Page 85 of D for Dead

WHORE.

That would get her thinking.

He took a moment to admire his handiwork, then, whistling to himself, he slipped out of the garage and headed back down the street to his car. As he crossed the road, he passed one of the police officers – a youngish man with russet hair and a cowlick. He recognised him as the other cop who’d entered Amy’s building earlier, the one who’d exited the building ahead of his partner looking pissed off, smoking a cigarette and cursing at himself, before heading down to the river to join his colleagues.

He kept it casual, confident: a passer-by in the street, going about his business. The cop was looking at his cell phone, but hearing footsteps glanced up; their eyes met briefly. He gave an easy smile. The cop didn’t smile back, immediately returning his attention to his phone. No sign of suspicion; none the wiser. His smile widening, he made his way back to his car.

* * *

Rebecca and Hickok spent the afternoon canvassing Amy’s neighbourhood in the hope that someone might have seen something that would lead them to Leon Pruitt’s killer. The crime scene was free of blood, Pruitt having been murdered in a different location and dumped by the river, probably in the early hours of the morning. Two tiny marks on the back of his neck indicated he had been subdued, probably with some kind of stun gun and most likely while he was still on duty at the Velvet Lounge. He had then been taken to wherever he had been killed.

It would have been messy, Withers told them. Ligature marks suggested the doorman had been strung upside down and the killer had slit his jugular, leaving him to bleed out. There would have been a lot of blood and the spray would have gotten everywhere, making it unlikely the kill had taken place in someone’s house. Whoever had carried out the deed had been thoughtful enough to fill a vial with Pruitt’s blood and post it to Amy, along with the copy of her book, Blood Crime. It seemed the killer wanted to make it clear to her that she was the catalyst for his murder spree.

Jake was with her right now, as Amy had agreed to undergo hypnotherapy. It might lead to nothing, but they needed to understand what had happened to Amy before her car accident; retrieve the missing piece of memory to complete that part of the puzzle.

Rebecca didn’t think it was a wise idea, the two of them spending time together, but it made sense Jake be the one to take her to Shinnick’s office given his relationship with the doctor. She knew a little about his past in Atlanta and what had happened. Jake didn’t like to talk about it, but he’d opened up a couple of times, and she knew the doctor had helped him.

Rivers, meanwhile, was over at the Velvet Lounge. The staff who had been working Saturday night had all been asked to come in and give statements.

Rebecca rubbed at her temples, feeling the dull throb of a headache starting. It had been a long day and she would give anything for a soak in the tub and a cold bottle of beer. They had several more tenants to question before she would get either. At the moment their prime suspect was Amy’s ex-boyfriend, David Gavin. It was too coincidental he had returned to Juniper a week before the murders started.

She glanced at the photograph in her hand. Gavin was a good-looking man: wide eyes, strong jawline, thick wavy brown hair. He appeared pleasant enough in the picture Amy had provided them with, but Rebecca knew looks could be deceiving. Information they had uncovered suggested Gavin was a controlling man with a temper. He had been arrested before, once for a bar fight and another time for road rage after smashing the windshield of a car he’d claimed had cut him up. Amy insisted he had never been physically violent towards her, but as their relationship progressed he had become jealous and possessive, and he liked to play mind games. It was for those reasons she had ended the relationship and Gavin wouldn’t be the type to react well to being dumped.

The fact he hadn’t surfaced also added suspicion. The only confirmation they had he was back in town were the three withdrawals he had made from various ATMs, all for large amounts, suggesting he was keeping low and paying with cash to avoid leaving any electronic trace. The cigarette butts Jake had found were also a match, so they knew Gavin was watching Amy. Watching her and also committing murder because of her?

They had his cell phone number, but it was going to voicemail and there was no signal trace, indicating he was no longer using it. Rebecca suspected he’d switched to a disposable phone they wouldn’t be able to link to him.

All too coincidental, but maybe a bit too convenient; Gavin had a hot temper, whereas the murders had taken considerable planning and staging. They seemed too controlled for a man of his nature. Then there were the fan letters. Amy had received them before and during her relationship with Gavin. Had he sent stalker fan mail to his own girlfriend? Rebecca suspected the letters were sent by someone else but, as forensics had been unable to pull any prints, they had no way of confirming who was responsible and it was proving to be another dead end.

A lot of clues for them to work with, but none of them adding up.

‘You want to grab a beer?’ Hickok asked, as they finally finished early evening.

No one had seen anything. It had been a long and futile day.

Stopping off for a beer was tempting and there was no intimation he meant anything other than a drink, but still Rebecca hesitated. This was dangerous ground and, after Saturday, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself around Hickok.

You nearly kissed him.

She thought back to Alan. Good, solid, trusting Alan. She hadn’t kissed Hickok, but the temptation had been there. Alan did not deserve that.

‘I’ll pass, thanks. I just want to get home and soak in the tub.’ At Hickok’s raised brow and widening grin, she added, ‘Alone.’

‘No plans with Adam tonight?’

‘We’re both busy with work.’ She’d given up correcting him. He only did it to annoy her so it was best to ignore him.

‘Guess the plastic spoon industry calls for some late nights.’

‘Something like that.’

Truth was, she’d been avoiding Alan over the last few days. He wanted to talk and Alan only ever wanted to talk if it was about something serious. She suspected it was to give her an ultimatum or call time on their relationship. If it was the latter she guessed she couldn’t really blame him. After all, she hadn’t been the best of girlfriends. Regardless of what it was, Rebecca didn’t have the time to deal with it right now. And she sure as hell didn’t need Hickok on the scene if she was about to get dumped.

‘So what’s the plan with you two? You gonna get married, squeeze out a couple of kids?’

Don’t bite.

‘You realise if you have kids with him there’s a fifty per cent chance they’ll turn out to be dorks?’