3:16 Page 11
Constance smirked. “I don’t think so. More like long term fuck buddies.”
Not surprising at all. “But again, no altercations in the casino, to the best of your knowledge?”
Constance tapped her fingers on the table. “None. The man just gave off a weird vibe.”
Patrick nodded. “Excuse me for a minute.” He stood up and unclipped his cell phone from his belt.
A few seconds later, Commander Cromartie was on the line. “Morgan, if you’re calling, you found something.”
“Apparently, the dead woman was seen with local sleaze ball attorney, Collin Glover. Sounds like an ongoing affair.”
“Morgan, do you think he pitched her from the roof?”
He’s the only suspect. “Not sure, but let’s dispatch a few officers to his residence and find out?”
Cromartie coughed. “I’m on it. I’ll text you his address, so we can meet.”
“I have a few more questions for the casino owner, then I’ll head your way.”
“10-4. Maybe we can even link him to the other cases.”
“Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
Cromartie let out a nervous laugh. “Not likely, huh?”
“I wouldn’t bet my career on it.” Patrick flipped the phone off.
He returned to his host. Constance took a look at him, then finished the remaining wine.
“You think what I do is wrong. I’ve seen that look before. Just like my dad, when I told him I was quitting the company.”
Patrick stared at her. “I’m here to find out who did this to Azure Sutaki. I think it’s safe to say we both know what really goes on here.”
Constance bit her lip. “Proving it is another.”
“Ah, maybe being an attorney is your calling.” Patrick buttoned his coat. “Instead of all this.”
Constance nodded as she placed both empty glassed on the counter. “Maybe in my next life. I enjoy what I’m doing in this one.”
Patrick reached for the door. “Ms. Ravine, I’ll send some officers over tomorrow to take some statements from some of your staff. Maybe some of them could help us?”
“I’ll talk to Mario. He handles scheduling for me.” She closed the distance between them and stopped only a few inches from his face. The odor of the consumed alcohol, along with her natural attraction to him, made her shed the remaining shyness. “Do you have a card…or something?”
This girl exudes sex. Patrick stepped back. “Sure.” He reached into his coat and handed her a business card. “The bottom number is my direct line. Give me a ring when it’s convenient to talk to the staff.”
He turned to exit but again stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or if he had even heard correctly, but the mention of a man seeking two Asian females for a “party” picked at his brain. He turned back towards the casino owner. “Ms. Ravine, did you mention Collin Glover requested two women to accompany him the night of Azure Sutaki’s death?”
Constance folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, I’m sure I did. Normally, he would just ask for Azure, but that night, he wanted two. I can make a quick call to find out who she was…if you need me to.”
Hello? Of course I do. Patrick’s eyes lit up. “I’d really appreciate it.”
Constance picked up the phone behind the bar. “Just give me a minute or two.”
Patrick nodded. He walked over to a window and watched as the snow had increased to almost whiteout conditions. The crowd on the street was all but invisible through Mother Nature’s latest attack. Patrick’s attention wandered back to Constance. He couldn’t hear her from where he was standing, but the look of fear on her face was more than enough to tell him the news was not good.
The woman hung up and motioned for him. She handed him a piece of paper. “Detective, the other girl was Mikki Chax. The party service had her arriving here around 9:00 p.m., but she never reported back in for a scheduled birthday party the next night.”
Shit. There could be two dead now. “Is this her address, Constance?” He lightly touched her on the shoulder.
Constance was shaking. “Yes. According to the party service, she lives on Hillside. It’s just a mile or so from here.”
Patrick rushed for the door, but her voice stopped him. “Detective, you don’t think she’s dead, do you?”
That or she skipped town. Patrick gritted his teeth. “I don’t know, Constance…I just don’t know.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
New Haven’s only elite auto dealership was in a state of peril. Hager Imports had been ravaged by the snow gods. Most of the inventory was covered with several inches, and Graneth Kensington, District Manager Extraordinaire, was in charge of making sure the vehicles were ready for the next business day. He had called in a skeleton crew to clear the pavements, but with only a few days until Christmas, other responsibilities pulled them away, leaving him to make the morning deadline. Considering the amount he already cleared, and his current pace, he might just make it.
No way for me to spend my after hours. Graneth pulled his scarf up around his face. The snow had dissipated some, but the wind was playing havoc in its aftermath. He tightened up the velcro on the gloves, then swiped the broom across the Mercedes’ rear window.
The shrill sound from a parked car a few rows away surprised him and almost caused him to slip on a patch of ice. Shit! Not now. Graneth slammed down the broom. He plowed through the small drifts in the direction of the disturbance. A blast of cold air slapped him across the exposed part of his face.
“Damn,” he cursed, almost falling a second time.
Stopping a few feet from the wailing, he took a quick look in both directions. Graneth decided the wind had set off the alarm. He peeked at his watch. Damn, almost three o’clock in the morning. It was later than he first imagined. Graneth knew he wouldn’t even come close to finishing before potential buyers were filling the lot. To hell with it.
Discouraged, Graneth walked to the rear door of the dealership. As he stepped in front of the card reader, he noticed the small window adjacent to the keypad was flashing green. Strange…I know it was locked. He slid the access card along the reader, waiting for the light to flash red. After the alarm was reset, he stepped inside. Glad nobody was here to see me fuck up.
He jumped back. A loud scratching noise startled him. Get a hold of yourself. The car dealer had spent countless hours here on many occasions, mostly by himself, so the noises in this building didn’t bother him.
Tonight, however, something felt different. The usual creaks and noises from the heater vents sounded unfamiliar. In fact, they were close to being on the verge of frightening. He stared up at the ceiling in search of the hot bright halogen bulbs. They usually gave him a headache, but right now, they would be a welcomed comfort. Graneth brushed some of the snow from his clothes. He reached for a knob on the wall and turned it clockwise. Have some light in a few minutes. A mechanical hum started to fill the room as the bulbs above started to flicker.
As he opened the door to his office, the aroma of chocolate filled his senses. He ripped off the scarf and threw it on the table. Graneth headed towards the desk and the object of his desire. This will hit the spot. He reached out and fingered the cellophane-wrapped plate. Graneth bent down, inhaling the sweet chocolate sensation. Mum knows what I love.
Graneth peeled the plastic away. His eyes were filled with excitement as he debated which treat to choose first. Satisfied with his choice, Graneth put the piece of chocolate back on the plate. He walked over to his portable fridge, then removed a bottle of wine. A quick peek at the year of its vintage, and Graneth was once again ready to truly indulge his lust for the finer things in life. He removed a corkscrew from his top drawer, making short work of the stopper, then grabbed a Hager Imports giveaway mug. Before he could pour the wine, something caught his eye. Graneth turned just in time to see one final flicker from the ceiling before the interior of Hager Imports was in complete darkness. Even the bank of security lights had been
victimized.
Graneth dropped the mug. “Damn it to hell.” He fumbled back to his desk, then for his top drawer. In the process, he bumped the plateful of treats. It smashed to the floor, pieces of chocolate bounced helplessly on the floor. “Wanker! Whoever is responsible is a complete wanker!”
He ignored the spill and located the receiver. He listened for a dial tone, but none was present. Damn storm…cell phone in the car. Have to head that way. Graneth fumbled some more until he withdrew a skinny metal object. He pushed the button, but nothing happened. He banged it on the desk, in hopes this action would provide a solution. To his amazement, the small bulb popped to life. A thin beam emerged through the lens. Cheap asinine American flashlight.
“About time!” Graneth yelled to no one particular.
He aimed the beam out the door but was unable to see anything beyond a few feet. The manager hesitated before he left the room, then turned back to grab something else off the desk.
A few steps later, he was confronted by finite blackness. The sliver of light helped guide him through the dealership. It was slow-going but first, but as his eyes got adjusted, Graneth closed in on the rear exit.
A few minutes later, he had reached his destination. “Finally.” Graneth positioned the flashlight in front of the card reader. He groped inside his pants pocket until his fingers had grasp on the thin plastic. One swipe, and I’m free. Although he ran the card through, the display stayed dark. “Wanker!”
His first thought was to kick at the door and force his way out. He then realized, if the electricity was affected by the winter storm, the alarm system at the local police station would be going haywire right now. The police dispatcher would almost certainly send a few officers to ensure the dealership was free of undesirables. The winter storm would be a perfect opportunity for criminals to rape the establishment of its finer modes of conveyance. There wasn’t any doubt that the local law enforcement didn’t want to be responsible for any loss the dealership would incur.
Relax, the authorities will be here. Graneth tried the card reader once more but again was unsuccessful. He slumped against the door. I guess I’ll just wait here.
* * *
Brandon Thornley had always been careful when it came to finding the right place to conduct his hobby. This wasn’t the case when it came to dealing with Mr. Graneth Kensington. The man had turned him into the police, and this was about revenge. Up to this point, he had followed a process. A simple friend request on his favorite site, followed by choosing the select few who would see his dark side. This time he was playing it by chance. Brandon had clarity about who he was, and the realization of his thirst for blood was deeper than even he could control. Case in point.
There was no telling how long he could pretend to be Brandon Thornley, Security Consultant by day and evil-driven blood-seeker by night. Graneth’s actions had resulted in law enforcement visiting him at his place of business. Brandon still wasn’t convinced Detective Morgan hadn’t noticed the makeup splotched across his face in haphazard fashion. Probably break down my office door and drag me through the hallways like a common criminal.
Brandon focused on his mission at hand. The Englishman was hunkered by the rear door. Brandon had short-circuited the dealership’s internal security system, along with the phone lines. A few crossed wires here and there and he had bypassed the motion detectors. Brandon would return them to the proper settings once he had cast out his demons on the pathetic car dealer.
Brandon pulled down his black facemask. He unsheathed the knife. He stalked towards his prey, crouched like a lion in the midst of a hunt. The police can’t save you. Reaching into his cargo pocket, he tossed the contents in the direction of Graneth Kensington. Several of the items bounced off the wall and scattered themselves throughout the hard tile.
Graneth jumped. “What in God’s name?” He aimed the light at the floor.
Brandon smiled. Just a few more steps. He moved closer. The diversion seemed to draw Graneth’s attention in the opposite direction from Brandon. One more handful should do it. Brandon adjusted his aim as he hurled the remaining objects to the other side of the room.
Graneth Kensington bolted to his feet. “Shit!” He scanned the floor with the light. He cocked his head as he bent down to examine on the objects. “What the hell are these buggers?”
Brandon leaped from his crouch, hitting Graneth between the solar plexus. The man was already in an awkward stance, so the force of the strike caused him to reel backwards, and the shift of weight was so great, it caused his ankle to snap in a compound fracture. The sound of crunching bone, followed by a blood curling scream, filled the dealership.
“Ah!”
Brandon smiled as muscle and bone were forced through Graneth’s flesh. The Englishman tried to fight off his attacker, but Brandon was stronger. He held the man down with one hand, and placed the blade against his neck with the other.
Graneth whimpered. “My leg…why are you doing this to me?”
Show him who I am. Brandon pressed the steel flush against the Englishman’s neck. Thin streaks of blood escaped from under the blade as he intensified the pressure. Brandon leaned in towards his victim. In one concentrated movement, Brandon severed his carotid artery. A cavernous trail of life juice was all that remained. Graneth Kensington emitted a few gurgling sounds as life ebbed away from him.
Do it now. Brandon removed the mask. A look of dismay, followed by one of acceptance filled, the face of the Englishman as his light was extinguished.
Brandon stared at the man for several minutes before he finally stood. Graneth Kensington wasn’t going to join the others in his graveyard. Brandon had something very special planned for the man who had betrayed him. Very special.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Too fucking cold. Donovan Petrie pushed the button on the Caprice’s thermostat. He thought when the car alarm sounded earlier, the man would have spotted him, and that should have ended his night for spying on Brandon. But to his surprise, the man cast only a fleeting look in his direction before he turned and continued onward. That incident seemed ages ago, and Donovan hadn’t seen the man since. He figured when he pulled the car up next to one of the dealership’s imports, it would be a dead giveaway. Needless to say, with the fresh snow and dense visibility, he considered himself quite lucky.
The warm air was slow to exit the small heating vents. Donovan tapped at them, trying to circulate the flow. He shifted in his seat, then turned the interior lighting on just enough to read the digital display. You gotta be shitting me. Donovan knew it was more than past his time to abandon his surveillance. Where the hell is Brandon? He had witnessed his future victim park his Mercedes at the back of the lot. From there, Brandon walked towards the rear of the building. That was over two hours ago, and he still hadn’t returned. Can’t risk staying here.
Donovan checked his mirrors before turning on the engine. The wiper blades cleared a path on the windshield as he gently drove away from the dealership. Curiosity got the best of him. Donovan drove to the next side street and turned back in the direction of Hager Imports. If law enforcement happened to stop him, he could always insist he was looking for a new car. Not a great excuse in this weather.
Donovan entered the lot, careful not to drive too fast. Even though his adrenalin was surging, he tried to maintain his composure. Brandon has to be around here. He circled around back and noticed the only vehicle present was the snow-covered SUV he presumed to belong to the dealership employee. Donovan rolled down his window. The building had an overabundance of glass, but after close inspection, the interior appeared to be encased in darkness. Where are the security lights? He slowed the car to a stop and exited. Standing outside one of the display windows, he looked for any signs that Brandon or the salesman were still inside.
What the fuck? Donovan exhaled. The power to the dealership appeared to be lost. If he played Devil’s advocate, the upswing was that the security cameras wouldn’t have captured him on film. The
downside was, Brandon Thornley may know someone was watching him, and his element of surprise was now compromised.
A loud bang came from behind him. Donovan spun around. What’s that noise? “Someone here?”
Okay, I don’t like this. He had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Donovan walked backwards all the way to his car. I wonder? He pulled it in gear and drove in the direction where he hoped Brandon Thornley was still parked. Sly fuck. He smiled. Brandon’s Mercedes was no longer present. Donovan sat for a few moments before he picked up his cell phone. He wasn’t sure if his new friend would mind him calling at this hour, so Donovan created an excuse.
The strong voice of Brandon Thornley answered. “Hello.”
Donovan coughed. “Sir, sorry to bother you at home…but I’m a little under the weather today.” See if he buys it.
Brandon laughed. “Well, too much work for you in your first week?”
This guy sounds too calm. “Nah, just spent some time shoveling the snow earlier. I don’t think my dumb ass was ready for this damn blizzard.”
“That’s right…you haven’t been in the Midwest long, have you?” Brandon joked.
He had to have seen me. “I guess not. Lesson learned, I suppose.”
“No worries. Just make sure you’re well before you come back…or I’ll kick the shit out of you.”
Acts like he’s my best buddy. “Gotcha, by the way…what are you doing up? You like picked up on the first ring.” I’m very interested in that answer.
“Oh, nothing too much. Working on expenditure reports for our investigative division.”
At 0400? Yeah, right. “Better you than me, boss. Well, I’m going to get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Are you sure of that?” Brandon joked, then his tone turned serious. “Okay, just fucking with you. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great. Let me get back to these reports.” Brandon hung up without saying anything further.