Silenced (10 page)

She’d overstepped big-time. Noah’s fists tightened just once, but for a man who rarely showed his temper, she noticed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “I don’t know where that came from.”

But she did know exactly where her outrage came from: fear. Fear that victims like Nicole Bellows would be forgotten. Panic that more victims would follow and no one would care. That if they couldn’t solve this murder and put the killer in prison, Nicole Bellows would haunt her. Worse, that she couldn’t stop the violence.

Noah didn’t say anything to Lucy. He turned to Genie. “Where’s the message?”

Genie’s expression showed her curiosity over the exchange, but she simply replied, “The bathroom. You can’t miss it.”

Noah walked into the small bathroom first. There wasn’t room for both of them, so Lucy waited. When he came out, he said, “I’ll call my boss.”

He walked out of the motel room without looking at Lucy.

Lucy stepped inside. The stained and bloody pedestal sink had no counter. Inside the cracked basin lay a good-sized rat, dead and gutted. The poor creature’s internal organs had been pulled half out of its body, a bloody mess Lucy could barely identify.

The butchered rat was bad enough. But a message had been written in blood on the aged, cracked mirror.

Six blind mice

See how they run

Then Lucy noticed the rat’s tail had been cut off.

CHAPTER NINE

Lucy ignored the people hanging around outside the motel, though their numbers seemed to have increased during the fifteen minutes they’d inspected room 119.

Noah had stepped away to talk to Slater, and Lucy hoped he wasn’t irrevocably angry.

You shouldn’t have jumped down his throat.

Noah had always been supportive of her career, had stood up for her even when her ideas went against protocol. He cared about victims, but didn’t wear his compassion on his sleeve like she did.

Six blind mice.

Were there six victims? Was Nicole the first? The last? Would there be more to come?

See how they run.

Lucy had studied killers of all stripes in both criminal psychology coursework and on her own. Her life had brought her face-to-face with evil many times: her cousin’s murder when they were seven, her brothers and sister in law enforcement talking bluntly about their jobs, when she was raped at eighteen. Then years of schooling and internships studying crimes and criminals. She had a gift—or a curse—for getting into the heads of both killers and victims.

This killer was taunting someone, but the message didn’t seem to be directed at police. It was almost an internal thought on his part, a private joke.

Six blind mice.

The children’s rhyme only had three mice, so
six
seemed especially important, a signal to law enforcement or a threat. A rat could mean the victim had said something to police. Children’s rhymes were singsong, and in this context seemed taunting. Why cut off the tail?

Lucy played the song in her head.

Three blind mice, three blind mice

See how they run, see how they run

They all ran after the farmer’s wife

Who cut off their tails with a carving knife

Did you ever see such a sight in your life

As three blind mice.

Did the tail have any significance to the killer? Or did he cut off the tail just because of the song? Had he planned to kill the rat, did he bring it with him, or was the act an afterthought? Did he intend to mislead the cops, to cloud the motive?

The scene didn’t feel like a serial killer to Lucy, but she couldn’t articulate why. No rape. No rage. Clean kill, a message. Uncovering
why
Nicole Bellows was killed would lead them directly to the killer, Lucy was certain about that.

The killer didn’t rape his victim. They may have had consensual sex, and Lucy wanted to go to the morgue to get a jump on any potential evidence. Time was always a critical factor in a homicide investigation.

Noah approached Lucy. “Don’t contradict me in public.”

Lucy’s stomach flipped. He was still angry with her. She needed to make this right. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I know you care, I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t.”

“It stung,” he said simply, then moved on. “You told Detective Reid that we can handle the case. It’s not your call.” Noah was stern. “Just remember, I’m the FBI agent, you’re the analyst.”

His words were true, but he’d never been so harsh. He’d always treated her like a partner, not a novice.

“I understand,” she said, hoping she kept the hurt from her tone.

He continued. “You’re going to be liaison between Genie Reid and me. You want this, you got it. If there’s anything that points to a serial murderer, any verified leads, we’ll reassess whether we officially step in. But right now, this is a DC metro case and we’re observing.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Josh Stein wants you off Wendy James, and this is the only way you’re not going to be chained to your desk for the next three weeks. I’m going to talk to Detective Reid and make sure she’s satisfied with this arrangement.”

He strode away and spoke quietly to Genie.

She wished she could take it all back. She didn’t want to work with the DC police, she wanted to work with Noah. She’d already learned so much from him, every day she felt she was better prepared not only to start the Academy, but to be an agent. When they had downtime, he told her what to expect in classes, some of the tricks, how to maneuver through the bureaucracy. Though her sister-in-law was an instructor at Quantico and also helpful, Kate had been a recruit fifteen years ago. A different time, a different program. Noah graduated less than four years ago.

Their friendship had just taken a big hit, and it was her fault. She had to find some way to repair the damage.

Genie and Noah approached. “Welcome aboard,” Genie said. “Agent Armstrong says you’re with me, and I’m glad for the help, even temporary—you’re still deputized, right? He said you’d come from the Arlington Sheriff’s Department?”

She nodded, wishing she knew what Noah had said to Genie about her. “I worked there a year ago, yes.”

“And you worked at the morgue, too? Then you get to head down there and talk to the coroner when we’re done here, because I hate that place and I’m glad to have someone to pass it off on.”

Genie continued. “My guys found a backpack with blood in the trash. We’re comparing it to the vic. Also, the CSU says the door wasn’t forced. The lock was easy to break, and the killer used bolt cutters on the chain. The doors are so weak he could have kicked it in.”

“But that would have made noise,” Lucy said. “If he had to break in, that means he wasn’t a john. He goes in quietly, so as not to wake his victim, closes the door, turns on lights?” She glanced back at room 119’s window, noted that she could almost see through the flimsy curtains. “Probably enough light from outside.”

“Good guess. And the switch by the door is broken. Only the lamp on the nightstand works.”

“So he comes in, grabs the victim off the bed, and kills her.”

“Or she hears something and gets up—” Noah suggested.

“But he’s already inside, grabs her and kills her before she can scream.”

“Either way,” Genie said, “it was fast. He went in with a purpose.”

“He had to have known her.” Lucy frowned, looking over at the room, but not focusing on any detail. “I don’t know.”

“Explain.”

“It’s not random. She was a target.”

“Target?” Noah said. “Interesting choice of words.”

“He meant to kill Nicole Bellows, not just any prostitute.”

“Possible,” Noah said, “but that’s for you to run down.” He glanced at his watch. “Are the managers here? I need to get to a briefing.”

“In the office.” Genie waved her hand in the general direction.

“Any cooler inside?” Lucy asked, pulling her sticky blouse from her skin.

“No.”

Genie was right. The motel lobby’s air-conditioning was no more effective than the motel room’s.

The manager had a small office behind glass. Posted inside the glass was a sign with their rates: $25/hour; $69/night; $249/week. Maid service was an additional $20/day.

Genie motioned for the two managers to come out of the room. “I swear, these two are idiots,” she muttered.

The night manager, Ray, was dark, wiry, and disheveled, with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. The day manager, Buddy, was twice the size, but deferred to Ray.

“Buddy says room one-nineteen got whacked?” Ray said. He stared at Lucy through half-lidded eyes. She resisted the overwhelming urge to look down and make sure her blouse was buttoned.

Genie stepped forward before Noah could say a word. “Who you trying to impress, Ray?
Whacked
. Shit, you’re pissing me off. Took you fucking long enough to get in. Buddy called you
three hours
ago. Probably called you before he called us. Makes me think you have something to hide.”

“Hey, Genie babe, we go way back, no need to get all hostile.”

“You ‘babe’ me again, I’m taking you to jail and losing the paperwork.”

“
Shee
-it, Detective, you got no sense of humor.”

“What I have is a dead girl, I want to know who did it. Do I need to ask for security tapes?”

“Ask, but I don’t have any. You know that.”

“Nice fucking place you run.” Genie said. “When did Nicole Bellows check in?”

“Nicole? She didn’t give me that name. Gave me N. Smith.” He chortled. “But I recognized her.”

“Recently?”

“Naw, last year. I say, ‘Babe, you haven’t been around lately.’ She says, ‘Just give me a room.’ I should have kicked her to the curb, but she had cash, paid for a week, and was willing to wait an hour for me to flip the room.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“I asked how she been, how she doin’, what can she do for me, you know—” He grinned.

Noah cleared his throat. “When did she come in?”

“Yesterday. Early, like six
A.M.
It had been a busy night, most of the rooms were still occupied. So they had to wait.”

“They?” Noah said.

“N. Smith and her sister.” He snorted. “Hardly. Nicole is a foxy black bitch with—” He cut himself off when Noah’s jaw tightened. The tension was hotter than the temperature.

“Her sister was white as a ghost. Pretty, I guess, if you like your girls young and scrawny.”

“How young?” Lucy asked. Two girls but only one victim. She feared what might have happened to the younger girl.

“Teen. Maybe eighteen.”

“Really?” Genie said.

Ray shrugged.

“Don’t fuck around, tell me how old you think she was. I’m not going to arrest you for screwing her, but I will arrest you for obstruction of justice and being an asshole.”

“
Maybe
sixteen. I didn’t screw her. Didn’t say a word. She followed Nicole around like a puppy.”

“Describe her,” Noah said.

“White. Dark brown hair down to her shoulders. About yea high.” He put his hand to his chin. He wasn’t five and a half feet, which put the girl at just about five feet. “And like I said, scrawny. I don’t think she was ninety pounds wet.”

“Did you get a name?” Genie asked.

“Barely saw her.”

Noah asked, “Did you see them after they checked in yesterday?”

“Not the white chick. The babe—um, Nicole—came and went a couple times. Brought in food.”

Buddy interrupted for the first time. “I—I—I saw the girl. Yesterday, when I was flipping a room. She was waiting outside room one-nineteen, then the black girl came out and they left.”

“On foot?”

“Yeah. They didn’t have a car. Not that I saw.”

“What time was that?” Noah asked.

“Um, four maybe?”

“Four in the afternoon?”

“Yeah. Maybe a little earlier.”

“Did you see anyone going in or out of their room? Anyone lurking in the parking lot?”

“Nope,” Ray said. “It’s been quiet until now.”

They walked outside. Genie said, “I got my team canvassing the businesses on the street to see who has security cams that actually work. Plus, the gas station on the corner—the owner of the chain is a good guy, he has decent security. Might not know what we’re looking at, but if we get a suspect, maybe we can put him in the vicinity.”

Genie continued. “What do you think about the second girl?”

“There were no signs of a second person. Maybe she was gone when the killer came in. Maybe she returned and bolted when she saw her friend.”

“Maybe she set her up,” Genie said.

“A sixteen-year-old ninety-pound kid?” Lucy said.

“I’ve seen stranger things.”

“Or the killer could have taken her,” Lucy added.

“We don’t have any evidence that he did.”

“And we don’t have evidence that he didn’t.” The whole scene felt unreal to Lucy. They couldn’t discount the fact that there had been two young women in the room, but only evidence that one had been killed. “Either way, we have an unknown minor in danger. We need to find her.”

“Either she wasn’t there, she was an accomplice, or she’s been kidnapped,” Noah said. “You’ll have access to our lab and database, Lucy can expedite the paperwork. I need to go. You good here?”

Lucy nodded. “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything, only gave her an odd look, then left.

“Ouch,” Genie said.

“I’m so sorry you had to witness that.”

“I admire your drive. He’ll get over it, he respects you.”

“Not anymore.” And that is what really hurt. Lucy didn’t want to lose Noah’s friendship.

“He does. He thought he had to do a hard sell to get me to work with you, but you had me sold before we walked out of the motel room. It’s not like you’re an untrained crime writer on a perpetual ride-along.” She laughed. “Damn, I love that television show, even if they get procedure all wrong.”

Lucy smiled. She had no idea what Genie was talking about because she didn’t watch television.