate. Kennedy could sympathize—so long as it didn’t interfere with her crime scene. “First dead body?”
He shook his head. “First murder. I’ve worked a few traffic fatalities. I’ve seen plenty of blood and guts, but none of those victims were this ripe. And the flies. My God, there’s a swarm of them.”
She nodded. “It’s the heat. Speeds up decomp. The first flies start circling about thirty minutes after TOD.”
He looked blank.
“You did learn that at the Academy didn’t you?” She shooed away a few more
flies.
“Yes, ma’am, I did. I didn’t mean to sound—”
Kennedy interrupted. “Vinegar soaked gauze or a wad of menthol rub under the nose will help. I know you’ve heard that before. Keep whatever works in your patrol car.” She snorted. “Or better yet, just get used to the smell.”
Wilder’s lips thinned. “Your empathy knows no bounds, Kenny.”
She held up her hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to help the rookie out.”
She tuned Wilder out as he offered his two cents worth, obviously hoping the kid would relax a little. Her partner was good at that, but couldn’t he save it for later?
“Yes siree, back in the good old days, all you had to do was light up a nice, smelly cigar. A good, strong stogy could drown out any smell.”
Kennedy cut Wilder’s trip down memory lane short. “Do we know who called this in, officer?”
“Yes, ma’am. One Trixy Truelove, the owner of Miss Trixy’s Toy Box.” He paused for a moment, fished around in his uniform’s shirt pocket and pulled out a notebook. “Miss Trixy’s shop sells sex toys.”
Kennedy snorted. “And?”
Wilder’s brow narrowed and a frown crossed his face. “Come on, Kenny.” He looked back at the rookie. “Go on, kid. You got anything else in that notebook?”
“Yes, sir.” Officer Green continued. “Her shop’s backdoor is located two doors down from the dumpster where the body was left. Miss Trixy was taking out the trash when she found the victim.”
He flipped through the small notebook. “Miss Trixy said she saw the body before stepping into the alley, turned around and ran back into her shop. She stated she could see people milling around on the sidewalks and streets, but she didn’t notice anyone in the alley itself.”
Wilder’s eyebrows relaxed. “Any other witnesses?”
“Not yet, Detective. Officers Kane and Littlefield are canvassing the area.”
Kennedy looked past the young officer and grabbed another quick glance at the crime scene. When she turned back, she noted he was no longer sucking air like a fish out of water.
Well, well, well. Officer Green made it through his first murder scene without tossing his cookies.
Kennedy almost smiled. “Do we have a name on our victim?”
“I’m afraid not, Detective. Miss Trixy says the victim was a regular on this block, but she didn’t know her name.”
“We’ll need to talk to Ms. Trixy. Is she in her shop?”
“Yes, Detective O’Brien. Officer Monty is with her.” He flipped another page in his notebook. “No ID on the body. No purse either.”
Wilder’s chin came up, his eyebrows raised. “No purse? Maybe someone lifted it before Officer Green arrived.”
Kennedy shrugged, studying the body. “You’re probably right. The victim had to have a place to keep money, condoms, probably a cell phone. I don’t see any pockets on her clothes.” Like the woman could squeeze anything into pockets on clothes that tight.
“Could have been the killer lifted her purse, not a passerby,” Wilder said. “Maybe he helped himself to a refund.”
Kennedy turned to Green. “If there’s a purse in this area, I want it found. If it’s not recovered nearby, expand the search area and get the dumpster divers to check all trash containers in a five block radius. Keep me updated.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered enthusiastically before taking off to put Kennedy’s orders in motion. Green’s shell-shocked appearance had morphed into one bright with the anticipation and excitement of the investigation.
Kennedy returned to her perusal of the dead body. Hot pink, thigh-high fishnet stockings were ripped at the knees, and her tiny skirt had twisted up high over her thighs. The right strap of her halter top lay loose across her chest and one mile-high stiletto sat dismally in the center of the alley. Three bright-red fake nails had been snapped off clear to the nail beds. One of the CSU techs had already bagged and tagged the shoe and broken acrylic nails. The victim’s hands were secured in plastic bags.
“She struggled with her killer. Her make-up and clothes are fucking train wrecks, but her wig, other than being tipped a little to one side, doesn’t look half bad. Why?”
“Hairspray?”
“Get real.” Kennedy bent over to get a closer look at the dead woman’s hair. “It’s a damn good wig, but I think the killer took time to smooth it.”
“Hair fetish?” Wilder squatted next to Kennedy, his fifty-year-plus old knees snapping, crackling, and popping. Using a pen from his jacket pocket, he pushed the wig up just enough to see the dark hair beneath. “Here’s her real hair.”
“Bet she paid some big bucks for the wig.” Kennedy straightened. Wiping the sweat from his neck, Wilder nodded in agreement. “You ready to check out the envelope?”
Kennedy’s eyes shifted. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Wilder said, “Go ahead, open it.”
Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Kennedy retrieved the envelope and carefully opened it.
Wilder blew raspberries, making a mock drum roll sound with his lips. “And the winner is...”
Kennedy lifted a brow. “Are you finished?”
“I guess so. But Holy shit, Kennedy, you’ve got to loosen up a little.” “I’ve got a killer to find. I’ll loosen up later.”
“Sure you will.” He nodded at the envelope. “What have we got?”
Touching one corner only, she carefully pulled a photo from the envelope.
“It’s a picture of our victim... alive. Looks like this was taken at a coffee shop. I’m not sure where. She’s with another woman.”
Kennedy showed Wilder the picture. The victim was cradling a large mug in her hands and smiling. The other woman sat across the table from her.
“From what I can see, it appears her companion is a hooker, too... or a really slutty dresser. Check this out.”
She pointed to the top of the picture. Above the victim’s head, written in bold, black letters was the word
BEFORE
.
“You know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”
Kennedy stared at the picture a few moments longer. “Yeah. The killer had his eye on her, watching her, stalking her.” She tilted the picture. “He knew who he was going after, and when, and where to find her.”
“Could have been one of her johns not happy with past services rendered? Or maybe a pissed off pimp.”
“Let’s find her pimp or her service and get a list of her regular johns. If she doesn’t have one, maybe she kept a record of regulars somewhere. We need to get her ID’ed as soon as possible.”
“Yep.” Wilder scribbled notes in his little book. “And let’s see if we can find
out who the other woman is in the photo. Pinpointing the coffee shop might
help.”
Kennedy fanned the picture lightly. “Whoever the bastard is, I’ll bet he kept a photo or two for himself.”
She focused on the picture, blocked out everything else for a moment.
Wilder snapped his fingers. “You’ve got that cop-in-the-zone thing going on. Got something you want to share?”
“Just thinking things through.”
Kennedy pictured it in her mind. Yeah, the killer had more than one picture. The bastard kept a photo as a souvenir. Maybe more than one. Her mind’s eye spit out questions like a winning slot machine coughing up coins. How long had he followed his victim? Was she someone he knew? Someone he loved? Or hated?
Wilder passed her an evidence bag as he stood, dragging her mind back to the present. “Bag it and we’ll get a closer look after the techs check it for prints. Maybe they can pull some DNA from the saliva used to seal the envelope.”
She flipped the envelope over, then back. “There won’t be any saliva. It’s one of those peel and stick jobs.”
“So it is. Hey, you’re getting’ good at this job!”
“I had a good mentor.” She gave him a wink, and stood as she bagged the envelope and picture, then handed them over to a passing tech.
“Nah, Kenny, I only taught you the skills. You’re good at this job because you care.”
Kennedy wasn’t sure what to say to that so she didn’t say anything. Wilder would understand.
“Miss Trixy’s had enough time to chill. Let’s go see what she has to say.”
“Yeah, it’ll feel good to get out of the heat for a few minutes.” Kennedy followed her partner to the woman’s shop.
Trixy Truelove had to be at least eighty years old, but had the feistiness of a twenty year old. Her hair was dyed jet-black, making her pale skin appear paper white. Her voice had the raspy tone of a long time pack-a-day smoker.
“Come in Detectives. I’m just enjoying a cup of tea with Officer Monty here.” She smiled at the uniformed officer. “Can I get either of you a cup?”
“Not for me, Miss Trixy.”
Wilder shook his head.
Kennedy took the seat next to the older woman. “Miss Truelove, what time did you find the body?”
“Just a little before three.”