Jamie Hill Triple Threat (71 page)

"Jealousy rears its ugly head." He grinned at her as he got out.

"Yeah, whatever." She rolled her eyes and they looked in the window as they passed by. "I see a cat."

"Great." Nate knocked loudly once, then called, "FBI."

There was no response. He opened the tattered screen door and tried the doorknob. "Locked," he said without much surprise. "Damn, this is going to hurt." He butted a shoulder firmly against the door and the wood splintered. The door swung open.

"Ouch!" Mel made a face. She stepped into the house and made another. The stench overwhelmed her. "Oh God. More than one cat."

"Hope that's just cat we smell," he muttered. He flipped a switch and at least three animals scattered when the light hit them.

Mel glanced around the cluttered room. It appeared normal enough, with a sofa, recliner and a TV. Dirty dishes on the coffee table provided their own aroma. She walked through to the kitchen, where more dishes sat out unattended. She held her nose and pointed to an overflowing litter box in the corner.

"Nice," Nate said, voice thick with sarcasm. He turned and went in the other direction, toward the bedrooms.

Mel followed, again noticing how unremarkable the place looked if it was indeed the home of a killer. One bedroom seemed to be used for an office and storage area. There was a big old computer on the desk, and the bed was piled high with boxes of one kind or another. She lifted one. "Coffeemaker, empty. DVD player, set of dishes. All empty. Guess he doesn't like to throw things away."

"Hoarder. But with the bed this full, he wasn't using it for much besides storage."

"True that." She headed down the hall pausing only briefly to peer into the small bathroom. Another litter box in another filthy corner. "Not going in there. Gross."

Nate chuckled. "We'll leave that for CSIs. I'm anxious to check out his room."

"There's no place else." Mel looked around. "No basement that I can see."

"Yeah, I noticed." He entered the bigger bedroom at the end of the hall and flipped on the light. The bed was unmade, but it looked like any other bachelor's room might.

A large double closet lined the far wall. Mel opened the first set of doors. Masters’ clothes, some still in dry-cleaner plastic bags, hung neatly inside. She moved to the second set of doors and pulled them open. A red cheerleader's uniform was the first thing she spotted. "Here we go."

Nate stepped up behind her. "Jackpot." He skimmed through about twenty different outfits: nurse, French maid, cowgirl. There was just the one cheerleader. A low shelf held some sex toys, blindfolds and ball-gags. "Kinky son-of-a-bitch."

"Yeah, but…." Mel screwed up her face in thought. "Not
that
kinky, you know? I'll bet half the couples in
Wichita
have some of this stuff in their bedroom. I don't see any knives or cutting instruments of any kind."

Nate squatted and studied the items on the shelf for a moment. He glanced up at her. "You got any of this stuff in your arsenal?"

She grinned. "I'll never tell. Not on the second date, anyway. Something else is bugging me. Look at these outfits. They're costumes, like you might buy for Halloween, or at a novelty shop. See how cheaply they're made?" She fingered the cheerleader uniform gently. "This is nothing like our victims were found in. Those were legitimate, old-time uniforms. These are poorly made out of something that looks like gauze."

"I agree. Let's go talk to Prince Charming. We'll send Stone and the CSI team in here. Have them check fingerprints, DNA and do a Luminol test. If anyone was killed here, he couldn't have cleaned it up that well."

A cat rubbed against Mel's leg and she jumped. "Jesus!" She watched the animal leap on the bed and curl up between the pillows. "I'm just not a cat person, I guess. I certainly don't want one sleeping on my bed."

Nate grinned as he walked past her. "Glad I'm not a cat."

She laughed and followed him out. "That makes two of us!"

Mel phoned Stone with instructions while Nate directed the uniformed officers. He drove back to the office and they entered the police department, making their way to the interrogation area on the first floor. "I asked Stone to send Reeder down with some photos," she told Nate. "We'll watch while you question Masters."

Nate slipped his bulletproof vest off and straightened the collar on his shirt. Together they stood in the viewing room watching Masters through a two-way mirror.

Reeder joined them, setting a folder on the table and looking at the suspect. "Slimy little bug. You like him for this?"

"I did," Nate said. "I still think there's something to the connection. But after looking at his house, I'm not sure he's our guy."

"He could have another place," Mel suggested.

Nate nodded. "Have someone check with Shelia or Juicy Fruit. Find out where their stylist took them for playtime after the hair was done."

"Will do." She texted Stone.

Reeder made a face at Nate. "Find out if this is our guy, or we need to keep looking. The brass wants to know."

"So do I." Nate grabbed the folder and left the viewing area. He reappeared in the interrogation room a few seconds later. "Hello, Tony." He took a seat across the table from the nervous man.

Mel and Reeder stepped closer to the mirror so they wouldn't miss anything.

Masters squeaked. "Who are you? What am I doing here? I demand some answers!"

"Of course." Nate flipped a business card onto the table, near the hook to which Master's cuffs were attached. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Nathan Willis of the FBI. We're here to help solve the murders of several local women. All the bodies have been found in your neighborhood, the Oldtown area. Today we discovered another connection. We think you've done the hair of all our victims."

Tony shook his head. "I knew about that girl, Donna. But she's the only one. And that was a coincidence! I've done a lot of women's hair."

"I'm sure. A lot of the working girls, especially. You had an arrangement with them, didn't you Tony?"

His face fell. "They told you. Yes, okay, we traded services. But it was all on the up and up. And they came to me. I never looked any of them up. Ask them, they'll tell you.
They came to me
. They wanted what I could give them."

"I'd like to ask them, but a bunch of them are dead, Tony. So tell me, why did you pick the ones you did? What was special about Donna Leonard, Rhonda Jensen, Linda Mains and Sissy Warsaw?"

A look of confusion crossed the man's face. "Who? What are you talking about?"

"They're the ones you killed, Tony. So what happened? They change their minds about your little role-playing games? Or did the games get out of hand?"

"Killed?
Me? I never!" He laughed nervously but there was no mirth in it. "You got the wrong man, Agent Wills."

"Willis," Nate corrected. "As in 'Whatchu talking 'bout Willis?'"

Masters stared at him blankly.

Nate smiled. "That was funnier in my head. Okay, so we were getting to the part where your games got out of hand. What did you use to kill them, Tony?"

"I told you I didn't kill them! I don't even know them."

Nate grabbed the folder he'd set down. "Maybe this will refresh your memory." One by one, he pulled close up photos of the women out and set them in front of Masters. "Remember Rhonda now? How about Linda? Do you remember Sissy? You said you remembered Donna."

Masters appeared shocked then genuinely revolted. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Don't you dare puke in here." Nate scooped the photos up and put them away. "Shut your eyes and take a breath. Jesus, if you could live in that pigsty of a catshit house, a few gory pictures shouldn't bother you."

Masters' eyes popped open. "Did you hurt my cats? You better not have touched them. I swear I'll sue."

Nate stood. "Your freaking cats are fine. I wish I could say as much about these women."

"I told you, I didn't kill anyone. We had an arrangement. They couldn't afford to pay. I was helping them out."

"Damn, how noble that sounds. You never thought about helping them out by giving them free services? That would have been noble."

The man simply stared at him. "They didn't offer their services for free. Why should I?"

As Nate turned to leave he looked in the two-way mirror. "Good point." He walked out.

Mel looked at the door and when Nate walked through she said, "He seems pretty genuine."

"Pisses me off to say this, but he seems damned genuine," Nate agreed.

"Fuck!" Reeder shouted at no one in particular.

Mel's phone rang. She raised her eyebrows at Nate then turned away to take the call. "Curtis."

"Hey, it's Stone. Coupla things. Skinny Sheila confirmed the address Masters took her to as being his house, so he's got no other secret pad."

"Okay." Mel hoped the other 'thing' was better news.

"Zybowski got fingerprints, there's a ton of them so I'm not sure how much that'll help. Scraped some stuff for DNA. But the big news is, he did a Luminol test and we found not so much as a drop of blood in that smelly house. One suspicious spot about the size of a dime near the litter box. God only knows what that might have been."

"Negative on the Luminol test," she repeated, and saw Nate begin pacing the floor. "Thanks Stone. See you back here."

"You bet."

Mel ended the call and relayed the rest of the information to her boss and Nate.

"Double fuck!" Reeder swore again.

Nate raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Okay, take it easy. There are still things we can do." He looked at Mel. "Get Becker tracing those uniforms. Thrift shops, Salvation Army stores, whatever you got around here. I still like the beauty school connection. I'm going to have my analyst check out everyone else who works there, students included."

His comment triggered Mel's memory. "There was another man at the school today, short with messy hair. Did you see him? He started to come out onto the clinic floor until he spotted us. He retreated right back into the office or wherever it was he came from."

"Yeah, I saw that. I'll mention him." He turned to Reeder. "Can you hold Masters overnight?"

"For what, being a slimeball?"

Nate shrugged. "Surely exchanging sex for hair services is at least a misdemeanor in
Kansas
. You ought to be able to charge him with something."

"We can keep him twenty four hours, then we'll either have to charge him or let him go."

"That works. Let's get busy." Nate grabbed his vest and headed upstairs.

Again, Mel hurried to keep up.

While Nate went straight to the war room, she stopped at her desk and checked for messages. She'd just hung up her phone when Vince Tanner stepped in front of her.

"Hi Mel."

"Oh, hey Tanner," she replied absently.

"Expense reports were due today. When I didn't get yours, I took the liberty of logging on to your computer to download it. I hope you don't mind, but I knew how busy you were."

She stared at him. "You logged on to my computer and downloaded personal information? I'm not sure that's within the scope of your responsibility, Tanner."

"I have clearance and access to everyone's computers, Mel."

"For serious business, sure, or in case of an emergency. I don't believe this was either. I was coming back today. I would have gotten it to you."

He smiled nervously. "Well, now you don't have to. All taken care of."

She frowned, but decided to let it drop. "Don't ever do that again."

"Yes Detective," he said sharply, and as he turned to leave added, "Touchy, touchy."

She thought for a moment about reporting his behavior, and again decided it was best to let it go. Tanner could be an ass, but he probably meant well.

Stone returned and dropped a load of paperwork on his desk. "Long day."

"Long disappointing day," she added.

"Masters isn't our guy."

"I don't think so. We need to get Becker checking thrift shops for those uniforms."

"It's nearly five-thirty."

Mel nodded. "Why don't we pack it in for today? This will all be here waiting for us tomorrow."

"Yes it will." They walked to the war room where Nate and Marshall conferred.

"It's getting late," Mel told them. "We can pick this up again in the morning."

Marshall
grabbed his jacket. "I'll be here. My captain says I'm yours for the duration if you want me."

"We want you," Nate piped up. "We need all the help we can get."

"Good deal. He was on his way out when Becker joined them. "I'm taking off," he told her. "Good work today, Barbie."

Her usually perky expression turned serious and she stepped directly in front of him. "I don't care what you call me behind my back. Well, I do care, but I can't do anything about it. But if you
ever
call me Barbie again to my face, you're going to be glad you had twins your first time around. Because I'll take your balls and twist them so hard…." She squeezed her fingers into a fist.