Exposed by Rage Read online

  Tossing my notebook on the table, I began to jot down notes. What I had observed, what disturbed me about the scene, I had to log everything Kevin told me before I lost the conversation or twisted it. Old habits are hard to break. I might even make old Cravens proud of me if he was alive to see the investigator he’d created.

  Jillie had been tortured, something I hadn’t shared with Kevin. The pervert had carved on her like a hickory stick. A series of X’s were carved into her breast. He’d taken his time as he burned her face and broke her fingers. The fine wire that finished her, left at the scene, wrapped around her neck. I suspected the autopsy would show she had been aware of what was happening.

  Had he known no one would interfere with his work, or had he just not cared? The window was open. Jillie should have fought and screamed her throat raw. Had he drugged her? There had been a puncture wound in her neck. A needle? How else could he be sure no one was in the pool house or anywhere on the property to hear her? Had she let him in? I hadn’t found any signs of forced entry as I’d waited for Plano’s finest to show. The questions spun through my head. No answers surfaced.

  The waitress came over with a pot of coffee. The bill she laid down said it was time to leave. I don’t take hints very well. Looking around I could see there were youth sellers standing, waiting for a table. I wasn’t ready to give mine up.

  I read through my notes, hoping something would make sense. Why had Jillie suddenly asked me to come see her? What was it that was upsetting her enough to insist I come here? It would have been easy enough for her to come to Fort Polk. Louisiana wasn’t that far and she knew I hated coming back to Plano.

  She’d called and sounded off...more insistent than usual, but nothing to make me think she was afraid. It wasn’t unusual for her to call. It wasn’t unusual for her to ask me to come, knowing I normally wouldn’t. This time was different. She’d sent me a key to the house. In all the years of friendship, I had never had one before.

  “So do I call you Ms. Gibson, D...officer, or…” DeMarco slid into the booth opposite me.

  Closing my notebook, I waited for him to explain what he was doing here. The waiting wasn’t hard on my eyes. I looked DeMarco over, approving his wide shoulders, narrow hips and the ripple of muscles that couldn’t be contained by the suit jacket. Too bad he was with the police. We could have danced dirty and had a few laughs.

  A rugged face capped with thick sable brown hair housed dark rich pools of the ocean at midnight. Staring at me. Waiting for me to break the silence.

  “Did you learn anything from Miss Favor’s...friend?”

  As I said, I don’t respond to well to the wishes of others. I had spent two years working up to MP and after that I continued doing what I was told, following orders, working from someone else’s book of rules. Jillie’s death meant I wouldn’t be signing up for another tour; in fact I would resign to make sure the bastard that murdered her was caught.

  The silence became tedious. A quick nod was all the conversation I was prepared to give. A crooked smile spread across his lips.

  I slid the notebook into my purse and started to stand. I’d eaten what I could. The elevator waiting area was free of business attired humanoids. I had a nice bed waiting for me after a long hot shower to wash off the day. I couldn’t hide a tight smile when he gave up the silent treatment.

  “You win. I don’t appreciate you talking to my suspects and setting them up so they know what questions I’m going to ask.”

  “I didn’t talk to your suspect. I talked to my friend.”

  “Your friend I should have questioned first.”

  “So shall we play ring around the Rosie? I can’t believe you came here to tell me you’re outraged. A quick phone call would have sufficed.”

  The sound he made could have been a growl, I wasn’t certain.

  “I’m not getting a lot of cooperation from Ms. Favor’s friends. They seem to think I’m the enemy.”

  “You are. I bet you can count on an amputee’s fingers the times you or your buddies have rushed to assist any of them.”

  “This isn’t about them. It’s about your friend who was murdered.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “So, are you going to give me a hard time? Thought you’d be willing to help. You know them. Are one of them.”

  He really should have stopped before he uttered those last four words.

  “No. I’m not. I have things to do.” I scribbled my name and room on the check, handed it to the startled waitress and walked away.

  3

  He was leaning against the wall when I finally opened the door to the hallway. I knew he wouldn’t leave just because I was ignoring him. I’d left him to rethink his attitude while I washed away the grime of the day.

  “Have a seat. I made coffee if you’d like some.” I didn’t wait for him to answer just poured a cup and set it in front of him.

  “Not going to offer me cream and sugar?” DeMarco asked. “Try to sweeten my mood?”

  “Would it help?”

  He shook his head and gave me a lopsided grin.

  “So, what do you want, DeMarco? I told you everything I know about Jillie’s murder. I told you about her friends, boyfriend, job.”

  “All true. However, you haven’t told me why you’re here. Why you had a key.”

  “We’re...we were friends. I came to visit.”

  “You said she called, wanted you here. Why?”

  “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

  “So she didn’t tell you what was wrong?”

  “No, just made it clear she wanted me to come to town.”

  “What about Kevin...” He reached into his pocket for his notebook.

  “Kevin Stephens. Don’t let his size and looks fool you. He loved her, worshipped her, really, and was going to ask her to marry him.”

  “A bouncer at a titty bar, going to ask a porn star to marry him.” The disdain dripped thickly from his words.

  “See, that’s exactly why they won’t talk to you. You think their jobs, former jobs, define who they are.” My temper flared. “Jillie didn’t do porn any longer and was running a legitimate business.”

  “Strip club. Legitimate.”

  I was sure he’d catch fire from the flames shooting from my eyes.

  “Okay. I didn’t mean...”

  I cut him off. “Intent has about as much value as counterfeit money. It appears real but no matter what you do it’s still a fake.”

  “Truce...”

  “Look, I’m tired. It’s been a hell of a day and I need to try to set things aside for a while. I’d like you to leave.”

  He nodded and walked to the door. “Ms. Gibson. Ashley. I’m sorry your friend died. I really want to find her killer.”

  What he meant was he was willing to use me to get to the suspect pool. Well, that street went both ways. I could use him just as well.

  * * * *

  At zero five hundred I threw the covers off and gave up the idea of trying for more sleep. What little sleep had come left me drained. The pictures rolling behind closed eyes weren’t remnants of sweet dreams. The sound of something slipping under my door drew my attention. I opened the door to see who had made the delivery. The hallway was empty.

  DeMarco’s note, scrawled across the face of the package, was short. “Knew you would want these” Inside was a DVD, color prints, and black and white photos from Jillie’s. I took several deep breaths before I began to lay them out on the floor.

  The photo tech knew his craft. He started outside the fence, circled the house as he carefully worked his way through to Jillie’s bedroom. I had to give the cops credit, everything looked just as it did when I had followed the same path. The Plano uniforms knew how to stay out and keep the scene intact.

  The photos were crisp, clean shots of the house, the hallway, the bedroom, and Jillie. No fancy angles, just straight simple photography. The color shots were hard to look at so I turned my attention to the black an
d whites. It was easier to see past the victim and look for clues left behind by the killer. I was hoping I would spot something dramatic. Jillie had an obsessive need for order. When I could find nothing I wanted to drive my fist through the wall.

  When the telephone on the table beside the bed rang, the clock showed I’d been immersed in the crime scene for over three hours. I wasn’t surprised to find DeMarco on the other end of the conversation.

  “I hope you got the photos. I had Braden drop them off, thought you’d like that.”

  “I’m sure he was thrilled and it explains why he didn’t stop to talk.”

  “Have you had a chance to look at them?”

  “For several hours. Don’t see anything that points me in any direction.”

  “A long shot to think they might, but worth a try. So what’s your schedule today?”

  “Why, you want to tag along?” He’d told me he wanted my help but I hadn’t believed him.

  “I’m sure there are people on your list I want to talk to.”

  “Maybe, where do you want to start?”

  “With Jillie’s partner.”

  Not the one I really wanted to see first thing. My mother was Jillie’s partner and to be honest I wouldn’t give a damn if I never saw her again. “Trixie. You really want me to go with you?”

  “Yes, I think people will talk more openly if you’re there.”

  “I doubt she will, but give me twenty minutes to get ready and I’ll meet you there.”

  “No reason to take your car. I’m in the lobby,” he said and hung up.

  4

  I hesitated to reveal my connection to the woman we were going to see. I assumed DeMarco thought I knew her through Jillie. Everyone knows what happens when you assume. I thought I had a good memory, but his was better.

  DeMarco smiled as I got in the passenger seat. “You don’t remember me, do you?

  “Remember you? From where?”

  I was in your English class in high school. Not that you were here long, but I never forgot you.

  I studied him, but nothing popped. He hadn’t been one of the bullies so I guess that’s why I didn’t remember him. “So you know who I am.” I controlled the emotions I felt, the ever stalwart target of bigotry.” It was inhumane, reminding me of those early days in school. DeMarco just had to pour salt on the wound.

  “Yes. I always felt bad for you back then, so many people were cruel over something you had no choice in.”

  He really seemed to mean what he said—maybe I didn’t need to be so cautious around him—but only time would tell.

  I forced myself to remain still, when what I really wanted was to escape the car. “I haven’t seen Trix in two years. Not sure my being with you will gain you any favors.”

  He glanced at me, “Sorry. I didn’t think how uncomfortable this might be for you. I would like you to go in with me, but if you don’t—“

  “I knew where we were going and came with you. You don’t need to let me off the hook.” We pulled into the drive and I gave DeMarco the pass code to the gate. Security conscious as Trixie claimed to be, she hadn’t changed my private code since I left home eight years ago.

  The gates folded back silently as we rolled up the long drive. The house looked down on us from the top of a small hill. The current defense force, two muscular pretty boy toys, descended the front steps as we pulled up to the door. DeMarco started to reach for his identification, but I stopped him. It wouldn’t be necessary. Trixie always made sure her pets recognized me on sight even though I hadn’t seen her in more than two years.

  “Mizzz Ashley,” toy number one spoke with an artificial southern drawl, “Miz Trixie is waiting for ya’ in the atrium.”

  Toy Two remained silent as he opened the front door.

  Inside, little had changed. The walls, floors, carpets and most of furniture were blinding white, littered by the bodies of Trixie’s current entourage of raunchy stars and starlets. I didn’t wait for DeMarco to catch up, nor did I pause to gage his reaction.

  The atrium was really just a large enclosed sunroom with a few plants scattered about. Trixie stood across the room by the French doors that opened to the pool.

  “Ashley,” Trixie said in that velvet voice that had been almost as famous as her sex goddess body.

  The man who had been talking to her turned around.

  "Ashley. Honey. Surprised to see you. Thought you tried to stay away from all us por...noggg...ra...phers," A smirk spread across the man’s face.

  George Tyler, camera operator. The stuff his camera recorded was trash, and unlike the performers I knew, this guy had barely crawled out of the primeval ooze. I don’t get that spidery tingle along my spine often, but it always happens when he’s around.

  So why was he here? Trixie used his camera when necessary but never in Plano.

  George strutted toward me. "Tough news about Jilliebean, huh?"

  If he was trying to sound sympathetic, he failed miserably.

  “George, come with me.” Trixie walked into the hall, expecting the slime to follow. She didn’t appear curious why I was there and ignored DeMarco. For me the treatment was typical, and if forced to admit it, a little hurtful. I was surprised at DeMarco’s treatment. Trixie rarely missed an opportunity to turn on her blinding, dentist-enhanced smile when a guy was as DeMarco hot as was around

  “One of her employees?” Demarco watched Trixie and the sleaze from the doorway.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice. I was afraid he would hear the hate I felt.

  Trix finished her business, giving me the same disapproving look she had when I was a child and failed to meet her fashion expectation. I was waiting for her to tell me I would be whatever it was she wanted me to be, if only I would do this or do that.

  “Mrs. Dix,. I’m Detective DeMarco.” His voice was steel as he stepped between us flashing his badge. “I understand you and Ms. Favor were partners in several businesses. Do you know of any reason someone would want her dead?”

  I have to admit, at five foot seven, blonde hair cascading down her back, and in the slinky sequin covered floor-length dress she wore, the woman was blindingly beautiful when she turned on the charm. Of course she only did that when she wanted to control the meeting.

  “I’m afraid I have been rude, would you care for coffee? I’ll have some delivered to us in the library.”

  Misdirection. DeMarco didn’t take the bait.

  “Thank you, but I just have a few questions, it won’t take long. Ms. Favor called your daughter and asked her to come home. Do you know why?”

  Trixie looked at me instead of DeMarco. “No, I haven’t had much contact with my daughter, as I’m sure she’s told you. Jillie was closer to her, but didn’t talk about her if she could avoid it.”

  Angry voices interrupted. Two of the people who had been in the front room as we passed were now standing in the foyer, yelling at each other. From here it was hard to tell what the argument was about, but it was enough to make it impossible to keep Trixie’s attention. She withdrew to settle the disagreement, and temporarily put an end to DeMarco’s questions.

  Even when the disturbance had been quieted, she didn’t return.

  DeMarco, shaking his head, gave a wry laugh. “Any idea where she disappeared to? She needs to show a little respect.”

  “We can look around. I didn’t see her go up the stairs.” I admit I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of DeMarco. The look on his face made the hair on my neck stand at attention.

  We found her in her office, and as we entered the room she hung up the call she was making.

  “Sorry to have left you that way,” she purred. “I had to take care of an important issue before it got out of hand.”

  “I don’t generally appreciate people ignoring me when I ask them a question. So if it’s convenient,” DeMarco said, “I’d like to know who may have been willing to murder your partner.”

  Trixie sat back in her chair studying the detective. “It was
n’t me,” she said with a small smile. “I don’t’ know anyone who would do such a thing. Jillie was my partner on paper only, as I told you before, we didn’t see a lot of each other.”

  “Did Jillie have other partners? Money problems? Angry former employees or boyfriends? Anything you can think of would be helpful.”

  Trixie just shook her head.

  DeMarco continued. “Or maybe you’ve heard rumors about changes in your--industry that might have led to something like this?”

  Trixie clenched her teeth before answering. “Detective, I can tell by your voice you have disdain for what I do, but just because I work with people who are different than the small minded citizens of this city, doesn’t mean any of them are capable of murder.”

  “Take some time and think about it—my partner, Detective Braden and several others will be here shortly. I want to interview everyone here. Don’t hesitate to tell him if you think of anything.” Turning to me, he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more and wasted no time returning to the car. However I was pretty sure DeMarco wasn’t planning to let Trixie just walk away. He’d be back and I was forced to admit he appeared to know what he was doing. If he had gotten in Trixie’s face should would have shut down for good, this way he gave her enough room to think she won the day

  A woman ran down the steps as DeMarco started the car, and knocked on my passenger side window. The Lady Eve, one physco messed-up chick.

  “Ashley, I am so sorry. I know you loved Jillie,” Eve murmured.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I hardly knew Eve, and what I knew about her was both sad and appalling.

  “Thank you, Eve,” was perhaps an inadequate reply but all that came to mind.

  “Was she really tortured? Was it horrible?” Eve’s eyes grew wide. She appeared excited.