SPIRIT OF CONSEQUENCE (A Spirit Walking Mystery Book 1) (22 page)

“What do you mean?”

“He kills, then tattoos, and adds the medal, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what the coroner thinks.”

“He said that the stones were penance to save the girls. I told him that he killed them before they had a chance to do penance. He didn’t save them, he condemned them.”

“How’d he take that?”

“Oh, it made him angry, very angry.”

Dodge turned and took my hands, the lines in his face deepened. “Pissing off a serial killer wasn’t probably the best thing to do.”

“What was he going to do, come and kill me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe shaking him up was a good idea. If he starts to question his game, maybe he’ll change it up and make a mistake.”

“A mistake that will allow you to catch him.”

“Of course. That’s what mistakes usually do.” He kissed me on the nose. “You are so smart.”

I leaned in and he kissed me. One thing led to another and it didn’t take us long to get our clothes off and mess the bedding up.

Afterward, he kissed me gently on the lips. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“What?”

“Disappear.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened.”

“Well, don’t let it happen again.”

I reached over and pulled his lips to mine. “I’ll try.”

Just as I kissed him, there was a knock at the door.

“Yes,” he said as he kissed me on the neck.

“Dodge, it’s Dexter.”

“Of course it is,” I told Dodge. “That man has the worst timing of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“The hotlines have been set up and we’re starting to get calls.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Dodge grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly.

“I guess I’ll stay here.”

“No!” Dodge bellowed.

I raised my eyebrows. “What’s the matter?”

“You might disappear again. I want you where I can see you.”

I shook my head. “Like that’s going to help.”

“I don’t care. I’ll feel better.”

“Okay.” I stood up and changed into my green sweatsuit.

He looked over as he tried to pull his pants on. “Hey, that’s no fair. You can get dressed a lot faster than I can.”

“One of my talents.”

Dodge slid his pants on, then reached and pulled me close to him. “That’s not your best one.”

I laughed and he finished getting dressed.

When Dodge opened the door, Dexter stood in the hallway. “Is that all the two of you do?” he asked.

“As often as we can,” Dodge replied.

“Am I ever going to meet this woman?” Dexter asked.

“Of course,” Dodge replied.

Dexter stepped toward the door, but Dodge closed it. “But not today.”

Chapter 23

I followed the two men back to the conference room.

Marge sat at the table, cursing her computer. “Stupid damn machine!”

“What’s the matter, Marge?” Dodge asked.

“I’m trying to check my emails and I’ve got a zillion messages from pharmaceutical companies.” She tilted the screen down and scowled. “Do I look like I need male enhancements?”

Marge didn’t look like she needed anything, dressed in black jeans that left nothing to the imagination, red crop top, and red Guess
ankle boots in all-over crinkled patent leather.
She was a woman who could take care of herself and anyone else too. I sat down next to her.

Dexter laughed and started to sit in my lap.

Dodge protested quickly, “No, sit on the other side, Dexter.”

“Okay.” Dexter frowned, then sat down in the seat on the other side. “Marge, most men would need those enhancements just to keep up with you.”

Marge grinned and began typing. “That’s true. Maybe I’ll forward these to a few friends of mine.”

“Can we get back to work?” Dodge asked, impatience evident in his stern tone.

“Sure, I’m ready,” Dexter said. “It’s Marge that’s doing personal stuff on police time.”

Marge pushed her computer away from her and glowered at Dexter. “I’m ready too.”

“Okay, anything new on Tami’s death?” Dodge asked taking the seat across from them.

“Not really,” Marge said. “Her toxin screens came back clean, just like the other victims. He’s not drugging them.”

Marge’s computer made a rushing water sound. She smiled and shrugged. “New email.”

“What about other marks on the body?” Dodge asked.

“Same tattoo, same white cotton fibers from the rope used to strangle her, and same stupid medallion. This guy has a game plan and he’s not deviating from it one little bit,” Marge said.

“Anything on the suspect’s photo?” Dodge asked.

Marge’s computer made the noise again.

“Popular woman,” Dexter teased.

Marge frowned at him and then answered Dodge’s question. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen the sketch. What does the creep look like?”

Her computer made the rushing water noise again.

“Sorry,” she said peevishly, with a sudden downturn of her mouth.

“Can’t you turn that noise off?” Dodge asked, his tone turning firm again.

“Sure.” Marge pulled the computer toward her and started typing. “Damn it! I’ve got twelve new emails. I’ve deleted at least twenty from this guy already.”

“New boyfriend you’re ignoring?” Dexter said with a cocky grin.

“No, they’re all from some Seaside Alert person.”

“Wait, Dodge.” I got up and stood behind Marge. “Those are important. Tell her not to delete them.”

Dodge stood up. “Stop, Marge.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Those might be important, open them up. That’s the guy we got the information from about the professor.”

Dexter rolled his eyes. “It’s his source’s source.”

“Why is he sending so many messages to me?” Marge asked. “Neither of them are my sources.”

“Could we stop talking about the emails and open them?” I shouted to Dodge. “A seaside alert means something is wrong.”

Dodge looked at me, then back to Marge. “Open them.”

Marge started with the oldest. The first few just said, “Lady Luck – bounce me.”

“What’s bounce me mean?” Marge asked.

Dodge looked at me and I shrugged.

“Maybe it means to email him back,” Dexter suggested.

“Could be,” Dodge replied. “Keep opening them.”

They got more urgent.

“Pick up, Lady Luck.”

“You’ve got a spook. Pick up!”

“What’s a spook?” Dexter asked.

Dodge looked at me again.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m about as computer literate as you.”

Dodge shook his head. “Keep going.”

The next few were repeats of the previous message.

“Someone’s trashing around this box. Dump it!” the message said.

“A box?”

“I know this one,” Dodge said. “A box is your computer.”

“Okay, how can someone be trashing around it? Where am I supposed to dump it?” Marge asked.

“Keep going, maybe he gets more specific,” Dodge suggested.

Dodge was right because several emails latter, Sponge wrote, “I don’t know why you’re not responding. Someone’s wandering around all the files on this box. He’s searching for you, Lady Luck. Dump this box!”

Then I saw the last email. It was from Sponge’s own email address. If he’d sent it directly to me, something was terribly wrong. I pointed to the last. “Dodge, open this last one.”

Dodge pointed to the screen. “Open this.”

“Who is Sponge?”

“Just open it up.”

The email was addressed to Sam.

The use of my real name made my heart stop. I didn’t think Sponge knew my real name.

The email continued, “This is too important to use screen names. I know this isn’t your own box, but someone is searching for you through it. He followed the path from the professor to you. Whoever it is, he’s very good. The path wasn’t straight but he still found it. Take the box to the nearest garbage can, leave it on, and toss it. It’s being tracked. Don’t bounce back, but get out!”

“Who is Sam?” Marge asked.

Dodge shook his head. “I don’t know.” He stood up. “I need to make a call.”

“Calling your source?” Dexter asked.

“Yes,” Dodge said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Dodge left the room and I followed him. He went into a room marked Housekeeping.

“Samantha, what does all that mean?”

“I’m not really sure. Sponge is my friend who found the information on the professor. If he thinks someone is trying to find me, then he’s right.”

“How can someone be looking for you? You’re dead.”

“They’re not looking for me, they’re looking for whoever asked for the information.”

“You used my computer in our hotel room, why didn’t Sponge send these messages to that computer?”

“Because the last time I looked at the information, we used Marge’s computer. Sponge is smart enough to track his own information and emails. He knew I switched boxes, and obviously, so did the person searching for me. Do you think it’s the killer?”

“It could be. He saw you in the ballroom and he doesn’t know you’re a ghost. He must think that you’re a real person who can sense him.”

“Why do you think he wants to find me?” I asked.

“You made him question his methods, right?”

“I guess.”

“He probably wants to convince you he’s doing it the right way and that you’re wrong.”

“Fat chance of that,” I chuckled.

“Yeah, well,” Dodge muttered and opened the door. “Maybe I can use it to trap him.”

We walked back to the conference room. When we opened the door Dexter sat at the table with Stan, the FBI profiler, who wore the same suit but now had on a muted green shirt. Marge was gone.

“Where’s Marge?” Dodge asked.

“She just realized that she left her cell phone in her room, so she went back for it.”

Dodge nodded and sat down at the table. “Stan, what would happen if someone questioned this guy’s methods?”

Stan set down the file in his hands and frowned. “What do you mean?”

Dodge told him about my conversation with the killer.

Stan’s frown intensified. “If it’s someone important to him, it might make him mad, especially if it made sense. He might go after that person.”

“Why?” Dodge asked.

“It’s all set in his mind. Why he’s doing it, the way he’s doing it – it’s important to him. If someone unimportant questioned that, he’d probably dismiss it. It sounds like he feels a connection to the person he talked with. If that person’s scenario of the crime disrupts his own, there’s no telling what he would be capable of.”

“We already know he’s a monster; what else could he do?” Dexter asked.

“He could change up his MO. It would be much more difficult to catch him if, all of a sudden, he started doing things totally differently.” Stan pointed to the computer, “Do you think that’s who is looking for your source, Dodge?”

“I think so.”

“Then that person would be in real danger. If this guy’s smart enough to snoop in a cop’s computer with all its security, then he could find that person easily.”

“You better bring your source into protective custody, Dodge.” Dexter suggested.

Dodge shook his head. “No, she’s fine.”

“Why is the killer looking for your source in Marge’s computer?” Stan asked.

“We used it to access some information from her source. The killer probably tracked it through that.”

“Then wouldn’t he be thinking that Marge is your source?” Stan asked.

Dodge and Dexter looked at each other, then both jumped up.

“I’ll call her cell phone,” Dexter said as the two men ran from the conference room.

I followed them, keeping pace as best I could. They were in much better shape than me. How was that possible? I’m a ghost but the killer thinks that Marge is me. What is he going to do to her when he tries to communicate with her without talking and realizes that she isn’t me?

“No answer,” Dexter said as he spoke Marge’s name again and his phone dialed her number.

“We should have thought of this,” Dodge called as he opened the door to the stairs.

“She’ll be fine, Dodge,” Dexter said. “She’s a tough girl and she never goes anywhere without her Glock.”

They ran up the stairs to the fifth floor. I felt guilty. If Marge was in trouble, it was because of me, because I used her laptop to give the information to Dodge.

Dodge stopped at room 578. He knocked. “Marge, it’s Dodge. Let me in.”

No answer.

Dexter called her phone again. We could hear it ringing through the door. I didn’t wait for Dodge to ask, I went inside.

The room was a mess. Desk chair was turned over, bed sheets ripped from the bed and spewed on the floor and there was a big dark stain on the floor by the coffee table. Marge wasn’t there. I ran back out. “Dodge, the room’s trashed and there’s blood.”

“Let’s break it in,” Dodge told Dexter.

Both men pulled their guns and hit the door at the same time. It flew open. Dodge went high, Dexter went low. I walked through the middle of them.

“She’s been taken.” Dodge shook his head in disbelief.

“Why?” Dexter gave a slight head shake, denying what was obvious.

“That damn computer and those emails.” Dodge explained, the muscles in his face tightening.

“He’s searching for
your
source and he thinks it’s Marge.”

Dodge shot me a glance.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have used Marge’s machine,” I told him.

Dodge shook his head.

“What?” Dexter said.

“Nothing.” Dodge tapped his phone and said, “Las Vegas PD.” Then he waited a few moments and said, “I need a crime scene unit to room 578. A member of my team’s been taken by our killer.”

Just then we heard a phone ringing.

“That’s Marge’s phone.” Dexter said.

“Find it!” Dodge barked, then into his own phone, he said, “I want this hotel sealed off immediately. Put up road blocks. This man is not getting away!”

Dexter found the phone under Marge’s bed, along with her gun.

Dodge pushed a button on Marge’s earpiece to engage the speaker and then answered, “Yes.”

“Well, hello. Who am I speaking to?”

“Who’s this?” Dodge barked back.

“That doesn’t really matter. I’ll ask one more time and then I’m hanging up. Who is this?”

“Inspector Benson.”

“Oh, I hoped you’d answer the phone. I thought this phone belonged to Samantha, but this lady does not have her ability. Can I talk to Samantha?”

Dexter glared at Dodge, then mouthed, “Samantha’s your informant?”

“She’s not here right now. Can I tell her who is calling?” Dodge threw his phone to Dexter, covered the speaker on the phone and said, “Go outside and get them to trace this call.”

Dexter nodded and left the room.

The man on the phone laughed, it was low and more like a growl than a real laugh. “Then this very strong and quite unconscious lady is going to die.”

“Wait,” Dodge said. “I can get her, but it’s going to take me a few minutes.

I walked over toward Dodge. “I’m right here. Hand me the phone.”