Twelve
After leaving Nicola, Dallas had one destination in mind and it wasn’t his desk. He turned down the hall that led to the office that Agent Parker had sequestered. When he reached his door, he didn’t knock; he grabbed the knob and opened the door, walking straight in and around the desk, until he had Parker within his grasp. Not giving a fuck if he got suspended, Dallas reached out, grabbed the agent by his jacket, and yanked him out of his chair.
“Tell me you didn’t set her up. Tell me you didn’t use her account without her knowledge and bring this fucker to her door?” Dallas thundered.
Parker had been expecting this confrontation ever since he’d heard about Nicola and her friends. Parker wasn’t about to provoke Vaughn for the simple reason he knew if he was in the same situation, and had a woman he cared about in danger, he’d react the same way.
“I’ll give you two seconds to take your hands off me then I’ll explain,” Parker threatened.
Dallas didn’t need two seconds he needed answers. Shoving Parker back, he moved to his door and slammed it shut, leaning against it. He crossed his arms then took a deep breath to calm his rage, while he waited for Parker to pull off his suit jacket and loosen his tie.
After he’d let Nicola walk away from him the night before, giving her space to sort out her head, he’d gone home. Between wondering what the hell Parker was thinking trying to enlist Nicola for his investigation, and fighting the urge to drive to her house, he hadn’t slept. Wide-awake he’d come into work early. From the moment he’d heard the 911 call over his police ban Dallas hadn’t been able to take a deep breath. Even now as he stood there waiting, his lungs felt constricted. These murders were connected to Nicola and her friends he had no doubt. What he needed to know is if it was because of her online accounts, and the FBI’s interference with them, or something else.
“We received a request from your captain two months back asking for assistance,” Parker began. “We studied the file and then handed it over to one of our computer experts. We were able to ascertain that your Shallow Grave Killer found his victims through the online websites Plenty of Fish and Sub Seeking Dom. This guy is good, Vaughn, he covers all his bases. That’s why you haven’t been able to pin him down. However, your last victim, Stacy White-Cline, she’d changed phone carriers about a week before she disappeared and her old phone was found at her home. When your computer techs uploaded her files, they found a mobile app called Kik that she used to communicate with your killer. The killer’s profile was taken down about the time she disappeared, but we were able to trace it back to the original source.”
“Then bring the bastard in,” Dallas responded immediately.
“We would if it linked back to an individual.”
“Who the fuck does it link back to?”
“The Tulsa Police Department,” Parker answered, and watched Vaughn closely for his reaction.
Parker came to Tulsa with an open mind. Knew when he started investigating, he’d have to consider everyone a suspect. However, after talking with Vaughn he’d instinctively known that the man was innocent. He’d lay is reputation on the fact that he was dealing with a clean cop. He’d talked with enough of his fellow detectives to know Vaughn worked outside the law. Parker knew he did what needed to be done to catch killers, short of manufacturing evidence like some overzealous law men had done in the past. With that in mind, and in the light of what had happened this morning with Nicola and her friends, he decided to bring Vaughn into the fold, so to speak.
Parker wasn’t there for the Harvest Killer case like he’d told Vaughn. Though he wished he were, that psychopath needed to be exterminated with extreme force as soon as humanly possible. Parker was there to investigate the possibility that one of Vaughn’s own was a serial killer.
Parker watched as Vaughn sucked air into his lungs, then let is out slowly. Moving from the door, he covered the distance quickly and got nose-to-nose with him.
“Are you tellin’ me I have what amounts to the devil in my house, in my fuckin department?”
“No, what I’m telling you is that whoever is committing the murders routed his activity through the department’s computers. I can’t tell if it’s internal or external yet. And without more evidence, I have to conclude it’s internal until I can prove otherwise.”
“All right, well get back to that in a minute, right now I want your word you didn’t hack into her account and attract this fucker.”
“I’m not in the habit of bending the law, Vaughn. Until Nicola agrees to cooperate, I won’t touch her accounts.”
“Accounts? As in plural?”
“Yeah, she has one on Sub Seeking Dom as well. That’s why she we noticed her when we were digging through the websites. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No,” Dallas bit out, “but she’s taking them both down tonight.” Dallas studied Parker, gaging the truthfulness of the man. He saw no sign of deceit. “Christ, if you didn’t contact this guy through her accounts and she hasn’t talked with anyone but you, according to her statement, then I don’t know what the fuck I’m dealing with. I don’t believe in coincidence, Parker. That fact she and her friends knew both women—”
“Agreed,” Parker interrupted. “If it were my case I’d go with that conclusion as well. Let’s assume the connection isn’t Nicola and her friends for a minute, but the first victim. She was a loan officer, correct?”
“Right,” Dallas responded.
“Check and see if she denied a loan to anyone who was irate about being declined, or loaned at too high an interest-rate causing the owner to be foreclosed on. It could be that your yoga instructor saw something she shouldn’t on Friday and he came back to keep her quiet.”
“The evidence suggests rage was involved, that it was personal. The way he hacked her to pieces doesn’t fit with keeping her quiet.”
“Was the second kill more aggressive than the first?”
Moving to the corner of the desk, Dallas leaned his hip against it and nodded. “Yeah, it was extreme, off the charts rage.”
“He might have let loose with the second because he enjoyed the kill so much he got off on it and couldn’t stop.”
“Developed a taste for it? Jesus, that’s all we need, another psychopath roaming the streets. Can you throw the file at one of your profilers so I can see what I’m dealing with?”
Parker considered the request and figured it would go a long way toward inter-agency relations. Feeling charitable, Parker shrugged and told Vaughn, “Forward the file. I’ll put my guy on it and see what he comes up with.”
Nodding, Dallas stood from the desk, but he wasn’t going to leave until he had more answers.
“You wanna tell me why you pushed my buttons last night?”
Parker smiled. Vaughn was sharp, but he wasn’t about to give him the full truth.
“Not particularly.”
“You were testing me and I want to know why.”
“In due time,” was the only answer Parker was going to give. There was one aspect of the investigation Vaughn didn’t need to know until the killer was found.
Nodding, Dallas clenched his jaw and then turned to leave.
“She’s an intriguing woman.”
Dallas paused and looked back at Parker, his hackles rising at the interest in the man’s voice.
“You don’t find women like that where I’m from,” Parker continued
“Nope,” Dallas agreed, “you find women like Nicola in your dreams. Lucky for me, I found her first. It’ll be unlucky for you, if you so much as look at her again.” Dallas held the agent’s eyes for a moment, making sure he got his point across, then turned on his heels and left.
Dallas was scowling when he left Parker’s office, though he grinned when he heard Parker laugh. He knew the man might be interested in Nicola, but he was also a man who knew better than to step on toes.
When Dallas reached his desk, Reed was waiting for him. He tossed his keys to his partner, and kept right on walking toward the exit. Reed followed without questioning where they were headed.
“You’re driving.”
“Where are we going?”
“To pick up Nicola’s car and return it to her.”
“Seems I missed a lot at the crime scene this morning, are you on a first name basis with the woman finally? No more Sandra Dee?” Reed asked as they headed toward the elevator.
“Jesus, you’re worse than June when it comes to news,” Dallas chuckled.
“Who the hell do you think I’m getting’ this information for?”
Dallas pushed the button on the elevator, then turned to Reed and grinned.
“I know that grin,” Reed hooted. “Just so I know, am I bringing you back to the station once we get Ms. Romance Writer’s car back to her, or are you stayin?”
“I need my bike, so no, I’m not stayin’ . . . this trip,” Dallas added.
Reed’s slow grin told Dallas he got the message. He didn’t say more. Right now, he needed to focus and find this killer, so Nicola and her friends could breathe easy.
***
“Where the fuck are you?” Dallas roared over the phone.
“How did you get my number, I don’t remember giving it to you,” I kind of slurred.
“I got it off the card you left Bill. Now, where the fuck are you?” he repeated.
“Oh . . . we’re, um, at Smoky Joes counting balls. They were having a charity bingo night so we took a cab so we could drink,” I giggled since I’d consumed three shots and three drinks in the course of three hours. To say I was relaxed and having fun with Angela and Janeane would be an accurate assessment of our current state of relaxedness.
I’m sure you wondered how I got from point A to point B, but have no fear I’ll enlighten you.
All this happened after Dallas dropped off my car like he promised, while Mom and Dad as well as Bo and Finn were at my house freaking out about me finding a body. They’d hung out half the afternoon until Dallas came by with my car. Dad took one look at Dallas and breathed a sigh of relief, and mother’s eyes had glazed over at the sight of my dark warlord, no doubt imagining the wedding she’d get to plan if this worked out between us. I’d made the introductions expecting he wouldn’t stay long, only to be hauled off to my bedroom for a “private” conversation. He told me, in between a make out session that included plenty of groping, that he’d be at my house no later than ten, and to wait up for him. Well, as you can imagine, when my mother heard he was coming over after work she’d shooed my father and brothers out the door, spouting off that a man doesn’t need company after a long day at work. Yeah, I know, but you can’t help but love her.
Angela came over early in the evening, since her husband was out of town and we discussed the whole killer-after-us scenario and decided that Toni and Melissa’s deaths couldn’t possibly tie back to the five of us. I mean, we didn’t really know them. In fact, for all we knew they could have known each other. If the killer had gone after one of the five of us, I could see the cause for alarm, but these women weren’t our friend’s per se, more like acquaintances. We knew them obviously, since Angela worked with Melissa and we all took the same yoga classes with Toni. Not to mention, we all bought our coffee at the same coffee house, but so did thousands of other people. If anything, it linked back to the coffee house or the yoga studio, since Toni worked there and Melissa took classes as well. The way I saw it, Dallas should be protecting Kasey not me.
I know that doesn’t answer how that got me from point A to point B. Patience, my little grasshoppers.
Here’s the deal. Janeane held a nasty grudge when she was pissed. And by nasty I mean digs her claws into it and won’t let go until she is good and ready. Which is what she was doing with the whole, “You broke your oath” fiasco. So when she called while Angela and I were hanging out at my house, throwing back a few shots to calm down, saying, “I’m at Smoky Joes come play bingo we me. You gotta meet Mrs. Slocume from my law office, the woman is a hoot and has the most gorgeous pink hair,” I knew I was in a pickle. You see, I knew I’d promised Dallas I wouldn’t leave, so I was torn between trying to mend fences with Janeane and not breaking my promise to Dallas. Then Angela pointed out that I had no problem breaking my word to them, which made me feel about two feet tall. Hearing that, my guilt won out over any caution I may have had about staying home with a killer on the loose. Not to mention, my slightly inebriated writer’s brain heard “Slow Cum” instead of Slocume and I knew we had to go so we called a cab and left.
I’d known Dallas a week; these women were my best friends and had been half my life, there really was no other option—hoes before bros. Since Angela needed me and Janeane was willing to speak to me, it was my duty to go per the BFF manual. Pissed off cop or not.
I figured I’d go with Angela, make sure she got home safe, and then head back home in time for Dallas to arrive. Unfortunately, between three shots and three drinks in three hours, not mention Mrs. Slocume, the hip grandmother with shaggy pink hair, who screamed out Orgasm whenever she bingo’d, I lost track of time.
“You wanna explain why you’re at Smokey Joes Tittie Pit when you promised me you wouldn’t leave your house?”
“Ok, here’s the deal. Janeane was mad at me and I’ve only known you a week, so when I heard Mrs. Slow Cum was here and that she had pink hair I couldn’t say no to her, understand?”
“You’re tellin’ me that you and your friends are riskin’ your lives by being out unescorted while there is a killer on the loose, because of a woman with pink hair?”
“That and men in chaps. We’ve seen more balls tonight than at a porno convention,” I explained, but got nothing back but dead air.
“Dallas?”
“Give me a second . . . I could handle the pink-haired woman named Mrs. Slow Cum, but the image of men walkin’ around with their balls hangin’ out is gonna take a second.”
“Dallas, I’m pretty sure they’re gay.”
“Nicola, I’m pretty sure I don’t give a fuck.”
“You know, you should learn to relax. Chasing bad guys is gonna make you old before your time.”
“If you woulda been where you were supposed to be, I’d be workin’ off some of this stress with that gorgeous body of yours.”
Well then . . . I couldn’t argue with that.
“Um, give me an hour and I’ll be home.”
“Stay put I’m comin’ to you,” Dallas ordered before he hung up abruptly.
Angela had been listening to my conversation and was grinning from ear to ear when I laid down my phone. We were waiting for the next round of bingo to start, while Mrs. Slocume or Bette as she called herself, an outrageous older woman from Janeane’s law firm, who indeed had pink hair, danced in the aisle.
Bette was not like any other grandmother I’d ever met. She was tall, lithe, dressed classy, and had dyed her short, shaggy, silver hair pink. Dressed in a white-linen pantsuit, silver trench coat, and sliver spiked-heels, she’d had us rolling in the aisles all evening and kept up with us drink for drink. All while slapping gay men’s asses when they passed our table.
“Tell me about this new man in your life,” Bette asked as she plucked a cherry from its stem.
“He’s a detective, and has the dreamiest honey-colored eyes,” I informed her.
“Oh, you poor, romantic child, eyes aren’t important in the least,” Bette chuckled. “He must be well-endowed, dear, that‘s what is most important. It’s my considerable experience that unless they’re well-endowed to begin with, you’re in trouble when they get older.”
“Sorry?” I laughed.
“Shrinkage, my dear. If they start out small, they end up the size of a twelve-year-old boy.”
“You made that up,” Angela laughed.
“Did I?” Bette smiled. “My Frank, God rest his soul, was a virile man, but as he grew older and gained weight there was shrinkage. I believe it has something to do with blood flow. Anyhow, everything stops working properly when they hit fifty, then it’s a fast ride to celibacy or a bumpy ride until it stops working once and for all. It’s God’s last laugh over men and their superiority complex. They’ve controlled women since, well, the beginning of time, but women can have an orgasm until the day they die. You tell me, ladies, would you rather be a man with a limited sex life or a woman who can go to her grave moaning in ecstasy?”
Do you see what I mean?
“Woman,” Angela, Janeane, and I agreed laughing.
We’d no sooner stopped laughing when the next round of porn bingo began. We each had cards, but instead of numbers, the cards had phrases.
Each woman had twenty-five penis shaped chips, and each man had twenty-five vag shaped chips. Though, most of the men wanted penis shaped and most of the women wanted vag shaped chips. This made sense, of course, since the charity bingo was put on by the LGBT community. Instead of warding off men’s advances all night, we’d been warding off women’s advances all night. I’d never been propositioned by a woman before, and though it was flattering, it made me giggle.
How porn bingo was played was simple. Each round was over when you had two winners. It didn’t matter if the same sex who won, there just had to be two winners. Those two were then called up to the stage and a bad porno was played without the sound. The two winners were required to ad-lib dialogue and the one who had the most applause at the end of the round won a gift certificate to a local restaurant or store.
There were gay men dressed in chaps, bare assed, of course, and they were circulating amongst the crowd bringing drinks to everyone while we played. They had drag queens calling out the phrases as a ball was drawn, and in between rounds, they performed to the delight of the crowd. Oh, and you had to shout out “orgasm” if you had a bingo. Bette had bingo’d twice and won both of her challenges. Angela, Janeane, and I had yet to bingo, and with Dallas on his way, I figured my chances were waning.
On the other hand . . .
“Orgasm,” I cried out when I covered “wet spot” on my card. I was the second winner of this round so I crawled off my stool and headed toward the stage.
The first winner was a woman who, from the way she was checking me out, was batting for the other team.
“Aren’t you just the cutest thing,” Rue Bella announced to the crowd, while she looked me up and down. “Tell me sugar, do you save all that sweetness for the men or the women?”
As if on cue, Dallas walked into the bar, so I grabbed the microphone and shouted, “I save if for dark and dangerous warlords.”
Dallas didn’t know what I was talking about, since I hadn’t shared any of my dreams about him, but the half-grin he gave me told me he caught my meaning. He walked to the bar, raised his hand for a beer, then leaned against the long oak counter and watched.
“Ok, sugar, you’ve seen how this works all night. Put your game faces on and give the crowd a show they won’t forget anytime soon.”
At that announcement, the girls and Bette started chanting, “Nicola, Nicola,” as a bad porno called Edward Penishands began to play. My opponent got down to business quickly and decided to improvise as the man on the screen. However, I froze when it came to my lines. One reason was because the screen was huge and all that nakedness right in my face made me laugh. The other reason was that Dallas was in the crowd making me nervous.
“Um, you’re very big,” I laughed because obviously, when the screen is twenty by twenty any penis would be huge.
“I know just how to use it, baby doll,” my opponent.
“Um, that’s nice?” I replied, completely at a loss for words. Then I peeked at Dallas and saw that what few women here, who weren’t gay, were trying to talk to him.
Hmm.
“I bet you do know how to use it, my handsome warlord. I’m sure those big, bulging muscles and strong, firm thighs could sweep me off my feet, my lord,” I continued breathlessly staring directly at Dallas. He’d been watching me, ignoring the ladies around him and when I uttered that line, he’d choked on his drink. I smiled at Dallas when he shook his head in warning, then laughed when his narrowed eyes darted around the room as people turned to look at him. I nodded slowly, letting him know he wasn’t getting out of this, and watched as his corded neck tipped his head back in acceptance. Then I continued before the other woman had a chance to gain some ground.
“You know, I’ve waited a long time for a man like you to come along, one who knows exactly how to make a woman burn. I knew the first time I saw you, nay, the moment I looked into those honey-colored eyes, that you were the mightiest warlord of them all.”
At this point, Dallas titled his head back down and watched cautiously as I’d exited the stage and made my way toward him. The closer I got, the taller he stood, until he was ramrod straight in front of me.
“Um, can she leave the stage like that?” the other woman asked.
“Honey, I’m thinkin’ she can do whatever the fuck she wants,” Rue Bella replied.
Ignoring the other contestant, I looked Dallas up and down, then put my hand on his chest, and said, “Of course, my maiden sensibilities tell me to run from you. Aye, I can see that you might be too big for me to handle. Yet, I’m sure a mighty warrior as yourself knows how to use a slow, but firm, hand when the maiden is so pure.”
I finished my dialogue and rubbed my hand over his chest and down his stomach, but was halted by his hand before I could go further south. I looked up into those honey-colored eyes, when he stopped me and my breath hitched when I saw them staring back at me— intense and hungry. A tad uneasy that I’d made such a spectacle, I started to turn back toward the stage since I was finished. However, Dallas had other ideas when I tried to leave He grabbed my waist and halted me, then swung me back, dipped me low across his arm claiming my mouth. The whole bar erupted into applause as Dallas pillaged and plundered my mouth, and I held on for the ride of my life. When he was done, he pulled back, kept his eyes pinned on mine, and then softly whispered, “What did we win for that performance?”
“I had my heart set on dinner for two at Mahogany Steak House.”
Smiling at that, he then whispered, “Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Maiden sensibilities?”
“I’m fairly pure,” I scoffed.
“I got a memory from this afternoon that says otherwise.”
“Don’t be crass.”
“Don’t be cute.”
“Whatever, I was winging it.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Dallas mumbled, “it worked. I intend to take a slow, but firm, hand with you as soon as I get you home. Though, probably firmer rather than softer for the shit you just pulled.”
Hell’s bells, he wouldn’t, would he?
I narrowed my eyes and studied Dallas closely, then decided by the gleam in his eyes and the twitch of his lips that he absolutely would.