If Looks Could Kill (19 page)

“Jaime, just drive, will you, please?”

 

Dan was being wonderful.

True to his word.

He let Kaila sleep, waking with the kids, getting them fed and dressed. He insisted that she make the most of his free time and go to lunch with her friends.

She played tennis, showered and joined some of her friends in the clubhouse. She didn't have to drive anybody anywhere, so she sipped wine throughout lunch. Toward the end of the meal, the waiter brought a silver tray with a small, beautifully wrapped box on it with a gift tag bearing nothing but her name.

“A secret admirer?” Candy Fox, a petite brunette married to another of the attorneys in Dan's office, inquired.

Kaila shook her head, smiling. “I think it's from Dan. He's been extra sweet lately.”

“See what it is,” suggested Tara Anderson, mother of two, part-time tennis coach at the club, and the third and final member of their lunch party.

She opened the box. Wrapped in delicate pink tissue was a pair of fragile “edible” panties. They were white chocolate with a red candy rose for the crotch. Kaila felt her face turn a million shades of pink.

“Whoa! How…how romantic!” Candy gasped. “How sexy. Boy, are you going to be getting some tonight, honey! I wish David would send me a gift like that now and then. The man is such a boob. On my birthday he goes out and buys me kitchen utensils!”

They were beginning to draw attention from nearby tables. Kaila quickly closed the box, flushing. “It's strange….”

“What's strange?” Tara asked her.

Kaila shrugged. “It's just…it's just not like Dan. He did send me flowers recently, but most of the time, well, he's a kitchen-utensil kind of man, too.”

“Did you have a fight?” Candy asked. “You know how guys like to suck up after a fight!”

“No, not really. In a way, but it's already over. I mean, he's home watching the kids, being just great.”

“A man home all day with his little kids—no wonder the edible lingerie. He's already planning to ease his frustrations!” Tara announced.

“Maybe,” Kaila murmured.

“Honey, he's on a romantic binge! Enjoy it!” Tara advised her.

Kaila smiled suddenly. Dan was being good. So good. Twinges of guilt tore at her heart. She did act like a spoiled rich kid sometimes, thinking that the world was passing her by while she changed diapers. She prayed silently that God would forgive her; her children were so important to her! She loved them dearly, and they deserved a far more patient mother. Dan, too, was being great. Working so hard and still realizing that she needed a break. Lord, she even had Anna, for God's sake! So many moms with little kids had no help. She had so much.

She blinked furiously, realizing how close she had come to destroying her marriage. She had been so blind and selfish that she might actually have cheated on Dan.

She sipped her coffee and smiled at Tara. “I hope he's good and frustrated, because he's going to have one hell of a night!” She was going to be good to him. She was going to wear her gift and make up for being such a bitch lately.

Tonight…

 

Including airport time, it took less than an hour to get from Key West to Miami by plane. By noon, Kyle was back at Jimmy's office, reading and rereading the forensic reports on all the victims, hoping that something else would jump out at him.

Jimmy came in, taking a chair and staring at Kyle. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“Remember Harry Nore, derelict, bad teeth, found with your father's Saint Christopher medal and the butcher knife that killed Lainie Adair?”

Kyle frowned. “What about him?”

“They let him go.”

“What?” Kyle demanded incredulously.

Jimmy nodded gravely. “Believe it or not,” he said in disgust, “the shrinks let him go. The doctors were supposed to let us know if they ever let him out, so they sent us a letter that we just got—but he's been out for about six months now.”

“Six months?”

“And the murders started four months ago. All redheads, like Lainie, like you said.”

“Redheads, yeah. Like Lainie.” Kyle shook his head.

“So what do you think? Could he be doing the killings?”

“He's not the type. Can you imagine Nore romancing someone?” He shook his head. “But…do we know where he is now?” Kyle asked.

Jimmy shook his head. “He was supposed to be living in Stuart, and a social worker was supposed to have been looking in on him once every couple of weeks, but you know how things like that go. He disappeared after the social worker's first visit. I have guys looking for him now, but…he could be anywhere. Including Miami.”

Kyle tapped a pencil against Jimmy's desk, then shook his head.

“It can't be Nore.”

“Why not? He killed Lainie. He admitted it. Said she was the devil's spawn. Maybe he feels that way about redheads in general. Now that he's loose and out on his own, maybe he thinks God has told him to kill more redheads, more of the devil's spawn.”

“I don't think so.”

Jimmy groaned, aggravated. “Why can't anything ever be simple with you guys? Nore is a homicidal maniac! He butchered his wife, then Lainie, and it looks as if he's at it again.”

Kyle shook his head, smiling slightly. “Nore never went to trial for Lainie's murder.”

“Christ! He confessed to it!”

“Right. But he's a certifiable madman, and madmen confess to crimes.”

“You had too many years of college, boy. Madmen don't confess to crimes, they
commit
them!”

“Jimmy, this killer is suave and sleek. He seduces his victims. Hell, remember what Nore looked like? His eyes were wild, his smile was a leer. He's about as seductive as a rabid dog. I don't think he's our man.”

Jimmy was quiet. He sighed. “Damn it, I hate it when you almost make sense.”

Kyle shrugged. “Nore shouldn't have been let out.”

“No way in hell,” Jimmy agreed.

“It would still be a good idea to find him, find out if he's been in Miami, question him.”

“I've got an APB out on him now.”

“Good. I think we're going to have an interesting afternoon.”

“Oh, yeah? What's your suggestion.”

“Let's hit the tattoo parlors ourselves.”

“We've got beat cops on it already, you know.”

“Yeah, but let's get involved ourselves. Unless you've got some other clue we could be following?”

“I always wanted to get inside a sleazy tattoo parlor,” Jimmy said. “Let's go.”

They spent the afternoon visiting tattoo parlors, showing pictures of the rose tattoos from the bodies of the two dead women to the various “body artists” at the different establishments. They found similar tattoos, but nothing exactly the same as either one. They also questioned everyone about Holly Tyler.

Toward the end of the day, near seven, they got lucky at a place in Florida City called Tammy's Tailored Tattoos and Tea Parlor. Tammy herself greeted them. She was a small woman wearing skimpy leather shorts and a skimpier vest that barely covered her ample bosom. Her hair was dyed a neon orange, teased and piled on her head. She flirted like crazy, until she made a sudden withdrawal, instinctively wary, when she realized they were the law. Kyle cut through her defensive stuttering, assuring her that they were interested in finding out about rose tattoos and Holly Tyler, nothing else.

Tammy studied the picture of Holly Tyler's buttocks for only a moment before staring wide-eyed at Kyle. “My God! She's dead? That pretty little thing is dead?”

“She was here?” Jimmy said quickly.

Tammy nodded, wide-eyed. “That's my work.”

“When did you do it?” Jimmy demanded.

“Last Friday, late afternoon, early evening. She was in a big hurry, getting the tattoo to please some man.”

Jimmy flashed Kyle a quick look.

“Who was the man?” Kyle asked.

“I don't know. He never came in here. She walked in by herself, real uncertain-like. She'd never had a tattoo before. She seemed to think we're the devil's den or something like that. The guy didn't come with her. I didn't make it as elaborate as I would have liked, 'cause she was in a hurry. She wanted the tattoo 'cause of this guy she had a real thing for. She was all excited and talkative, once she got comfortable. Said that good men were so hard to find these days, and this guy was a real prince. Nice guy, opened doors for her, paid for dates…and he was taking her for a romantic weekend on the water. They were just gonna lie around all weekend, drink wine, swim a little, fish a little, and make love like rabbits.”

“Where were they going, do you know?”

Tammy shook her head. “South. I'm not sure where. Just somewhere south. Maybe Key Largo, maybe Marathon…hell, maybe they were going all the way down to Key West. All she talked about is how great a guy he was, how excited she was…and how he wanted her to have a rose tattoo where only he could see it.”

“Did she say whether he was dark, light, blond, bald, Anglo, Latin, anything?”

Tammy shook her head.

“She didn't describe the guy at all?” Jimmy asked.

“I'm really sorry. I—” She stopped suddenly, remembering something.

“What?” Kyle asked.

“She was really proud of the guy. Said how good-looking he was, yet kind of shy. Refused to have his picture taken. She was telling me that she had sneaked a couple of Polaroids when he wasn't looking, but when she started digging around in her purse to find the pictures, she realized she must have forgotten them or lost them or something. She didn't have them, so she couldn't show me.”

“Damn,” Jimmy breathed.

The understatement of the year, Kyle thought. “Call in, have Holly Tyler's house searched for photos and follow up every lead,” he said to Jimmy.

Jimmy nodded. “We'll get guys right on it.”

Tammy looked at them sorrowfully, plainly realizing what a difference it would have made if she'd only been able to see the pictures. “God, I'm sorry. You know that I'd help you if I could.”

“Well, you've got us looking for photos now, so you might turn out to have been more of a help than you know.”

“If I think of anything else…”

“Sure,” Kyle said. He took out a business card and wrote down the number to Jordan's house in Key West, along with his cell phone. “If you think of anything at all, no matter how minor you may think it is, please,
please,
call one of us,” he said, watching as Jimmy also handed her a card.

They left the tattoo parlor, driving north, back to Miami. They went back to Jimmy's office, adding the new information to the time board they were constructing regarding Holly Tyler's last movements.

“You're really hung up on this tattoo thing,” Jimmy told Kyle, driving him to the airport to catch a commuter flight back to Key West.

Kyle glanced at his watch, annoyed to see how late it had gotten. After ten. It would be nearly midnight when he got back to Jordan's house. He didn't like Madison being there alone.

He glanced at Jimmy, about to tell him that he was worried because Madison had a similar tattoo.

He refrained. Jimmy might wonder how he knew about the tattoo, and he felt certain that Madison wouldn't want anyone else knowing why he was so familiar with it.

It suddenly seemed important to him that no one know about Madison's tattoo.

No one.

Naturally Darryl Hart would know about his ex-wife's tattoo, but no one else had to know, and Kyle was determined to keep quiet about it.

He hesitated for a minute, then said, “Lainie had a similar tattoo.”

“Lainie!” Jimmy eyed him, frowning. “How do you know?”

“She was married to my father.”

“Oh,” Jimmy said. He still sounded suspicious. He glanced sideways at Kyle.

“No, I did not have an adolescent affair with my stepmother,” Kyle assured him dryly.

“I wasn't suggesting any such a thing, I was just…”

“Wondering?” Kyle said.

Jimmy shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“I wouldn't have gone near Lainie with a ten-foot pole,” Kyle murmured.

He realized that Jimmy was staring at him suspiciously again.

He glanced at Jimmy, smiling. “She was hell on wheels. Tortured my father and Jordan. And plenty of other men, I'm certain.”

“How so?”

Kyle thought about it a minute. “She liked to hold things against people. If my father did something she didn't like, she always let him know that Jordan would be happy to be with her again. She did it subtly. And if she knew something that she could hold against you…she used it.”