“The son of a bitch that killed my girlfriend.”
“Martin, I can see it a mile off. Kate was an escort, wasn’t she?”
The man jabbed one finger in his ear and rummaged around, probably while he considered his response. It was a delaying tactic, used to kill time while they invented a believable lie.
But Martin surprised her.
“Yeah, she was.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell the other officers this?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Ella asked, but she knew the answer. Embarrassment, shame, humiliation. Or at least that would be his perception.
“It’s not relevant.”
“Martin, I assure you I’ll keep this to myself. I won’t tell anyone, not even the police officers. But if you want me to catch who did this, I need to know everything. Why did you keep it to yourself?”
Martin bit his lip then wiped his eyes. “Because I don’t want the world to know I let my girlfriend ride other dudes. Okay?”
“I think it’s great you’re okay with it,” Ella said. “I’ve met a few sex workers in my time and they’ve always said how hard it was to find a partner who understood it. If you ask me, Kate was lucky to have you.”
Martin nodded. “Thanks. You promise this won’t get back to anyone? No one knew about Kate’s lifestyle. Not her friends, parents, no one. I was the only one she trusted.”
Ella understood Martin’s hesitation. If the press got hold of this little piece of information, and they surely would if the police were privy to it, then tomorrow’s headlines would be sensationalized to the extreme. Ella could see it now: ESCORT SLAIN, WAS HER LIFESTYLE TO BLAME?
“How did Kate find her clients?”
“A listings website. Elite Divas. It’s the only one she uses.”
“Are her pictures on there?”
“Not for the general public. People have to register and pay for the privilege. It helps her keep things discreet.”
Ella made a mental note of it. With any luck, they might be able to trace Kate’s recent messages, but she knew that most escort listing sites were encrypted. In each case, the killer had also stolen his victims’ phones.
“Did Kate say anything about this client to you? Did she keep you updated?”
Martin shook his head. “Nope. She’d usually text me before a session began and then text me again when it was finished.”
“Did she do that last night?”
Martin pulled his phone out of his pocket and read aloud. “Guy has arrived. He’s super nervous, but not bad looking. Told me he was a leg man, ha! I’ll text you when we’re done sweetie. Love you.”
A leg man. The comment made her despair. She began concocting a psychological profile in her head. The little pieces were coming together.
“What time did she send that?”
“Just after 1am,” Martin said.
“And she never sent a follow-up.”
Martin poured over the screen and shook his head. “No. That’s why I checked on her this morning. She never forgets to message me. Never. I knew something was wrong right away.”
These two clearly had an unbound love for one another. For a moment, Ella forgot about her own troubles and put herself in Martin’s shoes. He’d never recover from this for as long as he lived.
“By the way, her escort name is Rena.” Martin spelled it out. “You promise this won’t go anywhere?”