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Authors: Cameron Dane

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BOOK: Becoming Three
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“We'll see if he shows up before we get too excited,” Cade added without looking up from a stack of papers. “It's not suspicious enough to put a BOLO out for him yet.”

“Where's the boss?” Jace asked.
“With the family again,” Max answered. “They're totally wrecked.”
“And they would be more so if they read this stuff.” Cade lifted the stack of papers in front

of him, his face grim, well beyond the scars. “Thank God we got to that house first.”

Jace and Max both dropped the photos they sifted through and stared at Cade. “What's there?” Jace asked. “Anything useful?”
“It's gonna make this case a whole lot more complicated. There are entries in a folder on Ginger's computer that are very similar to a case I worked on back in Texas.” Cade turned the papers around and pushed them to the center of the table so Jace and Max could see them. “There are lots of abbreviations and shorthand, but from what I can gather, Ginger had a passion for traveling.” Lifting his dark stare, he added, “When I pair these dates with some of the travel entries in those journals we found, it seems Ginger earned the extra money to see the country by hooking.”

Chapter Eight
The deceased worked as a prostitute?

 

Jace ran his hand through his hair and fought a bizarre mix of horror and excitement. If

Ginger led a double life,
and she documented it
, she might lead them right to her killer. “Holy shit,” Max said, voicing Jace's next thought. “Are you sure about that?”

“I think so.” Cade pushed two pieces of paper Jace and Max's way. “See here?” He pointed about halfway down one of the sheets with his pen. “See these lines with initials and numbers?” Jace took in the information Cade pointed out but didn't process its meaning. “And now look here.” Cade circled a passage on the second sheet of paper, a photocopy of a page from one of the journals discovered in Ginger's home.

The passage read,
Woohoo! Last job for a few weeks, can finally take that trip to Nashville I've been planning for so long. I bet the cowboys are sweet there. I can't wait to dance a two-step with one to the sounds of a famous band in one of those honky-tonk bars. Beth doesn't want me to go, but I have to. I think she needs to go out on a few dates of her own. Maybe I'll hint to Heath that she's a great girl and that he could have a lot of fun with her. Heath is starting to get a little too serious anyway, and I'm not ready to settle down and have babies. That's why I like BG so much; he understands we can mix a little business with pleasure. He's cute too. Wish I could say that for all of them…

“See how she refers to the last job for a few weeks and mixing business with pleasure?” Cade said. “So far, I've been able to take a dozen entries mentioning upcoming vacations and match them up with a cluster of lines on the computer file. On the computer file, I think the first number in each line is a date and a time. Then the first series of initials are those of a motel where she's going. Like here, I think all the RSMs are Rest Stop Motel, and CM, Comfort Motel, both off the interstate. Those are the two I can think of right away, but I'd bet these other three sets of initials will match other motels within, say, a twenty-mile radius of town.”

“QI,” Max said. “That's Quality Inn, south of here.”

Cade looked up and nodded. “Okay, good. Here's why I'm thinking what I'm thinking. If my idea that these first numbers are dates is correct, then this group of ten lines on the computer file takes place just before that journal entry about going to Nashville. Then the next cluster of numbers and initials doesn't start up again for two weeks, which also matches what she wrote about taking a break. That repeats time and again. Now, my theory is the second initials are those of her johns' names; then there are some initials I haven't broken down yet, but I'm thinking have to do with what the guy wants sexually, and then the last number is what she gets paid for the date.” Darkness edged Cade's voice. “This is a customer log. I bet if we go through this list and match the recent dates with motels, and get lucky enough to acquire surveillance from these motels on the nights she worked, then we might just identify her clients. When we do, we're going to open up a shit storm that has the potential to destroy a lot of lives.”

Jace closed his eyes for a moment and breathed, searching for calm within. Christ. If possible, they needed to contain this. Jace remembered his warning to Jasper that nobody was entirely what he or she appeared. He couldn't help wondering the things people would whisper about him were someone to cut his life down and bring it to a tragic end that required investigation. Did anything exist in his home that would tip off a sharp guy like Cade to Davis and Alanna?

No. That's long over. Nobody except the two of them ever knew.

You contacted them the first time through e-mail, the cop in Jace's head reminded him. It was a long time ago, but the impression could still live in the memory of his computer.
“Jace?” Max touched his arm. “Are you all right?”
Jace nodded and kept a bland expression, although his muscles screamed with the desire to get up and move. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said. “We need to get the boss here to decide how to proceed with this, ASAP.”
“Give me the other initials for the motels”—Max jotted three more pairs of letters on a scrap of paper—“and I'll get on the computer to see what I can find. Shouldn't take me more than a few minutes to figure out matches to local places. Then we make a list of dates and get cracking talking to managers as soon as the sheriff gives us the okay.” She stood and moved to the door. “Be right back.”
After Max left, Cade continued to study Jace. Closely. “Are you really all right?”
Opening his mouth to proclaim exhaustion, Jace spewed something else entirely. “I want something I can't have.”
Like a shot of whiskey and a beer. Or more, my fiery yet innocent roommate and her upstanding, sexy boyfriend
. Jace shook his head, trying to disperse the demons. “But I'll figure out how to live without it. Let's just focus on this case.” He stared at the brutal photos and shoved sobriety down his throat. “I want this bastard caught.”
“I hear you.” Cade returned to Ginger's log list and started taking some notes. “This has the potential to turn into an even uglier case than we originally thought. Carson and Juan are over at Ginger's day job right now, talking with ownership. We'll spend the day tomorrow interviewing her coworkers.” The service center had a very regimented schedule, so none of the people working the weekend had ever worked with the victim during the week. Rubbing his fingers over his scars, Cade spoke without looking up from his work. “A lot of people are employed by that service center. God knows how many Ginger had everyday contact with, or who among them might be a client or even just another boyfriend.”
“This Beth person would be a place to start,” Jace said. “We should be able to identify her easily enough through the employer.” He mentally tracked through the information the sheriff had returned from the family with last night. “I'm surprised her parents and sister didn't know anything about Beth, considering how often she mentions the woman in her journals. Jasper said he thought Ginger was very close to her family. It's one thing to hide selling yourself; that makes sense. But why never speak about a friend?”
“Hopefully we'll find out soon enough,” Cade answered. “Carson knows to ask about her. I want to talk to her. Today, if possible.” He paused, his lip pulling down where one of his scars cut across the edge. “That's assuming Beth is still in town and didn't do the deed herself, or have a part in it. Maybe she was jealous of her best friend's boyfriends and travels.” Cade threw the information out there, although they had already briefly discussed that it seemed highly unlikely a lone female would possess the strength needed to create that crime scene.
“If we're able to talk to her,” Jace said, “we'll see it in her soon enough.”
Cade gave a small nod. “It's a path to follow, but for some reason my gut isn't feeling jealousy or revenge as motives for this crime.”
“Me either.” Jace flipped through the photocopied pages of Ginger's journal, skimming through to the passages highlighting her travels. “Might be worth making some calls to these cities she visited and seeing if the locals have anything in their case files that match our crime scene.” Jace unearthed his pen and jotted down Nashville, to start. “Our girl might have picked up a fan who followed her home.”
“Good thought.”
Jace worked his way backward, scanning the most recent entries and going back in Ginger's journal one year. A companionable silence reigned, with only the sounds of rustling and pens scratching on paper.
The list of cities grew, and Jace whistled. “Man, this is quite an itinerary. Los Angeles, Aspen, Boston, Austin, New York City, Sonoma, Nashville, Las Vegas. She had weekend getaways better than every other month.”
“I know.” Cade stopped working and gave Jace his full attention. “Could you afford that? Even without having a mortgage payment like she had?”
Shit, Jace wanted to redo the kitchen and bathroom for Sarah but could never find enough extra to set aside for such a large renovation. “Nope.”
He and Cade shared a knowing look.
“She had a second line of income,” Cade said.
Jace pushed aside the crime-scene photos and unearthed the ones her family had given to the sheriff last night. A pretty girl with a big smile and light shining in her pure blue eyes stared up at him. “Might be something other than selling herself.” Goddamn, Jace didn't want Ginger's parents and teenage sister finding out about a secret life that would forever change how they viewed her. Not if he could help it. Fuck. Ginger had a younger brother too. “We should be careful how we explore this.”
“Absolutely,” Cade said. “We have to find out, though.” He held Jace's gaze in the dark hold of his. “I don't want to trash this young woman's life any more than you do, but we also can't turn a blind eye to the truth.”
“I'll face it. I just want some evidence to back up our theory first.”
Max popped her head into the office. “Forensics is on the phone waiting to talk to us. The boss just got in. Let's go.”
After getting up, Jace paused as Cade locked the war room door, and then together they walked to the sheriff's office. As they entered, they each nodded at Duke. Cade took up a stance against a low file cabinet, and Jace sat down in the second visitor chair in front of Duke's desk, next to Max.
Duke pressed a button on his phone and said, “Okay, Robyn, we're all here. Give us what you have so far.”
“We are swamped here, guys.” Robyn's familiar voice filled the room. “I'm going to make this quick. Please listen up. Your vic had her neck snapped, and it severed her spine. A clean break, not easy to do. The body was kept on ice before your perp attached her to that tree. Light frostbite burned her back, buttocks, and down her legs. I have to wait for toxicology, but all her organs look good, her nasal cavity was intact, and her arms and inner thighs were free of needle scars, so I'd say she was probably clean. We estimate the TOD somewhere between ten p.m. and three a.m. I can tell you the nails used were industrial-grade stainless steel, smooth common grade, sixty-penny or six-inch length. Very easy to find. Her vaginal and anal canals were still intact, and my guy could see none of the traditional signs of sexual assault. We did swabs and will let you know if foreign DNA shows up. He does confirm defensive wounds, but she didn't have any skin tags or blood left under the remaining fingernails. We turned up two partial prints on the body, and we'll run them through the various databases. If we get a hit, I'll let you know. So far, that's what I have for you.”
“All right.” Duke rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Thank your people for working this victim into the rotation so quickly. I appreciate it.”
“Let's hope the info can help.” A curse came through the phone, and then a muted “I'm coming!” Robyn's voice returned to normal volume, and she said, “Listen. I'm getting waves for my attention from three people. I have to go.”
“Good luck with your quad case.” Duke spoke for the group. “I'll be in touch.”
“Right. Bye.” Robyn hung up, and Duke pushed a button on his phone, ending the buzzing noise of the open line.
“A cleanly snapped neck,” Jace said, thinking aloud. “Someone with military training maybe?”
“It's something to look for in the history of any possible suspect,” Duke answered. “We don't rule out anything.”
“Understood.”
A knock sounded at the door. After Duke called out, “Come in,” Carson and Juan entered the office.
“Good news.” Carson looked like a jumping bean about ready to burst out of its shell. “We know who Beth is and where she lives.”
Everyone in the room suddenly sat up straight, exhaustion gone from their collective postures.
Jace shifted back to Duke as the man said, “All right, everybody. Get me up to speed so we can figure out who needs to be doing what.”
Carson and Juan grabbed some wall space, and everyone exchanged evidence, facts, and theories.
Prostitution included.

* * * *

“Thank you.” Jasper accepted his change from the clerk and put it in the front pocket of his jeans. He grabbed his bag off the counter and gave a little wave. “You have a nice day.”
The older woman at the register winked at him. “You too, honey. Bye.” She shifted her attention to the next person in line, and Jasper walked out of the bookstore.
Next, he popped into the local card shop, had the young girl there help him pick out a gift bag, and waited while she put his book purchase in the bag, stuffed it with the tissue, and made his present for Sarah look nice. After thanking her, Jasper left the store and peeked into storefront windows as he made his way back to the lot where he parked his truck.
Not in any particular hurry, Jasper took his time and tried to enjoy the pretty afternoon. Sarah had called him, as promised, so he knew she was all right and that she wouldn't be home for at least another hour. He appreciated that she gave him the respect of the phone call, even if he didn't like her hanging out with that too-cool dude. Jasper knew he wouldn't much like it if she were to tell him who his friends could and couldn't be, though, so he understood he didn't rightly have a leg to stand on with the reverse.
Chuckling, Jasper shook his head, smiling as he turned and weaved his way through lines of parked cars to get to his truck. In so many ways, Sarah had him feeling like a jealous kid who didn't want to share his favorite thing in the world, but at the same time, being around her, he'd learned how to stop and think before he spoke or acted on his first gut impulses. God willing, he would never do something as stupid as slashing someone's tires again.
He had a good life now, something worth a damn to him.
Someone
worth something to him.
Sarah.
Shoot, he hoped to surprise her with the book he just bought her. It was one of them big coffee-table deals with a ton of modern art pictures, sculptures, and other kinds of art stuff that Jasper didn't understand one damn bit. Sarah wanted it, though, but said she couldn't justify spending the money right now. She had looked at it wistfully one day while they were out shopping, and Jasper hadn't forgotten about it.
She was really gonna love it.
I wonder what Jace would love?
Jasper pulled up short at his truck, his heart suddenly squeezing in nearly the same way as when he thought about Sarah. Another thought followed, tugging at Jasper's core.
I want Jace to smile…for me.
“Well don't you just look like a pig in shit.” A voice Jasper never thought he'd hear again sounded behind him. “I guess I don't have to ask how you're doing, little brother.”
Jasper spun around.
Holy mother of God
. It couldn't be. “Samuel,” Jasper uttered, recognizing his brother even after nearly eight years without contact. Samuel stood at roughly the same height as Jasper, but he had wider, thicker shoulders, with a rounded stomach and ruddy face that bespoke of his apparent continued love affair with beer. His blond hair hung halfway down his back, and hazel eyes that were a mirror of Jasper's pierced him with cold.
His blood flooding with adrenaline, Jasper fought revealing evidence of his immediate fear. “Wh-what are you doin' here?”
“What?” Samuel opened his arms wide. “No hug for your only family? I'm hurt.”
Jasper struggled to keep his breathing even and his body from shaking. “Why aren't you in prison?”
Samuel cocked his head and leaned his hip against the front of Jasper's truck, looking like he planned to stay awhile. “For what?”
Heat consumed Jasper, burning off his case of nerves. “I know you raped someone. They had DNA proof. I know, because you almost ruined my life when it turned up.” Samuel's DNA had linked Jasper as a sibling, and that had led to law enforcement accusing him of poisoning Willow Stream, due to some cigarette butts left at the crime scene with his DNA on them. Even though Jasper had not poisoned the stream, smoking on Hawkins property was against the rules. That cigarette he'd smoked had brought about Caleb's firing him, and in a tailspin, Jasper slashing Caleb's tires.

BOOK: Becoming Three
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