AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She did. I was paid to listen to her and pull information, so that’s what I did. She was like a lot of kids. She wanted to make something of her life. There was a point at which I tried to help her.”
“How?”
“Benny had smacked her hard and left a bruise on her face. I found her in the back office, trying to cover it up with paint and powder. I said she deserved better.”
“Did she believe that?”
“She thought he was better. She thought bruises were the cost of doing business. Anybody else, and I might have hauled them to a shelter, but I couldn’t do that for her without giving it all away.”
“You were doing your job.”
“Yes, I was. But it still sucked to see the pain on her face.” She dug her finger into the side of the cup, not liking the fact the conversation was trained on her. “So tell me about you, Novak. I get tired of hearing about myself.”
“My life has been work and my kid.”
“No special lady in your life?”
His gaze sharpened. “No.”
“Why not? You’re decent looking.”
“Decent?”
“You have a quality,” she said, smiling.
“Thanks. I think.” A smile tugged. “No special lady. What about you? Anyone in particular?”
Her smile faded when she realized he was watching and waiting for an answer. “No one in my life. I’m not easy to be around, if you haven’t noticed.”
He tossed his trash in a street bin. “Didn’t notice.”
She threw away her cup. “I thought you were a better liar than that.”
He winked. “Let’s have a look at that warehouse.”
The site was three blocks away, and they opted to walk. Forensic and DNA testing could often seal the deal on a conviction, but knocking on doors and talking to people caught most suspects.
The area around the warehouse was quiet. Though there’d been some economic development in the Manchester district, this pocket was mostly untouched.
“If I were looking for a place where no one would bother me,” she said, “it would be here. This is a good hundred yards from the next business.”
Novak scanned the buildings as they passed. “There’s a security camera on the grocery store and the gas station. Riggs is reviewing both.”
“What about the architectural salvage yard? I know they have cameras.”
“Four, as it turns out. They sent over tapes yesterday, and Riggs is going through them. Their system holds three days of video.”
“Those would cover the murder window.”
They approached the yellow crime-scene tape that blocked off the front entrance to the warehouse. Across the street a marked city car was parked, and the officer inside nodded to Novak.
He pushed open the door and flipped on the lights to the right, which slowly began to warm up, reluctantly spitting out more light. Their footsteps echoed in the large room as they walked toward the spot directly under where the victim had been hanging.
Julia stared up at the ceiling and suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She stepped back a few feet and collected herself.
Novak looked up at the beams with their new hooks. “It took work and planning to get those up there. He was here before the killing.”
Julia nodded. “Scoped it out.”
“Why Ortega?”
“She was killed because she knew me.” She sensed Novak’s full and undivided attention. “Did you notice the knots around her chest? The cops never released the knot configurations. The ones binding Lana were tied exactly like the first three cases. Only the Hangman would know that.”
“Or someone who had access to the files.”
She shook her head as she looked around the room. “It all feels so convenient.”
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” She mentally checked off all the obvious facts. “It feels off.” She’d had the same feeling when she’d gone to Benny’s bar that last day. She had no reason to believe any of it would go sideways, but it did.
“What do you suggest?”
“We talk to Benny’s lawyer, Elizabeth Monroe. She’s smart, slick, and will break any rule to get what she wants.”
“You think she killed Lana?”
She shrugged. “She knows more than she’s saying.”
He was silent, and then, “Okay. I’ll look into her.”
She studied him. “Just like that?”
“You have good instincts, so yeah, just like that.” He stepped toward her, his hands in his pockets. “Let’s have a look upstairs.”
“Sure.”
They climbed a set of stairs that took them to a second floor packed with hundreds of boxes. “A redevelopment company bought the building two years ago, but the company went bankrupt. This place has sat unused for two years. The former owner must have been using the space as storage,” Novak said.
“Why walk away from inventory?”
“Might have been more expensive to move. Nowhere else to store it.”
She walked to a window that overlooked the James River. Outside, the waters slowly swept by.
As she turned, Novak squatted and pointed a light on the dusty wood floor. If anyone had been up here in the last couple of months, they’d have left impressions in the dust.
The floor by the boxes on the south wall looked well traveled. They both approached, and Novak put the light on the boards and then the boxes. The box on top wasn’t as dusty, a sign it might have been opened recently.
“Have a look at this,” Novak said. He handed his flashlight to Julia for a look.
She opened the top flap with the tip of the flashlight. The box was empty except for a couple of extra hooks that matched the ones in the downstairs ceiling. “Looks like our guy used this as his hiding place. Getting a little too lazy to cart his craft off-site.”
“I’ll call forensics and have them dust the box and the brackets for prints.”
She stepped back, asking herself how much planning this killing had taken. “Yeah.”
“How many more days do you have left to work the Hangman case?” Novak asked.
“It’s back to the job on Monday, and after that, whenever I can find time. I still have this weekend to catch up with the third victim’s family.”
“Vicky Wayne.”
“Yes. And I owe a visit to Shield to see if Andrews has been able to find anything else.”
“Keep your head on a swivel.”
“If I’m anything, Novak, it’s careful.”
“Define careful.”
She shrugged.
They stood staring at each other. It was awkward. As if one should say more, but neither could find the words.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Friday, November 3, 1:00 p.m.
Images of the crime scene plagued Novak long after he dropped Julia off. When he made his way into the squad room, he spotted Riggs pouring a fresh cup of coffee.
“I checked out that Hangman website,” Riggs said. “Since this case aired on the news, the hits have rocketed up.” He shook his head. “It’s all a fucking game to people. No one stops to think about the women who were strung up.”
“Any luck on the surveillance video from the Ortega crime scene?”
“I’ve been through them all. Saw drunks stagger past and a gang of kids, but no one hauling an unconscious woman.”
“He had to get her in there somehow.”
“He must have known about the cameras and found a way around them.” Riggs flipped through a small notebook. “I did get the name of a guy who used to work undercover with Jim Vargas. His name is Nate Unger, and he might be able to shed some light on Detective Vargas.”
“Nice work.”
Riggs dumped a couple of tablespoons of sugar in the cup. “He lives about forty miles west. Off the grid or some shit like that.”
“I’d like to talk to him,” Novak said. “Julia also wants me to focus on Santiago’s attorney, Elizabeth
Monroe.”
“Think the lawyer is cunning enough to off Lana and make it look like an old serial killer?”
“Hell if I know,” Novak said. “But it’s worth a shot.”
