The manager mopped at his face. "Look, I run a clean establishment. No one turns tricks in here. The working girls know to take the business outside. Some of our regulars are—influential." He shot a worried look at the detective just as Sullivan re-entered. His pudgy face was set and furious.
Got it. Sullivan was one of the regulars. So cops came here.
Probably local political figures. A dank little watering hole where they could get some cheap thrills without worry of being found out, and the sweaty little manager took a kickback to cover for them.
A flick of a look at the female detective confirmed my supposition. She knew and didn't approve, but they were gonna close ranks. If it was an open secret then my unsub figured it out, too. She would have had the perfect opportunity to slip in under the radar while everyone was pointedly minding their own business.
Fuck me. She was brilliant.
Fuck me twice, because I was right. We'd been looking for a man this whole time and she was definitely not that.
"The coroner is here," Sullivan announced and I nodded.
"Hold him on the body until I'm out there." Sullivan grunted, but exited on cue and I glanced at his partner. "Detective...?"
"Tivey," she supplied. "Kathryn Tivey."
"What are the chances we can question some of the regulars about what they saw or remember?"
We both ignored the manager who'd probably pissed his pants by now, thinking we were gonna head out and interrogate his clientele. The false smile she pasted on was an answer all its own even as she gave me the barest of head shakes. "We'd have to track them down and it's cash only that early in the day."
Of course it was. The manager sagged with relief.
"Understood." I let her off the hook cause as much as I wanted the answers, it would be a waste of time and resources—me—to stick around and try to pick their brains. Besides, she wouldn't be back. Her target was dead.
But the 'how' still baffled me some. I took a moment to send a copy of the video of the exit to myself and then erased my email and contact information from the guy's computer.
"Guess we better see what the coroner has to say." I motioned to the door for her to take the lead and she nodded. As soon as she was out, I glanced at the manager. "Wipe those tapes."
"I intend to," he said before I'd even finished the sentence then blanched. "Uhh..."
"This conversation never happened."
6
Merrick
Ifinished wiping down the counter to clean up my mess. I never really had a talent to foster a career out of, but I knew my way around the kitchen. Not surprisingly, it gave me quite a bit of joy to take care of Vienna.
Balancing the plate of fluffy Japanese pancakes on one hand, with an assortment of cut fruit and powdered sugar decorating the plate, I snagged the glass of orange juice in the other. I whistled the entire climb up the stairs, anticipation pumping up my heart rate.
She was going to love these. She hadn’t really eaten anything super sweet, but who didn’t like fancy pancakes? They just increased a person’s joy in life, and what was life without focusing on the little things? That was probably one of my most important lessons I’d learned from therapy when I was younger.
The little things that could make you happy were worth their weight in gold.
Vienna deserved all the happiness. And I was thrilled to give it to her.
I knocked on her door and waited, making sure my shoulders were back and the dishes were held at stomach level so she could see what I brought for her.
She was kind of tiny. If I held this stuff any higher, she wouldn’t know why I was knocking.
A small mew of a yawn traveled through the wood and then she grumbled, while audibly shuffling to the door. I grinned. She was always so careful and certain in her steps. Sleep must be her relaxed state, and I loved that I knew that about her.
Without making me wait too long, she pulled open the door that was so well oiled on the hinges it was barely a whisper of a sound.
“Merrick? It’s barely after seven.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, even though I could see the startling clarity behind her gaze. No dazed first moments of wakefulness for Vienna.
“I wanted to make sure I had breakfast ready for you when you woke up, but I didn’t want to let the pancakes get cold. They’re kind of like a soufflé and they’ll flatten if they get too cold.” I nudged the plate and glass toward her. “Breakfast in bed, my treat.”