He removed the tape recorder from his pocket and slid the cassette into his player. Once again he heard her whispering cries, oh, there was some begging involved and he smiled to himself as he thought of the others…how he wou
ld draw out their torment so that he wasn’t disappointed again. There was so much work to be done, so many more who would pay, and the notes, he had to write them carefully, guiding the police down one path before veering sharply. He smiled as he pulled out his album and looked at the remaining victims. Their terror would be complete. They would know how they had failed him. They would understand why they were doomed to their own private hells.
He would make certain of it.
CHAPTER 8
“You got the name of a good attorney?” Morrisette asked the next morning as she strode into Reed’s office.
“You plan on suing someone?”
“Bart. I’ve had it, and that yo-yo dumb-assed lawyer I’ve used in the past hasn’t done diddly-squat. If Bart wants to take me to court, so be it, but the gloves are comin’ off, let me tell you.” She flung herself into a side chair, crossed her legs and scowled. One booted foot bobbed in anger. “He’s the kids’ father for Christ’s sake. What makes him think he can get away with not payin’ me?”
Before Reed could respond, she said, “And then he has the balls to take me to court? What the hell did I do to deserve that jerk? Lowlife, no-damned-good son of a bitch, that’s what he is. How many men do y’all reckon there are in the world? What—three, maybe four billion, and of all of those potential mates, he’s the bastard I picked to have kids with. I should have my head examined.” She shoved a hand through her spiked hair and let the air out of her lungs slowly, as if she were intent on exhaling her anger. A second later, a lot more calmly, she added, “Okay, enough about my so-called personal life. What’s new besides you getting your ass kicked off the Grave Robber case?”
“Grave Robber? So you’ve seen the Sentinel.” It was a statement. The entire town, or, for that matter, county, had probably read the article on the front page. He reached into his desk drawer for his roll of antacids and popped a couple.
“Nikki Gillette at her finest.” Morrisette scowled. “God, I hate the press.”
Reed didn’t comment. His views on the fourth estate were well documented. As for Nikki Gillette, she was something else altogether. Had she not been a reporter, he might have found her attractive. Built like an athlete, with a tight ass, small breasts and lean legs, she was bullheaded and determined. Never mind that he’d noticed she had pale green eyes and eyebrows that could arch cynically in a heartbeat.
“How’d she get her information?”
“You were mentioned.”
He snorted. “There’s a leak in the department.”
“Are you kidding? This office is a veritable sieve. Where’s McFee?”
“Don’t know. I’m not on the case anymore.”
Morrisette cracked her first smile of the morning. “My ass. You’re not officially on the case, but that’s not gonna stop you.”
“Sure it is,” he deadpanned. “I go strictly by the book.”
“Save me.” She twisted in her chair and kicked the door closed. As it slammed shut, Morrisette became dead serious. “Barbara Marx was pregnant. Was the kid yours?”
His chest tightened. He looked away. “Don’t know.”
“But it could’ve been.”
“Yeah.” A muscle worked in his jaw. He didn’t want to think about it.
“Jesus H. Christ, Reed, what were you thinkin’? In today’s world? You didn’t use a condom?”
He didn’t answer, just glanced out the window where morning light was filtering through the dirty panes and pigeons were roosting on the sill.
“Men!” She sighed audibly and jabbed at her hair with her fingers. “Damn, I could use a cigarette.”
You and me both.
“Okay, okay, so you don’t need a lecture.”
“That’s right. I don’t.”
She shook her head. “Okay, so what do you want me to do?” Suddenly she was all business again. Composed. Her little jaw set, her mouth a line of determination.
He was two steps ahead of her. They were an odd team. There had been bets by some of the other detectives about how long their pairing would last. Odds were against it. But so far, it had worked. “You’ll need to handle the official stuff. Requests that require signatures. Phone calls to and from the department. That sort of thing.”