Jamie Hill Triple Threat (69 page)

Reeder washed back a couple of aspirin with a swig of coffee and grimaced. He shook a handful of antacids into his palm and popped them one at a time. "I mean it, Curtis," he mumbled as he chewed. "Your ass is grass if we don't see some results on this thing soon. Don't make me reconsider your detective status."

"No sir. I mean, yes sir." She retreated from the office and noticed everyone in the bullpen watching her. Their captain's shouting rarely went unnoticed. Mel felt her face heat and knew it'd flushed a deep shade of red. She hoped to slip into the ladies room and take a minute to compose herself before Nate arrived. She took a few steps, spun around and nearly ran him over.

"Hey." He held a four-cup drink carrier with a fifth steaming cup sticking up in the middle.

She tried to deflect his sympathetic gaze. "If one of those is for Reeder, this might not be the best time."

"I heard. Sorry he did that, Mel. If he's pissed at me he should take it out on me. As you can imagine, that rarely happens."

She shook her head. "It's my case, but he's the one catching the shit at the moment." She felt tears threaten which totally pissed her off. She sniffed and looked at the coffee again. "Last time I counted we had four on our team."

Nate started to reply when someone entered the room.

"Greetings, homicide peeps." Brady Marshall knocked knuckles with Stone and a few others as he passed them. He got almost to Mel when he paused and grinned. "As I live and breathe, is that Melanie Curtis with blonde hair?"

"Light brown," she corrected, and let him envelop her in a bear hug. "And shut up about it. It's not that different."

Brady chuckled as he hugged her. "It's totally different, and I like it. You still got it, Black Widow."

Her tears were free-flowing now, and she hated to leave his comforting grasp. She drew back and immediately turned her face away. "And you're still full of shit you big dummy. You better have baby pictures on you. I need to use the john. I'll be right back. Willis, introduce yourself." She couldn't get away fast enough.

* * * *

Nate watched Mel run off and his gut clenched. It hurt like hell that he couldn't go after her. He'd seen the tight grip she'd had on the tall, good-looking man just moments before.
I want to be the one holding her, comforting her.
Somehow, he'd find a way to make it up to her.

He turned his attention to the newcomer who was obviously Brady Marshall. About his height with a similar frame size, Nate couldn't help but wonder if Marshall and Mel ever had a relationship. A niggling thought in his mind reminded him of the work at hand and Nate forced himself to focus. "
Marshall
? I'm Nate Willis with the FBI. We spoke on the phone earlier."

Marshall
started to extend a hand to shake then obviously realized Nate's hands were full. He smiled. "I'm Brady Marshall. Good to meet you."

Nate nodded toward the war room. "Let's go in here." He raised his voice and called, "Stone, bring the latest photos when you get them please."

"Right behind you," Stone replied.

Nate entered the small room and flipped the light switch with his elbow. He set the drink carrier on the table and removed the coffees one at a time. "Hope a latte is okay. Mel insisted."

Marshall
chuckled. "A latte is fine, thanks. Speaking of Mel, what's up with her? She looked upset."

Stone joined them, tacking one photo of Sissy Warsaw on the bulletin board and setting others on the table. He reached for one of the cups and punched the drink spout. "Captain Tactful just reamed her ass in front of the whole department. Threatened her rank if he didn't see some results on this case very soon."

Marshall
picked up a cup and shook his head. "Reeder's a dick. He was a dick back in the days when Jack still worked here, and apparently nothing's changed."

Nate sipped his drink. "Who's Jack?"

"Former cop buddy of mine. Worked in homicide for ages—how many years, Stone?"

"Who can remember? A long time."

Marshall
smiled. "He wised up, found himself a good woman and a less taxing line of work. They adopted a of couple kids and had a couple more of their own."

"Oh, Jack?" Mel perked up as she came in to the room. Her eyes were red-rimmed but the expression on her face warned all the men present that they better not mention it. "How is he doing? How's the new baby?"

Marshall
's grin widened. "Jack's on the top of the world. Scotty's doing great. Pudgy little chow hound. Two months younger than the girls and almost as big as them."

Mel held out her hand and snapped her fingers. "Don't try to tell me you don't have pictures because I know you do."

He pulled his cell phone from his breast pocket and started scrolling through it. "Are you kidding? My phone has a mega-sized memory card. We could stand here all day looking at pictures." He settled on one and handed Mel the phone.

"Aw, look at them!" She held the phone so Nate could see the two little dark-haired babies. Both had wild, unruly hair, and he had to admit, pretty damned cute expressions on their faces. "Brady and his wife had twin daughters, what, four months ago?"

"Four and a half," he corrected.

Mel smiled at Nate, and he had to grin. Only a new parent would care about that extra half month.
Saps, the whole lot of them
. He bit his tongue and continued to smile pleasantly.

Marshall
advanced the frame to another photo. "This is Carina, and that's Daniela. We call them Cari and Dani."

Oh my God
. Nate bit his tongue again.

"Too cute!" Mel passed the phone to Stone so he could get in on the gushing.

"Thanks." Brady beamed. "But I know you didn't call me here to look at my daughters."

Mel cocked a brow at him. "Who did call you here? When I asked the captain if I could bring you in he said you were on the way."

"Willis and I spoke this morning. Didn't he tell you?"

She looked at Nate. "No, he didn't. No problem, I planned to call you today anyway. We were wondering if you could give us any insight into these women. You know a lot of them. You know the Oldtown neighborhood."

They sat and passed the latest photos around. "This one was a waitress at Daily Joe," Mel offered. "Everything else was the same as the others. Cheerleader uniform from the seventies era, cardinal mascot on the vest, red pom poms in the hands, bodies all posed just the same."

"Throat slashed from ear to ear,"
Marshall
added.

Nate studied the latest victim.
I'm missing something
. He tapped that particular photo on the table but didn't pass it on.

"Any significance to the cardinal?"
Marshall
asked.

"I got that." Nate pulled out his phone and found the information his analyst had sent. "Two
Wichita
schools in the seventies had cardinals as their mascots.
St. John's
and Bayside Academy. Bayside was a Lutheran school with no sports teams, so they wouldn't have had cheerleaders."

"Which leaves us
St. John's
," Stone said. "I'm not familiar with it."

"Because it doesn't exist anymore." Nate read from his phone. "The school closed in 1984 and the building was dozed to make way for a strip mall with lots of parking and a fancy seafood restaurant."

"Gotta love seafood."
Marshall
stood and paced in front of the bulletin board, studying the photos and evidence. "So run the timeframe for me again."

Mel read from her notes. "Rhonda Jensen, forty-four, found two weeks ago on a Sunday morning."

Marshall
turned to the map. "Where at?"

Stone rose and pointed to the map tacks. "Red indicates location of the body. Blue is last known whereabouts."

Marshall
nodded.

Mel continued, "Victim number two, Donna Leonard, forty-nine. Found one week ago on a Saturday morning. Number three was Linda Mains age fifty-two, body discovered last Friday morning."

Nate piped up. "Sissy
Warsaw
was forty-eight and her body was discovered today, Monday." He glanced at Mel and they both looked at Marshall then Stone.

All four murmured the same words at the same time. "He's escalating."

"Damn it!" Nate slammed the photo in his hand down and pounded the table.

Samantha Becker poked her head in the door. "Detective Marshall, there's a call for you out here on line three. It's your captain."

"Thanks." Brady smiled at Mel as he passed her, pausing just long enough to tug on her ponytail. "Really do like the locks, kiddo. Brightens up your face."

"I can use that." She smiled and exhaled a long sigh.

Something in Nate's mind clicked. His gaze darted to the bulletin board from one photo to the next. At the end of the line, he snapped his fingers. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

"What?" Mel and Stone both stared at him.

He spotted
Marshall
returning and waited for him. "Everything okay?" He really hoped the other detective didn't have to leave.

"Fine."
Marshall
waved a hand. "Captain just had a question for me and didn't have his cell so he could call mine." He rolled his eyes at Mel. "Forrest ranks right up there with Reeder sometimes."

"Or down there, as the case may be," she muttered.

"Okay, okay, listen to this." Nate couldn't wait any longer. "I've been trying to put my finger on something this whole time, and it suddenly just clicked. Something all these women have in common. Look at their hair."

All eyes turned to the bulletin board. Mel spoke first. "One red-head, two brunettes and a badly bleached blonde."

"Therein lies the connection. All four of them have artificially colored hair. Same with the two gals we talked to Friday. The Juicy Fruit chick and what was her name, Sheila? Both had bleached or colored hair."

Mel looked at
Marshall
. "Skinny Sheila sends her regards, by the way. Says if you get tired of all the family togetherness to look her up. She'll give you a special rate."

Marshall
laughed. "Shelia's a good girl. Usually knows a bit more than she lets on, too."

Frustration churned in Nate's gut. "Stay with me here, people! These are street folks. Homeless or living in shelters, with no idea where the next meal is coming from. Explain to me how they can afford to have their hair done?"

Stone shrugged. "Who says they have it done? Maybe they do each other. A box of color in the store costs, what, five bucks?"

"More like ten," Mel said, "but it would have scared me if you knew that."

Nate pressed on. "The Juicy Fruit gal said she left Linda the other day when she went to have her hair done."

"That's right." Mel nodded. "I don't know. It might be a connection."

"It
is
a connection," Nate insisted. "Mel, we need to talk to Shelia and Juicy Fruit again. Find out where they have their hair done."

Mel smiled. "Her name is Juicy, not Juicy Fruit."

Nate scowled. "That's just wrong."

She laughed. "We won't find them until one at the earliest. But yeah, we can go ask."

Marshall
studied the map. "There are a few low rent salons in the neighborhood. Some of those places might not charge a working girl too much."

Nate raised his brows. "Or, one of them might accept a different type of payment from a working girl."

"There is that,"
Marshall
agreed. "Why don't I get a jump on this thing? Track down some of the salons and check out the personnel."

"I'll get Becker to help you," Stone said.

Marshall
groaned. "Not Perky Barbie. Why don't you help me, Henry?"

Stone smiled. "Because I need to go strike the fear of God into a couple of CSI investigators. Find out where the devil our report is."

Nate grinned. "Go get 'em, Tiger. Send Barbie in on your way out. She's the perfect helper for
Marshall
here."

"Thanks." Brady rolled his eyes, but Nate could tell he wasn't really unhappy. He seemed the type of person who could get along with anyone. That's why Nate wanted him working with Becker.
It leaves Mel all to me.

He watched her leaning over the table examining a photo, and had to fight an urge to move in from behind and drape his body over hers. He'd start kissing the nape of her neck and work his way down.

Later.
Right now, they were close to making a breakthrough. So close he could almost taste it.

* * * *

Nate drove when they went back to Oldtown that afternoon. He parked in the same spot they had before, and he led the way as they walked to where they last spotted Sheila.