Hunter's Way (10 page)

“Okay. But I want to stay until the husband gets here.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go write this up and give the lab a call, see if they have results back yet.”

Sam nodded. She touched Tori’s forearm as she walked past, squeezing gently. Tori’s eyes followed the slim fingers as they wound themselves around her arm, then watched them slip away just as quickly. As she walked to her desk, her hand touched her skin where Sam’s fingers had been.

It was different. She wasn’t used to people touching her. Not like that. Not so casually as if it were second nature. Sam was obviously an affectionate person and touching was part of it. She should have known that from their time spent in the tunnel. Sam’s hands had been on her for nearly two hours.

God, who would have thought she could ever tolerate this? She smiled as she opened up the file on her computer. She’d known Sam three weeks. And in three weeks’ time, Sam had become more of a partner to her than all the others combined. Sam ignored her moods, ignored the rumors she’d heard about Tori, ignored the fact that she was gay. And if Tori wasn’t careful, they would end up being good friends. When’s the last time that happened?

She typed quickly, making the few notes of their conversation with Mrs. Anderson. Then she picked up the phone and dialed the lab. It had only been a few hours, but she would push.

“It’s Hunter. Is Jackson around?”

“He’s still in the lab.”

“Can you page him? I need to know if you have anything yet. We got a positive ID on the victim,” she said.

“We got it. Rachel Anderson. It’ll be a couple of hours on the report. He’s put a rush on it, Hunter.”

“Call me as soon as you get it.”

“Don’t we always?”

“Sara, who are you kidding? If I didn’t hound you to death, I’d have to wait days.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll call, Hunter. The Mayor’s office has already been checking on it.”

“What? Why the hell did they call? It’s not their fucking case,” she exclaimed, her voice rising.

“Hey, the Mayor outranks you, okay?”

“Call me first,” she growled. “I mean it.” She slammed the phone down. “Idiots.”

“That had to have been the lab,” Samantha said as she pulled out her chair. “What’s going on?”

“Mayor’s office called them instead of us. You wouldn’t think a few hookers getting whacked would stir up things quite so much,” she said.

“I thought we decided it wasn’t because they were hookers.”

“They don’t know that.” Tori stood and grabbed the file and the reports she had printed out last night. “Come on. Let’s go over it with Malone.”

“You know, if you want to skip the workout tonight, I won’t mind,” Sam said as she followed Tori.

“What about your upper body?”

“What about it?”

Tori stopped and stared, her eyes moving slowly up from Sam’s waist, pausing briefly at her breasts, then up to her face.

“Well, it looks fine to me. You’re the one that thought it needed work.”

Sam put her hands on her hips.

“Were you just checking me out?”

Tori grinned. “Of course not. I did that the first day.”

Sam stood rooted to the spot as Tori walked into the Lieutenant’s office.

“Kennedy? You going to join us or what?” Malone called.

She walked in, intentionally bumping Tori’s arm as she sat down next to her. She was rewarded with a quick grin.

“Okay, let’s hear what you have,” he said.

“Jane Doe Number One. Street name Lorraine. Strangled. Left in Dumpster in East Dallas. Got DNA on four semen samples. No matches in the database. Jane Doe Number Two. Street name Crystal. Strangled. Left in Dumpster in the downtown area. Semen match from first Jane Doe. Now, Rachel Anderson. Left in Dumpster in Little Mexico.” Tori glanced up. “Belly ripped open. She’s the only one of the three that was naked. We got rope fibers and wood fibers. Rachel Anderson was bound. All three were sodomized.” She looked at Malone. “Rachel Anderson wasn’t a hooker. She was gay, according to her mother. The tattoo on Lorraine, it traced back to a gang symbol in New Orleans.” She handed him the copy she’d found on the Internet last night. “The tattoo was altered. The symbol at the bottom indicates she was a lesbian, too.”

“So you don’t think someone’s knocking off working girls?” he asked.

“No. I don’t think it’s random, either. We need to find out something about Crystal. Maybe she was a lesbian, too. That could be our angle.”

Malone leaned forward. “They were hookers, Hunter. Forgive me for my ignorance, but are lesbians hookers?”

“Everybody’s got to make a living, Lieutenant.”

“Unless you get something on this Crystal, I don’t think that’s going to fly. Besides, you don’t really know about Lorraine. Could just be a female thing, this tattoo. Could be, the whole thing is random and it’s just a coincidence that two of them were hookers.”

“We all know that serial killers don’t do anything randomly. Something has to link them.”

“Maybe just the fact that they are women,” Samantha suggested.

“No. They’re all young, under twenty. It’s not random. If it were random, chances are one of them would have been older. Why three teenagers? There has to be a link,” Tori said.

“Find out something about Crystal or verify that tattoo, Hunter. We meet tomorrow at ten. They’ll probably send Jenkins,” he said.

“Are you serious?”

“Most likely.”

“Who is Jenkins?” Sam asked.

“Mayor’s task force,” Malone said. “He and Hunter aren’t exactly kissing cousins.”

“And who is?”

“Very funny,” Hunter said dryly.

“What about the profiler? I think we should bring someone in.”

“Yes. I’ll meet with them,” Samantha said.

Malone looked at Tori. “That okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll call CIU. Get me something else, Hunter.”

“We’re working on it.”

“What are we working on?” Samantha asked as they walked back to their desks.

“I’m going to hit some women’s bars tonight, show our pictures around.”

“I guess you mean
we’re
going to hit some bars tonight,” Sam corrected.

Tori stopped. “That’s not necessary. I can do it.”

“I’m sure you can. But you’re not.”

“Sam, there’s no need for you to come along. I’m just going to show the pictures around, see if anyone knows them.”

“Goddamn it, Hunter. We’re partners. If you’re going out, then I’m going out.”

“You have… a life. You have someone. There’s no need for both of us to be out at midnight.”

“What the hell does that have to do with it?” she demanded. “We work together on this one. And don’t throw up the fact that I
have
someone,” Samantha said. “That’s lame.”

“Okay. Then how about the fact that you won’t fit in? People are more likely to talk to me than to you.”

“I’ve seen you talk to people. I don’t think that will be true.”

Sikes walked over and stood between them, grinning.

“You girls fighting again? Need a referee?”

“Get lost, Sikes,” Tori said, glaring at him.

“Whoa, Hunter, calm down. Just trying to stop a catfight here.”

Tori turned and strode purposefully into the ladies’ room. Samantha followed.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Samantha said.

“Doing what?”

“Taking over. Making all the decisions. We’re partners, Tori. Why the hell don’t you want me going out with you?”

Tori shoved her hands into her jeans and turned to look in the mirror, meeting Samantha’s eyes in the reflection.

“Because the places I’m going, I don’t want you at.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re not… nice places.”

“They’re bars.”

“Leather bars. Sex bars. Not dance clubs,” Tori said.

“And you think I’ll judge you?”

Tori shrugged.

“Do you frequent these places on off hours? Are you afraid someone will recognize you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then?”

Sam walked over and turned Tori to face her.

“I’m not going to judge you based on what I might see tonight, Tori. There are plenty of straight bars that I wouldn’t set foot in. What’s the difference?”

“We need information, Sam. If you go in, looking all wide-eyed and shocked, no one’s going to talk.”

“I’ll be fine. And if someone hits on me, I’ll trust that you’ll take care of them.”

Tori allowed a smile to touch her face and Sam grinned in response.

“Okay. You can go. But… change clothes. Jeans. We need to start about ten.”

“Okay. Meet you back here?”

Tori nodded and watched her walk away. She wondered what Sam would tell Robert.

“Gay bars?”

“Yes, Robert,” Samantha said. She cradled the phone as she pulled on her jeans. “I’m sure it’ll be after midnight before we’re done. I’ll call you tomorrow sometime.”

“Why don’t you just come over here when you’re done?”

“Because it’ll be late, Robert.”

“I could wait up. It’s Friday night, Samantha.”

She bent her head back and stared at the ceiling. Why was he being difficult?

“Robert, please. I’m too tired to argue about this. When we’re done, I’m coming home and going to bed. I’m not coming to your apartment. Now, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“How will I know if you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay? We’re going to some bars, asking questions. That’s all.”

“Samantha, anything could happen. I think you should at least call me when you get home.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.

“I just… worry about you. You’ve had this job barely a month and we’ve hardly seen each other. When we do, you’re always tired. I just don’t like what it’s doing to us.”

“You really want to have this conversation now?” She sat down on her bed and crossed her legs. “This is my job, Robert. Not eight to five. Just like yours is not eight to five. It’s not like I’m going out for a night of fun. I’m working,” she said.

“I know. I’m sorry. I know this is important to you. But… I want to be important to you, too.”

She sighed. It shouldn’t be like this. It was getting much too complicated. He was acting like she was going out on a date, for Christ’s sake.

“Robert, you’re blowing this out of proportion. I’m just working late. That’s all. Now, I’ve got to go. I’m going to get a quick dinner, then head out. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I love you, Samantha. Please be careful.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I love you, too,” she murmured.

She tossed her phone on the bed, staring at it. She was actually surprised by his reaction. When she was still with Assault, she’d had to go out nights on numerous occasions. She never recalled him being this upset by it. Of course, she’d never willingly gone out. She’d always wished she could stay home. With him. This time, it was her choice to go out. In fact, she’d had to practically beg to go out with Tori.

Chapter Sixteen

Samantha walked into the squad room, finding Tori exactly where she thought she’d be. Sitting at her desk, staring at the computer.

Tori looked up, her eyes moving over Sam. Faded jeans, boots, tight T-shirt tucked inside, black belt. No bra? Well, she certainly looked the part.

“Do I pass?”

“Better than me.”

Sam’s eyes flicked over Tori. She had changed into black jeans and a dark shirt. She looked as powerful as always.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “You look nice.” She sat down at her desk and opened the bag she carried. She pulled out containers of Chinese food and tossed Tori a fork. “I took a chance that you hadn’t eaten.” She shoved one of the boxes at her. “Shrimp and chicken, both. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Anything,” Tori said as she took a bite. “Mmm. Thanks.”

Sam smiled and opened her own. She knew Tori would not take the time for dinner. She wondered how she survived at all.

“I assume you didn’t do laundry,” she said. “Did you break down and go to your apartment?”

Tori nodded, still chewing.

“Where is it, anyway?”

“South.”

“South of here? South of Dallas? South of the interstate?”

“What? You want an address?”

Sam shrugged. “I just would like to know where you live.”

“Here, mostly.”

Sam shook her head. “You know that’s not healthy. You have to have some place to escape to.”

“I have my boat.”

“And how often do you go out there?”

“More often in the summer, and why all the questions?” she asked as she stabbed a shrimp with her fork.

Samantha shrugged. “I just don’t know anything about you.”

“I lead a terribly boring life. There’s not really anything to know.”

“All work and no play?”

“Pretty much.”

Samantha knew absolutely nothing about the lesbian lifestyle, but Tori was just so attractive. She couldn’t imagine why she was single. She wondered if she ever dated.

“What thoughts are running through that pretty head of yours?”

“Just… wondering about your love life,” Sam admitted.

Tori laughed. “I’m not exactly a sociable person.”

“You don’t date?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” Tori said dryly.

“One-night stands?”

“I wouldn’t really call it that, either.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Sex for hire?”

Tori laughed again. “I’ve never had to pay.”

Sam watched as Tori stabbed another shrimp and slipped it in her mouth. Yes, attractive. In fact, she was… well, Sam wouldn’t say beautiful. Not in the normal sense. Her skin was nearly flawless and those eyelashes, God, who wouldn’t kill for them? Then those eyelashes opened and dark brown eyes captured her own. Her eyes were warm, gentle. Not the angry, indifferent eyes she’d found that first day.

“Now what are you thinking?”

Sam gave her a quick smile.

“None of your business,” she said and she shoved a forkful of rice into her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Tori asked again. They were parked down the street from the most popular leather bar in the city. She’d watched as Sam’s eyes widened at the sight of a woman wearing a dog collar, being led into the bar on a leash.

“Why did she have a… leash?”

“Dominant-submissive. It’s all about control,” Tori said.