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  I wonder why he was here? Donovan was more concerned with the reason his new boss had been less than forthcoming than paying attention to the police cruiser that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Fuck me. Checking the speedometer, it became obvious why. He eased the Caprice over to the side. The mixture of blowing snow and ice caused the car to end up in an awkward position. Wonderful, probably will think I’m drunk, too. Donovan’s face turned red as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  * * *

  Officer Amanda Hoskins was a welcomed addition to the New Haven Police Department. The twenty-five-year-old Iraqi War Veteran had only been with the department for six months, but already, she was working a patrol shift by herself and had earned respect from most of her peers. Even the senior leadership knew great things were in store for her. Officer Hoskins had been working on an accident report from earlier in the evening when the tan Caprice shot past her. She tossed aside the metal folder and activated her emergency lights. When the vehicle failed to acknowledge her existence, her pulse quickened with each passing second.

  Officer Hoskins picked up the radio handset. “22-26 to dispatch.”

  A gruff smoker’s voice answered. “Proceed with your transmission, 22-26.”

  “Dispatch, I’m south on Vista Road pursuing a tan Caprice. Iowa personalized plate, DEDlYD. Weird ass signature. It appears subject isn’t going to stop.” Her voice cracked.

  “22-26, please advise if you need assistance at this time.”

  “Negative, dispatch. The driver appears to be pulling over. Looks like they are having trouble with the road conditions.”

  “10-4. Do you want us to hold the channel for you, 22-26?”

  Officer Hoskins’ voice lowered. “Negative, dispatch. I’ll let you know.”

  “10-4,” the gruff voice retorted.

  Officer Hoskins exited the patrol unit. She unclipped her mini-flashlight from her belt as she cautiously approached. Nice parking job, buddy. The car had slid on a large, icy strip of road and was positioned almost sideways against the curb. She stopped short of the driver’s side window but was able to tell it was a man behind the wheel.

  “Sir, I’m Officer Hoskins with the New Haven Police Department. I stopped you because the speed limit is thirty-five in this stretch of roadway, and you were traveling approximately fifty miles per hour.”

  The man turned his head. “Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t see the sign.”

  I hear that all the time. “I understand that, especially in these road conditions, but I still need to ask you for your driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance.”

  “Yes, officer. My registration and insurance card are in the glove box. May I retrieve them?” The man reached towards the glove compartment.

  Something about this guy gives me the creeps. “Nice and easy please, sir.”

  The man chuckled. “Of course. Would hate to get shot this close to Christmas.” He pulled out the papers and handed them to her.

  You forgot something. “Sir…your license, please?”

  “Sorry, I think I might have left it at home.”

  “Do you have any identification at all?” Officer Hoskins aimed the light further inside the vehicle.

  The man shook his head. “Nothing. I’m really embarrassed.”

  Officer Hoskins scanned the paperwork. “Okay, Mr. Petrie. Let me check something out, and I’ll get back with you in a few minutes.”

  “Anything you need.”

  She walked back to her patrol car and inspected the Caprice’s license plate one more time. Why does that look familiar? She pushed a button mounted on the dashboard camera. Better to see you with. She radioed the dispatcher and relayed the information.

  A few minutes later, the gruff dispatcher radioed back. A sound of urgency filled the small speaker “22-26. 22-26.”

  Something’s up. “Go ahead, dispatch.”

  “22-26, be advised this particular vehicle was just reported by anonymous caller to have been involved in assault at Hager Imports. Also, be aware detectives have placed a description of this car on the hit list.”

  I knew it. “10-4, dispatch. I don’t have a cage in this car, so send me some backup.”

  “I’ll send 22-18 in your direction now. Just got information from another dispatcher who talked to our caller…he has advised the man may be armed with a knife.”

  The plot thickens. “10-4, dispatch. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Officer Hoskins monitored the video camera until she saw red and blue lights in her rearview mirror. After she brought the officer up to speed, they both approached Donovan Petrie’s vehicle.

  * * *

  Donovan knew trouble was headed his way when the officer failed to return in an efficient time frame. The necessity for him to quench his curiosity had gotten him into this, and with the arrival of a second patrol unit, it probably wasn’t going to end well. He peeked over his shoulder. Shit. They’re both coming. After a quick survey of the car, he exhaled. Nothing here to worry about. He had been careful not to leave signs of his extracurricular activity anywhere inside the vehicle.

  Donovan peeked over his shoulder. The female was approaching the vehicle on the left while another unidentified officer was coming from the right. What the hell is going on?

  He heard the female officer yell in his direction. “Sir, I need you to exit the vehicle. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Are you fucking serious? Donovan pushed the door open and slowly climbed out. “What’s this about—”

  “Sir, turn around, and get down on your knees,” Officer Hoskins raised her voice.

  Be calm. They don’t know anything. “Yes, of course. Whatever you say, Officer.”

  “Mr. Petrie, you’re being detained for a reported altercation at Hager Imports, do you understand?”

  Brandon did see me there. Donovan chuckled. “Huh? What kind of altercation are you talking about?”

  “An assault, sir,” Officer Hoskins nodded.

  “What assault? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sir, we received a report of a possible assault at the dealership which named you as the offender.”

  I just usually kill. Not so much on the maiming side. “This is a misunderstanding…really it is.”

  “Sir, we can discuss that once we check out the dealership, okay? Just bear with us.”

  No use arguing. Not the time or place. “My apologies. I understand you have a job to do.”

  The officers placed him in the rear of the patrol car as he waited for them to verify the assault had actually taken place. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, but it seemed way longer than it should have been. The rear door opened, and the frame of a large man appeared in the entryway. Ah, this could be trouble.

  “Mr. Donovan Petrie. I’m Detective Patrick Morgan. I’m investigating several homicides in the metro area, and I think we need to talk…”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Patrick Morgan stared through the two-way mirror. New Haven’s prime suspect for all the recent slayings failed to offer himself as a sacrificial lamb, but to Patrick’s surprise, he didn’t avoid answering the questions poised at him, either. He’s crazy, or he didn’t do anything. The investigator was thumbing through a combination of sketches and colorful photos the crime scene investigators had provided and figured, if Donovan Petrie was involved, this may just push him in the right direction. Patrick was lost in thought when he was felt a tap on his shoulder.

  “We don’t have anything on him for the dealership, Morgan. A couple of uniforms checked it out. Nobody was there. Not one drop of blood at the scene, even if something did take place,” Commander Cromartie said with a worn expression.

  Patrick slammed the folder down. He wiped at his brow. “Even so, the vehicle he’s driving has been witnessed at numerous crime scenes by several people…including Serena Owens and Aiden Jacobs. I can at least bring them in here—”

  “About that, young
man. Next time you send out an All Points on descriptors alone…you better check with me. For shit’s sake…you didn’t even have a partial plate number to refer to.”

  Patrick shook his head. “How many tan fucking Caprices are there, anyway? It was right to send this information out.”

  Cromartie pointed to a chair. “Sit your ass down. I don’t care what you feel is right. I make certain decisions based on what evidence we have, Morgan. You do remember what evidence is?”

  Please spare me a sermon. Patrick nodded. “Of course I do.”

  Cromartie pulled out another chair. His voice softened. “Look, I have no problem with you having those witnesses come down and take a quick peek at him, but take a good look at him, Morgan.” Cromartie pointed at the glass. “You think he could throw the girl off the roof? He would have a hard time punching his way out of a paper bag.”

  Well, he’s right. Donovan Petrie didn’t possess enough body strength needed to toss Azure Sutaki to her death. Patrick cocked his head. “I don’t think he killed her.”

  “Have you found something else since you questioned him?” Cromartie leaned in.

  Patrick removed his coat. “No. He’s been willing to answer my questions, and I haven’t uncovered anything.”

  Cromartie rubbed his chin. “Did he ask for an attorney or to make any phone calls?”

  Patrick chuckled. “No. I asked him if he wanted legal counsel or if he needed to tell anyone where he was at. He looked at me, and said, ‘I don’t have anyone who cares about me, not since a long time ago.’”

  “Okay, you’re right. He’s a little odd. Like I said, contact the two people who saw this guy, and we’ll go from there. If nothing pans out, we cut him loose.”

  Patrick stood up. He glared at the colorless face of Donovan Petrie. Even if Serena and Aiden can’t put him at the scene, this is still a big a mistake to let him go. He turned towards Commander Cromartie and sighed. “Whatever you say. Question for you, anyway. How many Caprices match what he’s driving?”

  Cromartie reached inside his jacket. He handed Patrick a piece of folded paper. “That many. A few years ago, the State Patrol auctioned off their entire stock of Caprices and Impalas. I’m surprised you don’t own one.”

  Patrick frowned. “Okay, I got your point.”

  “Good.”

  Commander Cromartie opened the door. They started to exit when the office phone started to chip. Cromartie snatched it off the ringer. “Commander Cromartie.”

  Patrick couldn’t hear the conversation, but from the expression on Commander Cromartie’s face, he knew it was something important. A minute later, Cromartie hung up the phone. “You know who Mikki Chax is?”

  Patrick nodded. His heart missed a beat. The other stripper. “Where?”

  Cromartie zipped up his coat. “Girl just walked into Ravine’s Goldmine. Constance Ravine is bringing her in.”

  “Sounds like she’s finally coming out of hiding.” Patrick held the door for his supervisor.

  Cromartie managed a smile. “That’s not all. This Mikki seems to remember what the killer looks like.”

  “About damn time we have something useful,” Patrick said.

  Cromartie held a hand up to quiet the younger investigator as he unlocked the door to the interrogation room.

  Donovan Petrie was doodling on piece a paper. He looked up and grinned. “I guess if there are two of you, that means one of you is the good cop, and the other…will be playing the bad.”

  Arrogant fuck. Patrick’s face turned red. “Mr. Petrie, just a little while longer, and we should be done.”

  Donovan shook his head. “No worries. I’m willing to fully cooperate with your investigation.”

  Cromartie adjusted his coat. “We appreciate the help. I just have a few things more to ask. Hopefully, we can clear this up, and you will be on your way.”

  Donovan leaned back. “I hope so. I don’t want to miss work.”

  Patrick opened the brown folder that was tucked under his arm. “Ah, Langston Security Solutions?”

  Donovan smiled. “That’s what I told you earlier.”

  Patrick put up a hand. “I remember…but the Commander wasn’t here with us then.”

  Donovan gave Cromartie a half salute. “Well, Commander, I told him earlier, I work for Brandon Thornley as a Threat Assessment Specialist.”

  Cromartie nodded. “I’m sure Mr. Thornley has thousands of capable applicants. You must have something to offer his team.”

  “Maybe I was just lucky,” Donovan spouted.

  “Perhaps, but I highly doubt it.”

  Patrick listened as Commander Cromartie fired questions at the thin man, but none of them even caused Donovan Petrie to bat an eye.

  Soon after, the door to the interrogation room opened. A New Haven patrolman motioned for Patrick to step outside. He followed. The familiar figure of the sensual Constance Ravine stood at the end of the hallway. She was accompanied by a young Asian woman, who sat in a chair next to her. The woman’s clothing was tattered, and her current physical appearance was also less than flattering. Several grayish colored splotches were strewn about her exposed flesh. Most were located in the face and upper arm region. Out too long in the frozen temperatures.

  As Patrick walked towards the two, the girl clung to Constance Ravine. Patrick paused few feet away. “Hey, there. You must be Mikki. Ms. Ravine told me she was worried about you.”

  Mikki Chax looked up. “I see terrible things. Can’t get out of my head.”

  Poor girl. “Mikki, I see you have some injuries.”

  Constance waved him off. “She was outside in that parking garage overnight. I have a doctor on staff at the casino. He treated her.”

  What don’t you have on staff at the casino? Patrick nodded. “We will talk about that later.” He moved closer to Mikki. “You and Azure were good friends?”

  She covered her face. “My best friend. We do parties together.” Tears flowed down both cheeks. “I so…sorry she gone.”

  “Hey…it’s not your fault. Will you answer a few questions for me before we have you look at the man?”

  Mikki eyes widened. She looked up at Constance Ravine for guidance.

  Constance gave her an approving nod. “Honey, I think it would help.”

  Mikki shook her head. “I help you.”

  That’s a start. Patrick had his notebook out. “Okay, you and Azure did parties together, right?”

  Mikki smiled a little. “We did.”

  “Were you both going to entertain the night Azure died?”

  “Yes.” Mikki closed her eyes.

  Patrick waited for her to open them before he proceeded. “Were you or Azure familiar with the person who hired you for the party?”

  Azure looked up and to the right. She appeared to be trying to remember something. “I didn’t. Azure knew man very well.”

  I’m sure of that. Patrick scribbled on the paper. “You wouldn’t happen to know his name?”

  Mikki shrugged. “Not really. Azure call him Glover-man. He like had lots of money, though.”

  Glover-man. Interesting name. “Lots of money, huh?”

  Mikki smiled. “Lots. He drove us in Jage-warr. Is that how you say it?”

  Patrick smiled. “Close enough. Did Glover-man buy you two any drugs or alcohol?” His eyes focused on Constance. I know the answer to this question.

  Mikki bowed her head. “Glover-man gave us some white powder and a few special pills. I had a lot of Champagne…I think.”

  White powder and special pills. Hmm. “And you didn’t get in on the party with those two?”

  Mikki nodded. “No, they left me in car. I too happy; must have made me sleepy.”

  “So, you woke up and left the car?”

  “Yes, I woke up and saw man grab Azure.”

  Excellent. “What happened next?”

  Mikki wrung her hands. “I pass out. Woke up again, and nobody around. I left car to find Azure. I no find her.”

 
; Passed out while her best friend was murdered. Unbelievable. “So you just wandered around?”

  “No. No clothes and still weak. I no want to go back…man might be there. I hide behind some cars to stay warm.”

  Hence, the frostbite. “Okay, so question for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Glover-man’s car is still there?” Patrick poised his pen.

  “Yes, I sure. I show you where.”

  One step closer, at least. “That would be very helpful.” Patrick cocked his head. “Mikki, is Glover-man the person you saw grab Azure?”

  Tears filled the corners of her eyes. “I no think so. I so…sorry Azure dead. I too drunk and happy to help. I sorry.”

  So am I. Patrick touched her arm. “Mikki, if the man knew you were there…you would be dead, too.”

  She wiped the tears from her face. “Ms. Ravine say him here. That true, Mr. Policeman?”

  A gentle look filled Patrick’s face. “I hope so. We aren’t sure if this is him…that’s why we need your help.”

  Mikki Chax swept a hand through her matted hair. “I do what you ask.”

  Patrick stood. “We have a room…over here.”

  Mikki’s eyes widened as she tightened her grip on Constance Ravine’s clothing. “No, I no want him see me.”

  Patrick soothed his voice. “He won’t be able to. I promise. The room has a two-way mirror. He won’t even know you’re there.”

  Mikki loosened her grasp. “Promise?”

  Patrick smiled. “Yes. Cross my heart.” He swept his fingers over his chest.

  Mikki moved slowly away from her benefactor. “Okay, I follow.”

  Patrick motioned for Constance to stay with the uniformed officer as he escorted Mikki Chax into the spacious room. A set of blinds covered the mirror. “You ok to do this?”

  Mikki crossed her arms. “I ready.”

  Patrick flipped open the blinds. Commander Cromartie had left the area, and Donovan Petrie was sitting in the chair, still appearing to be in his worry-free state.

  “Mikki, take a real close look. Do you recognize the man in the room?”

  She stared at the man but said nothing.