Deadly Consequences (3 page)

Lombardo pulled a handkerchief out of his suit coat pocket and mopped up the sweat dripping down his face. “Listen here, this case is gonna make the news. There’s prob’ly dozens of reporters right now, standing at the gate, chomping at the bit to get a bite of this story. You and me, we’re gonna feed it to them with a nice little spoon. Now the way to do that, the
best
way to do that, is to tell them we got the suspects in custody.”

Rafe looked at his partner in disbelief. “You can’t pin this on them just to get a news bite.”

“Now that’s just plain insulting.” Lombardo jammed his handkerchief back in his pocket and started walking. “You know me better than that. I like them for it.” He came to an abrupt stop, looking around. “Where the hell did we leave Matsuda?”

“Down over there, to the right, by the end of the lagoon.” Rafe pointed.

“Oh, yeah, right. I got a little twisted around,” Lombardo grunted.

“That’s because we went tearing off after those kids so fast, we don’t even know for sure if there is a body.”

“There’s a body. If the M.E. is here, there’s definitely a body.” Lombardo took off his suit jacket, slinging it over his shoulder. “The loot’s going to be impressed when she sees how quick and clean this all went down. All we gotta do now is wait till the body’s dug up, book those assholes and then we’re ready for our close-ups.”

“I think you’re trippin’, dude. I got a bad feeling this isn’t going to go down as easy as you think,” Rafe said.

Lombardo chuckled and loosened his tie. “And I can’t believe its frickin’ ninety degrees at two in the morning. In May for cripes sake. Unfrickin’believeable. But it’s a damn good night, so I ain’t going to whine about the heat.”

“Thank God for small favors.” Rafe grinned.

Lombardo whistled one of his favorite Sinatra tunes, enjoying his good fortune as they walked along the edge of the lagoon. He picked up a stone and skipped it across the water, watching it ripple. He looked forward to wrapping things up and going home, opening a nice bottle of Chianti, heating up some leftover pasta from Bruna’s in the microwave, and slipping a Tony Rome movie into the DVD player. Hell, he was off tomorrow, if he wanted, he could drink a whole bottle of wine and watch a second movie.

“What the hell, man? What kind of shit did you get us into now?” Rafe nudged Lombardo with his elbow.

“Whaddaya talkin’ about?”

“Damn it, Lombardo, this isn’t our case is it?” Rafe stopped to glare at him. “Don’t try and spin this. I got two eyes and I can see. Why you keep going and messing with Sam’s cases? What is wrong with you?”

Lombardo followed Rafe’s gaze. His eyes narrowed. Sam Black had arrived on the scene and she had Alec Winters with her. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong that I can’t fix.”

Sam ran her hands through her hair. “Who would do something like this?” Her body shuddered. “It’s bad enough he killed the woman, but chopping off her leg? There are no words to describe what I’m thinking right now.”

Alec’s face had a grayish cast. “We don’t see something like this too often,” he admitted. “Hell, we don’t even know if the woman is dead or alive.”

“Unless he has medical training, it’s likely your vic died of a combination of shock and blood loss.” Matsuda offered. “I’ve had amputations come across my table, but usually they’re post mortem and done to make disposing the body easier or identification harder.”

“He wanted her to suffer.” Sam stared at the empty grave. It was a rage killing, pure and simple.
If it was a killing.
Alec was right. They had no way of knowing if the victim was dead or alive. She turned to Alec. “We need to keep looking.”

Sam instructed the uniforms to fan out, extending the search for the UNSUB to include areas where he may have buried remains. She frowned, letting her gaze wander over the boathouse and concession stands. It was possible that the perp was still on zoo property. There were too many places to hide, too many places the UNSUB could wait until morning, blending in with the crowds to make his escape.

“Detective Black.” One of the officers raised his hand. “I heard over the radio that the UNSUBS have been taken into custody.”

Her head swiveled in his direction. “Where did you hear that?”

“He heard it from me.” A voice boomed from behind them.

Sam clenched her fists, feeling her body tense. “Lombardo,” she hissed through gritted teeth. She watched him swagger down the grassy patch, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Rafe and I wrapped things up nice and tight for you, Sam-I-Am. Good thing too. While you and lover boy were ditzing around over here, the punks were getting away.” Lombardo swung his jacket over his right shoulder. “There’s no reason for you and Alec to hang around.”

Anger throbbed in her temples. Lombardo was becoming a real pain in her ass. “Dispatch said security apprehended a group of teenagers on the grounds, and were holding them. If I’m not mistaken, these are the same kids who reported finding the victim, so do you want to explain to me exactly how you and Rafe managed to
apprehend
them?”

“Sam.” Lombardo smiled and tossed his arm over her shoulder, speaking to her as if she were a child, “The kids ran. They’re guilty. The case is closed.”

She shrugged his arm off and looked him straight in the eye. “It’s my case, my call. What the hell are you even doing here?”

“Call came over the radio, and we were in the neighborhood. It being a Saturday night and all, we decided to lend a hand. Far as we knew, Alec was still on vacation.” He leaned in close, whispering so only she could hear. “You want to waste taxpayer’s money and turn this into a three ring circus, that’s on you. But do you really want to make a scene in front of all these officers, Sweetcheeks?”

Fuming, Sam jerked away, knowing he was right. She didn’t need to air their differences in front of an audience. Until recently, she never had a problem with him. He was a decent enough cop. Mid-forties, old school, from his taste in music, to the tailored suit and tie he wore each day. Word at the precinct was that since he’d put in his twenty, he was looking to go out in a blaze of glory, waiting to catch that one big case that would get his name in the headlines

Lombardo resented her for one reason. She was Alec Winter’s partner.

In the ten years that Alec worked out of the 18
^th
Precinct, he’d earned a reputation as a playboy cop, media darling, and homicide dick extraordinaire. He became a magnet for sensational cases, attracting national attention.

Sam’s trouble started six months ago, after a cable TV producer approached Alec, offering him a lucrative deal to base a series on Alec’s life and a position as a series consultant. Alec turned the offers down, but since then Lombardo was convinced that Alec was his ticket to a big city homicide cop’s trifecta – a glossy book deal, stints on the late night talk shows, and all the women he could handle.

In Lombardo’s fantasy world, she was the only thing standing in his way.

A nerve twitched over her eye. She could feel the gaze of the officers on them while they waited for their orders. Sam grabbed Lombardo’s arm, pulling him off to the side. “Let me tell you something
Jay Lombardo
. If you want to make a fool of yourself and your partner, that’s on you, but you are not going to bring me down with you. You want to help work this case, you do what I say. Do we understand each other?”

He smirked. “Whatever you say, Sweetcheeks, it’s your funeral. Oh, and don’t expect me to send flowers.”

Lombardo brushed past her, knocking her off balance. She grabbed onto his suit jacket, yanking him back.

“Hey,” he slapped her hand away. “Don’t wrinkle the jacket.”

Knowing everyone was still watching, she forced herself to smile. “One more thing, detective. Call me Sweetcheeks again and you won’t be able to pee for a week.”

For a minute, she thought he was going to haul off and slug her. She raised her chin, daring him to try. To her surprise, his scowl faded and he broke into a grin. “Sam Black, you are one crazy broad, but at least you got balls.” His face hardened. “Too bad I’m going to crush them.”

Sam averted her eyes as the limb was loaded onto a gurney. The severed leg was harder to look at than a dead body. She didn’t know why, it just was.

“Holy frickin’ crap,” Lombardo’s jaw dropped. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a chicken leg, Lombardo, what the hell do you think,” Sam snapped. Just because she told him that he could stay and work the case didn’t mean she had to stoop to his level. “
That
is our victim,” she said without looking at the gurney.

Lombardo’s jaw dropped. He swung his head left and right, scanning the area. “You’re shittin’ me right? Where’s the rest of her?”

He looked dumbfounded. Sam snuck a quick glance at the severed limb, rubbing her arms against a sudden chill. If a jaded detective like Lombardo was shocked, they truly were dealing with a monster.

“That’s all we’ve got.” She told him, unable to resist a quick jab. “You still think it’s a good idea to call off the search, hotshot?”

Lombardo puffed out his chest, his eyes measuring her. She held her ground, returning his stare. Without saying a word, he hooked his thumb in his pocket, and stomped towards the gurney for a closer look.

Sam watched him go, wondering why she agreed to let him stay. He was going to make the investigation that much harder. Pressing her palms against her eyes, she shook off her irritation and walked over to Matsuda. “Can you tell how long ago the leg was amputated?”

Matsuda shrugged. “Best guess, within the last twelve hours. With this heat, decomposition escalates. I’ll know more after it’s on my table.”

Unidentified victims were her Achilles heel. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to make an ID…from that?” Sam gestured towards the limb, gnawing on a thumbnail. She hating thinking that somewhere in the city, a family waited at home, worrying about a loved one. Based on experience, nothing was worse than the anxiety of not knowing,

“The chances are slim, but not totally impossible.” Matsuda peeled off his latex gloves. “We can get DNA from her toenails, which won’t do much good if her DNA isn’t in the system. Of course, you could get lucky and get a match to a missing person.”

“If the amputation is less than forty-eight hours old, a report won’t even be filed yet. Damn it,” Sam swore. She didn’t understand a system that worked against victims.

“Or, there’s one other way.” Matsuda glanced back at the leg and shrugged. “If she was ever treated by a podiatrist, it’s possible we can identify her from the records. There’s even a chance we could get a match by marks from objects her foot came in contact with, like shoes and ground surfaces.”

Sam glanced at Alec. They both knew the odds of getting a positive ID were slim to none.

“Do we even know for sure if it’s a she?” Lombardo interrupted. “Could be one of them she-males that like to dress like dames. Could be why someone whacked her.”

“No.” Matsuda cringed at Lombardo’s crude choice of words. “It’s a female.”

Tuning out the conversation, Sam crouched, moving her flashlight over the ground. Portable floodlights had been set up, but the glare reflecting off the wet grass made it difficult to see.

“No blood splatters,” she observed, leaning her arms on her thighs. “What time does the zoo close, anybody know?”

Rafe spent the last half hour looking uncomfortable. He hadn’t said a word since he and Lombardo arrived on the scene. “Pretty sure they close at six,” he said, “Around eight and a half hours ago.”