CHAPTER SIX
“NO, JINX ISN’T HERE.” The guy behind the counter—a tall, thin man with sleeve tats and a dragon that circled his neck—frowned as he stared at Tucker. “We got plenty of other artists in the back, though, if you’re looking to get inked.”
He wasn’t looking, not at the moment. Tucker pulled out his ID. “I need to ask Jinx some questions and I was told her shift started at noon.”
The guy’s expression immediately became shuttered when he saw the badge. “Look, I get that Jinx had trouble with the law a long time ago. She told me all about that, and I hired her because I believe in her. This is the first time in a year that she hasn’t shown up like she was scheduled. Jinx is a good—”
“She didn’t show up for work today?”
The man glowered. “Didn’t I say she wasn’t here already?”
“Did she call to say where she was?” The first time in a year. That wasn’t a good sign.
“She didn’t call.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “But she’s probably just sick. Like I was saying, she’s a good tattoo artist. The best I’ve seen in this town. I don’t want the law hassling her.”
He needed to play this better. So he switched gears. “I know a friend of hers, okay?”
“What’s that friend’s name?” Suspicion was heavy on the man’s face.
“Dawn Alexander.” The name would probably mean nothing—
A wide smile broke across the guy’s face. “Should have started with that.” He shoved aside Tucker’s ID and offered his hand for a shake. “I’m Malone Blade. I own this shop.” He pumped Tucker’s hand. “Dawn... How’s she doing?” He cocked a brow. “Still loving those tats?”
Dawn has tats? He kept his face expressionless. “Absolutely.”
Malone nodded. “Jinx did a great job on them. When you’re dealing with scars, you always have to be extra careful. Covering them can be a tricky business.”
A lump rose in Tucker’s throat, but he swallowed it back.
“Covering scars, though, that’s a specialty with Jinx. She can turn something that was an ugly reminder into something beautiful.” Malone gave a low whistle. “I swear, those roses look real on Dawn. The detail that Jinx did with the petals is truly amazing. Got to give my girl props. She is one talented woman.”
And she was also a woman who wasn’t there. “Any idea where I can find her?”
Malone sighed. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Like I told you already, she’s not usually late like this.”
“You tried calling her?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. But I just got her voice mail.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not the kind of boss who keeps twenty-four-seven tabs on his employees, you know?” But there was still an edge of worry in his eyes. “Why did you need to ask her those questions?” He put his hands on the counter once more. “Did something happen to Dawn?”
“Dawn is fine.”
A relieved sigh slid from Malone. “Good. Because I owe that woman and getting Jinx to tat her...hell, that isn’t payback. Not even close to payback.”
He owed Dawn?
Malone reached behind him and pulled a framed photo off the wall. In the photo, he had his arm around the shoulders of a young, redheaded girl. “My baby, Melanie.” He swallowed. “She got involved with drugs. I told her to stay away from that lifestyle, but she got hooked and then she ran away. The cops couldn’t find her. Hell, I don’t think they even tried. Another junkie on the street. Not exactly high priority for them.”
Tucker tilted his head as he listened.
“Dawn took my case. She found my girl within the week. And twenty-four hours after that, Dawn and I had Melanie in rehab.” He smiled as he stared down at the photo. “She’s at Tulane now—going to be a lawyer. Turned her whole damn life around.” Carefully, he put the framed photo back up on the wall. “The tats were supposed to be part of my thank-you to Dawn, but she and Jinx, they got to talking...and the next thing I know, Dawn found a place for Jinx to live.”
She moved Jinx into her building.
“She’s a fixer,” Malone murmured. “You tell Dawn your problems, and she makes them go away.”
But no one makes her problems vanish.
“I owe her,” Malone said again. “So if there is trouble, I want to know about it.”
Tucker slid his card to the other man. “Like I said, Dawn is okay right now.” And I’m not going to let that change. “When Jinx comes in, get her to call me.”
Malone nodded.
Tucker left the shop, but unease nagged at him. They had a copycat working in the city. And at the exact same time the bastard started hunting, Jinx Donahue had her first ever unexplained absence from work in a year?
Maybe she’d pulled an all-nighter. It was the weekend, after all. Maybe she’d stayed up late partying, but...
She didn’t answer her door.
And Tucker didn’t like coincidences.
If someone had been sneaking into Dawn’s place, if the guy had come into her building and Jinx saw him...then the tattoo artist could be a person their perp wanted to eliminate.
She could be a target.
As he walked out on the street, his phone rang, vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Macey’s name on the screen. He swiped his finger across the screen and put the phone to his ear. “What have you got?”
“We know who our victim is.”
Hell, yes.
“Her name is Heather Hartley, she’s a twenty-one-year-old former student at Louisiana State University.”
His heart rate sped up.
“We used her dental records to track her.” Macey was speaking quickly. He could hear the murmur of voices in the background. “The woman had no police record. From what I can tell, she never had any trouble with the law. Not so much as a speeding ticket.”
“Why wasn’t she reported missing?” He walked quickly down the street.
“Her parents are both dead. She was failing her classes at LSU, so she dropped out last fall. Her friends thought she just went somewhere to start new. They had no idea...”
That she’d become a victim.
“She grew up in Baton Rouge,” she continued, and now her speech sounded more...measured. “Even went to Rondale High School.”
He stopped walking. “I went to that school.” He’d gone there. Jason had gone there. Dawn had gone there. “Shit. She’s not some random victim.” No, she was a deliberate message. “We need to see if she has any links to Jason Frost. Because maybe she—”
“She is linked to him.”
The heat was blistering.
“Her cousin was the first victim of the Iceman.”
They had a big fucking problem on their hands. “Call Samantha and let her know what you’ve found. I need to get to Dawn. She thinks someone has been stalking her, and I damn well believe she’s right.” A killer was playing a very deadly game with her.
He heard Macey’s quick inhale.
“If this guy is targeting victims related to the Iceman, then Dawn is going to be his big prize. He’ll go after her.” No doubt in Tucker’s mind.
“There’s something else...”
He crossed the street and jumped into his rented SUV.
“Heather’s wounds were all made with a knife that matched up exactly to the weapon that Jason Frost used. The cuts were all exact duplicates of the ones he inflicted on his victims.”
Duplicates. Because that was what a copycat did. He duplicated.
“This guy knows the Iceman, inside and out.” He cranked the SUV and transferred the call over to the Bluetooth system. “He’s going to want to finish what Jason Frost started.”
He’ll want to kill Dawn.
Not happening. “Dawn needs to be under protective custody.” She needed to be a million miles away from the city. “I’m getting her now.”
* * *
DAWN STARED AT the line of yellow police tape. That small, plastic line was supposed to keep the perimeter safe from intrusion.
There wasn’t even a cop stationed there to keep prying eyes away. And that little bit of tape? It certainly wasn’t going to keep Dawn out. She headed toward the warehouse, her gaze scanning the perimeter. There were no other cars there, no sign that anyone else was nearby. She could smell the river and the sun beamed down from overhead. Dawn slipped on gloves—she always did that when she went to investigate a scene.
Don’t ever leave a trace behind. Especially if you’re doing something not exactly legal. Advice she’d learned from Roth. Roth’s Rules to Spy By. That was what he’d called them. Never leave a trace because you don’t want to give the cops any reason to come down on you.
She didn’t go to the front entrance. She slipped around the building and, yes, not surprisingly, she found a broken window. Dawn slipped inside.
The building smelled musty. Light shone in through all of the windows, so she could see easily as she searched the area. The police had certainly left signs that they’d been there. Evidence tags. More tape and—
She heard a rustle behind her. Dawn didn’t hesitate. She yanked her weapon from her bag and spun around, her grip dead steady. “Freeze!” Dawn yelled.
And the rustle stopped. She saw a man standing in the shadows, his shoulders hunched, his chin pressing to his chest. “I...I don’t want no trouble...”
“Then you shouldn’t sneak up on a woman.” Her heart drummed frantically in her chest but her grip never wavered. Getting a concealed carry permit had been one of the first things she’d done when she got her PI license. No way was she going to walk around without a weapon.
He shuffled back. “Y-you’re in my h-home.”
Goose bumps rose on her arms as she studied him. Older, maybe nearing seventy, with a long, grizzled beard. There were dirt smudges on his cheeks and his clothes were mismatched. He wore one flip-flop and one sneaker. His jeans were held up thanks to a heavy rope around his waist and his dress shirt had been tucked in to try to keep the jeans in place.
“Sorry,” she murmured but didn’t lower her gun. “I’m a PI. I was investigating the crime that took place here.” My home.
He took another shuffling step back. If possible, his shoulders hunched even more.
“How long has this been your home?”
He licked his lips. “Don’t...don’t really know.” He lifted up his thin wrist. “Don’t have a...a watch, you know?”
She considered him a moment. “You knew the building had electricity, didn’t you?”
His gaze cut away from her. “Maybe... I saw a light one night.”
And he’d come in from the dark.
“What else did you see?”
His lips had clamped together. “Didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Empty building... No one was usin’ it.”
“Someone was. Someone killed a woman here. And they kept her body in a freezer.” When he didn’t speak, she added, “If it were my home, I’d be aware of what was happening inside. If I saw a freezer, I’d look in it, thinking maybe there was some food in there.”
She could hear the rasp of his breath.
Her phone began to ring, vibrating in her pocket. She ignored it. She wasn’t about to take her attention off the man in front of her. “What’s your name?”
“Red.”
She could see that part of his gray beard contained the faintest streaks of red. Maybe once upon a time, he’d gotten that nickname. Or maybe it was his given name. She wasn’t going to push on that just yet. “Red, did you see a freezer here?”
He gave a quick, nervous nod.
Her phone stopped vibrating.
“And did you look inside it?”
His hands came up from behind his back.
“Stop!” she yelled, thinking he was pulling a weapon, but...he was just showing her the gloves he had cradled in his hands. Expensive gloves from the look of them. Leather?
“Left these...” he murmured. “Saw him put them behind the wall. I...I never touched them before t-today...was scared...”
The killer had left those gloves?
“Didn’t want police to take ’em...” His jaw jutted out. “I can use them m-more...”
So he’d taken the hidden gloves. Dawn licked her lips. “Did you see anything else?”
His shoulders dropped. “I was...hungry.”
He was skeletally thin, so she was sure that he had many hungry nights. Pity twisted through her. “When you looked in the freezer, you saw her, didn’t you?”
“Frozen lady. Blue, icy.” He lifted his gloved hands and pressed them to his eyes.
She stepped toward him. “Why didn’t you call the cops?”
“My home!” Now he sounded angry. “They would have t-taken me from my home! I didn’t hurt her! Never hurt anyone.”
So he’d stayed there, with the dead woman...for how long? “Did you see the man who hurt her? The man who left those gloves?”
Red licked his lips. “He...visited.”
Her goose bumps got worse. She needed to get Tucker down there. Needed Anthony to hear this guy’s story.
Her phone vibrated again.
“Did you see him when he visited?”
“H-hid.” His head lowered. “Didn’t want to get...f-frozen.”
Those words made her heart hurt. “Red, may I buy those gloves from you?” Because there might be evidence on them. Especially if Red was telling her the truth and this was the first time he’d gotten them from their hiding space. “It’s warm outside. You don’t really need them now, anyway.”
He frowned at her.
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks for them.”
He dropped the gloves on the floor.
“Great.” Wonderful. She pulled the money out of her bag and offered it to him. He inched forward, his gaze darting to the weapon she hadn’t put up, not yet. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she promised. She lowered the gun.
He reached out his hand. She put the money on his palm and then—
He snatched the bills and ran.
“Red!” She chased after him, but that guy was fast. He shot through the building, zigging and zagging. He knew the building, she didn’t, and she was getting lost in the tangle of rooms. Like being in a maze. She stumbled after him, doing her best to follow his pounding footsteps, but then he was bursting out the front door. She yelled after him, but Red wasn’t stopping. He tore through the yellow tape and kept going.
And her phone was still ringing. She yanked the phone from her pocket, not even stopping to see who was calling. “What?” She scampered down the steps, her gaze jerking to the left and to the right.
There was a pause and then... “Dawn?”
Tucker. She swallowed and edged toward the little gap between two buildings. Too small to be called a real alley. “I could use some backup,” she told him. “It would really be appreciated right now.” Because there was too much ground to cover. Red had her at a disadvantage. He would know all the hiding spaces around that area. All the quick exits. And she was just following blindly.
“What? Where are you?”
“I’m at the warehouse. The scene of our Jane Doe’s imprisonment. And a witness just gave me the slip.”
* * *
“HOW DID YOUR team miss the witness?”
Tucker was pissed. Dawn thought that was pretty evident to everyone gathered at the warehouse. When she’d said she wanted backup, Dawn hadn’t quite realized just how big her cavalry would be.
Tucker had arrived. Macey had arrived. Anthony had come running, along with his partner, Detective Ronald Torez. The group was assembled in front of the now-ripped line of police tape, and Tucker’s low, cutting voice contained more than enough fury to torch New Orleans.
“I don’t know,” Anthony growled back. His eyes were covered by a pair of mirrored sunglasses. “But you can bet I’ll be finding out. Uniforms cased the scene. They should have found our guy.”
“Not if Red didn’t want to be found,” Dawn said. Maybe he’d felt intimidated by all of the uniforms and he’d hidden from them. But when it had just been her there...he came out to play.
Anthony’s lips thinned. “The guy was really living here the whole damn time that woman was in the freezer?”
“She has a name,” Macey spoke up. “Heather Hartley.” Her gaze cut to Dawn. “We ID’d her. Heather was only twenty-one. Former LSU student. A girl who went to the same high school you did.”
And I was twenty-one when Jason took me. Even though she was sweating under the hot heat of the sun, the breath that Dawn took seemed to chill her lungs. “Red gave me the guy’s gloves.”
Gloves that had already been bagged and tagged by Macey.
“Maybe there is some DNA evidence on them. Something we can use. Red said they’d been hidden the whole time.”
“I’ll get the FBI’s team to check them,” Macey said.
“But—” Anthony began, his cheeks red.
“Our team is faster.” Macey wasn’t mincing words. “We can let the NOPD handle it and get caught in your backlog or I can contact my boss, Samantha Dark, and she will give this evidence priority. We’ll have results faster than you can blink.”
He blinked.
“The FBI is taking point on this now.” Tucker’s voice was still that lethal rasp. “Every bit of evidence we are collecting is pointing to the fact that we could be looking at a serial. This isn’t a one-and-done deal, not if our guy went to the trouble of finding a victim from the Iceman’s home turf. He’s emulating the Iceman too perfectly. There will be another victim. We have to act, right now, and by getting these gloves to our team, we will save valuable time.”
A muscle jerked in Anthony’s jaw, but he nodded grimly.
Torez rubbed the back of his neck as he studied Dawn. Everyone called the guy Torez, never Ronald. He hated being called Ronald, she knew that from past experience. In his midthirties, Torez had transferred from Biloxi just last year. He was a quiet guy, intense, but he always seemed to have Anthony’s back—a good trait in a partner. “You gonna be able to give us a good description of Red?”
“Five foot nine, maybe one hundred and thirty-five pounds.” He’d been so terribly thin. “He was bald, but he had a long, grizzled beard, one with red streaks. Dark eyes, thin cheeks.” She quickly described the clothing he’d worn. “I think this guy is a loner, so I doubt he’ll show up at any shelters. You can still check them but—” her gaze swept back to the building “—my money says he’ll come back here.” Home. “So you should put a patrol on the warehouse.”
“A patrol might stop folks from just busting inside a crime scene,” Anthony murmured.
Her cheeks reddened at that not subtle hit. “I found a witness and evidence that we can use on this case. Evidence your guys missed. Do we really want to play the blame game now?”
He shook his head. “Just tell me you were carrying.” And worry was there, creeping into his voice. “You go alone into a place like this, with no backup in sight... What in the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I didn’t want anyone else dying by this man’s hand.” Her chin notched up. “I was thinking that I’m a licensed PI who, yes, does carry a weapon. I’ve been to scenes a whole lot worse than this before and I will be at them again.” She wasn’t going to back down and play the helpless victim.
That won’t be me again. She’d sworn that to herself. Her gaze darted around the group and she caught the dark look exchanged between Tucker and Macey.
Alarm bells went off in her head.
I am not going to like what’s coming.
The detectives headed back to their vehicle. She knew they were calling this in to headquarters and, hopefully, getting an all-points bulletin out for Red. Macey inclined her head toward Dawn. “There anything else about the scene you think we should know?”
“Red is our key.” And I wish I’d caught him. But Red knew this area too well. He’d been able to disappear between the maze of buildings, snaking away and vanishing like a ghost. “He said the killer came to see Jane—Heather,” she quickly corrected. “The guy left his gloves and Red took them.”
“Why didn’t he report what he’d found?” Macey shook her head.
“He was afraid.” Once more, her gaze swept the building. “This was his home. If he called the cops, they’d force him out.” And that was the same reason she was worried about the APB. “He’s going to stay far away from cops. I should hunt for him. I have some contacts in the homeless community. I can put out the word about Red and see what turns up.” She was betting she’d get a hit faster than the NOPD.
“Do it,” Tucker said. “But do it on your way home.” His hand curled around her elbow. “I want to talk to you and your friend Jinx.”
He...he hadn’t talked to Jinx yet?
He led her to her vehicle as the detectives called out for Macey once again. She knew he was angry, but his touch was incredibly gentle on her. “You didn’t flinch this time,” he murmured.
They were beside her car. She looked up at him, frowning.
“When I touch you, you usually flinch away.” His fingers slid carefully down her arm. She could feel the calluses on his fingertips. “You didn’t this time.”
“Tucker...”
“I’m worried you’re a target.”
She’d been worried about the same thing ever since someone had slipped into her home.
“I need you safe, Dawn. I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that safety.”
Her gaze searched his. “Why do those words give me such a bad feeling?”
He looked away. “I’ll follow you home. We’ll talk there.”
She didn’t want to go home. She wanted to pound the pavement and find Red. She wanted to find the jerk out there who’d killed Heather Hartley. She—
“I can pull rank and put you under protective custody right now. I can have you in a safe house within the hour.”
Her jaw dropped. “No. Absolutely not.” She wasn’t going to be shut away. Now she was the one to grab on to him and hold tight. “You’re not serious.”
He looked down at her hands, then back up at her face. “When it comes to you staying alive, I absolutely am.” He inched closer to her and his body brushed against hers. “Haven’t I proven that already? That I will do anything to keep you alive?”
Even shoot his own brother.
She looked away, her emotions too tangled for her to understand, and she saw Anthony, frowning at her. He took a step toward her but she shook her head. She was okay. She didn’t need him riding to her rescue. She didn’t want anyone doing that. I can save myself.
“Dawn?”
Her gaze was pulled back to Tucker’s. She gathered her emotions and when she was sure she could speak calmly, she said, “You aren’t pulling rank. We’re working this case together.”
His eyes glittered at her. “Your friend Jinx didn’t show up for work.”
He’d said he hadn’t talked with her yet, but she’d just thought maybe he’d gotten sidetracked. “Jinx always goes to work. That job means everything to her.”
“Her boss tried calling her, but Malone said he only got her voice mail.”
And Dawn had gotten her voice mail, too.
“I’m not liking this shit, okay? You think someone’s been in your home, another girl from our hometown is already a victim and now your downstairs neighbor is suddenly off-grid.”
“I have a key to her place.” A key that she used to water Jinx’s plants when the other woman went out of town. But Dawn shook her head. “What am I saying? We aren’t going into Jinx’s place. I’ll try calling her again. I’m sure she’s fine.” She has to be fine.
She dialed her friend as Tucker watched. One ring, two, then—
“This is Jinx. You know the drill.”
She didn’t leave a message this time.