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Chapter

Four

“You think it could be him?” Florence asked her partner as they stood outside the interview room looking at the angry man sitting inside it waiting for them.

“His girlfriend seems to think it could be,” Jake replied.

If the man’s partner thought that there was a possibility that he was the Dumpster Killer, a man who had killed fifteen women now since he’d dumped a body the night he’d tried to run her over, then it was something they needed to look into.

The sketch from the owner of the car yard that had rented the car under the table had been plastered all over the news.

Of all the calls they’d received from people saying they thought they knew the man in the sketch, this one had seemed to be the most promising lead.

Justin Bates was twenty-nine years old, he had an ex-wife who was the mother of his four children, worked as a plumber, and was currently involved with his high school sweetheart who he’d reunited with after his divorce.

His wife had moved across the country after they’d split up to be closer to her family, and had full custody of the children.

Not only had Justin not fought to keep his kids in his life, he was currently around ten thousand dollars in arrears in child support.

There were several drunk and disorderly, drunk driving, and assault charges on his record. When they’d spoken with his boss when they’d gone in to pick Justin up to bring him in for questioning, they’d learned that the man had a major problem with women.

Complaints filled Justin's personnel file. Almost every house he’d gone to do work in where there was a single woman home alone at the time his boss had received a phone call complaining that Justin had been inappropriate with them.

Of course the first thing she’d asked was why Justin hadn't been fired. The answer was that the company was owned by his uncle who felt obligated to keep Justin employed, given that he had four children who needed food, and clothes, and a roof over their heads. His uncle had been surprised that Justin had found a woman to marry him, and even more surprised that he’d gotten back with his high school girlfriend, and seemed to share her concerns that Justin—who clearly had a violent streak and a problem with women—could be the killer.

Right now, they didn't have anything that would get them a warrant to check out Justin’s apartment, or his computer, phone, or bank accounts, they would have to hope that they could get him to slip up and say something incriminating or for CSU to find some forensics that would connect him to the crimes.

“Let’s go in and see if we can get him to give anything up,” she said as she pushed open the door. “Good evening, Mr. Bates. I'm Detective Harris, and this is my partner, Detective Zeus, we’re here to ask you some questions.”

The look Justin gave her was dripping with condescension, it was clear the idea of being interrogated by a woman did not sit well with him.

Since she and Jake had been working together for years now, they didn't have to verbalize anything for them to decide that they would get more out of him if she led the interview. He would be so busy trying to prove that he was smarter than her that he’d be more likely to slip up and say something he shouldn’t.

“What kind of questions?” Justin addressed his question to Jake.

“Do you own a car, Mr. Bates?” she asked as both she and Jake ignored his question.

“This is Manhattan, hardly anyone owns a car,” he snapped, still refusing to look at her when he spoke.

“So, if you needed a car, you'd have to rent one, correct?”

“Why would I need a car?”

“For argument’s sake, let’s just say you did need a car, you’d have to hire it from somewhere, correct?”

“I suppose,” Justin huffed.

“Have you rented a car lately, Mr. Bates?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. But he answered a little too quickly for her liking.

“Where were you three nights ago, Mr. Bates?”

The man gave a disinterested shrug. “Home with my girlfriend, I guess.”

“That’s not what she said,” Florence informed the man. “According to her, you left after dinner and were gone until the early hours of the morning. Where did you go?”

“I was home,” he insisted. “If Kyla said differently, then she’s a liar.”

“Why would she lie about you not being home three nights ago?” she pressed. “What was so special about three nights ago that she would bother to lie about that night in particular?”

“I don’t know why women do the things they do, but I do know they lie,” he growled, throwing a glare her way.

“Let’s say you were out somewhere that night,” she continued, unfazed by his outburst. It certainly wasn't the first time a suspect had yelled at her, in fact she’d been on the receiving end of much worse. “Where would you be?”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere. You suggesting that I'm cheating on my woman?” Justin looked like the thought was outrageous.

“Personally, men who cheat are pretty low in my opinion, right up there with men who abandon their kids, but no you’re not here in a police station being interviewed because you might be cheating on your girlfriend.

You’re here because we want to know if you killed anyone.

So, Mr. Bates, are you a cheater, or a killer, or just a child abandoner?

” Men who made children but didn't stick around to look after them were one of the things she hated the most. Her own father had skipped out on her, her brother, and her mom before she was even a year old.

Because of that, her entire childhood had been a living nightmare.

One thing she had learned in her career as a cop was to be prepared for anything.

That was the only reason that she reacted in time.

Justin Bates launched across the table, which was thankfully bolted into place, or it probably would have connected with her before she could move out of the way, and lunged for her.

She and Jake reacted simultaneously, she grabbed Justin’s arm and twisted it up behind his back, eliciting a howl of pain from him, and slammed him into the wall as Jake snapped a pair of handcuffs on.

“You think you can talk to me like that, woman ?” Justin bellowed as they opened the door and dragged him into the hall, fighting against them every step of the way.

“You’re what’s wrong with the world. Women like you who don’t know their place.

You think you can tell a man what to do.

Women belong in the house, cooking and cleaning and taking care of their man.

I bet you don’t even have a man. Who would want a woman like you? ”

With that final statement, he shoved his bodyweight sideways, throwing her into the wall. Her broken wrist got caught between her body and the wall, and she hissed as pain sliced through the limb.

Cops filled the hallway, dragging Justin away from her and down toward a holding cell where he would be kept until he was taken off to jail, charged with assaulting a police officer, which would hopefully get them the warrants they needed to look closer into his life.

“You think you can get away with treating men like this?” Justin screamed at her. “Sooner or later you’ll get what you deserve. Someone will wipe that smug smirk off your face.”

“You okay?” Jake asked.

“Fine, I've had worse.”

“What was that all about?”

Florence jumped at the silky, smooth voice behind her. Just hearing it had her insides turning to melted butter, and her lips tingled just remembering the kiss they had shared last night.

That kiss had kept her up half the night as she obsessed about whether or not she should trust Eli enough to give him a chance.

“It was nothing,” she said, not wanting to get into a discussion on what had just happened. In her life it really was nothing.

“It didn't sound like nothing. It sounded like that man was threatening you.” Eli’s hands clamped—albeit gently—around her shoulders and turned her to face him. Protectiveness was oozing out of him, and she had to roll her eyes at him.

“You remind me of my brother.”

“Excuse me?” Eli looked aghast at the prospect. “That is not what a man who was kissing you just twenty-four hours ago wants to hear.”

“Relax, Romeo, that’s not what I meant. I didn't say that I wasn't attracted to you. It’s just the protectiveness, you're just like Fletcher. You know I am trained, I know what I'm doing, this isn’t the first time a suspect has threatened me.”

“You're attracted to me?” Eli was grinning at her like an idiot.

“I thought we already established that last night.”

“You mean when I kissed you?” His arm circled her waist, and he drew her up against him.

As it always did when he touched her, her heart began to beat a frantic rhythm in her chest, and she became hyper-aware of every part of her body that Eli touched.

He lowered his head, his lips hovered just above hers, she could feel his warm breath, and she tilted her head to bring him closer.

Just when she thought he was going to kiss her, he spoke instead, “Can I drive you home?”

Surprised and disappointed, that he hadn't kissed her or even asked her out on another date, Florence quickly stamped down the feelings. She was the one who had consistently turned him down, she shouldn’t be surprised that he had finally decided to take her at her word.

Why should she expect him to fight for her when she hadn't been sure she was willing to fight for herself?

No one in her life had fought for her.

Even her brother had left to go to college, leaving her behind in that hellhole.

Eli wasn't any different.

No man was different.

6:37 P.M.

Vulnerability was obvious in Florence’s sky blue eyes, but somehow Eli knew she wouldn’t want to know that he could read her so easily.

“You leaving now?” he asked, releasing his hold on her but claiming her hand.