Merciless (26 page)

“I’ll do what you say.”

He released Dixon’s neck. Instantly Dixon sucked in air. He’d only been afraid three times in his life. When he’d found his girlfriend’s killer leaning over her dead body all those years ago. The second time had been when Garrison had arrested him for attempted murder. Garrison questioned Dixon for hours about Lulu and the missing prostitutes. The cop had sworn to link Dixon to all the women. But he’d kept quiet, knowing silence would serve him as it had in the past.

The third time was now. Now he was afraid of this partner he had brought into his life. He hoped silence would be enough to save him this time.

The ride to Vivian Sweet’s house was solemn and quiet. A heaviness had settled on Angie’s shoulders, and she found emotions kept jabbing her.

Malcolm pulled up in front of the small house and waited for her as she walked around the front of the car. He followed her up the front walk. She rang the bell.

Vivian appeared seconds later. The lines on her face deepened when she saw them. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face pale. “I dreamed about her last night. I dreamed that she’d died.”

Malcolm drew in a breath.

But it was Angie that spoke. “Her body was identified early this morning.”

“Identified this morning. You couldn’t tell it was her just by looking at her?” Her knees buckled, and Angie pushed forward and caught her under the arm. She guided Vivian inside and helped her sit on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sweet.”

“How did she die?”

“We’ve yet to determine that,” Malcolm said. His voice held a tenderness she’d never heard before.

The silence in the house tweaked Angie’s senses. “Where is the baby? Where is David?”

“In his bed asleep. He’s been cranky all morning. He must sense that his mama is gone.”

“Do you have someone who can stay with you?” Angie said. “Someone who can help you with the baby?”

“Got a neighbor who said she’d come by. Should be here soon.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be alone.” Vivian needed care, but so did the baby. And Vivian, her body so fragile and worn as it was, didn’t have the strength to care for him now.

“I can call social services,” Malcolm said.

“That’s not necessary,” Angie said. “Vivian and her neighbor can watch out for him today.”

Malcolm shifted his weight as if wrestling with a new frustration. “Right. But what about tomorrow?”

Vivian looked up at Angie, her eyes watery and red. “He’s right about tomorrow. I don’t have it in me to take care of him. I was barely holding on, hoping Lulu would return. Now I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”

The idea of turning the boy over to strangers or social services made her sick. “I’ll help you figure out something. I promise.”

“Did she suffer?” Vivian said. “Did my girl suffer?”

Angie did not want to lie, but the truth could not be good. Her killer had stripped the flesh from her bones for a reason. “She’s at peace now.”

Vivian dropped her face to her hands and cried. For long, tense minutes Malcolm stood over them while
Angie patted the woman on the back. And then in a split second the front doorbell rang, and the baby wailed.

“I’ll get the door,” Malcolm said.

Angie nodded and rose, knowing she’d take care of David. She found the boy standing in his crib holding on to the railing. His eyes were watery, and he clutched a pacifier in his mouth. He smiled when he saw Angie. She grinned and picked him up. The weight of his diaper told her he needed a change. She’d never changed a diaper before, but how hard could it be? She carried him to the changing table.

“Hey, guy,” she said.

He raised his hands and grabbed her lip.

She laughed, pulled his hand away, and kissed his palm. “I don’t know much about diapers, but I can manage.”

He kicked and squirmed as she unsnapped his pants. She stared at the diaper, not quite sure what to do first. She smiled at the boy, who kicked his feet harder.

“The neighbor is here,” Malcolm said. He stood in the doorway.

“Great.”

“Are you changing him?” No missing the amazement in his voice.

She blew a wisp of hair from her eyes. “That’s the plan.”

“And you’ve never done it before.”

“Not even once.”

He moved beside her and grabbed a diaper from the shelf below. He made quick work of stripping the soiled diaper and replacing it with a fresh one.

“I’m impressed, Detective.”

“Niece and nephew. I babysit from time to time.” He handed her the baby.

Emotion hitched her throat. “You’ll be a great dad.”

Angie hadn’t dwelled too much on the fact that she couldn’t have children. It was what it was. But for the first time in seven years, a well of sadness rose up in her. She simply wanted to cry.

The visit to Vivian Sweet’s house weighed heavily on Angie’s mind as she parked illegally on the city street corner near a newsstand. She dug in her handbag and fished out her change purse, and locking her car, dashed to the newsstand. She counted out a handful of quarters and glanced up at the news guy, a black fellow who wore a red knit hat and a blue scarf wrapped three times around his neck.

“A paper to go with a diet soda,” she said.

“You’re usually my magazine junkie.” He grabbed a cold soda from a small refrigerator and a paper.

“What?”

“You show up the third week of every month and clean me out of magazines. You never buy a paper.”

He was yet another person who noticed her habits. “My paper never showed up this morning.”

“You are a news junky.” He pulled a paper, folded it, and handed it to her.

“Am I that obvious?” She never considered that he’d noticed her buying habits.

“I know most of my regulars’ habits.”

She wondered who else noticed her habits. Maybe the time had come to mix things up a bit. “How much do I owe you?”

“Five dollars.”

She dropped the money in his hand, replaced her change purse, and grabbed the soda and paper. “If I don’t get back to my car I’m going to get another ticket.”

“Get going then.”

She smiled, turned suddenly in a rush to get to her car, and smacked right into a man who felt more like a wall than flesh and bone. Her gaze darted up as she uttered an apology.

Her words halted before they were uttered. “I know you.”

“From group.” He wore a dark turtleneck, a blazer, and jeans. He’d chosen a relaxed style, and yet his aura possessed a formality better suited for a military uniform.

She’d never run into anyone from group before, and it unnerved her a little bit to have that world collide with this one. “Hey.”

“Angie, right?” He held out his hand, and she hesitated before taking it.

“Right.” Warm, strong fingers wrapped around her hand, igniting a jolt of energy. She pulled her hand free. “Good to see you.”

He nodded to the paper. “Hear about that woman they found?”

“It’s in the paper?”

“On the radio this morning. Weird, isn’t it? Another chick reduced to bones.”

Her senses tensed. “Why would you bring that up?”

He shrugged. “Just making conversation. News reports say you were her attorney.”

She shoved out a breath. “I’ve got to go.”

He followed. “Do you work in this area?”

She stopped and stared at him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Robert. From group.”

Angie shook her head, studying his face. “What do you really want?”

“How about that cup of coffee?”

“Sorry, no time.”

The last thing she wanted was to spend more time with him. She just wanted to keep moving. No reason not to like this guy, but she didn’t.

“Maybe I’ll see you around. Seeing as we work in the same area.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She glanced past him to her car. A police car was making its way down the block. “I’ve got to go.”

He looked frustrated. “Yeah, sure.”

Angie didn’t look back as she ran to her car, but she sensed that he stared at her.

Dr. Dixon had to work quickly. After the visit from his partner he needed to act soon if he was going to save Angie. He slumped low in a parked car in the darkened parking garage, sipping coffee, watching her empty parking space. He’d been following Angie for months, standing in the shadows learning all her habits.

One thing he had learned was that her boss, Charlotte Wellington, had a thing for security, so getting a hold of Angie in her offices would be hard. Not impossible, but hard.

Her black BMW pulled into her spot, and she burst from her car, briefcase in hand. Long legs carried her across the deck to the elevator. Quickly, she punched the button.

He rubbed his hands on the steering wheel, anticipating what it would feel like to touch her bare flesh. He couldn’t wait for the day.

Dixon would have to work quickly. His partner would not appreciate him changing their arrangement. But as soon as Dixon had Angie, he’d have her out of
the country in less than an hour, and then they’d have a lifetime together.

The elevator doors opened, and she vanished into the car.

His body hardened at the prospect of having her. A restless energy stirred. The raw sexual energy inside him was so powerful it made his skin crawl. He had to exorcise the demons clawing at his insides.

He shouldn’t be out in public now trolling the streets for a whore, but he needed the release or he’d never be able to concentrate on taking Angie.

“I found whores before
him
and didn’t get caught. I’ll do fine without
him
.” He’d learned his lesson when Garrison had arrested him. Have your fun, pay your money, but just don’t get too rough.

Holding back would be hard—he so enjoyed a woman when she cried and begged him to stop—but he would find a way not to be too rough. A little pain would have to suffice.

He put his car in drive and headed toward his favorite street corner.

Tuesday, October 11, 5
P.M.

Malcolm strode into ZZ’s and spotted Margo standing behind the bar. She wore a sleeveless shirt that accentuated toned arms covered with tattoos. She glanced up at him. His scowl deepened.

He showed her his badge. “Margo.”

“Cop.”

“Got a few questions.”

She set the glass down and leaned into the bar. “You were here the other night.”

“That’s right.”

“That chick with Eva was a cop.”

“Nope. Attorney.”

She shrugged. “Just as bad. What do you want? I told all the cops that I haven’t seen Lulu.”

“Lulu Sweet is dead.”

For a moment, granite features softened. “Sorry to hear that.”

“I’ve got a few questions.”

“I don’t have many answers.”

Malcolm leaned into the bar. “I got friends in Vice that would like nothing better than to camp their asses on your barstools and chat with your customers.”

“I ain’t got nothing to hide.”

“Then don’t worry.” He pushed away. “When you are ready to scramble for answers could you let me know? I’ll call the bloodhounds off then.”

Margo cursed under her breath. “Ass.”

“That a yes?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anybody seen Tony?”

“Nope. He split right after Lulu vanished.”

“Anybody hanging around Lulu or talking to or hassling her?”

“Not more than usual. She was cute and bubbly, and the dudes liked that.”

“What about her purse?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Really? I smell bloodhounds.”

“Shit. Behind the bar.”

He didn’t mention that she’d told the other cops the purse had been nowhere to be found. “Thanks.”

It was a satchel fashioned out of blue-jean material with brightly colored patches on the side. He fished through it. Comb, wallet with no cash in it, gum, crackers, and in the very bottom a wad of paper. He set the purse on the bar and unfurled the paper. It was a handwritten note.

“Any idea who might have given this to her?”

She read the note. “No, I really don’t. If anybody was bugging her, she never said.”

He handed her one of his business cards. “If you think of anything or see Tony, call me.”

“Got you on speed dial, sport.”

Malcolm’s head pounded as he pushed through the front door of King’s. He saw Angie sitting at the bar. She was talking to Eva and doing something he didn’t see often. She was smiling.

Whatever was coiled inside of him eased, and tension melted from his shoulders. She’d been in his thoughts the better part of the day. Seeing her standing over the baby not knowing how to change a diaper. The way she’d watched him with that kid, her eyes sad and reflective. It must sting like hell to hold a kid and know you’d never have one of your own.

As he moved toward the bar, Eva looked up and spotted him. She nodded and mentioned to Angie that he’d arrived. She turned. The smile faded from her face. In an instant, the light vanished. The
serious
Angie had returned, and he was sorry for it.

He sat beside her and grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl on the bar. “Eva, I could use a beer, but give me a soda.”

“Sure.”

She poured a tall soda and set it in front of him. “You want what you ordered the other night?”

“I don’t remember what I had.”

“Chili, crackers, extra hot sauce.”

He jostled peanuts in his hand. “How do you remember that?”

“She has a photographic memory,” Angie said. “She could tell you what you wore two months ago. Or what you ate that day.”

“Garrison said something about you having a good memory. I didn’t realize it was that extreme.”

Eva shrugged. “Sometimes. Remembering isn’t always the best.” She punched his order into the computer.

“What do you remember about your father?” Malcolm asked.

She arched a brow. “Where did that come from?”

“I’ve been chewing on this Fay Willow case on and off all day. Has your sister told you about our visit to the women’s prison?”

Angie faced him. “I didn’t supply many details because she doesn’t need to know.”

He shrugged. “Back off, Mama Bear. I’m just asking.”

Eva refilled Angie’s water glass. “I’ve been after her to tell me, but she won’t. She and Garrison think I’m made of glass.”

He faced Angie. “She won’t break if I ask her questions about her father.”

“She doesn’t need the stress.”

Eva laughed. “She can talk for herself, Angie. And
she
does remember a little about her father.”

He shifted his gaze back to Eva. “What do you remember?”

“He was fun. He made me laugh. Always had a magic trick. But the more I dig back to the past, I remember that he and Mom were never really happy. He would be out a lot at night, and when he came back she’d argue with him. She cried often.”

“Why did he leave?”

“I don’t know. One day he was there, and then one day he was gone.”

“Louise said that Darius forced Frank to hire Blue.”

Eva shrugged. “I don’t know. It all went over my head.”

Garrison pushed through the front door of the bar. He came around the bar, took Eva in his arms, and kissed her. Several customers whooped and hollered, but he didn’t seem to care.

Color rose in Angie’s face as she watched the two embrace.

Malcolm’s phone rang, and he was relieved to answer it. “Kier.” He lifted his gaze, growing darker and slowly shifting to Angie. “Are you very sure?” He listened and then nodded. “Thanks.”

“What was that about?” Angie said.

Garrison picked up on her tone and shifted his gaze while keeping his arm around Eva.

“An undercover cop working the streets called in. Dixon is back on the prowl. He’s talking to hookers.”

“He’s not done that since his trial,” Garrison said.

“He understands that keeping his nose clean is part of staying out of jail,” Angie said.

“Yeah, but why now?” Kier said. “What has changed?”

“Maybe he was just biding his time,” Eva offered.

Angie shook her head. “He was interviewed by the cops only a week ago. He’d have to be a fool to solicit sex. It’s what got him into trouble in the first place.”

“He was so careful, and now he’s taking risks. Why?” Malcolm turned to Angie. “You need to be very careful.”

“Me? Why?”

“He has a thing for you. I could see it in the way he looked at you in the courtroom.”

“We
had
a strictly professional relationship.” She wasn’t sure why she needed to say that to Malcolm.

“I’m not saying you didn’t. But I’m not so sure about him. You said he’d came around last week.”

“He wanted legal advice.”

“And when you said no?”

“He wasn’t happy, but he dealt with it.”

Kier shook his head. “Be very, very careful, Counselor. If he’s taking small risks, he could be getting ready to take big risks.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you’re a big girl.” Sarcasm rattled around the words. “But you may have a lunatic that’s got you in his sights.”

Eva reached across the bar and laid her hand on Angie’s. “Be careful. I know firsthand how clever they can be.”

Dixon had tied the woman to the hotel bed. Tear streaks and mascara trailed down the side of her face. She wasn’t bleeding. He’d been careful not to make her bleed. And when the bruises darkened her pale skin, a shirt and pants would cover them easily. He’d only bitten her once on the underside of her breast.

He pulled up his pants, fastened the top button, and zipped up. He liked watching her twist at her bindings and try to hold off the tears. Given a little more time, she’d have been weeping and begging. But he didn’t dare risk it.

He pulled two hundred dollars from his pocket and tossed it on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed, and the cheap mattress sunk under his weight. Humming, he reached for her bindings and slowly untied them.

The woman quickly sat up and rubbed the red raw bands around her wrists.

He grabbed her by the chin and held her face. “You and I are going to keep this little date private, aren’t we?”

Her agreement came quick and sure. “Yes.”

“Good. I don’t need trouble, and you don’t need trouble from me.” He pulled a small camera from his pocket and snapped several photos. “Got it?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “I get it. I get it.”

His desire satisfied, he was anxious to get rid of her. “Get your clothes and get out of here.”

She scrambled off the bed and quickly pulled on a short jean miniskirt and tank top. She grabbed her purse and snatched the money off the nightstand.

“Maybe I’ll call you again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She hurried out of the room. Dixon sat on the bed for a moment, savoring the total sense of relaxation. His thoughts were clear now. He could plan his escape with Angie.

The motel door opened, but he didn’t bother a glance up. “What did you forget?”

A heavy silence hung in the room, sending a sting of fear through his limbs. He rose and turned, his fingers fisted.

The whore stood in the doorway, but she wasn’t alone. His partner was with her. The Other held the woman’s neck in his hands, squeezing so hard she couldn’t move.

His expression was as dark as Satan’s and made him seem all the more frightening and imposing.

“What are you doing?” he said in a cool, even voice as he pushed the door closed behind him.

“Just having a little fun.”

“I told you, no more fun. Not now.” He shoved hard, and the woman tumbled forward onto the carpeted floor. She wept and crawled toward Dixon as if he would somehow save her.

Dixon ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I just needed to release some tension.”

“That’s what you said when you picked up Lulu Sweet the first time. That led to one hell of a mess.”

“I kept quiet, just as we agreed. I never implicated you.”

“No, but you put a crimp in my fun. We had to lay low for a year because you couldn’t control yourself.”

“I didn’t get rough with her like I did with Lulu the first time.”

“You’ve created a loose end who will talk to someone sooner or later.”

The woman glanced up at him. “I won’t talk. I swear.”

The man pulled a knife from his back pocket. The woman gasped and screamed. The customers who came to this motel heard screams often and didn’t call the cops unless it became really annoying. “No, you will not.”

“Shit!” Dixon gasped.

He held out the knife to Dixon. “Clean up your mess.”

Dixon held up his hands. “Me? I don’t like that part.”

“You made the mess—now you have to tidy it up.”

He shrank away as the woman wailed. “No.”

A smile twisted his partner’s face, and he stepped forward and in one smooth move grabbed the woman by the hair and sliced her neck. Instantly she collapsed to the floor. Her blood pooled around her head as the air gurgled from her lungs.

“Shit!” Dixon wailed. “What have you done? My fingerprints and DNA are all over this room.” He backed up a step so that the whore’s blood didn’t touch his shoes. “I’m not going to jail for this.”

“No, you won’t go to jail for this.”

Dixon wanted to run in the bathroom and vomit. “Then what the hell was the point of killing her?”

The Other shrugged as he tossed the knife on the floor beside the woman. “Fun. Entertainment. Boredom.”

“I can’t do this anymore with you. I can’t.”

“I understand.” His smile was warm and forgiving. “It’s too much.”

Dixon’s breathing slowed just a fraction. “You’ll let me go.”

“Of course. But I need you to do a favor for me.”

Dixon’s hands trembled, and it was all he could do not to piss on himself. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Suit yourself.”

Dixon dashed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. His eyes watered. The muscles in his stomach ached. Finally, he swiped his hand over his mouth and rose.

“Now about that favor.”

“What do you need from me?”

“The cops need someone to blame these murders on. I’ve got the perfect persontogive them. Let’sgotomycar.”

“Your car? Why?”

“The less people who see you now, the better. Let’s go.”

Dixon grabbed his coat and tie and wobbled out the door to the dark sedan. He slid into the front seat, his nerves and body dancing with illness and adrenaline.

He laid his head back against the soft seat. “Why do you like to kill so much?”

“It’s a dark hobby, I’ll admit.”

“How long have you been killing?”

He shrugged. “I killed my first woman when I was sixteen.”

“Shit.”

The Other nodded, amazed by his own admission. “Something, isn’t it?”

Dixon opened his eyes to say something else but felt
the prick of a needle in the side of his neck. His head immediately spun. His gaze grew hazy.

“You’re killing me,” he choked.

“Never make a deal with the scorpion. They’ll sting you every time.”

The call on the prostitute came in around midnight. The hotel owner had rented the room for five hours, and time had come up and customers were waiting. He’d found the woman and called the cops.

Now Kier and Garrison stood by the body, staring down at the woman who lay on her stomach, blood pooling around her head.

“Is she the one who left with Dixon?” Malcolm said.

“Yeah.” The woman that answered was dressed like a hooker—tight pants, a tube top, and a gold belt—but she had a badge slung around her neck. Her name was Officer Julian. “Her name is Foxy. She’s been in town a couple of months. Not more than twenty years old.”

Malcolm studied the body, noting the bruising around her throat and the bite mark on her shoulder. “The bruising and bites are classic Dixon.”

“No doubt the medical examiner will find bruising on the inside of her legs and signs of very rough sex,” Garrison said.

Julian’s bright red lips flattened. “The girls in the area were surprised to see him. They told Foxy not to go with him, but he was paying two hundred for an hour. She decided the money was worth it.”