Killing Ways Page 7

  Jesus, even I’m not sure I believe that …

  ‘We’re on an important case,’ said Gary. ‘So, please … just go home.’

  Go home? She’s distraught, you fuckwit. Go home? That’s it? Get your wife out of here. Go with her. Get her help.

  Karen slumped into a chair. ‘I don’t know what to believe,’ she said. She started to cry.

  ‘I’m going to give you some privacy,’ said Ren.

  ‘Don’t go,’ said Karen. ‘I’m so sorry. I … I’m not feeling great right now.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Ren. ‘But, really, I don’t think it’s my place to be here.’ She gave Karen a hug. ‘Gary is not cheating on you.’ He’s too fucking straight! He sees me as evidence of why not to cheat!

  Not that I haven’t thought about fucking your husband, but still …

  Ren looked at Gary. He gave her a nod of permission to leave. He looked worn out. Ren closed the door behind her.

  What the effin’ crap?

  12

  Ren went back into the bullpen, sat quietly at her desk, shuffled papers.

  ‘That’s it?’ said Everett.

  ‘That’s it,’ said Ren.

  ‘You’re killing me …’

  ‘Let’s just leave it at “Well, that was surreal”.’

  ‘Did you trade blows?’ His eyes were sparkling.

  ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter.’ NOT a lover, in fact. ‘What did I miss?’

  ‘The media has gotten hold of the Donna Darisse story – they’re not revealing she’s a prostitute, but they are saying she was last seen on Colfax. They have already interviewed some fantastic creatures there. Some will be viral by close of business.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Ren.

  ‘Oh, yes. One woman was so high … it was just cruel to put her in front of a camera.’

  ‘I hate that shit.’

  ‘That would be like filming you in Gaffney’s.’

  ‘Jesus, the idea of watching my vulnerable self …’

  ‘Is vulnerable the new euphemism?’ said Everett. ‘Oh my God, I was so vulnerable last night. Where’s my pineapple juice?’ He grabbed the remote control. ‘It’s on again,’ he said. He turned up the television. ‘Check out this goddess.’

  ‘This is a very safe area!’ the woman was saying. ‘Always has been! Now I’m afraid of my life.’

  ‘Ahm afeardamalaff too,’ said Ren.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Everett, nodding toward the door.

  They laughed loud, then turned their attention back to the screen.

  ‘Donna Darisse was last seen at lunchtime yesterday on Colfax Avenue. If you know anything about Ms Darisse’s whereabouts, please contact Denver PD …’

  ‘Fuckerooni,’ said Ren.

  She went back into Stephanie Wingerter’s file. ‘Stephanie Wingerter disappeared at night. This was lunchtime. So, does he have a nine-to-five job he has to work around? Or does he cruise whenever he feels like it?’

  ‘You’re sticking to the one killer theory,’ said Everett.

  ‘I am. I’m not afeardamalaff to do that.’

  ‘Agent Bryce was always so brave,’ said Everett. ‘Even – no, no especially – on the dance floor.’

  They looked up. Gary was in the doorway, his face set.

  Not the time to bring up serial killing.

  ‘I have an appointment this afternoon,’ he said. ‘My calls will be redirected to you, Ren.’

  ‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘See you tomorrow.’ I hope your life isn’t imploding.

  Ren called Glenn Buddy.

  ‘Glenn, have you got many statements from today’s canvas on Colfax?’

  ‘I’ll have some tomorrow,’ said Glenn. ‘I don’t know what you guys are equipped with over there, but my guys have one pair of hands each to type with.’

  ‘Fair point,’ said Ren. ‘Have you got any names of johns who—’

  ‘Ren, what I got is five live homicide cases giving me a pain in my ass. Which victim will I swap for the missing hooker – the dead child or the other dead child?’

  ‘Glenn, I think this is a serial case …’

  ‘I have no doubt you do,’ said Glenn. ‘You’re like one of those people who sees dead people.’

  ‘Are you saying I’m imagining this?’

  ‘No,’ said Glenn. ‘I believe in ghosts. I just need to see a body first. I need a pin in a map before I can make a network with my red string to the next pin.’

  ‘You don’t do that.’

  ‘I do not. Stay safe.’

  That night, Ren lined up photos of the victims on her kitchen table:

  Stephanie Wingerter. Hope Coulson. Donna Darisse.

  Sorry, Donna. I know we haven’t found you yet. But I know we will.

  Underneath, she laid down printouts of the bullet points of the cases she had made at the office earlier.

  I need a beer.

  Her phone rang. Janine.

  ‘Hello, lovely lady,’ said Ren. She went to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Coors Light.

  ‘What happened today?’ said Janine. ‘I believe I missed some action.’

  ‘You don’t want to know, trust me,’ said Ren. ‘A Dettling domestic. They’ve happened before. Though not quite with such dramz.’ She opened the beer.

  ‘I heard from admin that she called you a bitch. What was that about?’

  Shiiiiit. It’s out there. ‘Ugh. She thought I was having an affair with Gary. Please don’t say that to anyone.’

  ‘I won’t, don’t be ridiculous, but … shit.’ She started laughing.

  ‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘But the worst part about it was that I have been really attracted to him lately even though he’s a total asshole to me.’

  ‘Oh, God – don’t be that girl.’

  ‘No, I’m not, that’s the thing. I like being treated well. Anyway, I’d never act on it.’

  ‘Neither would he,’ said Janine.

  ‘I know that,’ said Ren, laughing. ‘It’s embarrassing, though. I hope Karen didn’t get that vibe off me.’

  The doorbell rang. She checked the intercom screen.

  ‘Holy shit,’ said Ren. ‘That’s him at my door.’

  ‘Gary?’ said Janine. ‘Maybe Karen planted the idea in his head …’

  ‘Stop!’ said Ren. ‘You brat. Call you later.’

  ‘Behave.’

  ‘Jesus!’

  ‘Oh, and don’t call tonight,’ said Janine. ‘I have serious lady pain. I’m planning to be unconscious.’

  ‘Aw, you poor thing. Hot-water bottle. Lots of love.’

  Gary rang the bell again.

  Yikes. I don’t think he has ever been in any of my homes. Weirdness.

  Ren buzzed him in.

  She poured the beer down the sink, and put the empty bottle in the cabinet underneath. She put on the kettle. She tidied away the photos and pages on the table, put a magazine on top of them.

  Gary walked right past her into the apartment, and into the living room without saying a word.

  This place is so tiny. You look so big.

  ‘Nice place,’ he said.

  ‘Sit down,’ said Ren.

  Gary nodded. ‘Ren, look, I know this is inappropriate.’

  ‘No it’s not—’

  Oh, you’re not talking about calling in here.

  ‘I need you to do something for me,’ said Gary. ‘It’s … just … Karen was obviously wrong about you and me, but …’

  Oh, no.

  He nodded.

  Jesus Christ, Gary.

  ‘And you need me to cover for you,’ said Ren.

  ‘Yes,’ said Gary. ‘I wouldn’t ask—’

  Well, fuck that. I like Karen. We get along. I like Claire. I … respected you. Respected. Shit, Gary, you’re the moral one. Don’t make me lose faith in humanity. I didn’t realize how much I respected you until I stopped … round about two seconds ago.

  ‘Why would she have thought it was me, though?’ said Ren
.

  Gary gave her a patient look. ‘I know you enough to know you’re not a homewrecker,’ he said. ‘But, not all women see you that way.’

  That’s not very fair. Though I am, even now, thinking about fucking you. What is wrong with me? But I never would. So, yes, it is unfair.

  ‘But I get along with Karen,’ said Ren. ‘I like her a lot.’

  ‘I know,’ said Gary, ‘she’s obviously not thinking straight right now.’

  ‘How come you didn’t cover your tracks better?’ said Ren. ‘What did she find out?’

  ‘My saving grace is your love of champagne …’ said Gary.

  ‘It’s my saving grace too,’ said Ren.

  Gary shot out a laugh of relief. ‘A champagne cork … ended up in my overnight bag …’

  La la la la la la la …

  ‘Karen found it,’ said Gary. ‘I needed an explanation. And you were the quickest one I thought of.’

  ‘So, I’ve already helped you on this …’ said Ren.

  ‘Yes …’ said Gary.

  ‘What do you need me to do?’ said Ren.

  ‘Back me up,’ said Gary. ‘Call her.’

  This is grim.

  ‘So – let me get this straight,’ said Ren. ‘You said what exactly? That we were—’

  ‘In Breck,’ said Gary. ‘We had a bottle of champagne in the room, where my bag was open, but nothing happened between us. I hate champagne, she knows that. You were a safe and logical choice to be the person drinking it.’

  ‘Me, safe, logical and champagne …’ How have these words come together?

  ‘Well, it backfired anyway,’ said Gary. ‘She still thought something was going on.’

  ‘I’m kind of offended …’

  ‘Don’t be,’ said Gary. ‘She’s a wife who found a champagne cork in her husband’s overnight bag …’

  ‘I’d have a hard time believing anything after that.’

  ‘So, can you call her?’ said Gary.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Ren. ‘But … fuck.’

  ‘I know,’ said Gary.

  ‘If I’m going to do this very wrong thing,’ said Ren, ‘I’m going to do it right. You need to arm me with all the facts, so I don’t fuck up. There is no going back if I fuck this up. For either of us.’

  Gary nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  The fucking pressure.

  ‘Dates and times, please,’ said Ren. ‘And you’ll have to tell me who this woman is. I don’t want to know, that’s your business. But I need to know.’

  ‘I ended it,’ said Gary. ‘It’s over.’

  ‘Promise m—’

  ‘It’s over.’ He pulled out a notebook and tore out a page with a list of dates.

  Alrighty, then.

  ‘Thanks, Ren. I appreciate this.’ He stood up.

  I don’t want to do a quid pro quo, but …

  ‘Before you go,’ said Ren, ‘I want to run something by you …’

  She got up and gathered together the photos she had brought home from the office.

  ‘Did you print these at Safe Streets?’ said Gary. ‘In color?’

  Ren nodded.

  ‘Stop wasting ink and paper.’

  Internal eye roll. ‘On an unrelated note – here are three victims of a violent rapist and murderer … can you see how similar they look?’

  Gary looked across the line of photos. He looked back at Ren. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Three victims … that makes a serial killer, official definition. I’d like to call a meeting with DPD, see if we can—’

  ‘Who’s this third one?’ said Gary.

  ‘Donna Darisse, a prostitute reported missing this morning.’

  ‘So she’s not dead.’

  ‘Not found. She’s been missing since yesterday afternoon. Didn’t show up to collect her six-year-old from a play date. Apparently, that was totally out of character.’

  Gary stared at her. ‘Let me know when you have a body.’

  ‘There will be a body,’ said Ren. Mark my words!

  ‘I’m not doing this unless you’re one hundred per cent,’ said Gary.

  ‘OK – who …’ the fuck ‘could be one hundred per cent about something like this?’ Seriously.

  ‘At the very least, a body is a one hundred per cent guarantee of a death.’

  High-larious. ‘I want Donna Darisse to be safe and well,’ said Ren. ‘I just don’t feel in my gut that she is.’

  ‘Let me know when you have a body.’

  I heard you the first time.

  ‘There’s another thing,’ said Ren, ‘I spoke with Jonathan Briar, and—’

  ‘And his lawyer, I hope …’

  Not so much. ‘Well, I just had a few little—’

  ‘Ren, for crying out loud! What were you thinking? He’ll never let us talk to him again if you—’

  ‘It was fine,’ said Ren. ‘We got along OK. I helped him out in his apartment. He answered my questions, but … he was lying about something, about a night out they had two weeks before Hope Coulson disappeared.’

  ‘If you think he was lying,’ said Gary, ‘that he’s got something to hide, then the next time we might need him for something, that lawyer won’t let us within a mile of him. Jesus Christ, Ren. You know this. Why are we having this conversation?’

  Gary’s phone beeped. He checked it. He turned the screen to Ren.

  ‘Looks like you’ve got your one hundred per cent guarantee,’ said Ren.

  13

  Ren and Gary drove through the city of Arvada and ten miles along Highway 72 into the unincorporated part of Jefferson County.

  And another jurisdiction joins the party.

  The flashing lights of the police cruisers led them to the small collection of warehouses where Donna Darisse’s body had been found by a carload of college kids looking for nothing other than an out-of-the-way place to go through a few six-packs.

  Cliff James was standing sentry.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ren, hugging him.

  He held her extra long.

  ‘How’s Brenda doing?’ said Gary.

  ‘We’re doing good,’ said Cliff. He smiled, but his eyes were sad. ‘It’s not a pretty sight back there.’

  Donna Darisse lay beside a row of dumpsters, outside one of the warehouses.

  Robbie, Everett and Janine were gathered a distance away from the body.

  Poor Janine. So much for her plan to be unconscious.

  Ren and Gary went straight to Donna Darisse’s body. She was naked, except for her bloodstained white cowboy boots, lying on her stomach, facing away from the wall, her arms behind her back, her wrists bound with cable ties. Her face was swollen to twice its size, the flesh bursting and cut and oozing. Her red dress and tiny red lace G-string were discarded ten feet away, along with a blonde wig. Cheap glamor, transformed into something poignant and tragic when met with such boundless savagery.

  Ren looked for a moment at the stars above, and breathed in and out, in and out, until she could face looking back down.

  This is beyond horrific.

  From her lower back, down her bare buttocks, and between Donna Darisse’s legs was a terrible mess that could have been nothing other than the result of a chemical burn.

  Acid.

  Ren felt like her body was liquefying inside. She felt spikes of pain in the same places where Donna Darisse had been brutalized. Her stomach churned.

  I have no words.

  They went over to join the others. Everyone looked grim-faced and tired.

  ‘Dr Tolman is on vacation,’ said Janine. ‘We have a stand-in …’

  A hooting laugh broke out. They all looked up, knowing that it meant who that stand-in was: Dr Mark Gaston, the new Medical Examiner for the 18th Judicial District, which covered Arapahoe, Douglas, Elbert and Lincoln Counties. Gaston was forty-five, but looked early thirties. His pouting lips were his most striking feature, followed by the prince-from-an-animation hair: light brown, thick, and wavy, the type of hair that marked out genera
tions of the same family, the type that was celebrated in portraits.

  Arrogant hair. Book of Wrong.

  Gaston walked toward them.

  Ren leaned into the others. ‘Gaston always looks like he’s been called away from seducing a nineteen-year-old. “OMG – you’re a Medical Examiner! So hot!”’

  Gaston was too close for them to laugh.

  ‘Is that a dead hooker on the ground or are you making excuses to see me?’ said Gaston, smiling at Ren. He crouched down beside Donna Darisse. ‘Yes, she is dead. Despite all signs to the contrary.’ He stood up. ‘And that’s acid. That’s a man who’s going all out not to leave any swimmers behind. Die, boys, die!’

  Swimmers … ugh.

  ‘How long’s she been missing?’ said Gaston.

  ‘About forty-eight hours,’ said Ren.

  ‘I’m guessing she was killed not long after that,’ said Gaston. ‘Not here, though. The scene is too clean. But you don’t need me to tell you that. Let me do my thang and I’ll let your boys in. Stand back, bitches. Dr G is here.’

  Dear.

  God.

  ‘I’m going to do you a favor here,’ he said, when he was finished. ‘I’m going to prioritize this little lady. So, if you want to meet me at the autopsy suite at seven a.m., I’ll bump her to the top of my list.’

  He’s a hooker with a heart.

  ‘Appreciate it,’ said Gary.

  ‘Ren?’ said Gaston. ‘You up for the early-morning autopsy?’ He almost winked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Gary. He turned to Ren. ‘I gotta go – can I leave this with you? I need to get back.’

  To whom?

  ‘No problem,’ said Ren. She looked at Gaston. ‘You won’t be too tired?’

  ‘I’ve done a ton of coke,’ said Gaston. ‘I was expecting a different night.’ He laughed loud.

  ‘Everett?’ said Ren. ‘You up for it?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  She turned to Janine. Her face was white, her eyes narrowed in pain. ‘Janine, you go home, sleep,’ said Ren. ‘Robbie, we’ll notify the next-of-kin. Everett – here are the keys to my place. We’ll join you there right after.’

  ‘What?’ said Everett.

  ‘I don’t want to waste any time,’ said Ren. ‘You can sleep on the sofa for a half hour. And I promise you high-end coffee on our return.’

  Ren and Robbie arrived back to the apartment at four a.m. and woke Everett up.