Page 9
A s Kylie walked into the morgue, she looked around nervously, hoping a line of bodies wouldn’t be in her view. Since she’d had no exposure, she didn’t know what it would be like.
“They aren’t just lying around,” Porter shared, trying to lighten the thick tension bubbling around her.
She hoped so, only to stiffen as she caught sight of the coroner, standing over a body and talking into a recorder.
The doctor heard them enter and shut off his recorder. “There you are.”
“Hey, Doc. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” He looked over at Kylie. “I don’t believe I know you.”
“I’m Kylie, one of the sketch artists,” she said.
He smiled, then nodded. “Welcome. This is my studio.”
She smiled, as if understanding what he meant, and, with that, she seemed to relax a little bit.
“So, what do you want to know?” the coroner asked Porter. “I mean, outside of the fact that I’m completely drenched in bodies, and I could use a whole lot more time than you’ve given me.”
“I understand, but I did wonder if you had come to the one woman who had been posed at the casino.”
“Ah, now she’s an interesting one,” the coroner noted. “Unfortunately, given her identity, I’m sure she’ll get a lot more attention than the others.”
“Maybe,” Porter conceded, “but it won’t be because of her identity but because of the abnormality in her killing versus the others.”
“Right,” the doc replied. “So let me begin. She’s healthy, outside of the fact that she’s got some bullet wounds. She was posed, then shot in the ankles and hands, which is already an oddity compared to everybody else in the casino, who were just randomly shot. Apparently she deserved extra bullets in that way.” He shook his head. “You just really never understand the mindset of these killers.”
“And is that what her killer was up to, getting supposed justice,” Kylie asked, “or was somebody else pulling his chain?”
He turned to her. “I’m not sure what you mean there.”
Porter explained, “She’s just wondering, as am I, if we have a completely different killer in this casino case. The MO with the senator’s daughter was very, very different than all the others who were killed, and that’s a concern.”
“That did cross my mind. I don’t have any proof that you have a different killer, but I do have proof that she was killed by a completely different method. If that’s what you’re asking for, then yes. I’ve got something there.” He went through the list of injuries she had sustained from the bullets.
“While she had been shot, her cause of death was a stabbing to her back, right between the ribs, high up and right into the heart,” he stated, indicating a wound on the body. “She would have died instantly, so the bullets were a surprise. I’m waiting on ballistics to see if it’s the same bullets, the same gun that shot her and the others in the casino.”
“That would be interesting too,” she murmured.
“Wouldn’t it though?” he asked, nodding at her with approval. “Either way, something was very specific about her shooting versus anybody else’s. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
At that, Porter hesitated and then replied, “Somebody of interest was seen at that crime scene before the shooting started or around the same time of the shooting. We don’t really have a timeline as of yet, and the question is whether he may have had something to do with the senator’s daughter’s death.”
“So, who is he, and why do we care?” the coroner asked.
“Keefe Hogan.”
As soon as Porter mentioned the shooter’s name, the coroner’s eyes lit up. “Good God, seriously?”
He nodded. “Yes, seriously.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“I know, a very long time.” He hesitated, then looked back at Kylie and added, “We do have some reason to believe he might have been at the casino.”
“Oh, if he was, then all bets are off on the senator’s daughter’s death. The others were shot, some randomly, some by accident,” he noted, as he motioned to a child off to one side, the coroner’s face creasing with sorrow. “Then some just appeared to be helter-skelter, as if he shot wildly.”
“Which is what we suspect the casino shooter did anyway,” Porter stated. “He’s been ID’d as John Smith, a local. His real name too.”
“And then we come back around to the one woman who appeared to have deliberate shots fired in a completely different way, depicting a crucifixion.”
“Yes,” Porter agreed. “Of course the staging also indicates that either we had the mass shooter trying to cover up this one woman’s murder among the series of murders, or we have a second murderer there.”
“I vote for a second murderer there,” Kylie noted.
“I do too, but that’s for you guys to prove,” the coroner replied, with a smile in her direction. “I’ll send you a report as soon as I have it done. However, remember that I’ve got a crap load of victims here, and I won’t get it written up anytime soon.”
“Still, can you put a rush on it?” Porter asked.
“No, not really. I know she’s a senator’s daughter, and I know you’ll pull as much rank as you can, and you want as much information as you can get,” he explained, “but I still have a lot of bodies to work with.”
“Yes, but she was killed in another manner,” Kylie pointed out, “so she takes priority because her killer is still out there, and that we cannot have.”
The coroner frowned at her and then shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”
And hearing the same words that she had echoed not so long ago, she nodded. “That’s all any of us can do.” She looked over at Porter and asked, “Anything else or are you good now?”
He laughed. “I’m good.” He looked over at the coroner. “Stay in touch, Doc.”
“You too.” As they were about to leave, the coroner called out, “She can come back anytime.”
And, with that, the doors closed behind them. She looked over at Porter. “I’m sorry. Did I jump in where I wasn’t supposed to be?”
“No,” he replied easily, “you did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
“And what was that?” she asked in a mocking tone.
“Be yourself. Just be yourself. That’s always the best answer to anything.”
“It’s also damn hard sometimes,” she muttered. “This isn’t my world, and I’m still very uncomfortable in it.”
“Of course,” he agreed, “but I think you’re wrong in saying it’s not your world. I think it’s more your world than you realize.” He gave her a warm smile. “It’ll just take you a little bit of time to find a place to call home and to be comfortable.”
“Maybe,” she muttered, “but God knows it’s not been the easiest so far.”
“How long have you worked for us?”
“A few months,” she said.
“Funny how you seem to have been a mouse this whole time.”
“I have been staying in the background, trying rather hard to avoid all the potential drama that goes with the officers,” she admitted, with half a smile, “and then you came along and dragged me out into the public eye anyway.”
“Yep, there doesn’t have to be drama all the time, but it sure helps if you can get out from under it all and see the world around you,” he stated. “Good things can always occur, but you have to get out in the world for them to happen. You can’t just hide away.”
“Hiding has kept me safe,” she declared.
“Hiding has kept you hidden,” he pointed out, “but it didn’t keep you alive. You kept yourself alive, but you’re hardly living. And, as far as your stalker guy is concerned, he wants to confirm you don’t get to live at all.”
“You don’t know that,” she argued, frowning at him.
“Maybe not, but I don’t really want you to take any chances and end up in a situation that you are unable to get out of.”
“That’s a little depressing to consider,” she said, staring at him. “I wasn’t really planning on that.”
“I understand,” he replied. “All I can say is, when it comes to guys like this, there really isn’t an easy answer or an easy way out. So, you have to be careful every step of the way.”
“I was planning on it,” she noted, “and even now I’m exhausted and just want to go back home again.”
“And I’m happy to take you, but—”
“But what?” she asked, eyeing him warily.
“I want to confirm that your place is secure and that you won’t do anything stupid.”
She snorted. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I hardly have another place to go to, and you’ve made that location a whole lot smaller.”
“Did I? I don’t think so. That was all you.” She glared at him, but it didn’t faze him one bit. He smiled and added, “Or we could go out for dinner.”
She stared at him in shock. “You mean, like a date?”
He burst out laughing. “I don’t know about a date, seeing as just the thought of that appears to make you want to run for cover.”
“It does make me want to run for cover,” she admitted. “Something is very scary about you.”
He stopped to face her. “Seriously?”
She shrugged. “You’re a force that won’t be contained. You don’t listen to anything I say, and you obviously want your own way in anything you do. It’s not the easiest environment for me.”
“Wow. I hadn’t really considered any of that, but you’re right.” He gave her a tender glance. “So, I can take you home if you want, or we can go out for dinner and get some food, and you can relax a little more. Either way,” he shrugged and added, “It wouldn’t hurt both of us to get out a little more.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. As they got into his vehicle, he asked, “Chinese or Italian?”
She automatically answered Italian and then shook her head. “See? I’m just no good at this.”
“Why aren’t you any good at this?”
“Because you just got that answer out of me without thinking.”
“That’s because you trust me, and you don’t have any reason to not go out with me.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, with half a smile. “You’re damn scary.”
He laughed. “No, I’m not.”
They were still arguing as he pulled up to a restaurant, and she looked at it and smiled. “This is one of my favorite places.”
“Oh, so you do go out,” he teased.
She shrugged, “Not very often.” As they walked into the restaurant, she froze.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, nudging her forward.
In a hoarse whisper, the words strangled in the back of her throat, she whispered, “He’s here. Dear God, he’s here.”
*
Porter’s gaze encompassed the entire restaurant. “Are you sure?” he asked in a low voice. “I’m not seeing any likely suspects.”
“His energy,” she whispered, “I can feel it.”
“Feel it as in right now, or feel it as in maybe it’s lingering?”
She gave an irritable shrug. “I don’t know,” she snapped. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
“Do you get headaches often?”
“No, I don’t. Well, sometimes, yeah,” she corrected herself.
A waitress walked up to them and asked how many was in their party. He hesitated, wondering if Kylie would be okay to stay.
Kylie replied, “Two.”
The hostess nodded. “Follow me, please.”
Porter followed, keeping a close eye on Kylie, yet scanning the entire restaurant. Kylie hadn’t pinpointed where her stalker was, nor had she provided any other information about him. And that was dubious at best, but, if she was catching energy, it could be old energy, just that sensation of somebody having walked over your grave. It didn’t necessarily mean that her stalker was here right now, and that was yet another challenge.
As they went past an empty table, she stiffened and spun to look at it. Porter caught her by her shoulders and asked, “Here?”
She nodded. “Here.”
He nudged her forward to follow the hostess to their table just a little beyond. Then he asked the waitress, “Was somebody recently here at that table?”
She looked back and frowned. “Yes, he must have just left. I hadn’t even given him his food yet.” She walked back over to the table, where a large tip had been left, and she shrugged. “It happens sometimes.”
Porter asked, “I would appreciate if you could describe what he looked like. Can you?” She looked at him suspiciously, and he smiled. “I’m a cop, honest.”
At that, her suspicions grew even deeper, almost as if she wanted to protect the man who had left her such a substantial tip. After he produced his badge, she began in a fairly noncommittal tone, “Tall, slim, late forties, maybe early fifties, hard to tell. In good shape, very polite, friendly.” She shrugged. “That’s all I can tell you.”
“Beard, no beard, anything that made him stand out?”
“No,” she replied, as she placed the menus on their table. “I’ll be back in a few to get your order.” And, with that, she disappeared.
Porter turned to Kylie, sitting there, almost trembling, visible sweat on her face. “Do you need to leave?” he asked.
She lifted tortured eyes in his direction and whispered, “No, I’m scared to go out there.”
“Why?” he asked, leaning forward.
“I think he knew me,” she shared. “I think he recognized or sensed me or something.” She looked at Porter, the sweat glistening on her face. “Did you have any particular reason for picking this restaurant?”
He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. “No, it’s a place I love to come to.”
“I do too,” she replied, “at least I used to. I’m surprised you’re not outside chasing him down.”
“He’s already gone. Otherwise I would.”
She sagged into her chair. “What’s he doing here?” she whispered.
“I would hazard a guess and say that he was getting food. But, when we walked in, either he sensed us or saw you or me and decided it wasn’t a safe place to stay.”
“But I didn’t even see him go past us,” she muttered.
“True, but there are other pathways. If he had gone around the tables off to the side, you wouldn’t have seen him either.”
She looked around and then nodded. “I guess, but I don’t remember seeing anybody as we walked in.”
“No, but he doesn’t do what he does without having a lot of skill in making himself fairly innocuous.”
“I suppose,” she whispered. “Christ.” She raised a trembling hand to her forehead. “For a minute there I thought I would puke.”
“Better now?”
She looked up at him and whispered, “Yes, except for the fact that he knows I’m here, and it feels very much as if that was of interest to him.”
“So, you didn’t get a sense of fear from him?”
“God no, no fear,… but maybe something more dangerous.”
“What’s that?”
“Interest,” she stated, looking sick. “A very strong interest, as if he wanted to know more about me.”
“That would be an interesting scenario,” Porter muttered to himself, “but I’m not at all sure it would be a good one though.”
Her reaction was something he wasn’t particularly comfortable with. He’d never seen her like this. True, he didn’t know her all that well, but, up until now, she’d been fairly contained and completely capable of handling whatever was thrown her way.
Her stalker had sent lots of shock waves through her planned and ordinary life. At the moment she was still trying to deal with all that, and Porter understood. She’d held firm so far, and now he could tell from the look on her face that things were starting to get shakier. “Take a deep breath,” he suggested. “Just hold tight.”
“I don’t even know if we should stay,” she whispered, looking at him in shock. “Maybe we should just leave.”
“You still need to eat, and so do I,” he pointed out, “and our leaving won’t get that done.”
“Maybe,” she muttered, as she took a deep breath, then waved her hand dismissively. “Okay, I’m starting to feel better. Maybe just give me a few more minutes.”
When the waitress returned, instead of ordering wine or anything alcoholic, he ordered coffee for both of them and water for her. The waitress returned fairly quickly with both, and then they were left in silence again.
Kylie looked around cautiously. “His energy is so strong.”
“That’s another issue,” Porter noted. “Why is it so strong for you?”
She looked back at him. “Meaning that, once again, you think there’s a connection?”
“We already know there’s a connection.”
“I don’t like anything along this discussion. You know that.”
“Still, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s a discussion we need to have, considering that you are sensing this guy, when nobody knows what he looks like these days.”
She picked up her water glass and downed about half of it. Then she picked it up again and finished it.
“Easy on the water too,” he offered, not sure what any of this meant.
She stared at him. “Does the water matter?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but it seems to be a strong response, and I’m not sure why.”
She gave a broken laugh. “I don’t know either. I don’t know anything at this point. All I can tell you is that the man who killed both of those posed young women just walked out of here, and you didn’t care.”
“Oh, I care,” he clarified. “I also noted cameras in this place and cameras outside, so we can access those, as soon as you’re feeling better.”
She stared at him in shock, and then her shoulders slumped. “See? I’m just not cut out for this.”
“Why? Because you didn’t note the cameras? It’s not part of the work that you do,” he pointed out. “However, it is part of what I do.”
She took several deep breaths and then nodded. “I am feeling a bit better.” She glanced around. “I’m not sure staying here is a good idea though.”
“Do you think he’ll do something?”
She frowned. “Yes, he’ll do something, but I don’t think it’ll be here, and I don’t even think it’ll be now. I don’t know what he’s planning, but he’ll definitely do something.”
“Interesting,” Porter murmured, just a hair above total silence.
She stared at him. “You don’t have to believe me.”
“I do believe you,” he said. “I can sense your fear, and I can sense something shifting in the energy. I get an odd feeling to the place now.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “and it’s not a good feeling.”
He laughed. “I can understand that, but we also won’t run.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, with a wry look in his direction. “What if we step out of the restaurant right now, and he’s there, waiting to shoot us down?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “That’s a damn good point.” He pulled out his phone and motioned for her to stay. “I need to make a call.”
“Yeah, you go do that,” she said. “I’ll just sit right here and have a breakdown.”
He grinned. “You won’t do anything of the sort. You’re handling this like a real trooper.”
She shook her head. “You have no idea how nervous I am on the inside.”
“Nervous is good,” he replied, with a smile. “That means you’re being reasonable and sensible. We don’t want anybody going off half-cocked in this scenario.” He pointed. “I’ll just walk over there so I can make this call. You just stay put.”
She stared at him, her jaw working, and then she shrugged. “It’s not as if I have any place to go to that he doesn’t know about.”
He stared at her, realizing that she was fully expecting to have some repercussions from this. “Let’s not hang on to that thought. We’ll get through this. Let me make a call, and I promise I’ll be right back.” As he stood up, he added, “And order me the lasagna when she comes back, will you?”
And, with that, he walked to a coatroom area and quickly dialed Stefan.