Malicious. Jacob Stone
Dates also. Lionel, I’ll be checking up on you, and if you deliver you get the other hundred. If you don’t put in the effort, we’ll have words later. We understand each other, right?”
Bogle moved the bill closer so that his former CI could take it out of his grasp.
“We understand each other,” Simmons agreed. “But that don’t mean the Tahoe ended up at any chop shop. As I said, it could be in Mexico, or even all the way down to Chile by now. She-it, these signals ain’t that strong. No more than eight miles. You find a remote enough spot, you park the car and cover it with a tarp, and police ain’t going to find it. But I’ll earn this bill, and the other, even if I turn up nothin’.” He sat back, and tried to act nonchalant as he asked, “Why’s this one Tahoe so important?”
“The guy who was driving it disappeared the same day.”
“This guy’s who you’re really trying to find?”
“That’s right.”
“A bad dude?”
“Not that I can tell.”
Simmons considered that. “I’ll see what I can dig up,” he promised.
Chapter 12
Nice building, Morris thought as he parked in front of the West Hollywood condo complex where Heather Brandley had lived. “Nice neighborhood, too,” he told Parker.
The reason Morris had Parker in the car with him was because Natalie had insisted when they met at her office that he take the bull terrier. “You’re the one this killer is obsessed with, not me,” she had said. “Besides, I’ve now got this shiny new bracelet to protect me.”
Morris had tried arguing with her about which of them needed Parker’s protection more, but Natalie was adamant. She’d also put on a brave face over the fact that he was being sucked into yet another serial killer investigation. “Sometimes the stars just align a certain way,” she said, her large, brown eyes melting into Morris’s. “This maniac’s not leaving you any choice. You’re only doing what you have to do.”
Morris felt a lump in his throat as he pictured the way Natalie had looked at him. No matter what else was going on in his life, he was a lucky man, no doubt about it.
He got out of the car, and made sure to hold tightly onto Parker’s leash as the dog scooted out past him. Instead of heading to the condo complex, Morris walked across the street to the small park that was outlined with bushes, flowering coral trees, and another variety of flowering tree that Morris didn’t recognize, this one having paper-thin yellow flowers. Morris used his phone to take a photo of one of the trees. He texted this to Natalie and asked if she knew what type it was. After that, he walked Parker around the park, letting the dog sniff at each bush.
Once the loop was completed, Morris sat on the lone bench in the park. Parker contentedly plopped down by his feet. Five minutes later Walsh emerged from where she’d been hiding across the street and headed toward him. Minutes before Morris had arrived at the condo complex, he called Walsh and they came up with this plan in case the killer was watching for Morris’s arrival. It made sense that the killer might be doing so if he wanted to make sure Morris was involved with the investigation, but Morris hadn’t spotted anyone suspicious while he did his loop of the park, and if anyone had been hiding in the bushes the bull terrier would’ve alerted him.
Walsh approached the bench and first greeted Parker, who made his excited pig grunts as he wagged his tail, and then sat next to Morris. “I didn’t see anyone waiting here watching for you,” she said.
“It was worth the shot,” Morris said.
From Walsh’s expression, she didn’t seem to agree, but she didn’t belabor the point. “According to the doorman, Brandley came back from a run around two-thirty yesterday, then an hour later she left by herself with her face made up, hair done, wearing a sexy green dress and black stiletto pumps. Quoting him, she was dressed to kill.”
“He had that backwards.” Morris peered toward the building’s entrance. “How come I don’t see him?”
“He doesn’t stand by the door. He sits inside by a security desk.”
“Hmm. She certainly made an impression on him. Remembering exactly what she wore. Must be a pretty observant guy. Although I bet if I went over there now and talked to him, he wouldn’t be able to tell me what you’re wearing.”
“Maybe not, but Brandley was the big celebrity in the building. And she was beautiful. It’s not hard to believe he’d pay special attention to her.”
“That could be it,” Morris agreed, “but I don’t like it when a witness uses a phrase like ‘dressed to kill’ as a way to describe a murder victim. Makes me wonder if he’s playing some sort of mind game.”
Walsh was about to argue with him, maybe even tell him he was being paranoid, but he knew Walsh almost as well as he knew anyone, with the exception of Natalie, and he could see the spark in her eyes the moment she agreed he had a valid point.
“Let’s go talk to him,” she said.
Chapter 13
They found the vestibule door locked. Morris stuck his nose against the glass and saw that there was no one sitting behind the security desk.
He asked Walsh, “How long ago did you leave the building?”
“No more than a minute after you called.”
Morris checked his watch. “About fifteen minutes then. Was the doorman still in the lobby?”
She nodded, her face tense. With little conviction, she said, “He could be helping someone with a package. Or taking a break.”
There wasn’t much chance a doorman would be helping a tenant with a package. Morris had been watching the building’s front entrance from the moment he sat on the park bench, and nobody had entered or left the building since then.
He asked, “What’s Heather Brandley’s apartment number?”
“Forty-eight.”
Morris buzzed forty-eight on the intercom. Malevich answered with a brusque, “Who’s this?”
“Greg, this is Morris. Annie’s with me. Come down to the lobby right away, and if you see the doorman, hold him. And be careful.”
“Why, what’s up?”
“I’m not sure yet. Just get down here.”
Walsh was biting her bottom lip. This was something she did only when she was anxious, and Morris couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her do it. Maybe when he was still on the force and they were working the Vincent Robusto case together.
“He couldn’t have been the killer,” she said almost as if she were in a daze.
“Describe him.”
“Early thirties. Average height, weight. Short red hair. Well-groomed beard and mustache. Square-shaped face. Glasses. Blue eyes.” Her expression weakened. “He was wearing white gloves, like you see in those old movies. I noticed them when he handed me the keys to Brandley’s unit, and thought it was odd, but assumed it was a policy for the doormen working here. Jesus, it couldn’t have been him, could it?”
Morris shrugged helplessly. Finston thought the killer would be watching for Morris, and what better way than to pose as the doorman? And what better way than to shove their noses in it? For the moment, though, all they could do was wait.
When Malevich showed up, a puzzled look creased his face as he opened the door for them. He waved a thumb in the direction of the empty security desk.
“What happened to him?” he asked.
“The million-dollar question,” Morris said as he breezed past the homicide detective with Parker leading the way.
It didn’t take them long to find