Warning Signs (Alexis Parker Book 19) Page 6

  “I caught a case today. Two, actually.”

  “While you were sleeping?”

  “No. One before and one after.”

  He studied the sofa cushions for a moment. “I’d ask how you are, but you’ll say fine even though you’re not. So we’ll skip that part. Marty said you almost called me last night. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing much. I finished the threat assessments. I just need you to double-check my work and make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

  “That was quick. You went through every case you’ve ever worked in less than a month. That’s—”

  “Good work,” I volunteered.

  “Insane.”

  “No reason to wait.” I led Mark into the kitchen.

  He put the six-pack of beer down on the counter and flipped through the file I left on the table. “What does Cross have you doing now?”

  “Possible cheating fiancée. When I talked to the groom-to-be, he didn’t sound suspicious, just cautious. I’m not really sure why he hired us or why Cross asked me to look into it.”

  “You specifically?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with Marty?” Mark asked.

  “See,” I said for Martin’s benefit as he stepped out of the pantry, “I’m not the only one who assumes these things.”

  Mark nodded hello to Martin and snagged one of the longnecks from the carrier. He popped the top using the edge of the counter and took a seat at the table, making himself at home. “So, Marty, who are Andre North and Eve Wyndham?” Mark read their names off the page.

  “Like I told Alex,” Martin put the rest of the beers in the fridge and went back to slicing the mushrooms, “I don’t know either of them, but it’s possible Eve did some work for MT when she worked at Elite.”

  “That’s it?” Mark asked.

  Martin let out a frustrated growl. “That’s it.”

  Mark and I exchanged a look. “Whatever you say.” Mark flipped through the intel and pulled out his phone, performing an abbreviated version of the social media checks I’d spent far too many hours conducting. “Nothing indicates she’s stepping out on her intended.”

  “Even he didn’t seem convinced she was. He just wants to make sure. He’s afraid if they divorce she’ll take him for everything he’s worth.”

  “Smart man.” Mark leaned back, taking a long pull from his beer.

  I stared at the bottle. “Should you be drinking?”

  He waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “Should you be walking around without your crutches?”

  “Medical cleared me today. I’m fine. I just need to build back my strength.”

  “Really?” Martin asked. “That’s wonderful. When does PT start?”

  “I’m trying something else instead.” I gave him a look, and Martin dropped the subject.

  Eight

  “This is a mess.” I grabbed my mug and took a sip. O’Connell had crime scene photos from the four poisonings pinned to a corkboard. “When did this first happen?”

  “Eight months ago.” O’Connell rocked back in his chair. “Homicide ruled the first case an accidental overdose. The autopsy was inconclusive. They didn’t know to check for anything else.”

  “A puncture wouldn’t be uncommon.”

  “Not with those track marks.” O’Connell pushed the crime scene report toward me. “All four were poisoned.”

  “Did the ME decide what poison was used to kill Landau?”

  “Yeah.” O’Connell highlighted the scientific name. “Don’t ask me for the pronunciation, but that’s the fancy way of saying something derived from oleander.”

  “Was it the same poison used on the other three victims?”

  O’Connell shook his head and pointed to the second and third victims. “Hemlock and deadly nightshade. We can’t be certain what was used on the first. We didn’t run enough tests at the time.”

  “What made you run them on these? Poison isn’t something commonly tested for, and it’s even harder to recognize.”

  “At the second crime scene, we found vomit and indications the victim suffered a seizure prior to death. We tested for everything.”

  “That’s how you knew to check the third and fourth.” I blew out a breath. “Different poisons could mean different killers, but all these scenes look the same to me. They feel the same. Nice private suite, untraceable group sex, and one victim. Anything ritualistic?”

  “Not that I noticed,” O’Connell said. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Have you seen anything like this before?”

  “No, but you know I didn’t work murders or serial killings. At least not intentionally.” I reexamined the toxicology reports from the four different crime scenes. “I’m having conflicting opinions. Serial killers tend to be male.”

  “But poison is usually a woman’s preferred method of killing.” O’Connell spread the photos from the hotel’s security cameras out on the desk. “Our unknown fifth is female.”

  I examined the photos of the two couples who entered the hotel. They wore long trench coats with the collars pulled up. The two women had scarves wrapped around their heads, as a throwback to the 1960s spy flicks, and large sunglasses. One of the men wore a motorcycle helmet. The other had a cowboy hat with wraparound sunglasses.

  “Facial rec can’t get a hit. I spoke to the hotel staff, but these people weren’t registered guests. They didn’t even use valet parking. They arrived by cab and left the same way. They entered, went straight to the elevator, and straight to the room. No looking around. No distractions. They knocked and entered.”

  “Did you get the cab numbers?” I asked. “The drivers might be able to ID them.”

  “Nothing yet, but I’m guessing that’s a bust.”

  Based on his expression, there was something he wasn’t saying. “What is it, Nick?”

  “You saw the scene. It’s a fuckfest. With the previous three murders, we never IDed any of the other parties. It was just like this. Always couples showing up to play. Maybe they’re into swapping or group activities. I don’t know, and I don’t care. But none of the vics were part of a couple. They checked into the hotel alone, and as far as we can tell, they were all single.”

  “But there were six people in Landau’s room, five not including the vic. So even though the vic was single, he might have invited a date, who somehow snuck into the room without us noticing.” I stared at the stills from the security cam footage. “Was Victor Landau seeing anyone?”

  “Not that we know of. IT found several dating profiles. It looks like he’s been seeking his soulmate for the last four years but didn’t have any luck. His dating profiles are still active.”

  “Any idea how he got involved in this scene?” I gestured at the photo. “Do you think the women who showed up were previous lovers? Or previous dates?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve tried contacting a few of the more recent hits he’s gotten on the dating sites, but the women claim to know nothing about this. They even alibied out.”

  “Who are these people, and how did they know to show up at his hotel room?”

  “I dunno. That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out ever since major crimes took over the investigation. I’d say this reads like one of those underground sex clubs. The kind with anonymous high-profile members who get random texts with locations and times for the next event.”

  “Have you been reading Jen’s trashy romance novels again?” I teased.

  O’Connell’s expression hardened. “How does this read to you?”

  “The same.” I sighed. “Do you have an actual lead?”

  “Just some whispers from vice. Nothing’s panned out yet. If we can identify at least one other person, we might have something.”

  “Have you tried flashing the surveillance photos around inside biker bars or those line-dancing places?”

  “Hardy har. Any other suggestions?”

 
But I didn’t have anything. “You still don’t know when or how the fifth person entered the room?” The autopsy helped narrow time of death to a four-hour window. Eleven to three a.m. It was possible the killer administered the poison and left the hotel before Landau expired, which could implicate either couple as the guilty party or accomplices to murder, but that didn’t explain how the fifth DNA sample got inside the room. “Have you finished comparing the sample to the hotel staff?”

  “The third woman in Landau’s room doesn’t work at the hotel. Forensics determined no one from the hotel laid a hand or anything else on Landau’s body or on any of the wine glasses or prophylactics found at the scene.”

  “Where did you find the fifth DNA sample?” I asked.

  “On one of the wine glasses and on the outside of one of the discarded condoms.”

  “Landau’s condom?”

  “No.”

  “So whoever the fifth person is, she didn’t have sex with Landau. Is that the consensus?”

  “It appears that way.”

  I flipped back to the printed stills from the security footage. “I don’t remember an adjoining room to that suite.”

  “That’s because it doesn’t have one.”

  “Are these the only security photos you have?”

  “I watched the footage. This was the extent of the suspicious activity in and out after Landau’s arrival.”

  “What about before?”

  O’Connell tapped his pen on the desk a few times. “Hey, Thompson,” he called to his partner, “did the techs run the footage prior to Landau’s check-in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” Thompson grabbed a stack of papers off the printer and headed toward us. He glared at me. “Parker, why do you always sit in my chair?”

  “It helps me think.”

  “Move.” He pointed to the folding chair beside O’Connell’s desk. “The techs didn’t find anything else. Just usual hotel operation.”

  “Meaning?” I asked before O’Connell could.

  Thompson glanced in my direction. “Meaning maid service cleaned the room, changed the linens, restocked the mini bar and locked the room until Landau arrived.”

  “And no one else came in or out?” O’Connell asked.

  “Only the room service Landau ordered.” Thompson scooted my cup to O’Connell’s desk and centered his keyboard. “I sent CSU back to check the balcony. It’s the only place someone could hide without anyone noticing.”

  “Good call.” O’Connell turned to me. “They’ll get back to us when they finish. In the meantime, any insights you care to share?”

  “Murder scenes aren’t my thing.”

  “Besides that,” O’Connell said.

  “What is your thing?” Thompson asked.

  “Not this.” I reached for Landau’s financial statement. He had money. Not as much as most of Cross Security’s clientele, but enough to live comfortably. “Any 9-1-1 calls from his home, cell, or office in the last few months?”

  “Nothing,” O’Connell said.

  “What about threats? He’s an architect for a prestigious firm. Have they received any threats?”

  “We’re working on it.” O’Connell gave me a look. “You were hired to consult, not micromanage or pretend to be Lt. Moretti.”

  Eyeing the lieutenant’s office, I imagined how I’d look behind his desk. “What does he have to say about this?”

  O’Connell glowered at me. “Seriously, Parker, do you have anything to add? Any reason why someone would want to kill Landau or who the killer might be? For some reason, Landau had Cross’s card in his wallet. That has to mean something. I wouldn’t put it past your boss to get his rocks off at some secret swingers’ event. He looks like the type who’d enjoy an orgy.”

  “At least a quadruple,” Thompson said.

  “Again, I wouldn’t know, but I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, do some actual police work. I can’t consult if you don’t have anything for me to consult on.”

  “Ballbuster,” Thompson muttered.

  I smiled. “Be nice and I’ll bring you donuts the next time I stop by.”

  “Jelly,” Thompson said.

  “And sprinkles for Nick.” I collected a copy of the intel and headed for the door. “Maybe I’ll run this by the federal building and see if I can get someone from behavioral sciences to weigh in. Any objections?”

  “None. Consult away,” O’Connell called after me. “And don’t forget to bring coffee with those donuts.”

  “No problem.” Too bad I had no idea how I could help. The police had this situation handled. They had the evidence, the tools, and two topnotch detectives working on the case. They didn’t need me. Frankly, I still wasn’t convinced O’Connell hadn’t used his phone-a-friend just because Martin asked. But that was another fight for another day.

  Landau had a Cross Security business card on his person when he died, so my first stop was the architecture firm where Landau worked. After speaking to the woman at reception, who mistakenly believed I was a ditzy personal assistant who failed to write down my boss’s meeting or even the architect’s name, I left the firm. It was only nine a.m., but I’d already determined Lucien hadn’t tried to hire Landau or his associates to design a new office building for him.

  Perhaps I should take my boss at face value. He said he didn’t know Landau or why the man contacted us. Maybe that was true. But I made a mental note to chat up every receptionist I found before cornering Justin, Lucien’s righthand man, and interrogating him.

  However, I had other fish to fry, or a full plate, or some other food-related metaphor that would probably make me queasy if I spent too long thinking about it. So I headed to the federal building, parked in a visitor space, left my gun and other hardware in the car, went through the metal detectors, and filled out the paperwork. With a visitor’s pass clipped to my jacket, I followed the junior agent to the elevator and up to the OIO level.

  Before heading to Mark’s office, I detoured to Agent Eddie Lucca’s desk. His back was to me, so he didn’t notice when I snuck up behind him. The junior agent cleared her throat, causing Eddie to look up from the pile of paperwork. At least he was alive.

  “Sir, you have a visitor,” the agent said.

  “That’s not a visitor. That’s Parker,” Lucca said. “She doesn’t count.”

  “Hey.” I tried to sound offended.

  He nodded to the agent. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

  The agent disappeared down the hall.

  “Back so soon?” Lucca asked. “Agent Davis said he saw you lurking in the corridors two weeks ago.”

  “I wasn’t lurking. I was doing research.” I patted the stack of files I brought with me that Mark had forgotten to grab on his way out the door last night. “Jablonsky and I have been working on some threat assessments.”

  “So I heard.” Lucca tried to hide his amusement. “Admit it. You just wanted to see me.”

  “Guilty,” I teased, even if it might have been true. “Since you dropped in on me at work, I thought I’d return the favor.”

  “I’m surprised anyone let you in here. Aren’t you banned?”

  “You wish.”

  “If you keep showing up like this, Agent Nayyar’s going to think you’re vying to get your old spot back. And I don’t think he wants to give up his desk.”

  “It was mine first.” I glanced at the empty chair where I used to spend most of my days and nights. “But he has nothing to worry about.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve been spending more time in the federal building these last few weeks than most active agents.”

  “What’s your excuse?”

  “I’m just trying to catch up on the current caseload.” He lowered his voice. “What are you doing here, Parker? I don’t believe this is just about threat assessments? Is there some kind of top secret op you’re working with Jablonsky? Or are you planning to make another comeback?”

>   “There’s not a chance in hell that could ever happen, nor would I want it to.” I swallowed. “I just need to find some peace of mind.”

  “You think going over every single one of our cases will help?” He stared at me. “Yes, Alex, I know what you’ve been doing. Jablonsky had me run the last set of names you brought him.”

  I froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

  Lucca grinned. “I don’t blame you. I’ve been doing the same thing. After what happened, none of us can be too careful. Especially since I have Kelly and Grace to think about.” He studied my expression for a moment. “How’s the leg? You seem steadier today than you did the last time I saw you.”

  “It’s getting there.”

  “Good. Kelly wants to know when you’re available for dinner. My wife is under the impression you’re a normal human being who knows how to interact with other normal human beings.”

  “You haven’t dissuaded her of this notion yet?”

  “Believe me, I’ve tried.” Lucca leaned back in his chair, wincing slightly from the shift in position. “It’s no big deal. She just wants to thank you. Actually, we want to thank you. You didn’t have to come back for me. You could have called it in. He wanted you dead. Showing up was suicide. It was stupid.”

  “It’s my fault you were there. If I hadn’t called to ask for your help, none of this would have happened.” I gestured at his mid-section, a lump forming in my throat. “You saved the day, Lucca. I should be thanking you.”

  “In that case, when are you inviting us to dinner?”

  I swallowed, feeling the blood drain from my face.

  “Jeez. I forgot how difficult you can be. It was a joke. You need to lighten up.”

  “I’ve said it before, Eddie. You need to stay away from me, especially now.”

  “This is my desk.”

  “Right. I’m gonna go.”

  “What do you mean by especially now?”

  “Nothing. The police want me to consult on something. It could blow up. I don’t want you to get hit by shrapnel.”

  “I don’t want that either.”

  “Good, we’re in agreement. Take it easy, and feel better.”