Scream for Your Life

by

C. M. Sutter

Copyright © 2024

All Rights Reserved

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This book is a work of fiction by C. M. Sutter. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used solely for entertainment. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

C. M. Sutter is a crime fiction author who resides in Tampa, Florida.

With more than forty books published in the thriller and crime fiction genres, she can often be found with a laptop in hand and writing at every opportunity.

Gardening, walking, playing with her dog, creating handmade soaps, and traveling the world are a few of her favorite pastimes.

C. M. Sutter

http://cmsutter.com/

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Scream for Your Life

Detective Mitch Cannon-Savannah Heat Thriller Series, Book 6

Savannah is haunted by another Jane Doe murder, and Detectives Mitch Cannon and Devon Rue find a single dangly earring as their only clue. The next day, Katie Woods, who’s new in Savannah, contacts them after waking bloodied and beaten in her ransacked apartment.

Mitch and Devon arrive to take her statement and inspect the scene. Katie claims she went out Sunday evening to have supper and search for employment. Those plans turned into a nightmare when she woke the next day, saw her condition, and realized she had no memory of the previous night.

While inspecting Katie’s apartment, the detectives discover an earring matching the one found at the crime scene. That discovery casts doubt on Katie’s story. Is she a cunning killer playing a dangerous game with the police, or is she another victim who narrowly escaped the same fate as Jane Doe?

As Mitch and Devon dig deeper, they uncover far more than they had expected. Now they need to determine Katie’s true role in the crime before another life is taken.

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Chapter 1

Katie had lived in Savannah for only a week. After a family vacation there two years ago, she’d realized that the Hostess City of the South was the place she wanted to call home. The locals were welcoming, and the city had called out “Come and stay! You’ll love it here!” and now she did.

Savannah was a far cry from Katie’s hometown of Detroit, where she was born and raised. Leaving her parents, one sister, and close friends was hard, but they were only a two-hour flight away.

The Southern charm, sweet tea, delicious food, and ghostly history just added to the appeal of the city. Katie was in her element.

Katie couldn’t complain about the weather, not yet anyway. She’d been forewarned that the summers were hot and humid, but she had a good six months before that would be an issue. It was currently November, and because of the beautiful weather, she found it easy to forget that the northern states were already feeling the chill of the upcoming winter. For them, months of cold, ice, and snow lay ahead.

I’m done with that. It’s time to reinvent myself, make friends here, and find a decent-paying but fun job.

She was happy with her decision, and from the weather to the culture, the differences in Detroit and Savannah were beyond description.

After a week of hotel living, Katie had found an affordable furnished studio apartment on West Bay Street, only a block off the bus line. Once she scored a job, she could either walk or take the bus, depending on the location. Luckily, she had saved money for a year to help establish herself after the move. The apartment was a mere five hundred square feet, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be on the first floor, too, and that convenience alone made the size insignificant. It was the Savannah experience she wanted, and she hoped to spend a lot of time outside anyway.

Maybe I can be a tour guide, restaurant hostess, waitress, or bartender. Before long, I’ll meet someone who will turn out to be a good friend. In time, there might be the chance of getting a larger place with a roommate.

Katie had it all figured out. With her clothes hung and the furniture arranged to her liking, it was time to pound the pavement, find a job, socialize, and meet her neighbors.

She already missed her family and friends in Detroit, but she loved adventure, was brave, and would take on anything a new location threw her way. Katie didn’t want to stay in one city for her entire life. Many of her friends had never traveled farther than Chicago.

That’s not me. I want to experience everything Savannah has to offer. Eventually, there will be other places and people in my life, but for now, Savannah will be perfect.

After she spent the afternoon filling out online applications for jobs in Savannah and neighboring towns, it was time for supper.

She needed to freshen up before leaving. In the bathroom, Katie brushed her teeth and her long brown hair then reapplied mascara, blush, and lip gloss. She double-checked her look in the mirror and gave her reflection a smile. She looked great. After a last-minute decision to wear a pair of cute dangly earrings she had recently bought, Katie grabbed her purse and locked the door at her back as she left. The sun was setting, and the evening was calm with a slight breeze off the river. People milled about looking for a good restaurant for their evening meal. Katie couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She walked along East River Street, through the historic district, then to West Broughton Street to check out the supper options. If she was lucky, she might find a cool place with a Help Wanted sign in the window.

The sound of music wafted down the street. She continued on until she found the origin of the song—a tour kiosk. The man in the booth was playing music through his phone, likely to attract customers.

Katie approached the booth and chuckled. “You fooled me. I thought there was a live band playing in a nightclub or restaurant.”

The man engaged her in conversation. “I’ll tell you where to find live music tonight, but first, you have to listen to my tour pitch.”

She laughed again. “Okay, you got me. Go ahead and give me the details and my tour options.”

“First, have a water. I’m a full believer in staying hydrated.” He turned his back for a minute then twisted off the cap before handing her the water. “Here you go. It’s on the house.” He went on to explain the riverboat cruise, the late-night cemetery tours, the ghost tours, and the trolley tours through the city, noting the historical sites and homes.

“Sounds cool. I think I’d be most interested in the ghost tours, and I’d like the brochure on that.”

He gave it to her along with several others for her consideration.

“I do have a question for you before you give me your restaurant and nightclub picks.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Is your company hiring?”

He scratched his cheek. “Maybe, but I’d have to run that by my father to be sure. I’m only filling in here because the guy who usually works this booth called in sick.”

“So your father owns the business?”

“Yes, but I’m managing it. He’s taking a break for a while. We have four tour locations and actually a lot of employees already.”

“But I could start as soon as tomorrow, and this location is only a few blocks from my apartment.”

“You don’t have a job now?”

Katie beamed. “I finally moved out of my parents’ house and left Motor City.”

“Motor City?”

“Yeah, Detroit. I love Savannah, found an apartment on Bay Street, and moved in today. Now I’m ready to start a job.” She giggled. “I guess I should ask what you pay your employees before I put myself out there.”

“Most employees in the tour industry get a base salary plus commission depending on how many tour tickets they sell. The base is seven dollars an hour, but if you’re a hustler and interact well with people, you can make a couple hundred bucks a day.”

“Really?”

“Yep, really, but I can’t guarantee you a wage. Most of that is up to you.”

“I’m a great communicator. How about the people who do the tours? Do they make more?”

“Sure. They make an hourly wage—sixteen bucks an hour.” He held up his hands. “No guarantees about job availability. Like I said, I’ll have to talk to my father first.” He handed her a card from his shirt pocket. “Come to our office at eleven o’clock tomorrow, and I’ll let you know if we have any openings.”

Katie looked at the card. “Nice company name—Savannah’s Best Specialty Tours. I bet your competition doesn’t like that name, but honestly, it makes me want to take a tour myself.”

“And that’s the point.”

With a handshake, Katie thanked him. “Okay, so how about those restaurants and clubs with music picks?”

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder and told her his favorites on West Broughton Street, and she was on her way.

Chapter 2

Ten minutes later, Katie entered Squirrel’s Nest, an eclectic restaurant that looked like fun. The place was packed, and her only option was to sit at the bar to enjoy her supper. She wasn’t accustomed to dining alone anyway, and she wouldn’t look so conspicuously single at the bar. A couple had just finished their drinks, so she took one of the two empty seats.

Katie caught the attention of the female bartender, who looked about the same age as her, early twenties, and ordered the seafood special and a beer. “So, are you guys hiring?”

“Heck no.” The woman chuckled. “Everyone loves working here.” She waved to a group of young people who had just walked in. “This place is one of the busiest and most well-known restaurants in Savannah. The customers rave about it.”

“Wow, now I’m jealous.”

The woman reached across the bar and shook her hand. “I’m Leslie.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Katie. Anyway, I’m new in town and looking for a job. Know of any other fun place that’s hiring?”

Leslie grinned. “You might have luck at Woody’s Dive Bar. It’s a few blocks north of here.”

“Hmm… That’s even closer to my apartment than the tour kiosk down the street.”

Leslie shook her head. “You don’t want to work in that environment. You have to bust ass to make any money at all since it’s mostly based on commission. These days, before they come to Savannah, a lot of people buy package deals that include tours already. Plus, the guys who own most of those kiosks are as shady as hell. You should avoid them like the plague. I’ve heard that they sell drugs out of those kiosks. They’re just a nasty family.”

“Really? The guy in the booth seemed nice enough.”

“Smoke and mirrors. They’re nice until they hook a sale, then the customer gets substandard service. The tours start late, and they cut corners. That family is bad news.”

“I didn’t get that vibe.”

Leslie laughed. “The company was a respectable business built by the grandfather back in the sixties. Fast-forward to now, and the son and grandson have ruined everything. They run the tour company with threats and dirty dealings. Other tour groups have a hard time competing with them and their shenanigans.”

“Sounds like you know them pretty well.”

Leslie cocked her head. “We’ve had serious differences on many occasions, and they’re criminals with a capital C even though they don’t have to be. That family has plenty of money, but it’s never been enough. Criminal enterprises pay well for the Hines family, and it’s how the father and son roll. They want to run Savannah. Plus, you wouldn’t make nearly the money you could at a restaurant or bar. Try that route, and if you stick around and do well, you’ll probably get promoted, which means more money plus insurance benefits and vacation. You’ll never get that working in a kiosk.”

“Good advice. Well, either way, I need to find a job.”

“Seriously, try Woody’s. That place is always hopping, and the staff is a lot of fun.”

After a delicious supper and thanking Leslie for the advice, Katie continued north toward Woody’s. She took a swig of water from the bottle she’d received earlier.

The closer she got to the bar, the more her heart thumped in her chest. She finally reached Woody’s and saw patrons enjoying the beer garden, where the band played loudly. She stood just beyond the wrought iron gate and watched the lively crowd weaving back and forth to the music. A group of women danced with their drinks in hand, but they had begun to go in and out of focus. People became blurry, and Katie teetered as she turned to enter the building.

What’s going on?

She chalked up her dizziness to dehydration. After pulling the water bottle from her purse again, she guzzled what remained then tossed the bottle into the trash can. She entered the bar and stood just inside the door for a few seconds so she could get her bearings and let her eyes adjust to the dark space. The inside was as crowded as the beer garden. The interior had a mishmash of pirate decor, nautical buoys, and tin advertising signs. The horseshoe-shaped bar seated at least thirty people, and a dozen high-top tables spread from the back of the bar to the oversized front windows.

A group of four left the bar just as Katie entered. She headed that way and sat down.

The bartender walked over, placed a coaster in front of her, and nodded. “What’s your pleasure, miss?”

Katie said hello, asked for a gin and tonic, then slowly turned her barstool and took in the vibe of Woody’s.

“I really like this place.” Katie turned around, scooted in closer, and thanked the bartender for the drink. She wiped away the perspiration that had popped up on her forehead.

“Yeah, there’s always something going on here. That’s for sure. Woody’s is known for its crazy and fun-loving clientele.”

“Would you guys happen to be hiring?”

He grimaced. “If we are, it would only be on a part-time basis. Filling in when someone calls in sick or takes a day off. We don’t have any full-time openings right now. Sorry.”

“Shoot. Part-time wouldn’t pay my bills.”

“Wrong time of year too. Even though the weather is better in the winter, people seem to vacation in the summer no matter where they’re from. Kids are out of school, that sort of thing. Plus, spring break is still five months away.”

Katie squeezed her temples. “Maybe I need to find an office job instead of something in hospitality.” She looked to her right as someone sat on the empty barstool next to her.

“We meet again.”

She pulled back. “Oh, hi. You hang out here?”

“Of course. It’s the happening place. You still looking for a job?”

“Gotta try, and this place looks fun.”

“What about the kiosk? My dad said it was okay with him.”

“Really?”

He tipped his head at the bartender and ordered a beer. “Yep, really.”

“Can I get back to you on that tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Just come to the address on the card I gave you. You’d have to fill out paperwork anyway.” He pointed his chin at her glass. “What are you drinking?”

“Gin and tonic.”

The man waved down the bartender. “She’ll have another drink.”

Katie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not ready yet. This one is still half full.”

She grinned at the guy sitting next to her, although she still hadn’t asked his name. She didn’t want to seem forward, yet he seemed nice, and the fact that he was good-looking didn’t hurt.

She propped up her chin with her fist as the conversation flowed, mostly about him. Time slipped by until Katie didn’t have a clue about anything anymore. She swayed on the barstool then turned her wobbly head to the right. Her new friend was gone. Katie searched the bar area and squinted to clear her blurry eyes. Confusion spread across her face.

“Where did my friend go?” Katie asked, her speech slurred.

The bartender shook his head. “He left ten minutes ago while you were checked out. Drink too much tonight?”

“No. What? I only had two drinks all night.”

“Doesn’t look that way. How about I call you a ride home?”

“No, thanks. I only live a few blocks from here. I can find my way.” She fumbled with her purse.

The bartender held up his hands. “Your gin and tonic was paid for by your friend. You’re good to go. Be careful walking home.”

“Okay, thanks.” Katie slid off the stool and stumbled to the door.

Chapter 3

Monday morning came, and after our regular updates, Royce flagged down Rue and me. A garbage truck driver had discovered a dead female lying next to a dumpster in an alley. Patrol was already on scene and had taped off the area. Royce said Forensics was on their way, and Tapper Lowe, our county coroner, and his assistant, Terry Freeman, had already arrived.

Royce wanted us there—it was an obvious homicide, he’d said. According to Lowe, the woman looked to have been beaten, and she had a large gash across her forehead.

It was nine o’clock when Rue and I arrived at the unnamed alley that served only two purposes. The street-facing stores had back doors that opened to the alley where the dumpsters were kept, and trucks unloaded their deliveries from the alley.

That alley between West Broughton Street and West Congress Lane was several blocks long. The crime scene located east of Whitaker Street was behind West Broughton, barely a hundred feet into the alley itself.

Rue parked on Broughton, a half block west of the taped-off area. We walked the rest of the way, gave the officers a nod as we ducked under the tape, then approached the third dumpster, where we saw our forensic team and the county coroner.

Perpendicular to the dumpster lay a mound on the dirty asphalt, a white paper sheet covering it. I knelt, and with a gloved hand, lifted the sheet and looked at the woman lying beneath it. Rue peered over my shoulder.

I pulled back and whistled. The woman’s forehead had a huge gash in it, and her face was so swollen it made her unidentifiable. The bruising told me I knew she hadn’t died immediately. I looked over my shoulder at Billy Tremont from Forensics. “Print her yet?”

“Yep. Nothing on file.”

“Damn. How about a purse with an ID?”

“Nothing, sir, only the body and this.”

Billy passed me an evidence bag that contained one dangly earring. I looked at the woman again. Her ears were pierced, and she wore post-style earrings.

“This obviously isn’t her earring. Did you find the second one, and how far was this earring from the body?” I pushed off my knee and stood.

“The earring was within a foot of the deceased. We didn’t see any other, and it doesn’t look old, like someone would have tossed it at the dumpster and missed. It looks brand-new.”

“Hmm…” I rubbed my chin. “Make sure to test it for DNA and prints.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rue approached Tapper, who stood along the wall while writing on his clipboard. I tagged along.

“What’s the verdict, Tapper?” Rue asked.

“She’s in full rigor, and the garbage man found her at seven a.m. I’d say this happened between ten p.m. and one a.m. last night. I’ll check her internal temperature once I get her on the table and hopefully narrow down that time frame. As far as COD?” He raked his hair. “There aren’t any visible stab or gunshot wounds. I don’t see signs of strangulation—no periorbital petechiae in her eyes—so I have to go with that forehead injury and being severely beaten. Her skull is probably cracked at the hairline. It’s odd, though.”

I took my turn. “What part?”

“This isn’t an isolated location, and beating someone is noisy, especially if they scream. This doesn’t sit right with me, but maybe the tox report will shed some light. The woman might have been under the influence of something and then possibly was blindsided. Some of the blows could have been delivered after she was unconscious. Because her belongings are gone, I’d say it was an intended robbery, and what better place to do it than here, off the main streets.”

Rue nodded. “The bars do get noisy, though, especially if there’s live music. Maybe her cries for help went unheard. Appreciate it, Tapper, and you’ll get us your report as soon as you have it?”

“You bet.”

I looked around, but alleys didn’t typically have building-mounted cameras. Alleys were simply alleys that contained nothing but dumpsters and idling trucks when deliveries were made. Obviously, an occasional crime was committed, but we had never seen a murder happen in such a highly populated area. Alleys were dark, though, and if the woman was struck quickly, she might not have had time to scream for help.

We had seen all we needed to at the site. Forensics would print the area, collect blood evidence from the dumpster where her forehead injury could have taken place, take a few more pictures, and fill us in when they had all their data. Same with Tapper.

Rue and I left the alley and stood at the intersection of Whitaker and West Broughton Streets. We looked in all directions and saw stores, restaurants, and clubs. At the time of the murder, nobody would have been in the stores since all of them would have been closed. Restaurants typically closed at ten o’clock unless they had a bar, and that would be the only part serving anything. Bars and clubs closed nightly between one and three o’clock but earlier on Sundays. Currently, none were open. Our night shift detectives would have to take care of talking to staff later.

We would return to the station a short eight blocks away then check to see if any woman had been reported missing. The problem with that was she could be a tourist, and we wouldn’t know. If she was and had arrived in Savannah alone, then nobody in her hometown or state might even know that something had happened. If her loved ones or friends couldn’t reach her, it would likely take a few days before we were contacted.

Back at the precinct, we updated Royce then headed to our desks. We looked through the most recent missing person’s report, and nothing new had been entered since last Thursday. That person had been found yesterday—they’d made an impromptu trip to Charleston without telling anyone, but all was well. That case was officially closed.

I sighed. “Great Monday morning. This is the first murder since—”

Rue chimed in. “Since Labor Day weekend.”

“Oh yeah. The Labor Day backyard party that went too far. Too much booze, too many people, and too many arguments. Guns came out, and two people died. Idiots.” I leaned back in my chair until it couldn’t go any farther. “So now what?”

“You forget we have court today?”

“Shit! Yes, I did forget. We should get our initial report written up so the night crew can take charge. You know damn well we’ll be in court until our shift is over with anyway.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Before I knew it, several hours had passed, and our reports were complete and sitting on the night shift detectives’ desks. We had enough time to grab lunch before we were due in the courthouse in an hour.

Chapter 4

Katie jerked upright in bed. Her hair was wet, and sweat dampened her skin and bedsheets. A headache pounded like a drum in her temples. The nightmare she woke from was about someone being attacked. The people she saw were in a dark place, and she couldn’t identify the victim, but she knew it was a woman, and that woman was screaming for help.

Struggling to open her eyes, Katie found it took everything she had to ignore the pain that coursed through her body.

She willed her eyes open and saw that it was daylight. She didn’t remember going to bed last night, and the night was a total blur. She couldn’t recall anything after leaving Squirrel’s Nest.

Did I actually go to Woody’s at all?

Katie pushed the blankets aside. She needed water to soothe her parched throat. She stared at her body, and what she saw made her head spin. Katie was in her underwear, and dried blood covered her knees and feet. She looked at her arms, and they were stained with blood too.

Oh my God. What the hell is going on? Where did that blood come from? Is it mine or somebody else’s?

Tears pooled in Katie’s eyes. She wiped them then squinted at her phone to check the time. The screen was black and filled with spiderwebbed cracks.

Dizziness overtook her, and the room began to spin. She needed to steady herself. Bile crept up her throat, and her ears started ringing. She was going to vomit. Katie stumbled out of bed and tripped over the clothes and shoes from last night that lay in a pile on the floor. Her pants were torn, and blood stained the knees of them too.

In her tiny closet of a bathroom, she knelt at the toilet and vomited. A minute later and grasping the edge of the sink, Katie pulled herself up and looked in the mirror. Last night’s mascara was smeared around her eyes like circles of charcoal. Scrapes and scratches covered her face. Something had happened—something serious, something scary—but she couldn’t remember what it was.

Feeling weak and afraid, Katie pulled the room divider aside to check the time on the microwave. Living room furniture and kitchen chairs had been upended. She gasped at the sight in front of her and broke down.

How? What? Why? I don’t understand any of this.

Katie righted a kitchen chair and sat down then glanced at the microwave clock. It was noon. She held her pounding head while squeezing her eyes closed. She tried to recall why her apartment looked the way it did, but she couldn’t. Her body ached as if she had been in a fight, and by the scratches and scrapes, she probably had been.

Was that nightmare about me? Did something like that really happen last night then continued on right here in my apartment? I need to put this together and figure out if I was attacked or if I was trying to help someone else who was.

Katie lifted herself from the chair, gulped down three aspirin with water, then shuffled to the bathroom. A much-needed shower might help her remember.

Chapter 5

With full bellies from a decent lunch, Rue and I sat on a hard wooden bench just beyond the courtroom, waiting to testify. I was at the point of having a numb rear end when the bailiff finally opened the door and nodded to me.

“You’re up, Detective Cannon.”

I grumbled to Rue that it was about time. His response was that I was lucky—he was still waiting his turn.

With a chuckle, I promised to stick around until Rue was done, then we would go out for dinner. Considering how long we had already waited, we obviously wouldn’t get out of the courthouse until five o’clock anyway. Our shift would be over, and we’d be ready for a hearty meal and a couple of beers.

Since it was a Monday, the usual weekend crimes had died down until last night’s murder. That murder had been committed by either a tourist who’d slipped away and left town, an opportunistic local, or someone who knew the woman and had a beef with her. For the moment, that person was an unknown.

Luckily for us, it was the perfect day to get our court-ordered appearances out of the way since we had nothing to work on yet with the dead Jane Doe.

That day, we were called to testify on a high-profile case involving a local businessman, James Hines, or Big Jimmy as he was most often called. He’d owned four tour companies in Savannah and was lucky to live the life he had. He’d come from a long line of family money, and the companies he owned had been passed down to him twenty years back when his aging father wanted to retire from the business. Jimmy was nothing but a lowlife with a lot of money, and I planned to do my best during my testimony to point out his negative traits.

The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree since his grown son, Danny, was a player, a drug dealer, and involved in every illegal enterprise he could get his hands on, yet we had never been able to make any charges stick. Their family hired the best attorneys for Danny, and he always slipped under the radar.

Months ago, through a local CI, we’d discovered that Jimmy Hines wanted the businesses and home of a rival tour company burned to the ground and the owner possibly killed. He was looking for an outsider to take care of it, and he would pay well.

After learning that new information, Officer Ryan Lawry posed as a shady out-of-towner named Frank DeSoto, who had plenty of connections.

Devon and I were assigned to oversee the ruse. Through the CI, Officer Ryan was introduced to Jimmy, who let his intentions be known. We were well aware that Jimmy wanted his rival’s businesses and home burned up, hopefully with the owner inside. Ryan had offered to put him in touch with an acquaintance who would be perfect for the job. The man known as Pyro Pete had set many fires in the past and would be in touch.

That was when the plan was put into motion. Several days later, Ryan made the introductions between Jimmy and Pyro Pete, who was actually Officer John Taylor. He portrayed himself as a man with a fascination for fire but who would commit almost any crime for the right price.

In the Serial Crimes department of the Savannah PD, we handled not only murder cases but every kind of serial crime investigation that came across our desks. A good portion of those investigations were brought to our attention by our CIs on the street. The information about Jimmy wanting his competition’s business and life destroyed had been passed on to us by Kyle Porter, a streetwise low-level criminal who owed the PD favors. His own crimes were reduced in court, and like most CIs, he was paid for true and actionable information.

Generally speaking, CIs were sketchy people, too, and we were aware of the risk that he might choke and spill information to Jimmy, letting him know we were cops working undercover. Yet he had plenty to lose if he did. Blowing the case meant he would return to prison for his crimes and spend extra time behind bars. Luckily, he played the part and kept his mouth closed.

The PD had been shadowing Jimmy since that threat, and we had compiled a list of his dirtball friends just in case he enlisted their help with other criminal activities in the future.

On the day that Pyro Pete and Jimmy were going to discuss the details of the job, we had plenty of undercover officers posing as patrons at the restaurant where the meeting was set to take place. While wearing a wire, Pete had asked Jimmy exactly what he wanted done to his rival’s home and business.

“You want all of his locations, including his house, burned to the ground, right? I need to know exactly what you want because there’s no refunds and no turning back once the plan is put into motion. He and his family could be inside the home, and they may die in the process.”

While we waited in our cruiser a half block away, our radio squawked. An undercover officer sitting in the restaurant told us that Jimmy wrote something on a piece of paper and turned it toward Officer Taylor. After that, he shredded it and ate it.

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard, and I knew in that moment that we couldn’t make an arrest. Jimmy had outsmarted us, not necessarily because he actually suspected Taylor of being a cop but likely to cover his shady ass.

Taylor knew what to do if anything went sideways. He played along without a second thought. He agreed, then they set up the next meeting for two days later. At that time, a five-thousand-dollar deposit was handed over. When the money was passed to Pyro Pete, the police swooped in and arrested both of them so it wouldn’t look like Taylor was in on it.

Fast-forward to the present, and because we were all part of the undercover team, our testimonies took place from behind a curtained-off witness stand. We testified using fake names just so Jimmy and his sidekicks wouldn’t know who any of us really were. The judge, bailiff, and court staff were the only people who knew our real identities, so our covers were protected.

Months later, and denying in court what he’d meant for Pyro Pete to do, Jimmy tried to get the charges dropped. Nobody had been killed, no businesses had been set on fire, and Pete had misunderstood what Jimmy wanted done. He claimed he only wanted Michael Carlisle, the other tour group owner, to be roughed up and his brick-and-mortar locations shut down.

My time on the witness stand lasted fifty minutes, then I was excused. It was Rue’s turn, and since it was open court and we didn’t know who was sitting in the gallery, everyone on the prosecution’s side testified behind that curtain via voice-altering audio. Jimmy was known to have thugs working for him, and nobody wanted to be in harm’s way.

By 4:50 p.m., the judge had ended the testimonies for the day. Jimmy Hines would return to his cell, and proceedings would continue tomorrow. Our obligations were complete.

Through the rear exit of the courthouse, Rue and I left and headed to West Oglethorpe Avenue for an enjoyable supper at Brick Alley Pizza and Pub.

A band played in the corner of the popular restaurant as patrons filled every table and barstool.

Sitting at the end of the bar was Danny Hines, Jimmy’s son. I groaned with disdain for the man. He and his father were narcissistic, elitist crooks, and both were as slippery and slimy as a bucket of snakes.

Chapter 6

Hours had passed since the shower Katie had thought would help her remember the night before. It didn’t, and after the shower, she actually dropped down onto the couch and fell asleep. She finally stirred, sat up, and looked at the clock—five fifteen.

Why can’t I stay awake? Could I have been drugged last night? And if so, by whom? I can’t recall anything after talking to Leslie at Squirrel’s Nest. She told me to check out Woody’s Dive Bar, and after that, everything is a blur.

Katie stumbled into the bathroom and held a cold washcloth to her face. She needed to wake up and inspect her body again. If she had been assaulted, and it clearly appeared that something had occurred in her apartment, she needed to tell the police.

But what about my dream and the woman screaming for help as she was being beaten? Did that actually happen, or was it nothing but a nightmare because someone was beating me right here in my apartment? Who could it have been, and did I actually let somebody in?

It was time to call the police. Katie needed someone to come talk to her. The nearest police station was ten blocks away, too far to walk, and in her condition, she didn’t have the strength to anyway. She had to talk to Leslie again, but that could wait until tomorrow when her mind would be a little clearer. She also needed to go to Woody’s and ask if she had been there Sunday night. Somehow, she had to put the puzzle pieces together to find out who’d assaulted her. Was it somebody she’d invited back to her apartment, or was it someone who’d followed her and saw she was intoxicated or drugged and easy prey?

She walked to the nightstand next to the bed and picked up her phone. She stared at it as if it was an alien object. Katie had forgotten that she had looked at it earlier and saw that it was broken. “Damn it, now what should I do?”

She hadn’t met any of her neighbors yet and didn’t want to impose and ask to use their phone. Besides that, she didn’t want them knowing she was calling the police or listening to what she said.

Fully aware of her predicament, Katie knew there wasn’t anything she could do without a phone. After giving the situation some thought, she decided to take the bus to the stop nearest the police station. She had no other choice. She put on a long-sleeved shirt and pants to hide her cuts and bruises then applied makeup to cover the scrapes on her face. Looking the best she could for appearing in public, Katie walked out, locked up, and cautiously headed to the bus stop.

Since she didn’t know the bus schedule, she reached the bus shelter a few minutes after six. She sat there watching cars pass by for twenty minutes before the bus that was headed toward the police station finally arrived.

As Katie sat in the seat behind the driver, she asked him to tell her which stop was hers and where to go. The Oglethorpe bus stopped at the corner of Colonial Park Cemetery. Katie would have to walk only beyond the cemetery to the corner at Habersham, where the police station was located.

Minutes later, the bus driver pointed ahead. “Here’s your stop. Just keep walking to the next intersection. The police station is on the corner.”

“Thank you.”

Katie waited for the door to open then stepped out. She was nervous, but she wanted answers. Hopefully, the police station was exactly where she would get the help she needed.

After she arrived and walked through the main door, she stopped and looked around. Hallways led left and right, and a long counter with a Plexiglass divider stood directly ahead. She saw officers behind it, and one called out to her through the speaker.

“Can I help you?”

Hesitantly, Katie willed her feet to move in that direction.

“Um, I think I need to speak with someone.”

The male officer nodded. “Okay. Regarding?”

“I don’t remember much about last night, but I believe I was attacked in my apartment. Maybe even drugged.”

Tears pooled in Katie’s eyes, and she brushed them away with her sleeve.

“Sure. Have a seat right there.” The officer pointed at the group of chairs against the wall. “I’ll have a detective come get you. Hang tight.”

It took barely a minute before a man with a badge hanging around his neck came into the lobby, introduced himself as Detective Bob Prentice, and asked her to join him in an office down the hallway.

Katie followed him there. He offered her a seat and a bottle of water, and she thanked him. Then he closed the door at his back.

“So, let’s start at the beginning.” The detective passed the bottle across the table and sat down. From the counter at his back, he grabbed a legal pad and pen then waited.

“Um.”

“Let’s start with the basics—your name, address, phone number.”

“Okay. I’m Katherine Woods, but I just go by Katie. I’ve only lived in Savannah a week now. I moved here from Detroit.”

“Sure. A job bring you south?”

“No, just a new city to explore. I vacationed here a few years ago and fell in love with everything about the city. Now I’m not so sure.”

Prentice frowned. “Sorry to hear that. Where do you live, Katie?”

“On West Bay Street.” She gave him the address.

“And your phone number?”

She gave him that, too, then added that her phone was broken and the screen shattered.

“So you dropped your phone?”

“I don’t know.”

The detective stared closely at her face. He pointed. “Looks like you’re covering up scrapes with makeup.”

She nodded then pushed back her sleeves to show him more. “I don’t know how I got these, but my apartment looks like there was a fight inside. The furniture has been tossed around.”

He tapped his pen against the paper. “Right. Let’s start with what you remember about yesterday.”

“I moved into my apartment after spending a week in a hotel until I found something close to downtown and the bus line. I was so excited.” She wiped her eyes again.

“Go on.”

“Well, I got the keys and moved in. All I had were two suitcases. The apartment is furnished.”

“Ah, okay. Then what?”

“I rearranged the furniture the way I wanted it, filled out some online job applications, then cleaned up. It was suppertime, plus I wanted to check out the area. I figured a Sunday night wouldn’t be overly rowdy but everything would be open anyway.”

“Sure, so where did you go?”

“I walked east on River Street to Drayton then cut south until I reached Broughton, then I turned west. I wanted to check out the restaurants that looked like fun. Maybe even find a place that had a Help Wanted sign in the window.”

“And you decided on?”

“Squirrel’s Nest.”

He smiled. “That is a fun, artsy type of place. Good food too.”

Katie gave him a slight smile back. “I sat at the bar because the restaurant was really crowded and they weren’t able to give up a table for one, plus I wouldn’t look so alone at the bar. I ordered there, ate, struck up a conversation with the bartender, Leslie, and asked if they were hiring. She said they weren’t but the bars and clubs might be. She said I’d make good money as a bartender. She suggested checking out Woody’s Dive Bar.”

“So, did you go to Woody’s?”

“I don’t remember.”

The detective gave her another frown. “How much did you drink with your supper?”

“Only one beer.”

“And did you strike up a conversation with the person sitting next to you? Did someone offer to buy you another drink?”

Katie twisted the cap off the water bottle and took a long swig. “Nobody sat down next to me. I ate, talked to Leslie a bit, then left—I think. The next thing I remember is that I woke up in bed today at noon, my body was scraped and bloody, my phone was destroyed, and my apartment was a mess. I was freaked out, so I took a shower to assess my injuries. The next thing I knew, it was after five o’clock. I lost so much time, and everything is a blur.”

Prentice rubbed his head. “That’s quite a story, Katie. But you still had your purse, money, and credit cards?”

“Yes, but the cash in my wallet was gone. Luckily, I only took sixty dollars with me. I stashed the rest of my money and credit cards in a dresser drawer before I left. Anyway, I was going to call the police to come to my apartment and have them take a look at it, but then I realized my phone didn’t work. I tried to hide my scrapes with long sleeves, pants, and makeup, then I took the bus here.”

“Did you straighten up your apartment?”

“I righted one chair so I could sit down, but everything else is like I found it. I’ll probably get kicked out now because of this. Whatever happened had to be noisy.”

“Okay, give me a minute. I have to make a few calls.”

Prentice came back minutes later and said the day shift detectives would return soon, take her home, and go over her statement with her. At that point, they would see if any forensic evidence was apparent in the apartment and should be collected.

“Can I get you a snack or another bottle of water while we wait?”

“A bag of chips and another water would be good. Thanks.”

“You bet. I’ll be right back.”

Chapter 7

I hung up from the call with Prentice and told Rue what he’d said. The night shift detectives were about to hit the bars, restaurants, and clubs in the general area of the alley, talk to a few people, then go again later right about the time that Tapper thought the murder might have taken place. It was possible that somebody heard an unusual sound or saw something odd but didn’t realize what they were hearing or seeing. Of course, without an actual eyewitness, just asking random people who were out at that time of night wasn’t the easiest way to get answers.

Prentice asked if Rue and I could come inside when we returned the cruiser then go pick up the girl and take her home. She had an unusual story to tell and a banged-up body.

I agreed, and we had our supper bagged to go. We guzzled our first and only beers then left.

After I called Royce and told him we were needed at the station, we reached our precinct’s parking lot a few minutes later.

“This should be interesting,” Rue said as we walked to the main entrance.

“Interesting how?”

“To see if she’s for real or some kind of kook, if she inflicted the injuries on herself, and if she really doesn’t remember anything about last night. Maybe she invited somebody in, things got rough, and she’s playing the ‘I don’t remember’ card because she’s embarrassed.”

“Maybe, but that’s a lot for us to learn. We aren’t psychiatrists or mind readers.”

“No, but we can pull up information from Detroit, see if she has a record, then talk to her parents.”

I wagged my finger at Devon. “Prentice said she’s over twenty-one. We don’t have any business involving her parents. If she’s for real, one would think she’d call them herself.”

“You said her phone was allegedly broken.”

“True.”

Devon grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. We said hi to Tracy, the night shift desk sergeant’s receptionist, then continued down the hallway.

Prentice said we would find them in the empty office on the right. I gave the door a rap, then we entered. Sitting with Bob was a cute but scared-looking young lady. She was covered from head to toe, which I found odd on a comfortable seventy-five-degree evening. After we sat down across from her and introduced ourselves, I noticed her thick makeup.

“Katie, Detective Prentice has prior commitments with the night shift crew, so my partner here, Detective Rue, and I will take you home. We’ll look over your apartment to see if there was forced entry or possibly somebody was able to slip through a window to gain entry. We’ll investigate the scene then go over your account of yesterday again. Sound good?”

“Um, okay, then. I guess I’m ready.”

She thanked Prentice for his help and walked out with us.

We climbed into the cruiser that still had our warm, bagged suppers in it. The inside of the car smelled great, and I was dying to chow down, but that wouldn’t be professional since, once again, we were officially on the clock.

With Rue behind the wheel, Katie called out directions, and we reached her apartment building around seven o’clock.

The building had one main entrance, and she said every resident had a key to it. That got them through the vestibule, then they were free to go to their own unit on the first through third floors.

“I’m here on the left. I consider myself lucky to have gotten a first-floor unit.”

Katie looked over her shoulder and gave us a quick smile. I didn’t want to scare her, but first-floor apartments were the ones that normally got broken into. They were easy to access, and hers was probably worse than most. She was on the back side of the building, meaning her unit faced the alley, not the lamp-lit street where a break-in would be far easier to see.

I was already skeptical. Since the main entrance door hadn’t been tampered with, either she’d invited someone in, or the attack was committed by another resident, maybe someone who’d watched as she moved in the day before.

Rue stopped her before she put her key in the doorknob and turned it.

“Let me take a peek first to see if there are any scrapes around the locking mechanism.” After Katie backed away, Rue knelt at the door. He used his flashlight to look all the way around the lock then into the slot on the knob to see if there was evidence that someone had picked it. He didn’t find anything unusual about the knob, the lock, or marks on the door’s framework. He gave her a nod. “Go ahead.”

Katie slid the key into the knob and turned it. She pushed the door inward, and we walked into a messed-up living room area. The couch was in the middle of the room, and the table and kitchen chairs—all but one—were upended. A small folding desk, along with two table lamps, lay on the floor. Couch pillows were scattered around the room.

I took in the sight. “Where is your sleeping area and bathroom?”

She pointed her chin at the accordion divider. “This is a studio apartment, so that divider acts like a wall. My bedroom is on the other side.”

“Open it, please,” I said.

Katie pushed the moveable wall to the side, and we saw a full-sized bed, a dresser, two nightstands, a small bathroom, and an even smaller closet. I noticed the blood-smeared bedsheets.

Rue walked to the only window and checked the lock. It was secure.

“Would you mind putting on shorts and a T-shirt so we can photograph your injuries? We need to know for sure that the blood on your sheets is actually yours.”

“Okay, I’ll only be a minute.” Katie pulled some items of clothing out of the dresser drawer then disappeared into the bathroom.

Since the space was so small, I had to keep my conversation with Rue to a whisper. “What do you think? No forced entry anywhere. The only possibility would be that another resident was here, or she brought someone back to the apartment with her.”

Rue grimaced. “A young woman who has only lived in her apartment for half a day and in Savannah for a week? She doesn’t seem like that edgy of a person.”

“But she was looking for a bar to go to.”

“Right, but for partying reasons or to ask about a job?”

I nodded then stopped talking when Katie walked around the divider. I was shocked to see how badly her legs and arms were bruised and scraped. In that second, I believed she was truly assaulted. I didn’t see how she could have inflicted those injuries on herself.

I glanced at Rue then pulled out my phone to take some pictures. If we dug deep into her story and it still didn’t make sense, we would have to decide whether Forensics needed to come in, print the apartment, and take pictures of their own.

After snapping a dozen photos, I asked Katie to sit down and go over everything she could remember from yesterday.

Rue engaged his phone’s camera, set it to Video, then recorded her responses. We wanted not only to hear what she would say but also to watch her expressions and movements as she went through her story.

After inhaling deeply, Katie began.

Chapter 8

“It was an exciting day. I was getting the keys to my apartment. I got a rideshare to take me and my suitcases there, met the landlord, and paid the first month’s rent. I spent a few hours moving the furniture around the way I liked it, set up my laptop, and browsed jobs online. I emptied my suitcases, hung my clothes, and put away my toiletries.” She smiled. “I was on top of the world.”

“Katie, are you a heavy drinker, or do you use recreational drugs?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I’m twenty-two, I enjoy a few drinks when I go out, but I don’t get inebriated, and I don’t use any kind of drugs.”

“Did you have anything to drink while you were getting the apartment organized? A few beers, maybe, or a couple of shots?”

“Of course not. I hadn’t even gone food shopping yet. I arrived with my luggage, nothing more. I drank a few glasses of water while I worked.”

“Is there an explanation, then, for your memory loss?”

Her eyes pooled with tears. “Why do you think I contacted the police? This is really scary. I know somebody attacked me. I mean, it’s obvious by the shape my apartment is in and the way my body looks.”

“Right,” I said. “Did you meet any other residents yesterday when you were moving in?”

“No, not a single person. The landlord gave me the keys, took my rent money, and left.”

“Could the landlord have come back and gotten in?”

“I guess, but that doesn’t explain my memory loss. Plus, the landlord is sixty-something years old and a heavyset woman.”

That comment took both Rue and me by surprise. I was stumped.

“Katie, are you in pain right now? Do you want to get checked out at the hospital?”

“No. I don’t have health insurance or a job yet. The money I have needs to support me until I find work.”

She seemed like a responsible young woman. Her answers checked the right boxes.

“Do you have any medical problems?” Rue asked.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“We would like your parents’ contact information. Maybe they know more about your health than you do.”

Katie frowned. “I don’t want them to know that I’m already having trouble. They trusted the fact that I could move so far away and be okay on my own. Please don’t call them.”

I glanced at Devon. “How about their names and number anyway? We won’t contact them unless it’s an emergency.”

She reluctantly gave us the information, and I thanked her. When I thought about the rideshare she had mentioned earlier, an idea came to me.

“Do you think you walked home last night or got a ride?”

She shrugged. “If I remembered that, I’d probably remember the whole night.”

“And you told Detective Prentice that nobody sat next to you at Squirrel’s Nest?”

“That’s correct.”

“And the bartender’s name you were speaking with?”

“Leslie. That’s all I know, just Leslie.”

“Okay, we should be able to track her down. She told you to check out Woody’s to see if they were hiring?”

“She did, but I don’t remember going there.”

“Hmm… None of that makes sense.” I looked at Rue then rose from the couch. “We’ll come back tomorrow and talk some more. Since your phone doesn’t work, we’ll have to know when you’ll be home.”

“I’ll stay home until after you stop by. I’m going to be super cautious and keep alert to people and my surroundings going forward.”

“I don’t want you to have a bad taste in your mouth about Savannah. We have a great city that welcomes you with open arms. Give us a chance. I promise you, we’ll figure this out. When we leave, we’re going to knock on a few doors here in the building to see if anyone heard noises last night. After that, we’ll interview Leslie if she’s working tonight. We’ll try to help you make sense of last night, Katie. For now, lock your door and don’t open it to anyone. Remember, you don’t have a phone to call for help.”

Katie rose from the chair. “Thank you both, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I opened the door, and we stepped out. “We’re going to stand outside your door until we hear you turn the dead bolt. Take care.”

She closed the door, the dead bolt turned, and we continued down the hall. I doubted that anyone off a different hallway would hear anything on that floor. The same went for the third floor. Logic said that the apartments above Katie’s along that same hallway would be our best bet other than the apartments on either side of hers and the one across the hall.

We took a few steps to the left and knocked on that door. Nobody answered. We turned around then did the same at the apartment on her right. Rue gave the door two knocks, and a voice called out to give them a minute. We waited, then an elderly woman peeked through the width of the door’s chain lock.

“Yes?”

We exposed our badges and asked if we could have a minute of her time.

She frowned and cupped her ear. “What?”

“May we have a minute of your time, ma’am? We have a few questions about possible noise coming from your neighbor’s apartment last night.”

She shook her head. “I have my TV turned up loud because my hearing is bad. I can’t hear much of anything these days, especially when I take out my hearing aids.”

“The noise likely happened between nine and midnight. We aren’t sure, though.”

She released the chain, opened the door, then waved us off. “You’re wasting your time. I’m in bed by then with my hearing aids off.”

I sighed. “Okay. Thank you, ma’am.”

Rue and I headed to the stairs. We would question a few people on the second floor then take a drive to Squirrel’s Nest.

I knocked on the door of the apartment right above Katie’s, and a woman who looked to be around thirty answered.

“Hello?”

I made sure she saw my badge before I told her who we were. “Hello, ma’am. We’re detectives from the Habersham precinct and were wondering if you heard any noise last night coming from the apartment below you.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “What time? I work part-time at the movie theater, and I’m gone between six o’clock and eleven.”

“So no loud noise after you got home?”

“Nope. Nice and quiet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

We moved to the next door, but before I knocked, I jotted down that all was quiet after eleven last night according to the tenant we had just spoken with. That information narrowed down the later time frame for when something could have happened in Katie’s apartment.

Rue gave the door a knock, and a man answered.

“Yes?”

We went through the same introductions as before and asked the same question.

He scratched his cheek. “I did hear some noise around ten o’clock. I was watching the news and paused it when I heard a crashing sound. I remember glancing at the clock and hoping the noise would end soon so I could get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Did you do something about it? Pound on the floor or anything like that?” I asked.

“Nah, I’m not that kind of guy. The noise stopped before the news was over, so I didn’t care.”

“So you say it started around ten and was done by ten thirty?” Rue asked.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Did you hear any voices?”

“No, can’t say that I did.”

We thanked him then headed outside to the cruiser.

“I’m stymied,” Rue said.

“That makes two of us. If somebody was in Katie’s apartment between ten and ten thirty, knocking her and the furniture around, why wouldn’t she have screamed out? Why didn’t the neighbors hear voices at all?”

Rue groaned. “This job can be really confusing.”

I chuckled. “Maybe Leslie can help clear things up.”

Chapter 9

It was after eight thirty by the time we walked into Squirrel’s Nest. When we entered, I looked around and saw an average-sized crowd for a Monday night. We hoped to have a few minutes to speak with Leslie, if she was there, without interrupting her bartending duties.

Rue and I grabbed two vacant barstools, then a male bartender approached us. He wiped the bar top with the rag that had been draped over his shoulder, tossed down two coasters, and asked what we would like to drink. Then he noticed our badges.

“Ah, on the clock?”

I sighed. “Unexpected overtime. We’ll have a couple of sweet teas.”

“Coming right up.”

The bartender disappeared for a few seconds then came back with two icy glasses of tea.

I thanked him then asked, “Is Leslie working tonight?”

“Nope. She works Wednesday through Sunday night.”

“Were you working last night?” Rue asked.

“No, but Brandon was. He bartended with Leslie.”

“Great. Could you ask him over? We have a few questions for him.”

“You bet.”

The bartender walked to Brandon and spoke to him for a second, then Brandon headed our way.

“Can I help you with something?”

I reached out and shook his hand. “Yes. We’re detectives from the Habersham precinct and have a few questions for you about a patron at the bar last night. Evidently, Leslie waited on her, we’re thinking sometime between seven and eight o’clock.

“We were pretty crowded last night. A lot of the supper customers had to sit at the bar because the tables were full. That made us even busier.”

“A young woman sitting alone ordered the seafood special, she said, and talked to Leslie about looking for a job. Leslie suggested Woody’s.”

“Yeah, I might have overheard some of that conversation but not much. I was slammed with drink orders.”

“Anyone with the woman?”

“No. There was a group of four people waiting for bar seats, but there was only one empty chair between the woman and the next person at the bar. Leslie could probably give you way more details about the woman than I can. Did she do something wrong? I hope Leslie didn’t serve someone with a fake ID. We always check just because we get so many tourists.”

I swatted the air. “Nah, that’s all good, but we would appreciate Leslie’s last name, phone number, and address.”

Brandon grimaced. “Am I allowed to do that? Personal information act or something?”

“There isn’t a personal information act, but I know what you mean as far as giving out information to strangers. We’re the cops, remember? It’s important that we speak to her.”

“Yeah, okay. Give me a second.”

Brandon left the bar area then returned seconds later with a slip of paper. “Here you go. Leslie’s last name is Connor, and here’s her phone number and address. I hope she doesn’t get mad at me.”

“We’ll cover your butt. Thanks, Brandon.” I tossed a ten on the bar, and we walked out.

Back in the car, I checked the time. “Want to try Leslie now in person, give her a call, or drop in on her tomorrow?”

Rue gave the clock a glance. “Nine o’clock isn’t that late. She’s young, according to Katie. Let’s stop in, see if she’s home, and if she isn’t, we’ll tuck a card in her door and try again tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s do it.”

Rue drove to Leslie’s address, an apartment building only nine blocks away. We parked in a guest spot and walked to the locked glass entry door. Mounted on the wall next to the door was a panel with an intercom and list of resident names. We located Leslie’s apartment, 211, and I rang the buzzer. I stared at the redbrick floor while we waited. I pressed the buzzer again—nothing.

“Hmm… I’ll try her phone since I can’t leave a card. We can meet her somewhere if she agrees to it.” I tapped her number into my phone and hit Send. The phone rang four times on her end before the voicemail message engaged. It was the typical greeting saying to leave a message and she would return the call as soon as possible. I left my name and number then said I had a few questions for her about a bar patron from yesterday. I shrugged as I hung up. “I guess we may as well return to the precinct, get our cars, and go home. If she does call me tonight, I’ll ask the questions over the phone, and we’ll rehash everything tomorrow.”

“Good enough. I’m looking forward to microwaving my supper I was about to eat two hours ago, sitting on the couch, cracking a beer, and indulging in long-awaited food in front of the TV.”

“Same here, except Marie will insist I sit on the recliner while she heats up my food and delivers it to my chair.” I chuckled. “That was probably the best idea yet, to have her, the kids, and our mom move back into the family home. Gus is never lonely, and honestly, I’m not either. It also helps that I’m the only boy in our family.”

Rue rolled his eyes, then he parked the cruiser, and we got out. “Sounds like you’re still spoiled. Anyway, grab your food, go home, and enjoy your family. I’ll see you tomorrow. If Leslie does call you back, give me a buzz. I’ll be up for another hour for sure.”

“Will do.”

I climbed into my Corvette and drove away.

At home, the rest of the night went exactly as I had predicted. Marie fussed over me, Mom watched TV while sipping her nightly cup of chamomile tea, and I ate supper on my recliner. The three of us watched the news together while I kept an eye on my phone. The call I’d been waiting for hadn’t come, so at ten thirty, I kissed my mom and sister good night, called Gus to come on, and my waddling bulldog and I went to bed.

Chapter 10

My alarm woke me at seven. The phone was still resting on my chest with my hand over it. I’d never gotten that call from Leslie last night, so I checked for a text, but there wasn’t one. With a groan, I placed my phone on the nightstand and briefly reflected on the previous evening. Katie couldn’t remember anything, and Leslie hadn’t been home, hadn’t answered her phone, and hadn’t called back. She hadn’t even texted to say she would get back with me. That, along with Katie’s entire story, seemed weird.

I told myself that throughout the day, we would learn more after connecting with Leslie. It did sound like Katie had been under the influence of something, but it didn’t seem feasible that someone had taken the opportunity to slip her a mind-altering drug—unless she was holding something back.

I was also interested in hearing what our night shift detectives had found out from bar and restaurant patrons near the alley where Jane Doe was killed. I would get in touch with Tapper to learn more about our victim unless he had already informed Royce. Forensics had likely found dozens of prints, but since they were on a dumpster—which was usually frequented by homeless people or someone looking for an item to sell—those prints would only bog down the investigation. I was still curious to learn whether the blood on the dumpster matched our victim’s and if that lone earring Forensics had found had any DNA on it. Hopefully, they would have information on that too.

After I performed my morning rituals and had breakfast with my family, the girls played outside with Gus for ten minutes before Marie called them in. It was time to get ready for school. I said my goodbyes, wished them all a good day, and left.

Ten minutes later, I parked in our lot and entered the building. I knew Rue was already there since his vehicle was in his parking space. When I entered the bullpen, he looked up from his laptop.

“Nothing from Leslie?”

“Nope, not even a text. I’ll try again in a few hours, when she ought to be awake and alert.” I sat down and took a gulp of coffee from my travel mug. “Talk to Royce yet this morning?”

“Nah. No idea if he spoke to Tapper or anyone in Forensics yet either. We’ll find out during the morning updates, I’d imagine.”

I powered up my computer and blankly stared at the home screen until the camera acknowledged my face. I quickly went through my overnight emails and deleted the spam.

“What’s this?” Rue’s voice sounded urgent.

“What?” I pushed back my chair, rounded the desk, and looked over his shoulder.

Rue had the missing persons page up on his computer, and a new name had been added. It was for a twenty-nine-year-old local woman who hadn’t been seen or talked to for thirty hours. The report had been added to our database at seven o’clock last night.

“You think our Jane Doe could be around thirty years old?” Rue asked.

I cocked my head. “Maybe, but her face was too damaged to tell. She could have been eighteen or forty. Tapper should be able to give us more today, and if not, he’ll have to check dental records.”

“Right, but that only helps if she’s a local. So far, we’ve got no clue who she is. Maybe eye color, hair color, weight, and height can narrow it down.”

I glanced at the wall clock. “Come on. Royce should be ready to give the morning updates. We’ll call Tapper after that unless Royce has already talked to him.”

We walked down the hall to the roll call room, where Royce stood at the podium. He called out names until the roster was completed.

He moved on to the overnight news. The night shift detectives who’d followed up on our Jane Doe hadn’t had any success with witness accounts. Nobody within three blocks of the crime scene had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Royce mentioned that Forensics did get a partial print off the earring, but it was unusable. DNA was also found, but there wasn’t a match in the system. Royce ended the meeting, and the updates were over.

I grunted, rose to my feet, and whispered to Rue. “That was useless. Let’s catch up with Royce. We need to let him know about that new missing persons entry.”

Rue and I followed Royce to his office, where we asked for a few minutes of his time.

“Have a seat, guys. I wanted to find out about your interview with Katie. What happened?”

“We’ll address that in a minute, Boss, but this seems more urgent.”

Royce raised his eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

Rue spoke up. “There’s a new entry from last night in the missing persons database. Twenty-nine-year-old woman. Any info from Tapper yet?”

“No, but I’ll call him right now. After that, I want to hear everything you learned about Katie Woods.”

We sat in the guest chairs and kept silent as Royce spoke with Tapper. I watched him jot down notes but couldn’t read what he was writing from our side of the desk. The call lasted several minutes, then Royce hung up.

“So, Tapper said there’s the chance the woman could be around thirty. She doesn’t have any identifiable features such as tattoos. How did that woman’s description match up with the way Jane Doe looked?”

I grimaced. “Jane’s face was pretty beat up, but they both have blond hair.” I pointed my chin at Royce’s notes. “What did Tapper give you as far as height, weight, and eye color?”

Royce looked down at the paper. “Five foot six, one hundred twenty-nine pounds, and hazel eyes.”

Rue checked the screenshot he had taken of the woman’s description on the missing persons database. “It could be her.”

“Okay, you two reach out to the family, but first, let’s hear about Katie and her strange story.”

I groaned. “We don’t know shit, pardon my frustration. Katie was definitely beat up, plus her furniture was tossed around. There’s no denying that. We have photos of her arms and legs. We know where she went, at least the restaurant she went to. Her plan was to hit Woody’s after that and ask about job openings, but she doesn’t remember if she went there or not. We asked Katie’s neighbors if they heard any noise in her apartment, and one tenant said he did between ten and ten thirty. I’m guessing that had to be when she was assaulted. There aren’t any outdoor cameras on the building, but there is a security door. That was fine, her apartment door hadn’t been messed with, and her only window was locked from the inside. That leaves her allowing someone in, or possibly another tenant attacked her.”

Royce scratched his balding head. “Hmm… So nothing yet?”

“We went to Squirrel’s Nest to speak with the bartender who waited on Katie, but she was off last night. We stopped by her apartment and rang the buzzer, but nobody answered. I called her phone and left a message but… crickets.”

“That’s weird.” Royce knuckled his desk. “Okay, go talk to the person who filed the report, catch up with Tapper, then look for that bartender again. Katie needs answers, and we don’t want random people attacking new residents or killing people in our city.”

I tipped my head as we stood. “On it.”

We told Royce we would keep him updated then walked out.

Back in the bullpen, Rue made a copy of the entire missing persons sheet, including all notable features of the woman, where she was last seen, and who’d filed the report. That person’s contact information, name, and address were included as well.

Rue called the number, spoke for only a minute to make sure somebody was at home, then said we were on our way. We needed more information.

We headed out, and while Rue drove, I called Tapper and got all of the details about the victim from Sunday night. Every mole and scar was documented and on my notepad.

We arrived at the two-story stucco house ten minutes later. Rue parked along the curb, and we walked up the sidewalk. A woman who looked to be in her late fifties greeted us at the door. She had been watching for us, she said.

After she introduced herself as Fay Gaines, mother of the missing Nancy Gaines, we were invited in and led to the kitchen, where she offered us seats at the table. Rue placed the missing persons sheet he had copied in front of him, and I took out my notes from Tapper.

Once Fay was comfortably seated and focused on us, we began.

“Mrs. Gaines,” I said.

She held up her hands. “Please, Fay is fine.”

“Sure thing.”

Normally, I would have started our conversation with the lead-up to the missing person’s report, but we weren’t that department, and that wasn’t why we were there. The only reason we had called on Fay was to find out if Nancy was indeed our Jane Doe. If she wasn’t, we would document our interview with Fay then pass off the information to that department head so they could add it to Nancy’s file.

With the description of Nancy in front of him, Rue confirmed the entries with Fay. “So, you said Nancy is five foot five inches. Is that correct?”

“I think so. I mean, she’s a grown woman, and I don’t go to her doctor’s appointments with her anymore, but that’s what I always thought.”

“Is it possible she could be five foot six?”

Fay shrugged. “I guess so. Why?”

Rue continued without answering Fay’s question. “Does Nancy have any tattoos or special dental work? For example, dentures, gold teeth, veneers, bridges, that sort of thing?”

“Um, she has a number of crowns. That much, I know. The teeth on either side of her top front teeth are crowned, and the bottom-right front tooth is too.” Fay frowned. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” Rue said. “Just being thorough. How about tattoos?”

“Oh, that’s right. She has a butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder.” Fay smiled. “That’s the only one I’m aware of. She said butterflies reminded her of her grandma, my mother.”

I took my turn. “Would you happen to have a picture of that tattoo?”

“I do. Actually, I went with her to get it. That was two years ago.” Fay scrolled through her phone’s gallery until she found the image. She turned her phone toward me, and I snapped a picture of it with my phone.

“We’ll add that picture to her file.”

“Thank you, Detective Cannon.”

“So, tell us when you saw Nancy last and if there is anyone you can think of who would want to harm her.”

“She and I went grocery shopping together on Saturday like we do every weekend. After that, I dropped her off at her apartment and came home. I tried calling her later that evening just to see what she was up to, but she didn’t answer.”

“And that was?”

“Around nine o’clock, I think.”

“Okay, go on.”

“Then I watched a movie and went to bed. It wasn’t urgent that I talk to her. The next morning, I had forgotten that she hadn’t answered the night before, so I called her while I was having my coffee. When she didn’t pick up that time, the previous call flashed back into my mind, and I remembered that she didn’t answer then either. That’s when I began worrying.”

“And what did you do?”

“I went to her apartment and was relieved when I saw her car in the parking lot.” Fay shook her head. “That relief didn’t last long. She wasn’t inside, but her phone, keys, and purse were. My daughter disappeared, and I don’t know why or where she could be.”

“Okay, and you mentioned all of this when you filed the report?”

“Yes.”

“And Nancy doesn’t have any enemies that you know of?”

“No. She’s a sweet woman, has a good job, and is friendly to everyone.”

I wondered if someone had taken advantage of her friendliness and also if that person could be the same one who’d killed Jane Doe.

Chapter 11

Rue excused himself and stepped outside. He needed to make a call. Standing in the shade of the magnolia tree at the front of the house, he called Royce.

“Boss, it’s Rue.”

“Well? What did you find out from the mother?”

Devon sighed into the phone. “Our Jane Doe is still a Jane Doe.”

“Damn it. What led to that conclusion?”

“Facts that can’t be denied. The mom wasn’t sure of her daughter’s height, so that could be disputed with Tapper, but she did say Nancy has a butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder and three crowns on her front teeth.”

“And Tapper didn’t document any tattoos or crowns?”

“Nope. Cannon took a picture of the tattoo and wrote down additional notes that can go in Nancy’s file. Other than that, there’s really no reason for us to stick around. We need to track down Leslie and see what she can tell us about Katie’s condition when she strolled into Squirrel’s Nest Sunday evening for supper.”

“Okay, wrap it up with the mom and head back in. I’m sure she has the contact information for the detectives handling Nancy’s disappearance.”

“Roger that. We’ll be back soon.”

Rue ended the call and returned to the house. With a barely noticeable head tip to Cannon, Devon picked up the sheet of paper that was on the table, explained to Fay that they would add the new information to Nancy’s file, and said the detectives assigned to her case would be in touch.

“Detectives?” Fay said as she walked them to the door.

Devon turned back. “Yes, ma’am?”

Fay wiped her eyes. “Why did you ask those particular questions?”

“Ma’am, a deceased woman was found downtown Monday morning. It wasn’t Nancy, but we had to be sure.” Rue squeezed her hand. “The detectives handling Nancy’s disappearance will do whatever they can to track her down. Stay in touch with them, okay?”

She nodded a thank-you as Rue and Cannon walked out.

Chapter 12

We made a quick stop at the precinct, dropped off the latest information from Fay to the detectives working Nancy’s case, passed along the information that Nancy wasn’t our Jane Doe, and said the investigation was back in their capable hands.

It was time to find Leslie Connor and have that conversation with her. Once again, I called her phone and got the same results I’d gotten the day before. That in itself seemed odd. I didn’t know the woman and had never spoken to her in my life, yet most people didn’t ghost the police when they knocked, called, and sent texts.

I let out an aggravated sigh. “Is it just the way young adults are these days, irresponsible and unresponsive, or could there actually be something wrong?”

Looking at Rue, I waited to see if he would answer or if he thought it was a rhetorical question.

He answered. “Personally, I think it’s strange, but now what? This started out as an issue Katie had, and now the person who may be able to help has gone MIA. It’s like a can of worms opened with Katie, and now it’s multiplying.”

“Let’s go back to Squirrel’s Nest, find out who Leslie has listed as her contact person, and see if they know where she is. We still have to touch base with Katie and tell her—”

Rue chuckled. “Tell her that we don’t know shit?”

I shrugged. “I guess you have a point, but we need to track down Leslie one way or another before talking to Katie.” I tipped my wrist. It was still too early to make a stop at Woody’s to see if Katie had actually shown up there Sunday night, but that was something we would do later in the day. “Let’s head to Squirrel’s Nest again and find out who Leslie’s contact person is.”

With Rue behind the wheel, we headed west. Luckily, the employees at Squirrel’s Nest were arriving when we got there. They weren’t open for business yet but were there to start their prep work prior to opening at eleven. We headed to the back of the building, where several employees were walking in. We explained who we were and said we needed to speak to the person in charge. After being invited in, we were shown to the dining room by Mike, a server, and offered something to drink. We thanked him then waited while he went to get the daytime manager.

Minutes later, we had two sweet teas in front of us, and Tom Olsen, the manager, stepped out from the back and joined us at our table. We introduced ourselves and explained that we needed to speak with Leslie but hadn’t been able to reach her. We said we were worried about her as well as the person we wanted to speak to her about.

“I noticed a few inconspicuous cameras scattered within the restaurant décor,” I said.

“Good eye,” Tom said. “Our customers aren’t keen about camera surveillance while they’re just trying to enjoy a meal or a drink at the bar, but we’ve had trouble in the past, and it’s in our best interest to record the hours that we’re open. We try to keep the cameras as well-hidden as possible.”

“Understood. Can we see the footage for Sunday night after six p.m.?”

“Sure, if I had permission to access the footage, but I don’t. That has to be approved by the restaurant owner first.”

“How long will that take?”

“Probably a few hours. I’ll have to text him the request since he’s taking a family road trip, and who knows where he’s at right now.”

There was always something that stalled investigations, and I never got used to it. I groaned in impatience.

“Okay, so what about Leslie? We need to talk to her.”

“Leslie isn’t scheduled to work again until Wednesday evening. Her days off are her private time.”

“We appreciate her privacy, sir, but this was and still is a police matter. We’re concerned for Leslie’s welfare along with that of the patron we wanted to speak to her about. What we would like is the name and phone number of Leslie’s contact person.”

Tom grimaced. “I hate overstepping.”

“We understand, and we know she’s an employee of yours, but her safety is the most important thing right now.”

Tom nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go get her file.” He sighed. “We still have hard copies of everything.”

I thanked him. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

We didn’t want to take up too much of the restaurant’s time. The staff was trying to get their prep work done before opening for lunch. After I took pictures of the two pages of Leslie’s file, Rue and I thanked Tom and headed out. We would return to the precinct, call the person listed in her file, and ask if there was any other way to reach Leslie.

After updating Royce, Rue and I returned to the station. I tried calling Leslie one more time before moving on to her contact person. We had learned from Tom that Leslie’s emergency contact was her neighbor, Carol Tobias. The story was that Leslie’s parents were divorced, she wasn’t close to either of them, and Carol was a good friend who lived in the same apartment building, two doors down.

At my desk and with a vending machine coffee within reach, I dialed the number for Carol Tobias. With our current luck, I wasn’t expecting anyone to answer.

“Hello?”

I pulled back, shocked but excited too. There was a chance that we could start unwinding the web of uncertainty we’d been dealing with.

“Hello, Carol Tobias?”

“Who’s asking?”

I understood her hesitation since she was yet another unmarried woman speaking to a caller who hadn’t yet identified himself.

“This is Detective Mitch Cannon from the Savannah PD. You’re on Speakerphone with me and my partner, Devon Rue. We’re looking for Leslie Connor but haven’t had any luck finding her. We were told by her boss that you’re listed as her emergency contact person.”

I heard what sounded like a sigh of relief. “So it isn’t just me?”

“Sorry?”

“I haven’t spoken to or seen Leslie since Sunday at lunchtime. I’ve texted her, called her, and knocked on her door. She’s nowhere to be found.”

I frowned, and my concern was quickly growing. “And there wasn’t any mention of her leaving town?”

“No. She had to work Sunday evening for the supper crowd. That’s the last night of her normal shift, Wednesday through Sunday.”

That much, we knew, but the fact that she’d disappeared after that didn’t sit right with us or likely Carol either.

“You didn’t feel the need to call for a welfare check on her?” Rue asked. “Has she been MIA before?”

“No, but she’s recently talked about wanting to mend fences with her mom. I guess I hoped that’s where she went.”

“Okay, we’ll be right there. We need to get into her apartment. By the way, is there an on-site manager?”

“Yes, Mr. Griffith.”

I thanked her, said we’d be there in ten minutes, then walked down the hall to Royce’s office. Before I made any other calls and went further down the never-ending rabbit hole we seemed to be creating, we needed to gain access to Leslie’s apartment and conduct a welfare check. Finding her inside, or a number for her mom, was imperative. It frustrated me that none of this had anything to do with the original investigation involving Katie, yet every step we took led us to another problem.

I rapped on Royce’s half-open door and waited to be acknowledged.

He glanced my way. “Cannon, what’s up?”

“More problems around every corner. Apparently, Leslie’s neighbor hasn’t seen or talked to her since Sunday at lunchtime.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Yes, according to Carol, the neighbor. She said she’s texted, called, and banged on Leslie’s door but hasn’t gotten a response.”

“Okay, you and Rue head out. I’ll have an officer meet you there. If there’s an on-site manager, have them unlock the door.”

“I was told there is, but he may or may not be home.”

“Well, if he’s not around, you’ll have to break in. First-floor apartment?”

I huffed. “We aren’t that lucky. Second floor, apartment 211.”

Chapter 13

The officer was waiting for us at the building’s front entrance. After an exchange of hellos, I pressed the buzzer for Leslie’s apartment, even though I knew it was futile. Nobody answered, and I didn’t expect anyone to, but I had to be sure. Carol’s apartment was two away from Leslie’s—209. We would get to her soon enough, but for now, we needed to find out if Mr. Griffith was home. I pressed the buzzer next to his name on the panel, and he answered with a gruff “Who’s there?”

I responded that it was the police and said we needed to get into Leslie Connor’s apartment to conduct a welfare check.

“Hang on. I’ll come to the vestibule, and I expect to see badges.”

“We’ll have them ready.” I rolled my eyes at Devon and Officer Grimes and wondered why some people felt the need to act tough.

A minute later, a middle-aged man who looked like he’d been sleeping opened the glass outer door. We all had our badges ready and facing his direction. He grunted in what seemed to be acknowledgment then let us pass through to the interior hallway.

He scratched his balding head. “So what is this about?”

Rue took the lead. “We’re working an investigation, and Leslie is someone we need to speak with. We haven’t been able to locate her, and according to her neighbor, Carol, she’s been unaccounted for since Sunday. We need to make sure she isn’t injured or sick inside her apartment.”

“Don’t you need a warrant?”

“Not for a welfare check, sir. We aren’t going in to tear apart her apartment, looking for evidence of anything. We just need to make sure she isn’t inside.”

“Okay, follow me. At least you won’t be kicking in the door.”

Mr. Griffith chose to take the elevator, so we stepped inside behind him. The door closed and a second later opened again. He led the way to Leslie’s apartment then flipped through his heavy ring of keys until he found hers, number 211. After he opened the door, we asked him to wait in the hallway with Grimes. We wouldn’t be long.

Rue and I went inside and closed the door behind us. We gave the kitchen counter a quick look for a purse, keys, or phone but saw nothing. We called out Leslie’s name but didn’t get a response. The space was tidy, and we didn’t see evidence of a problem inside. The bathroom looked normal, and the bed was made and drawers closed in the only bedroom. Nothing seemed amiss. It was like Leslie had gone to work on Sunday, which we knew about from talking to Brandon at Squirrel’s Nest, then disappeared.

We were inside a short five minutes before returning to the hallway, where we thanked Mr. Griffith and Grimes for their help. We continued to Carol’s apartment, and I was sure she knew we were on our way. Since we heard TVs playing in other apartments, we knew the walls were thin. Carol likely had heard us talking in the hallway. She opened the door just as I raised my fist to knock.

“Come in, Detectives.” She smiled. “I knew you’d be knocking any minute.”

We thanked her and sat on the couch.

Carol faced us from the love seat. “Before I forget, I’d like to say that the thin walls in this building only confirm my thoughts that Leslie didn’t come home Sunday night. I usually hear her pass my unit on her way to hers. My bedroom shares a wall with the hallway.”

I jotted down that information. “That’s good to know. So what did you two talk about at lunch on Sunday?”

She shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary. How’s work? What are you doing on your days off? Just everyday conversation or interesting segments we’ve seen on the news, that sort of thing.”

“Sure. Where did you go for lunch?” I asked.

“Monty’s.”

I nodded. “Great sandwiches. Is there anything else? Possibly someone Leslie works with who annoys her?”

“Not that she mentioned. She loves her job, and I think all of the employees there are pretty chill. As far as I know, they all get along just fine.”

I wondered if a disgruntled customer might have approached her after the restaurant closed Sunday night, but since Leslie was a bartender and served only drinks, I couldn’t understand why any patron would be angry at her. I was at a loss. We needed to go to Squirrel’s Nest to see if Tom had gotten the footage from Sunday. We had to find out if there were cameras at the exits or in the bar area that could show us clues about what had happened to Leslie during her shift or after she left work Sunday night.

I asked my final question before we left. “We didn’t get Leslie’s mom’s name and address when I spoke to you on the phone. Do you know it?”

“Yes, her name is Marilyn Connor, and she lives in Henderson, but that’s all I know. Leslie never told me her dad’s name or where he lives.”

I wrote that down and gave Carol my card. We thanked her for her time and left.

Back in the car, I suggested we stop in and pay Katie a visit. “We can’t keep her hanging all day without word from us. Even though we don’t know anything new, we should still update her so she doesn’t feel abandoned.”

Rue agreed. “She needs to get a new phone, too, as soon as possible.”

We headed out and reached Katie’s building several minutes later. Rue parked along the curb, we walked to the entrance, and I pressed her buzzer. She answered right away and asked who it was. I told her it was Detectives Rue and Cannon, and she buzzed us through.

After opening her door and allowing us in, Katie seemed excited to see us. I chalked that up to the sheer boredom of waiting half a day for us to show up.

“Have you bought a new phone yet?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t gone anywhere, as promised. My door has been locked since you left here yesterday, but I will go buy one after you leave.” She scooted forward on the kitchen chair with her elbows on the table. “So, did you find out anything from Leslie?”

I gave Rue a quick glance. “We haven’t been able to meet up with her. I guess she works Wednesday through Sunday, and we haven’t tracked her down yet.”

“Humph. How about Woody’s?”

“We plan to stop in there later and talk to the staff. Somebody should remember you being there if you actually made it to Woody’s.”

“Right. Okay, that’s good. Anything from my neighbors?”

Rue fielded that question. “Yes, actually. An upstairs neighbor said he heard noises coming from inside your apartment between ten and ten thirty. He said he didn’t hear any voices, though.”

Katie contorted her face. “That still doesn’t explain why I don’t remember anything. There is something I do remember, although it probably isn’t relevant.”

“You never know what can be important, Katie. The smallest thing can break open a case.”

“Wow. Okay, then. So, when I left my apartment on Sunday to check out a place for supper, I remember hearing music. I thought it was a band playing in a club or restaurant, so I followed the sound.” She chuckled. “It turned out to be a guy playing music on his phone while he sat in a tour booth, trying to sell tour packages.”

I frowned. “And you were just passing by?”

“Yeah. It was in the direction I was going anyway, so I stopped and asked if they were hiring. I really need a job, so I’m open to anything. Later, when I was talking to Leslie, she told me not to work at a tour booth because they only pay commission and I’d have to bust my rear to make any money. That’s when she suggested Woody’s to me.”

“Gotcha. Was there anything else important about that tour booth?”

“Not that I recall. The guy gave me a company card and said I’d have to stop at their office to see if they were hiring. Obviously, I didn’t. The card is here somewhere on the coffee table.”

We watched as Katie rifled through the items that had been scattered across the floor last night and were now sitting on the table.

“Wait! What’s that?” Rue asked.

Katie snapped her head his way. “What is what?”

Rue pointed. “That piece of jewelry right there.”

Chapter 14

Katie lifted the dangly earring and frowned. “That’s one of the new earrings I just bought. I wore them Sunday night when I went out, but for the life of me, I can’t find the other one.” She shrugged as she looked around the living room. “Who knows with the mess I woke up to. Maybe it slid under the rug.”

My head nearly exploded. That earring matched the one Forensics had found at the crime scene. Now everything had changed. Was Katie responsible for the murder of our Jane Doe? Was that why her body was as banged-up as it was? Did she and our mystery woman get into a physical fight and the unnamed woman had died because of it? My mind was spinning, and I was sure Rue’s was too.

“Katie, can I see your hands?”

“My hands? Sure, I guess. Why?”

“Just wanted to document if they were injured too. We’ve photographed your arms and legs but not your hands.”

She held out both hands and flipped them palms up then palms down. I looked closely at her knuckles, and they were unscathed. Katie hadn’t beaten that woman to death, but for whatever reason, she was at the scene. Why was she there, and what did she witness? Could that traumatic event have caused her to lose all memory of it? But why would Katie have the injuries she did unless the attacker had gone after her, too, and she was fortunate enough to escape?

We had a lot of legwork to do, and we needed to get to it right away, but I worried about Katie’s safety. The unknown killer had murdered our Jane Doe and likely beaten Katie before she got away, yet her furniture was upended as if someone had attacked her there too. Would the same killer do that without finishing the job? Why wouldn’t he have killed Katie like he killed the woman in the alley? Or maybe he chased Katie home, beat her there, then left, but that didn’t match up with the upstairs tenant’s account. He’d said he didn’t hear any voices at all. None of it made sense, yet we still had to move forward in a logical, methodical way, one step at a time. By doing that, we might solve all of the questions we had about the mounting investigation. One thing we did know for sure was that Katie had been at the crime scene, and we needed to figure out why.

My gut told me we couldn’t leave Katie alone without a lifeline. The killer likely knew where she lived and could come back at any time.

We still had a busy day ahead, and it was half gone already, but no matter what, I needed to take Katie to get a phone before we parted ways.

“Grab your purse.”

“What?”

“Cover your injuries and let’s go. You can’t stay here any longer without a phone. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour of our time.”

The smile on her face was well worth the five-minute wait for her to get ready.

Outside, Katie climbed into the back seat of our cruiser, and I closed the door for her. I rode shotgun, and Rue drove to the nearest big-box store only three miles west of downtown.

We didn’t have time to waste, and we headed directly to the electronics section. I suggested that Katie buy a cheap pay-as-you-go phone, set it up when she got home, then text me the number. It would be good enough for the time being. She chose the one that had good online reviews. After she paid for the phone and we left the store, we crossed the parking lot and were back in the car, all within twenty minutes.

“I can’t thank you enough, Detectives. I would have had to take two buses to get there and the same back, which would have been an hour of riding and waiting.”

I smiled at her. “Not a problem.”

Minutes later, Rue slowed in front of her building and stopped along the curb.

I looked over my shoulder. “Get that phone set up then text me the number. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.” Katie climbed out, and we waited until she was inside the building before we left.

I felt I would be having a supper on the go that night, and when I had a minute, I would call Marie and tell her that I wouldn’t be home to eat with the family. I planned to grab something at Squirrel’s Nest or Woody’s after we conducted more interviews.

Rue whistled. “This is turning into a much bigger mess than I ever expected.”

I let out a long sigh. “You got that right. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I do. Get Royce’s opinion before anything else.” Devon gave me a side-eyed glance.

“Now what?”

“What if the whole ‘I can’t remember’ thing is a ruse? Maybe Katie is black and blue because she fought with that woman then killed her. I’m not saying she deliberately killed her, but what if the fight caused Jane Doe to die? She could have hit her head on the dumpster so hard it did her in, and now as a defense, Katie says she doesn’t remember anything after Squirrel’s Nest. There are dozens of killers who conveniently black out and can’t recall a thing about the murders they commit.”

“All true statements, but let’s talk to the boss first. If anything, we’ll try to retrace Katie’s route after Squirrel’s Nest. There are enough restaurants in the area that we might find footage. At least we know she was at the crime scene, and Tapper puts the TOD between ten p.m. and one a.m.”

Rue agreed. “Let’s get another confirmation on that from him to be sure.”

I made the call during our short drive to the station. Luckily, Tapper was available to answer.

“Tapper, it’s Mitch. I’m calling for your most recent update.”

“What do you need, Mitch?”

“Your best TOD, the tox report, a closer age range, that sort of thing.”

“Well…”

That one word caused my shoulders to slump. It didn’t sound like Tapper had anything more than he’d already given us.

“What you already know hasn’t changed except that the tox report hasn’t come back yet.”

I groaned. “So nothing additional we can put on the news? It seems that the news coverage may be the only way we find out who the victim is.”

“Five foot six, one hundred twenty-nine pounds, blond hair, and hazel eyes. I can submit her dental X-rays to every dentist in Savannah, but we have no evidence that she’s even a local.”

“Yeah, I know. A purse or phone left at the scene would have been helpful.”

“I do have something that might help since we can’t show her face.”

I listened carefully to what Tapper said and was sure it could help identify our Jane Doe. After thanking him, I hung up then told Rue what Tapper’s idea was. We would run it by Royce to see what he thought.

Minutes later, we were back at the station, and we headed directly to Royce’s office. We had plenty of new information to share with him. He welcomed us in then closed his laptop and gave us his full attention.

“Boss, we went to Leslie’s apartment and didn’t find her or anything incriminating there. We spoke with Carol, who said everything seemed normal during the lunch they had together on Sunday. She also said she usually hears Leslie walk by at night when she returns home after work. Carol’s bedroom shares a wall with the hallway, and Carol didn’t hear anything that night. On a side note, Leslie’s bed was made, and everything in that apartment was neat and tidy.”

Royce scratched his cheek then nodded at me to continue.

“After we left Leslie’s residence, we went to Katie’s apartment to give her an update. We have plenty more to do today, but we felt she needed something from us since she was patiently waiting for us to arrive.”

“So you went there next?”

Rue took over. “Yep. She explained that she remembered stopping by a tour booth on her way to find a restaurant for supper Sunday night.”

Royce groaned. “You know who runs most of them.”

“We know. Anyway, she said she only stayed for a minute and asked if they were hiring. The guy at the booth gave her their company card and said to stop by their business to find out. She was sorting through the miscellaneous items on her coffee table to locate that card when I saw the earring matching the one that was found at the crime scene of our Jane Doe.”

“What! How is that possible?”

I spoke up. “Good question since she doesn’t remember anything after Squirrel’s Nest, and we’re pretty sure she left there around eight o’clock or so. Whether she went to Woody’s after that or not, we’ll find out later when they open.”

“And Tapper said Jane’s TOD was between ten p.m. and one a.m.?”

“Yes, and we just confirmed that with him. Before we left Katie’s apartment, we checked her hands for injuries, just in case she beat Jane to death, which seems unlikely.”

“And?”

I shrugged. “And they looked fine.”

“Hmm…”

“Our question is, did the person who killed Jane also attack Katie, and maybe that’s how she lost her earring?”

“Then Katie escaped the killer’s grasp?”

“Possibly. We don’t have any other explanation, yet that still doesn’t explain why her apartment was trashed.”

“No, it sure doesn’t. Okay, what’s the next step?”

“We’ll backtrack to Squirrel’s Nest and see if they have access to the camera footage yet. Hopefully, they have video of Katie talking to Leslie. I want to see if she looks impaired. Then we’ll go to Woody’s to see if they can recall Katie being there Sunday night or have any footage of her sitting at the bar. If she was and we’re lucky, we may be able to follow her along the route during the time frame of the murder.” I sucked in a deep breath before explaining Tapper’s idea. “And then there’s what Tapper suggests we do since we can’t put an image of Jane Doe’s face on the news.”

Royce leaned in, his eyes widening. “Really, and what’s that?”

I grinned. “Tapper is going to forward pictures to my email, and they’ll explain everything. I guarantee you, tomorrow, we’ll have plenty of legwork to do.”

Chapter 15

Once again, we were en route to Squirrel’s Nest. Every repeat visit would slow the progress of the investigation, yet every step we took could help solve the mystery and find the person who’d committed the heinous murder in the alley.

We knew Katie was somehow connected, Leslie had disappeared, and I wondered if the missing Nancy Gaines was somehow involved too.

My mind went to the worst place possible, so I asked Rue’s opinion. “You think there’s a violent predator in Savannah who’s targeting single women?”

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time. We could try to put together some kind of a profile in the morning.”

I chuckled. “We have enough for a profile?”

“Not like a description, but we do know that Katie is new in town, so she doesn’t know Nancy. She didn’t meet Leslie until Sunday, and so far, nobody knows who Jane Doe is. Meaning, the victims aren’t connected to the killer through work, family, or friendship.”

“We don’t actually know that Leslie and Nancy are victims,” I said.

“True, but they’re missing nonetheless.”

I couldn’t argue that fact. “One step and one person at a time. Somehow, that will give us the answers we need.”

We arrived at Squirrel’s Nest for the second time that day. Hopefully, Tom now had access to the camera feed, and we could review Sunday night’s footage.

I asked for him and was told he would be right out. Minutes later, Tom showed up, invited us back to his office, and offered us seats alongside him at his desk. He had Sunday night queued up for us already, which we appreciated, and allowed us to go through the footage at our own pace. He stepped out of the office and said to holler for him if we needed anything.

We settled in and hit Play at the six thirty mark. The two indoor cameras faced the dining area and the bar. There wasn’t an outdoor camera, but we would check with the restaurants and retail spaces across the street to see if they had any. Then we focused on the bar and watched as a male and female bartender, swamped with food and drink orders, waited on patrons. The lighting was dim simply because it was the bar, which had a different ambiance than the restaurant. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a crisp image of anyone. I was sure, though, that when Katie sat down, we would know it was her. She’d told us what she wore that evening, and we knew she had long brown hair and would come in alone.

“Brandon wasn’t kidding. It looks like a lot of dining room patrons are spilling over to the bar area.” I pointed at the screen. “That must be Leslie since she’s the only female bartender working.”

I sped up the footage as the minutes passed. As each customer came to the bar, I slowed the speed, looked to see if it was Katie, then sped it back up. A half hour later, a lone female walked in and took a seat at the bar.

“There she is,” Rue said.

We leaned in and watched the interaction between Katie and Leslie as closely as possible. We couldn’t hear a back-and-forth conversation between them because of the background noise, but hearing what they said wasn’t as important as seeing how Katie behaved while she was there. She and Leslie spoke and laughed, then Katie had one beer and her supper, just like she’d said. During that time, nobody sat down next to her.

I rubbed my chin. “She seems normal and coherent. She’s eating, not fumbling with her food or dropping her utensils.”

Katie stayed for an hour and ten minutes, paid her bill, shook hands with Leslie for the second time, then slid off the barstool and left. Since the camera faced the bar, we couldn’t see which way she headed out the door, but we hoped to find an outdoor camera that would show us that. The problem was that Katie’s apartment, Woody’s, and the alley where the deceased woman was found were all to the left of the restaurant.

Rue cocked his head. “Did she get off that barstool normally, or did she seem to slide off of it?”

I cocked my head. “A lot of people slide off of barstools. I wouldn’t read too much into it. Unfortunately, we can’t tell how she’s walking once she’s beyond the camera’s range.”

I wrote down the time she arrived and the time she left, then we thanked Tom and headed out. Woody’s Dive Bar was next. We decided to walk there so we could follow the route Katie likely would have taken all the way home.

Woody’s was a few blocks from Squirrel’s Nest, and the location where Jane Doe was found fell between the two. Katie’s apartment was several blocks northwest of Woody’s. It made sense that she would be interested in working there—good pay, a fun environment, and within walking distance of her apartment.

We entered Woody’s a half hour after they opened. Luckily, the suppertime crowd hadn’t come in yet, and nightly music hadn’t started. We would be able to talk to somebody at the bar without a lot of noise interrupting our conversation.

After Rue and I sat down, I waved and got the attention of the bartender.

“What can I get you gentlemen?”

“A couple of sodas and information.” I discreetly showed him my badge.

“Sure, whatever I can do to help. I’m Brad.”

“Thanks, Brad. What we need is to speak to a bartender who worked Sunday night.”

The young man scratched his head. “We had live music out on the patio, so our outdoor bar and this one were both being used.” He knuckled the bar top. “I worked here inside with Adam and Carrie, and Beth worked the patio crowd.”

“Okay, so since you’re here right now, we have a few questions for you.”

Brad sat the two sodas in front of us. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“What time did you work?”

“Um.” He rubbed his forehead. “I closed on Sunday night so from seven until midnight. Then an hour of cleanup after we locked the doors. So essentially, I was here until one a.m.”

I turned my phone toward Brad. I had taken a picture of Katie’s face yesterday when I photographed her arms and legs. “Did you wait on this young lady? Her name is Katie, and she’s twenty-two. It was suggested by a bartender at Squirrel’s Nest that she come here and ask about job openings.”

“Yeah, she looks familiar, and I do remember a conversation with her.”

“You do?” My excitement was growing. We were actually getting somewhere. “What did she say and do while she was here?”

Brad frowned. “You obviously know her. Why wouldn’t she have told you the account of that night herself?”

“That’s the problem,” Rue said. “Katie doesn’t remember anything after leaving Squirrel’s Nest.”

“It’s odd that she wouldn’t remember coming here, although I understand her lack of memory as the night went on,” Brad said. “She was here for an hour or so, but it’s weird.”

“What is?”

“The fact that she only had one gin and tonic, but as time went on, she seemed completely wasted. I assumed she drank a lot before she walked in. I even offered to call her a ride home when she left, but she refused. She did ask about a job when she came in. I told her all we had available was part-time work and fill-in positions if someone was sick or took vacation. She seemed disappointed and said that wouldn’t be enough to pay her rent.”

I was confused. “She came in alone, right?”

“Yes, but like I said, she seemed a little off when she walked in. Her forehead had perspiration, and she was pressing her temples. The longer she sat, the worse it seemed.”

“That’s strange. The weather hasn’t been hot and humid.”

“No. Actually, Sunday evening was beautiful. That’s why so many people were enjoying the patio.”

“So back to Katie,” I said. “She only had one drink?”

“Yeah, thankfully.”

“Meaning?”

“A guy sat down next to her about fifteen minutes in. They appeared to know each other because he said something about meeting again. She seemed surprised but happy to see him. He looked familiar, but I don’t know his name. He offered to buy her drinks, but she declined.”

Rue raised a suspicious brow. “And how many drinks did he have?”

Brad snickered. “He had two. I assumed he intended to get her drunk then leave with her, where he’d take advantage of the situation, but he didn’t.”

“So, what happened then?” I asked.

“The guy stuck around for an hour or so then took off. Katie had her head on the bar by then and didn’t even realize he’d left. When she did notice, she got up and tried to pay her tab, but I told her the guy already took care of it. That’s when I offered to get her a driver, but she said she lived nearby and stumbled out the door.”

“So that was when?”

“Just before ten o’clock, I think. I hope she got home okay. She seemed like a nice kid. Oh yeah, that guy told her that his dad said she could work for them if she still wanted to.”

“Really? So he must be the guy from the tour booth. His dad, you say?”

“Yep.”

I frowned at Rue. “Do you think it was Danny Hines?”

“Depends on if it was one of their tour booths Katie went to, but that would be easy enough to find out. I know one thing for sure if it was Danny. He hasn’t spoken to Jimmy since his incarceration. That tells me the Hines son and their shady employees and friends might be up to no good.” I addressed Brad again. “Any cameras that catch the bar?”

Brad pointed above his head. “Just the backbar and till.”

“So you can’t see the people sitting on the barstools?”

“Nah, sorry.”

“So, how about this?” I tapped Savannah’s Best Specialty Tours into my phone, hoping to find a picture of Danny Hines, and I did, although it looked to be a good five years old. I turned my phone toward Brad. “Is this the guy who was here with Katie?”

“Yep, that’s him.”

“Okay, thanks.” I tossed a ten on the bar, and Brad waved it away.

“Keep your money, Detective. I’m glad to help.”

Chapter 16

After returning to the sidewalk, I looked down the street before deciding what to do. It was obvious that unless Katie was playing us, she remembered nothing about what had happened in the alley during the late hours of Sunday night. There was no denying she was there since the earring matching the one in her home proved it.

“We need to take Katie to the alley.”

Rue pulled back. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Something has to jog her memory, and if being there doesn’t do the trick, maybe hypnosis will.”

“And if she’s playing us?”

“Then we need to read her behavior and actions while we’re there.”

Rue shook his head. “It’s almost dark, and we won’t be able to read anything in that alley at night. Being in that dark place might not jog her memory at all.”

“Or, because it’ll look just like it did Sunday night, it might cause her to remember. It’s worth a shot.”

“Did she text you her new number yet?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. “Yeah, she actually did. How about I call her and say we want to take her to dinner and talk some more. We’ll walk to her apartment, pick her up, tell her what we learned at Woody’s, then pass the alley on our way to Squirrel’s Nest for supper. We’ll enter the alley, tell her the missing earring was found there, and see how she reacts.”

“Okay, I’m game.”

“Good. I’ll give her a call.”

I leaned against the redbrick wall of the building next door and tapped Katie’s number into my phone.

She answered right away. “Detective Cannon, what’s up, or are you just checking to see if I sent you the right number?”

I chuckled. I couldn’t help but like Katie, yet we didn’t know her well enough to trust her completely. “We need to talk to you about Woody’s, so since Detective Rue and I are out anyway and it’s a nice night for walking, we thought we’d pick you up and you could walk to a restaurant with us. We’re both starving. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, but I was about to toss a frozen dinner into the microwave.”

“Nah, save it for another time. What we have to talk to you about is important. We can be at your apartment in ten minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll come out to the vestibule. Thanks.”

“You bet.” I ended the call and pocketed my phone. “Poor kid must be hungry.”

“Don’t get too attached, Cannon. We don’t know anything about Katie, and we haven’t spoken with her family either to get a real sense of her.”

I raised my hands. “I know, I know, and maybe we should call her folks anyway. We don’t need her permission to ask her family questions about her personality or background.”

“We’ll do that tomorrow. For tonight, let’s get her reaction to what we learned from Brad, after she enters the alley.”

As we walked, I made a quick call to Missing Persons. I wanted to know if anyone had reported Leslie missing yet or if they’d made contact with her mother, Marilyn Connor, in Henderson. If Leslie had gone there, then she would be one fewer person any of us would have to worry about going forward. The same went for Nancy Gaines.

I was told that contact was made with Marilyn Connor and she’d said she hadn’t seen or talked to her daughter in months. It was up to the Missing Persons Unit to investigate the disappearances of Leslie and Nancy. Our job, since we knew Katie had made it to Woody’s, was to find out what happened after she left the bar.

Just like she had promised, Katie was waiting for us in the vestibule. Wearing an ear-to-ear grin, she waved at us when we walked up the sidewalk. She came out, thanked us again, and walked between us back the way we had come.

I took her willingness to eat with us as simple boredom on her part. Being new in town without friends or a job didn’t provide her much else to do.

While walking, I explained that we had just come from Woody’s and spoken to Brad, the bartender who waited on her Sunday night.

“So I actually went to Woody’s?”

I gave Rue a frown when she seemed genuinely shocked.

“Yes, you were there. There was also somebody who coincidentally showed up at Woody’s a few minutes later, sat next to you, and offered to buy you drinks. Guess you two talked for almost an hour.”

Katie pulled back. “Wait, what? I don’t know anyone in Savannah except you two.”

“How about Danny Hines?” Rue asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t recognize that name.”

“Apparently, he was the guy in the tour booth when you happened by.”

“Oh, okay. I never asked his name, and the business card he gave me only showed the company name, address, and phone number.”

“You didn’t tell him where you were going, did you?”

“No. I wasn’t sure where I was going myself. Squirrel’s Nest looked cool, so that’s the restaurant I chose.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd, then, that he knew exactly where you went even after Squirrel’s Nest?”

Katie shrugged. “Sure, unless it was a total coincidence.”

“Or unless he followed you.”

Katie looked worried. “I don’t even remember me, let alone him, being at Woody’s.”

At that point, we were only a half block from the alley. I gave Rue a discreet nod so he could take the lead.

“We have to check on something quickly before we continue to Squirrel’s Nest. It’s just up here on the left a hundred feet or so.”

“Um, okay.”

Katie hesitated when Rue turned in at the alley, but she continued on with me at her side. As we walked deeper into the alley, Katie slowed down.

“Why are we here? This alley creeps me out.”

“Have you ever been here, Katie?”

“In this alley? Hell no. Alleys scare the crap out of me. I’ve always avoided them, especially in Detroit. Nothing good ever happens in alleys.”

I wondered if she knew just how true that statement was.

Katie looked toward the street. “Can we leave now?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go eat.”

At the restaurant, the hostess seated us, then I asked for three sweet teas. We browsed the menu and ordered our food after our drinks arrived. Once the server was out of earshot, I told Katie why we had gone to the alley.

“Katie, first, I want you to know that we believe what you’re saying.”

She looked relieved.

“Second, I have to tell you that the earring matching the one at your apartment was found in that alley.”

“What? There’s no way I would have gone into that alley alone.”

“But you don’t remember anything from Sunday night,” Rue said. “Maybe you didn’t go in there alone.”

Tears pooled in Katie’s eyes. I was sure she was overwhelmed by the memory loss.

“I can’t think of anyone I would trust, other than you detectives, that I would go into an alley at night with. Even before, I didn’t like it. And why would my earring have been there?” She looked from Rue to me. “And why would the police have found it there? How is that earring a police matter at all? It’s just a stupid earring.”

I took in a slow breath. “Because it was found alongside a dead woman.”

Katie palmed her forehead. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No you aren’t. You’re a strong young woman, and we’re going to figure this out together.”

“Maybe my earring fell off and somebody completely unrelated to anything I did that night found it.”

“And that’s a possibility,” Devon said. “There’s a lot of possibilities, but the fastest way to find the truth is for you to undergo hypnosis.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t believe in all that stuff, do you, as a police department?”

I took over. “We do, and with hypnosis, we’ve solved a handful of investigations that were going nowhere. Will you do that for us, to help solve the case? You just might be the missing link with the answers we need. Help the PD, Katie.”

The arrival of our food interrupted our conversation. I thanked the waitress, and she filled our glasses then walked away.

I studied Katie’s face, and she looked scared. I needed her to stay calm if we expected to get her help. “How about enjoying our food first? You can give us your answer after we eat.”

Chapter 17

After our meal and during the walk to the parked cruiser, we got a yes from Katie. She was willing to help. I mentioned that it would benefit her to learn what had happened that night and why she couldn’t remember much of it. Either she was under the influence of something, or she had a medical condition. Not only would her hypnosis aid the investigation, but it should also put her mind at ease. Hopefully, the identity of the victim and the killer would come to light during her session. Feeling relieved, I thanked her and said that the next day, we would let her know when the session would be scheduled.

Once again, after escorting Katie to her door, I said I wanted to hear the dead bolt turn before we walked away. After hearing the click, we left.

Rue and I discussed the situation during the drive to the precinct.

“We lucked out on that one,” he said. “At least under hypnosis, there won’t be anything Katie can keep from us.”

I frowned at Devon. “Do you think she’s hiding something?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think so, but now we’ll know without a doubt that her story is just as she said.”

“Well, we still have Tapper’s suggestion to tackle in the morning. We’ll get Katie’s hypnosis session scheduled then work on figuring out who our Jane Doe is. By the end of our shift tomorrow, we should have a name for her.”

“That would be good. I’m sure she has family somewhere who would want to know.”

I huffed. “Funny that nobody has reported her missing yet. People always keep in contact with someone, even if it’s just friends or coworkers. Have you ever gone a few days without contacting someone, whether it be a text, phone call, or email?”

Rue shook his head. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”

“And that makes two of us.”

We arrived at the precinct a few minutes later, and Rue parked the cruiser in the secured police car lot. We’d had a long day, and I was more than ready to go home, relax on the recliner, put my feet up, and drink a beer while catching the news.

We said good night and parted ways. During the drive home, I updated Royce over the phone. I told him that Katie had seemed genuinely surprised that she actually did stop by Woody’s, according to the bartender who served her.

“We also learned something pretty stunning.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“The tour booth Katie stopped by Sunday on her way to supper was being manned by Danny Hines.”

Royce groaned. “Another Hines lowlife.”

“Get this,” I said. “The bartender at Woody’s told us Danny walked into the bar a few minutes after Katie did, stayed for an hour, then disappeared. My question is, did he follow her to Squirrel’s Nest then to Woody’s, or was it purely by chance that he walked in when she was there?”

“Hard to say, but you need to question him.”

“Right, and we will tomorrow. The problem is, Katie doesn’t remember him or being in the alley at all Sunday night. She was actually afraid of going in there even with two armed detectives. She said she would never go into an alley alone.”

“Maybe she wasn’t alone.”

“That’s what we said, but because she doesn’t remember, she wouldn’t know who she was with or if somebody else was involved. The good news is she agreed to hypnosis.”

Royce let out an audible breath. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Yep, and I’ll schedule the session first thing in the morning.”

“Good work, Cannon.”

“Thanks, Boss.”

I ended the call, and minutes later, I was home. I parked under the portico and entered the house through the side door that led into the kitchen. The lights were on, the TV played in the living room, and as I headed toward the sound, I grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator.

“You’re finally home,” Mom said when I walked into the living room.

“Yep. Long day, and I’m glad it’s done.” I placed my beer on the table next to my recliner then excused myself. With Marie’s young daughters living in the family home, I never removed my gun and holster anymore except in my bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Marie yelled out, “Did you have supper?”

“Yes, sis. I’m good.”

In my room, I took off my sidearm and suit then slipped on a T-shirt and sweatpants. Then I was comfortable. I returned to the living room, plopped down on the recliner, and reached for my beer. “What’s this?”

Mom grinned. “Peach pie, silly.”

“Peach pie with beer?”

“Of course. Peach pie goes with everything.”

Chapter 18

After a decent night’s sleep, I woke with optimism about the workday ahead.

Today is the day. We’ll learn who Jane Doe is and what role, if any, Katie had at the crime scene.

With my robe’s belt cinched around my midsection, I entered the kitchen, poured myself a cup of coffee, and said good morning to Mom, Marie, and the kids. Gus waddled in, drooling with anticipation for his morning kibble. I asked my nieces to feed Gus then let him out back to do his morning business. Meanwhile, I headed to my bedroom with coffee in hand to shower and dress for the day.

“Feel like pancakes?” Marie called out as I disappeared up the stairs.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks, sis.”

Twenty minutes later, I was downstairs and took a seat at the table with my family. The girls were giggling about something. Mom hushed them then tapped a spot beneath her right ear.

“They’re laughing because you still have shave cream there.”

I played along with my nieces. “So you think that’s funny, huh?”

The girls squealed with delight, and I joined in as I wiped my ear with my napkin.

Marie wagged her finger at both daughters. “Okay, okay, Della and Chloe. Eat your pancakes then brush your teeth and get ready for school.”

I polished off four pancakes slathered in butter and real maple syrup. They were delicious. I thanked Marie and went upstairs to brush my own teeth, then I would be ready to head out.

By seven forty, I’d said goodbye to the family and climbed into my car. The station was less than ten minutes away, and that included stops at red lights.

At the police station, I headed to my desk in the bullpen. Rue hadn’t arrived yet, so I settled in and made a to-do list for the day. We needed to get an update from Forensics to see if they’d found any viable prints or DNA at the crime scene or on Jane Doe’s body. We also needed to speak with Danny Hines to find out why he’d coincidentally arrived at Woody’s after Katie got there. I wanted to know how he knew she had gone to Squirrel’s Nest for supper. I wanted to hear what he talked to her about for an hour after just meeting her earlier that evening. I planned to ask about his offer to buy her drinks and why he wasn’t concerned when he left her at Woody’s alone and completely messed up. Whatever his motive, I was sure it was for his own nefarious reason. Maybe once she left Woody’s, he followed her to her apartment and assaulted her after convincing her to let him in.

We had a busy day ahead and a lot of work to do to put the puzzle pieces together.

I woke up my computer and waited for the facial rec program to acknowledge me as the user. Once it did, I searched the number of spas, nail salons, and hair salons in Savannah’s city limits. We assumed our Jane Doe was local. If she wasn’t, we were up the proverbial creek without a paddle.

Seeing the number of salons let me know right out of the gate that we had our work cut out for us.

Rue walked in seconds later and obviously noticed the frown on my face. “What’s wrong?”

“See for yourself.”

He rounded my desk and looked at the computer screen. Showing on the city map were about forty various salons.

“Shit. We’ll need to narrow that list down with calls then do the legwork after that.”

“Exactly, but first, I’ll get that hypnosis session scheduled for Katie before we get too involved with everything else and I forget.”

I called the hypnotist we had used in the past. She was well aware of what law enforcement needed as far as forensic questioning since she had used her expertise for us many times over the years. I stressed the urgency of the session since it was tied to an unsolved murder that had happened sometime between Sunday night and early Monday morning. Patty Simmons said she could schedule Katie’s session at four o’clock that day. I couldn’t thank her enough. She would conduct the session in an interview room at our precinct so it could be recorded.

We headed to the roll call room to sit in on the morning updates. We listened as the night shift sergeant, Chuck Bleu, told the day crew what had taken place during the overnight shift. After his announcements, he left the podium. The schedule for the next eight to ten hours would be up to Royce.

Rue and I already knew what we would be working on that day—tracking down the salon our Jane Doe might have gone to, getting an update from Forensics, and speaking with Danny. But the order we did things in was also important. I wanted to get the interview with Danny Hines out of the way so we could focus the rest of the day on the salons. Then at four o’clock, through the one-way glass, we would watch the hypnosis session between Patty and Katie. Hopefully, that and the information we got from the salons would reveal plenty.

The updates were over, and we made a quick stop at the coffeemaker at the back of the room before we returned to our desks. It was time to call Danny before anything else.

I dialed the company number to see if he had arrived at work. A home phone wasn’t listed for him, and I didn’t have his cell phone number. If he wasn’t at work yet, I would keep trying. Also, he probably didn’t want to talk to us since the Savannah PD had put his father in jail. If that was the case, we might catch him at the same booth where he had worked Sunday when Katie came across him. The phone rang in my ear five times before the automated messaging system picked up and listed the hours that somebody would be at the office—nine to five.

I groaned, hung up, and shifted my focus to the salons. A good half of them didn’t open until nine o’clock either. We would work the ones that were already open and reevaluate our progress at nine o’clock, then I would try Danny again.

My coffee within reach and the phone numbers of the currently open salons divided up with Rue, I began the calls. In front of me was a close-up shot Tapper had taken of our victim’s fingernails. He had forwarded the image to me so I would be able to describe her nails in detail and ask if any salon employees did nails that way. If so, we would stop in, show them the photograph, and find out if indeed Jane Doe’s nails had been designed there. What I didn’t want to hear was that every salon styled nails the same way that our victim’s looked.

It was time to dig in. Working with the salons that were open, each of us had seven calls to make.

With the list in front of me, I dialed the first one, Nail Lounge. When a woman answered, I introduced myself then asked to speak to the person in charge. I was put on a short hold before another woman, who introduced herself as Dee Frank, got on the phone.

“How may I help you? Katlyn said you’re a detective?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s correct. In front of me, I have a description of a woman’s nails, and I need to know if that’s something your salon normally does.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

I was very specific with the details of Jane Doe’s nails. Dee stopped me before I got too deep into the description.

“We don’t do any hand work here, Detective Cannon.”

“Sorry, I’m not familiar with salon lingo. What exactly does that mean?”

“What we do is similar to a car wrap. The customer picks out the pattern she wants, then that pattern is attached to the acrylic nails with heat. After that, the acrylic nails are applied to the customer’s real nails. We don’t apply designs with glue and tweezers.”

“Got it. Okay, thanks for your time.”

I hung up, drew a line through that salon’s name, then continued on. Of the remaining six salons, three said they did hand designs. Devon had three, and we had twenty-six salons to go. Some offered hair and nails, and others were spas with add-ons. We had a long day ahead, but we wanted to narrow down every salon that applied nail art by hand.

Fifteen minutes remained before the other salons and Savannah’s Best Specialty Tours opened. I made the call to Forensics to get that out of the way. I was given the unfortunate news that even though a few prints had been lifted, none of them were in the system. They would try to find DNA somewhere on Jane’s clothing and update us when they could.

We stood and stretched, then I suggested heading to the cafeteria. A sweet roll and one more coffee were calling my name. Rue was on board, and I saw on his face that the mention of a sweet roll sat well with him.

The pickings were slim as far as sugary treats. The morning guys and the night shift crew that left at eight a.m. snapped up the best choices. I settled for a powdered sugar doughnut, not at all my first choice, then Rue pressed the button for a granola bar.

“This isn’t right, you know.”

“What’s that?” I asked as I tore away the cellophane wrapper.

“That there aren’t more options in that machine.”

I chuckled. “You could bring something from home. Eat breakfast before you get here then bring along a morning snack.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll have to. Better than being pissed off because they don’t have what I really want.”

“Smart thinking. Let’s grab our coffees then continue with the calls.”

Chapter 19

By ten o’clock, we had made the last call to every salon in the greater Savannah area and to Danny’s workplace again. I was told by the woman—a receptionist, I presumed—that Danny wasn’t in. With his old man in lockup where he belonged, Danny was in charge. There was no reason for him not to be there, unless he was avoiding us or didn’t feel the need to run the business from the office.

I tipped my head at Rue. “Let’s get these salons out of the way then track down that rat later.”

He agreed. Out of the forty establishments, sixteen offered hand-applied designs, and each of them did crystal nail tips.

The thought of visiting that many salons made my head spin. They were scattered throughout the city, and I was sure we would be at each one for a minimum of ten minutes before learning whether one of their technicians had designed Jane Doe’s nails. Then they would have to go into their files to find out who that customer was. If the design was a popular one and not a custom job, we’d have even more work cut out for us.

Rue and I plotted the locations of the salons. We needed a route that would reduce our driving time.

Before we left, I brought up the idea of dividing the work of visiting the salons. We would find out the name of our Jane Doe much faster if we did. That would also give us the time we needed to locate Danny Hines.

We split up. Rue took the north and west, and I took the east and south sides of town. As soon as either of us had a confirmation of the pattern by the nail technician who had applied the design, along with the customer’s name, we would call the other.

I set out, and after the third salon and a wasted hour, I had nothing. None of the nail technicians had created the pattern on Jane’s nails.

Once I was back in the cruiser, I called Rue. If he was in the middle of a conversation, I doubted he would pick up—but he did.

“Any luck?” I asked, clearly knowing the answer.

“Nope, and you?”

“Same. How many places have you gone to?”

Rue grunted. “Two, with six more to go.”

“And I have five left. Thank God we didn’t have to hit all forty. Okay, I’m hoping to hear from you again soon.”

Devon chuckled then mentioned that if Jane was a tourist and had gotten her nails done before she left home, we were about to waste our entire day.

I cursed his epiphany then hung up and continued on. According to my cruiser’s navigation, I had two more miles to go before reaching the next salon.

Minutes later, I parked my cruiser and entered the building. All eyes looked my way, likely because a man in a suit wasn’t their typical clientele.

After heading to the counter near the front of the shop, I showed my badge and asked to speak to the owner or salon manager. The lady at the counter said she was the manager and asked how she could assist me.

I turned my phone and showed her the close-up picture of Jane’s nails. “Does this pattern look familiar? I need to know if any of your technicians created this design.”

“May I?”

I passed my phone to her, and she walked to each manicure station and showed the employees. My shoulders slumped and my hope diminished as each of them shook their heads. I wondered if we would have to return to every salon that had employees with the day off.

“Are all your employees here today?” I asked when she returned the phone.

“No, three have the day off.”

I groaned in displeasure then suggested she take a picture of the image on my phone.

“Here’s my card, and you have the image now too. When the other three nail techs come back to work, will you please show them the design and ask if any of them created it? If someone did, either call me or send a text. Better yet, contact me either way so I can check your salon off my list or come back to speak with the designer.”

“Sure. Not a problem.”

I gave her my card, thanked her, and left. Back in the car, I made a note that three employees weren’t there that day.

Just as I programmed the next salon into the navigation system, my phone rang. I frantically fished it from my pocket, praying it was Rue—and it was.

“Got something?”

“Yep, I have a confirmation, and the technician is checking on who the customer was as we speak. Come to Luxe Nails on MLK Jr. Boulevard right away.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I engaged the light bar and stepped on the gas. At least that way, I could avoid the lengthy stoplights I knew I would be stuck at otherwise.

I zoomed around a half-dozen cars, buzzed through three yellow lights, and arrived in front of Luxe Nails seven minutes later.

Where the hell do I park?

I cursed under my breath as I searched for an available parking spot or a pay lot in the area. “Screw it.” I saw Rue’s cruiser, double-parked next to him, kept the light bar flashing, and killed the engine. I hopped out, locked the car, and ran into the salon.

Rue was waiting for me at the counter with a woman who I assumed was the nail tech.

Out of breath, I asked, “What have we got?”

“Three possibilities.”

My heart sank. I wanted one and only one.

Rue held up his hands since I was sure he’d read my face.

“Hold your horses, partner. I have three names, and one of them, you already know.”

That comment piqued my interest, yet we couldn’t talk shop in front of the salon employee. Devon had the sheet of names in his hand, then he thanked the employee for her help, and we walked out together.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Rue. Who is it?”

Devon looked back and made sure the outer door had closed before he spoke. “We need to head in. We have plenty to discuss with Royce.”

“And the woman’s name?”

“You aren’t going to believe it.”

Chapter 20

Hearing the name Rue yelled out as we raced to our cars was the worst thing possible. That alone could easily land Katie in jail.

We would be at the precinct within fifteen minutes, and as I drove, I updated Royce. He needed to hear the name and have that information processed before we arrived. Otherwise, he might blow his stack if we abruptly sprang it on him.

When I told him, I cringed as he cursed into the phone. I reminded him to watch his blood pressure and that we still had the other two women with the same nail design to check out before we got any deeper into Jane Doe’s identity. His response was more cursing, then he hung up.

Rue and I arrived at the police station, parked our cruisers, then rushed inside. We headed straight to Royce’s office, just as he’d instructed. I gave the door two hard raps and waited until he yelled for us to come in.

When we entered, Royce rubbed his forehead, cursed some more, then pointed at the guest chairs. “Sit your asses down and explain clearly what you’ve learned.”

Since the discovery was at one of the salons Rue had gone to, he responded. “I showed the fingernail picture to the employees, and one tech said she created it. She said it was a popular pattern and she did similar work on several customers. She went to her station, pulled the customer file, and found the three ladies who requested that design.”

“Okay, and all three actually got that pattern on their nails?”

Rue shrugged. “I assume so. Otherwise, that design wouldn’t be in their file.”

“And the design was identical on each customer?”

“I’m just going by what the tech told me, Boss. Could one lady have six crystals on each nail tip and another have five? I guess so, but the overall design was the same.”

“Well, before we get our panties in a bundle, check out the other two women and make sure they’re alive. Go do that now and get back to me before lunchtime. I’ll contact Tapper and update him. If we can get a DNA match with Jane Doe from one of those women, we’ll finally have a positive ID.” Royce pointed at the door. “Go on. Get busy.”

Rue and I headed to the bullpen. We would look up the other women’s names using the People Search database since that was all we had. The salon employee hadn’t shared their addresses and didn’t really have a reason to. Hopefully, we would find the addresses and phone numbers for both and contact them. If we were successful and they were alive, that information would lead us to the obvious conclusion. We would know who Jane Doe was.

“You look up Melanie Adams, and I’ll take Jessica Johns. Even if they identify themselves as the women in question, we’ll still have to meet them in person to be sure their driver’s license matches their description. Then we’ll take a look at their nails.”

“Got it.”

At my computer, I typed in the People Search URL. Once the website popped up, I tapped Jessica Johns’s name into the search bar then waited as the site did its thing. Seconds later, an address popped up, but no landline was listed.

“Damn it. These days, nobody has a home phone.” There wasn’t a way to get her phone number, but as a second measure, I typed her full name and address into the DMV database to see if I found a match and to learn her age. The address was confirmed, and the woman was thirty-two. She was in the age range Tapper had given us for Jane Doe. I didn’t have a choice except to bang on Jessica’s door unannounced and cross my fingers that she was home. If she wasn’t, I would leave my card, scratch out a note asking her to call me, and hope she would. I waited for Rue to complete his search to see if a phone number was listed for Melanie. It wasn’t. We were both in the same boat and would go to their homes and confirm their identities in person. We had no other choice.

With the addresses confirmed, we headed out. Jessica’s apartment was closest to the precinct, so that would be our first stop.

After parking, Rue and I walked to the eight-unit building and checked the resident directory. Jessica’s apartment was 104, a first-floor apartment and likely facing the back of the building. We wouldn’t notice anyone looking out the front window to see who was there. I rang the buzzer, and we waited, but it wasn’t looking good. I couldn’t leave my card in her door either, since we couldn’t get beyond the secured vestibule entrance.

Rue sighed. “Now what?”

“Let’s walk around the back. Doubt that anyone has patio doors, but it’s worth taking a look.”

We rounded the building and saw a single steel door that logically went into a main hallway, just like the door at the front of the building.

“This is a waste of time,” I said. “Wait a minute. We know Jane’s height and weight. Let’s go back to the cruiser and pull up their driver’s licenses again. Not everyone is the same height and weight that our victim was.”

Rue agreed. “Yeah, we should have thought of that right away. That method will be a good indicator of which woman could be Jane, but at some point, we’ll still need to confirm the other women are alive.”

I shook my head. “The fact is we didn’t go to every salon that does hand work. What if there are more designs like that?”

“Let’s check the DMV first to see what Melanie and Jessica’s heights and weights are before we do anything else.”

After plopping down on the passenger seat and waking up the computer, I opened the DMV website and entered Jessica’s full name again. I looked at her height and weight then the expiration date on her license. Height could vary slightly, but over time, weight could go up or down. Even with the height, there was always the margin of error between the standing height, prone height, and the person’s status as dead or alive. The difference wouldn’t be much—not more than an inch, I presumed.

My eyes darted to the right, where Jessica’s description was shown.

“Okay, she’s five foot five, a typical height, and one hundred forty-two pounds.”

Rue cocked his head. “And Jane weighed one hundred twenty-nine pounds, according to Tapper.”

“True”—I pointed at the expiration date on the license—“but this license was issued three years ago. Jessica could have lost weight over that length of time.” I blew out a discouraged breath. “Let’s try Melanie. If her height is substantially different, then we can eliminate her since weight has too many variables.”

I deleted Jessica’s information and typed in Melanie’s name. When the copy of her driver’s license popped up, I immediately checked her height.

“Yes! She’s five foot nine. There’s no way Tapper could have made a three- to four-inch height error. Let’s eliminate her.”

We knew that according to DMV records, Jessica drove a white 2021 Corolla. I planned to ask Royce to check with Patrol to see if they could spare a unit to sit on her apartment building until she got home. We needed to know whether she actually arrived home later. If she was dead, she certainly wouldn’t be going back to her apartment anytime soon.

That left Leslie, and she was scheduled to work at Squirrel’s Nest that night. I didn’t want to wait until her evening shift, so we drove to her apartment again. If she didn’t answer her door, I planned to buzz Carol and ask if Leslie had ever returned home.

Rue turned the cruiser around and aimed the nose in the direction of Leslie’s street. While Devon drove, I called Royce and asked about a unit dropping an anchor on Jessica’s apartment. He agreed to make the call.

We arrived at Leslie’s building a few minutes later, buzzed her apartment, and stood silently as we waited. I gave Rue a frown.

“This isn’t looking good,” I said.

“Buzz Carol’s unit.”

I pressed the buzzer and waited for Carol to answer. It took only a second before a voice spoke up through the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Carol, it’s Detectives Cannon and Rue. Do you have a few minutes to talk to us?”

“Sure, I’ll let you in.”

I thanked her, waited for the buzz of the door, then pulled it open.

Rue and I took the stairs to the second floor, where Carol waited in the hallway just outside her apartment. She invited us in, but at that point, we had only one question—had Leslie ever come home?

“I’m so sorry, but she still hasn’t returned. I’ve watched for her, I’ve called her, and I’ve banged on her door, but nothing. What happened to her, Detectives? How could she just disappear?”

I gave Rue a quick glance. My gut told me where Leslie was—in the coroner’s office. But we needed that DNA match to verify it. That meant we needed to enter Leslie’s apartment again, but that time, we would take her toothbrush back with us so the crime lab could get a DNA sample from it.

I wondered if Mr. Griffith would demand a warrant for us to enter. We’d gotten lucky during the welfare check since he’d unlocked the door for us. It couldn’t hurt to ask again as long as we were there.

We parted ways with Carol, promised to let her know as soon as we learned something, then went downstairs and knocked on Mr. Griffith’s door. Luckily, he was home. By the look on his face, it was obvious that he recognized us. He asked if we had found Leslie. We had to tell him we hadn’t yet.

“So what does that mean? Did she just skip out on her rent and I’ll be responsible for emptying out the apartment before I can put it up for rent again?”

“Not so fast, sir,” Rue said. “We’re pretty sure we have a missing person on our hands, so at this point, her property needs to remain where it is. There is one thing we need from you, though.”

Mr. Griffith raised a suspicious-looking brow. “Yeah, what’s that?”

Rue continued. “We just need another minute in Leslie’s apartment. Since she’s missing, we have to get a DNA sample to put in her file. Her toothbrush would suffice, and I promise, we’ll be in and out in under a minute.”

“Yeah, I guess if it’s for the greater good. I’d hate to see harm come to her. She’s always been a good tenant. I’ll grab the key ring, and you can meet me upstairs.”

“One more thing,” I said. “If you wouldn’t mind getting a zipper bag for the toothbrush, we’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Rue and I returned to the second floor and waited for several minutes. The elevator light flashed, the doors parted, and Mr. Griffith stepped out. I couldn’t fault him for using the lift since he was out of shape, but climbing the stairs could do him some good.

He jangled the key ring, and I gave him a nod.

“You’ll make it quick?”

“I promise.”

“Good because my TV show is on pause.”

“We’ll only be a second.”

I took the bag from Griffith, he opened the door, then Rue and I walked past him. We headed straight down the hall and into the bathroom. Since we were pretty sure Leslie didn’t go on a trip, there wouldn’t be a reason for her toothbrush to be missing, and it wasn’t.

Using a washcloth, I lifted it out of the cup then dropped it into the bag and zipped it closed. We were done. Leslie’s toothbrush would go directly to the crime lab, and hopefully, but sadly, we could have a definitive match first thing in the morning.

Chapter 21

After dropping off the toothbrush with Forensics, we headed to the station and up to Royce’s office. I wanted to know if he had heard anything from the patrol units sitting on Jessica’s apartment building.

Rue knocked on the commander’s office door, and Royce called out for us to come in.

“Boss, anything yet from Patrol?” I asked.

He nodded for us to sit, so we did.

“Yeah, they updated me five minutes ago. The units saw the white Corolla pull into the lot and park. A woman matching Jessica’s description got out and walked to the front door. They approached her, showed their badges, then asked if she was in fact Jessica, and she said she was. As a second measure, they asked to see her driver’s license. There’s no doubt, Jessica Johns is alive and well.”

I shook my head. “I guess that narrows things down. There’s nobody else Jane Doe can be other than Leslie Connor. So, the next question is who killed her?”

Royce rubbed his chin. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“I’m not so sure, Boss. Katie doesn’t remember anything after leaving Squirrel’s Nest.”

“So she says. Good defense if you’re a murderer.”

Rue took his turn. “What reason would a new girl in town have to murder someone they literally met just hours earlier? It makes no sense at all.”

“No it doesn’t, but it also doesn’t explain Katie’s bruises or the fact that her matching earring was found at the crime scene. What time is her hypnosis?”

“Four o’clock in one of the interview rooms so we can record it.”

Royce tipped his wrist. “You have a half hour to get Katie, bring her back here, and give her time to settle in before Patty Simmons arrives. You two better get going. Call Katie en route and tell her to be outside. That way, you won’t have to wait for her.”

“Roger that, and we should be back in twenty minutes or so. We’ll put her in an interview room, then we’ll watch and record the session through the one-way glass.”

With Royce’s go-ahead, we left, and as we crossed the lot to the cruiser, I called Katie. I kept the conversation short and told her to be outside in ten minutes. We would pick her up and take her to the station for the hypnosis session with Patty.

“I’m nervous, Detective Cannon.”

“That’s normal, Katie, but Patty is a professional who we’ve worked with a number of times in the past. She’ll do whatever it takes to make you comfortable during the session. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, I guess. I’ll be outside in a few minutes.”

I hung up with my thoughts all over the place. Had we been wrong since the beginning? Could Katie really be a cold-blooded killer? If she was, she’d completely fooled both Rue and me, and we had been sympathetic idiots for days.

Rue gave me a glance. “You’re pretty quiet over there.”

I let out a long sigh. “Yeah. I wonder if we’ve been played all along.”

“Well, if we were, she was stupid enough to stick around when she should have left town immediately. My gut says something else is going on, but either way, we’ll have our answers in less than an hour.”

Minutes later, Rue pulled to the curb in front of Katie’s building. She stood near the front door and jogged down to our cruiser when she saw us. I got out and opened the back door for her, and she climbed in.

As Devon drove toward the station, Katie asked a dozen questions. I saw that she was genuinely nervous.

“So what do I do when I’m in the room with Patty? I don’t really believe in hypnosis. I’ve seen that type of thing at carnivals, and it just seems fake to me.”

I looked over my shoulder at her. “Just trust that Patty knows what she’s doing. She’s a pro, and the police station has complete confidence in her.”

Katie let out a nervous-sounding chuckle. “Okay, if you say so.”

We reached the precinct, and Rue parked in our lot. We entered through the side door, walked down a flight of stairs, then went to the first interview room, where we would wait for Patty to arrive.

“Have a seat, Katie. Patty will be here in a few minutes,” I said.

Rue and I took seats across from Katie and waited with her. I watched as she fidgeted with her hands.

A knock sounded on the door—Patty had arrived. After she entered, I introduced her to Katie. They exchanged greetings, then Rue and I walked out.

In the observation room, we set the camera to record then took seats and watched. We would see the entire session as it played out in front of us. The recording would be instrumental in learning more about the murder. Either Katie was guilty, or somebody else was, but knowing the truth was key no matter what the outcome.

Patty asked Katie simple life questions, probably meant to relax her and reduce her anxiety so the session would prove more successful. Katie needed to be receptive to the idea and connect with Patty in order to actually be hypnotized.

I wondered if she would resist, and if she did, could there be a reason for it?

About fifteen minutes of small talk and courtesies passed before Patty worked her hypnosis magic. Speaking in a soothing voice, Patty told Katie to breathe in and out slowly and with each breath to relax even more. Katie had begun to transition into a state of calm and mental awareness. That transition would improve her focus and concentration. What was buried in her mind should come to light if she’d actually participated in the attack. If her amnesia was real, I didn’t know whether hypnosis could pull that information out of her.

Yesterday, during a phone call to Patty, I had gone over Katie’s story about Sunday night and what she did and didn’t remember. I also sent Patty a list of questions to ask Katie. If Katie answered honestly or could even answer the questions at all, we would know whether she was the perpetrator.

Once it appeared that Katie was actually under hypnosis, Patty began. She asked Katie what Sunday was like—the weather, her mood, what she did before leaving her apartment in search of a restaurant for supper and a potential job opportunity. I was sure her answers were authentic since Katie had remembered those events and responded honestly when we asked the same questions on Monday.

Chapter 22

During the session, Patty dug deeper and had Katie walk her through her route on the way to finding a restaurant for supper. “Tell me what happened when you left your apartment.”

“I was happy and excited to explore.”

“So you headed toward the restaurant area? Did you make any stops before you decided on Squirrel’s Nest?”

Katie frowned as her mind replayed that early evening. “I heard music playing, but it was coming from a kiosk.”

“What kind of kiosk, Katie?”

Katie rubbed her forehead. “A Savannah tour kiosk. I asked the man if they were hiring. He said he would ask his father, who owned the company.”

“Okay, then what?”

“I continued on then saw Squirrel’s Nest.”

“Why did you choose that restaurant?”

“It looked like a fun place.”

“Okay, and you had supper there?”

Katie nodded.

“Can you verbalize your answer for me, Katie?”

“Yes, I ate at the bar.”

“Then you left?”

“I don’t know. The bartender said Woody’s might be hiring.”

“Woody’s? So you went there? Describe the walk to Woody’s for me.”

Katie’s frown and hesitation spoke volumes. She was stuck. She really couldn’t remember, but we were counting on Patty to pull that information from deep within Katie’s subconscious.

“Katie? Did you go to Woody’s?”

“I have no memory of it. Nothing is clear anymore.”

“Okay, let’s take it step by step, inch by inch, if you can. Is that something you’ll try to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good. So you finished your meal, paid your bill, and walked to the door. Which way did you turn?”

“Everything is foggy.”

“Foggy then or foggy now?”

“Both.”

“Okay. Take yourself back to Squirrel’s Nest when you were leaving. Do you feel yourself walking toward Woody’s? Take in your surroundings. Can you hear your shoes clacking against the sidewalk or the sound of music playing?”

“Yes, music from the kiosk.”

“No, from Woody’s. There was a band playing on the patio that night. Do you remember seeing that? Are you smiling, laughing, enjoying the moment? Can you tell me how you feel?”

“My head is spinning, and people are dancing.”

“Did you drink too much at Squirrel’s Nest?”

“I had one beer.”

“Do you know why your head is spinning? Do you have medical problems?”

“No. I think I’m dehydrated. I don’t drink enough water.”

“So what did you do?”

“I had a bottle of water in my purse, so I drank it.”

“That was smart to bring water with you.”

Katie shook her head. “I didn’t. The tour booth guy gave it to me.”

Patty glanced at the mirror, knowing full well we were watching. She looked alarmed then turned back to Katie. “What happened next, Katie?”

Katie squeezed her temples. “I have no idea.”

Chapter 23

Patty gradually reversed Katie’s hypnosis. We waited until Katie appeared normal again before I stepped out of the observation room and knocked on the interview room’s door. A second later, Patty peeked out.

“Can we talk to you privately for a minute?” I asked.

“Sure. I’ll let Katie know that I’ll be right back.”

Patty closed the door then opened it again a few seconds later. She stepped into the observation room to talk with us.

“So did she really hit a brick wall? She honestly can’t remember anything at Woody’s?” Rue asked.

“It appears that she struggled to recall that scene at Woody’s but couldn’t. If she can’t remember being there for, what, an hour or more you said?”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

Patty shrugged. “Then I doubt that she can remember anything after that either.”

I groaned in disappointment. “That’s the most important part. The bartender at Woody’s confirmed she was there and left drunk and alone, but it sounds like she was impaired before she even reached Woody’s.”

“I agree with that assessment, Detective Cannon, yet I doubt that I can lead her into that alley under hypnosis if she can’t even remember anything two hours prior to that.”

“So she’s being straight with us?”

“I think she is. She can only answer what she knows to be true. Those are actual memories. She can’t make up anything under hypnosis.”

“Okay. Thanks, Patty. I guess that’s all we need right now. We sure appreciate your help.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand. Katie should be completely alert and back to normal by now.”

“We’ll take care of her,” Rue said, “and thanks again.”

We planned to discuss the session with Royce after taking Katie home. I was sure he would want to watch the session while we were gone, so I would set up the recording for him before we left.

Rue took Katie to our lunchroom and bought her a soda and a bag of chips while I took care of the recording for Royce. He should be able to view the entire session before we got back.

As we drove to Katie’s apartment, she asked if she did okay. The only thing I could tell her was that she had done the best she could. It was up to us to figure out the rest.

Minutes later, we dropped her off, told her to be careful, and said we would be in touch. Until we put the puzzle pieces together, we had nothing more to share.

After returning to the station, we sat with Royce in his office. He had watched the hypnosis recording and agreed that Katie seemed authentic in her responses to Patty’s questions.

He said, “We won’t know without a doubt if Jane Doe is Leslie until tomorrow, yet we’re leaning that way. I want to play the devil’s advocate for a moment, say what I need to say, then wait for your rebuttal.”

“What if we don’t have one?” Rue asked.

Royce groused. “Just play along, Devon.” He waited for our nods then began. “Okay, let’s say Katie had nothing to do with Jane’s death. How would her earring have gotten to the site?”

I scratched my cheek as I thought. “As impaired as she might have been, it could have fallen off without her realizing it.”

“Okay, suppose that happened. So by pure coincidence, the killer was the person who picked it up, took it to the crime scene, killed Jane, then planted the earring there as evidence. How logical is that?”

Rue rolled his neck then groaned. “Not very.”

I added my take. “That would also make one wonder if the killer deliberately planted it there to incriminate Katie. She doesn’t know anyone in Savannah, so how could she and the killer be connected, and why plant the earring at the scene at all?”

Our commander raised an eyebrow. “Again, something to ponder. Maybe the killer wanted to throw us off balance by making us think Jane was murdered by a woman.” Royce cleared his throat then continued. “Next question, how did Katie end up black and blue? She didn’t beat herself up.”

I jerked my chin toward Royce. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Back to that impaired state. Maybe she was so off-balance she fell a dozen times during her walk home. Maybe once she got home, she stumbled in that small apartment and knocked the furniture over herself.”

“Also a possibility.”

“We have to press Katie.”

I pulled back. “Hypnosis didn’t give us anything more than we already knew except that she might have been dizzy before she reached Woody’s. That probably explains her memory loss.”

“Right, but something has to shock her memory. Have you showed her the picture of Jane’s fingernails?”

I didn’t know where Royce was going with that suggestion. “No, since we’ve already concluded that Leslie is the victim.”

“Maybe not. You didn’t go to every salon. For now, go back to Katie’s apartment, show her the picture of the fingernails, and read her expression. She may have a memory of seeing Leslie’s nails when sitting at the bar or a flash of those fingernails during the commission of the crime.”

I doubted that Royce’s suggestion would get us any further than we were, but I couldn’t argue with my boss. What he said was what we had to do.

A quick phone call to Katie was enough to give her a heads-up that we were going back to her apartment. She wondered why, and I said I would explain when we got there.

It was nearly five thirty when we walked through Katie’s door. She looked perplexed, but we didn’t have time to sugarcoat an explanation. We needed to learn who the killer was.

After she offered us seats and took one herself, she sat patiently and stared at us. I had to get to the point, so I pulled my phone from my pocket.

“Katie, take a look at this picture. We need to know if the image looks familiar to you.”

I pulled up the picture, spread it with my fingers to fill the screen, then turned my phone toward Katie.

She jumped. “Oh my God! Where did you get that picture, and why do you even have it?”

“Do you recognize that nail art?” Rue asked.

“Um, yeah. The bartender at Squirrel’s Nest had nails just like that. I noticed them right away simply because they were so flashy.”

“So, Leslie? Is that who you’re talking about?” I asked.

“Yes, Leslie. She’s the bartender who suggested I go to Woody’s.”

“Did you and Leslie have a disagreement while you sat at the bar?”

Katie stared at me as if I had lost my mind. “Why on earth would you ask me that? I don’t even know her.”

We had hit another brick wall. We couldn’t press her any further until the DNA results were confirmed in the morning. If Jane was indeed Leslie, Katie would be getting another visit from us, and that time, we wouldn’t be quite as cordial.

Chapter 24

We had nothing else to work with that evening, so we passed off the department duties to our night shift crew. Before leaving, I made one last job-related call—to Squirrel’s Nest—to ask if Leslie had shown up for work. I was pretty sure the response would be no. It was, and I wasn’t surprised.

Devon and I discussed the case as we crossed the parking lot to our vehicles.

“We’ll have the answers we need tomorrow,” Rue said as he opened his driver’s-side door.

I let out a sarcastic chuckle. “So you know who the killer is?”

“Sorry. Let me clarify that. We should know who Jane is tomorrow.”

“Right, and then the real mystery begins. Have a good night, buddy. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

I climbed into my car, headed south, and called Marie to tell her that I would be home for supper. I looked forward to the evening meal with my family, especially that night after Marie told me Mom was making homemade lasagna. We were also having a tossed salad and hot garlic bread.

I pressed the gas pedal a little harder. I would have just enough time to change out of my work clothes and leisurely drink a beer before sitting down to eat.

Minutes later, I pulled into the driveway of our large historic home, one I would never consider moving from since it held too many family memories. A beautiful residence, it was located in Thomas Square, a few blocks south of Forsyth Park on Thirty-Seventh and Drayton, a highly desirable address.

My adorable nieces, Della and Chloe, ran to my car to walk in with me, yapping at the same time to tell me how their school day had gone. I laughed, engaged with them, then entered the house, where Gus was as excited to see me as the girls were.

“Has he gone outside lately?” I asked.

Marie pointed her chin at the backyard slider. “Girls, you know Gus needs to go out every night before supper. Go on. Give him ten minutes of business and playtime.”

“Yes, mama,” said Chloe, eight years old going on fifteen.

I chuckled, walked to my mom working tirelessly at the stove, and kissed her cheek. “Smells delicious in here, Mom.”

“Thank you, dear. Now get changed. We’ll be eating in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I winked at Marie as I headed to the stairs.

Within fifteen minutes, just like Mom had said, supper was on the table, and we were taking our seats.

Our meal was delicious, and after two servings of lasagna, I was stuffed. I thanked our mom, cleared the table, then loaded the dishwasher with the girls’ help.

I planned to spend the next few hours relaxing on my recliner, with Mom and Marie controlling what we watched on TV. My mind was on Katie anyway. Somehow, some way, we needed to get her to remember more about Sunday night.

That thought took me back to Danny Hines. We never did get a chance to speak with him during our workday. He wasn’t at their office, and I didn’t have a cell number for him. The receptionist didn’t offer one either.

Tomorrow was another day. One way or another, Rue and I would track down Hines, even if it meant watching for him to walk out of his home in the morning.

After the second reality show ended, I asked to watch a few minutes of the news. Normally, if anything breaking had popped up, it would be the first segment aired. The local news began with the normal flow. Seeing nothing urgent that would keep me awake, I said my good nights and went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up feeling that I had slept well. I wasn’t groggy or overly tired like I was on many other mornings. I had turned off my mind last night since there wasn’t anything I could do until the results came back from the DNA comparison. That alone had helped me sleep soundly.

After saying good morning to the family and filling a cup with coffee, I returned to my room and twisted the shower handle to Hot. While the water heated, I picked my clothes for the day and placed them on the bed.

With one more gulp of coffee, I set the cup on the sink then stepped into the shower. I relished the feeling of the hot spray before washing my body.

Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed and headed downstairs. If Marie hadn’t made a family breakfast, I would have helped myself to a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, and another cup of coffee. By seven forty-five, I wanted to be in my car and on my way to work.

I let Gus out back, closed the slider, then filled his food and water dishes.

“Want breakfast?”

I glanced at Marie then the clock. In twenty minutes, I would have to leave. “Depends on what you have in mind. I’ve got to leave in twenty minutes.”

“Then forget it. I was going to make Denver omelets, but it’ll take too long.”

“Nice idea. Maybe over the weekend. I’ll just make myself a bowl of oatmeal.”

Marie poured another cup of coffee for me then told the girls to chase Gus around the yard for a few minutes. He loved playing with my nieces.

As always, I left the house right on time. I planned to talk to Royce about sitting on Danny Hines’s home until he showed. I didn’t know whether he was keeping himself unavailable on purpose, but if he was, I wondered why.

I arrived at the station a few minutes before our updates began and ran my idea by Rue. He was on board to drop an anchor on Hines’s house unless Royce had other plans for us that morning. If we couldn’t do it ourselves, maybe Patrol could take over the task. That day, we would get the DNA results and finally be able to contact Jane Doe’s next of kin. We would do our best to follow her tracks to that fateful alley where her life had been snuffed out Sunday night. Once we found Danny, we would interview him to hear where he went after he left Woody’s around nine thirty. I wondered why he had gone there at all. Did he follow Katie, and if so, what was his reason? Or was it purely coincidental that he showed up at Woody’s when she was there? There wasn’t a lot about the Hines family that we could trust. They were shady and teetered on the edge of criminal activity every chance they got.

Thankfully, the updates were short, and our meeting adjourned within ten minutes. Rue and I waited until Royce was back in his office then headed that way. I knocked on the doorframe of the half-open door out of respect for our boss. Royce looked up then waved us in.

“What have you got, guys?”

I spoke up first. “We still haven’t tracked down Danny Hines. We’re thinking of sitting on his house until we hear from Forensics about the DNA report.”

Royce scratched his cheek. “First, tell me what Katie said about the picture of Jane Doe’s fingernails.”

“She absolutely recognized them,” Rue said. “She even seemed shocked that Mitch had the picture on his phone.”

“And whose nails did she say they were?”

“She said they were, or looked just like, Leslie’s.” I raised my brows. “But—”

Royce pulled back. “But what?”

“But she only mentioned that she saw them at Squirrel’s Nest. There wasn’t that aha moment where the expression on her face told us more.”

“You mean remembering the alley?”

“Exactly.”

As he tapped his fingertips on the desk, Royce looked to be thinking. “Okay, go sit on Danny’s house, but the minute I hear from Forensics, and if Jane is actually Leslie, you’ll have to haul Katie in for police-style questioning. No more nice guys.”

I grunted. “Understood, but it’s doubtful that she can tell us anything more than what she said under hypnosis.”

Royce let out a long sigh. “One way or another, somebody is going down for the murder. And if it turns out to be Katie, her amnesia story won’t save her.”

Chapter 25

With our vending machine coffees sitting in the cup holders, Rue and I watched out the windshield for movement at Danny Hines’s home. His car, still parked in the carport, told us he hadn’t left his house yet that morning.

Savannah’s Best Specialty Tours didn’t open until nine o’clock, so unless we were called away before he exited his house, he had no choice but to talk to us as soon as he walked out his front door.

I glanced at my watch—8:28.

“You going to do that every five minutes?” Rue asked.

“What? Check the time?”

“Yeah. You seem as nervous as a cat with its tail under a rocking chair.”

“Nah, not nervous, just impatient.” I took a sip of my lukewarm coffee and continued staring at the front door. Not a minute later, I saw movement. “Hey, Danny is coming out!”

I placed my coffee in the cup holder, wiped my mouth, and grabbed the door handle. I snapped my head toward Rue. “Ready?”

“I’m more than ready to talk to that dirtbag.”

We exited the cruiser, crossed the street, and headed up his sidewalk as he was coming down.

“What the hell?”

I grinned. “Avoiding us, Danny?”

“Why would I do that when I didn’t know you were looking for me?”

“Right.”

“Look, I have to get to work. I’m the—”

“Guy in charge now that your old man is in lockup?”

“Yeah, thanks to Savannah’s finest.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but you have some questions to answer before you go anywhere. And you can be sure we’ll verify everything you say.”

Danny spewed out a handful of expletives. “This is harassment.”

“Nah, just questions that we have the right to ask of any person who may have information we could use.”

“Whatever. What do you want to know?”

I looked down his upper-middle-class street. “So, you want all your neighbors to be gossiping about the cops talking to you right in front of your house?”

Danny glanced both ways. People were out by that time of morning. They walked their well-groomed dogs and came outside to get their morning newspapers. Street-facing curtains were opening up.

“Fine. I don’t have long, though.”

I chuckled. “You’ll have as long as it takes.”

After returning to the house, Danny turned the key in the lock and pushed open the heavy oak door. We entered into an arched foyer with a beautiful Saltillo-tiled floor. Although the family were lowlifes, I had to admit they had good taste in homes and vehicles. Old money was still paying dividends.

We were led into the foyer’s closest room, a library. Danny pointed at a couple of leather barrel chairs, then he plopped down on an overstuffed velvet couch.

He snarled in obvious impatience. “Now, what can I do for you officers?”

Rue looked at me and laughed. “Did you get demoted?”

“Nope. How about you?”

“I didn’t either. I guess Mr. Hines is just plain ignorant since he knows full well that we’re detectives. Are you getting stupider as time goes on, Danny?” Rue asked.

“Up yours. Do I need to call my attorney?”

“You aren’t under arrest—not yet anyway—so no,” I said. “That is, unless you have something you need to get off your chest.” I cocked my head and stared at him.

“Real funny. Just get on with the questions.”

Rue pulled out his notepad and nodded that he was ready, then I began.

“Tell me about Sunday.”

“Sunday? Why that day?”

“I’m asking the questions, or did you already forget how this goes? What did you do Sunday from when you got up until you were back in bed?”

“You seriously want to know how many times I took a piss?”

“We don’t need to hear about your personal issues, just what you did once you left the house.”

Danny ran his fingers through his thick black hair. “I went to the office at noon and did the monthly bills.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“Nope. It was Sunday, so nobody else was there.”

I tipped my head. “Go on.”

“Then I ordered lunch and ate it there. After that, I started my rounds.”

I asked for an explanation. “What does that actually mean?”

“It means I check on the guys running the kiosks. I need to make sure they’re actually at work and doing what they’re supposed to do to get business.”

“You mean like playing loud music to attract people to the stand?”

“Yeah, but—”

“But how did we know that? Let’s just say a little bird told us.”

Danny gave me a scowl. “I got to the third kiosk and saw it was unmanned. Gordy Kincaid was supposed to be there, and he wasn’t. I called him. He said he felt like crap and wasn’t getting any customers, so he called the office and left a message that he was leaving. Of course, I didn’t know he had left because I was out checking on the employees.”

“Then what?”

“Because it was only two o’clock, still early enough to sell a few package deals, I opened the stand again, turned on some music, and hoped for the best.”

I grinned at Devon. “Talk about dedication.”

“Hey, those Savannah tour stands have been around forever. They’ve created wealth for my family.”

“Really? Maybe we should have a talk with your accountant and check your tax returns. Isn’t that why your old man tried to take out the competition? If memory serves me right, I’m sure there’s been more illegal drugs going out of those stands than tour packages.”

“And you and your team of dimwits never proved that, did you?”

I ignored his taunt and told him to continue. “So how long did you work that stand?”

Danny scratched his cheek. “I don’t know, maybe until six o’clock.”

“How many sales did you make? Tour-related sales, I mean.”

“Ha ha. I’d have to check the books.”

“Remember a young lady who was new in town and looking for work? She stopped at your booth right around six o’clock. She said her name was Katie.”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t recall.”

“Really? She identified the man in the booth as you, and Brad the bartender at Woody’s said you bellied up to the bar right next to Katie later on. You even said something like, ‘We meet again.’ Why would you say that if you didn’t recognize her?”

Rue piped up. “And why would you offer to buy her drinks but then leave her at Woody’s alone and seemingly inebriated?”

Danny snickered. “Brad the bartender must have seen someone else. I went home after I closed down the stand and didn’t go out again until the next day.”

“So, you’re sticking to that story even after two people identified you from a photo?”

“Yep, I sure am.”

“Oh, one last thing. Katie said you gave her a bottle of water.”

“We always give people water. It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

I chuckled. “So you admit you gave her water?”

Danny’s face went red. “Get out of my house. I have business to take care of.”

“I’m sure you do. One last thing. Do you know Leslie Connor? She’s a bartender at Squirrel’s Nest.”

“The name isn’t familiar.”

Rue and I stood and headed to the door.

I looked back before walking out. “We’ll be in touch. You can count on it.”

Chapter 26

We climbed into the cruiser and headed to the station. No calls had come in yet from Royce regarding Forensics and the possible DNA match. No missed texts either.

“Humph.”

Rue glanced my way. “What?”

“Just wondering why we haven’t heard anything yet. I’m getting impatient, and you know we’ll have to contact Leslie’s mom as soon as we get word.” A thought popped into my head that Rue needed to hear. “Once we have confirmation that Jane Doe is actually Leslie, we need to go back to Squirrel’s Nest and start interviewing the employees. Somebody must know if Leslie had any enemies and who they were.”

“Meaning Danny Hines? Especially since he said he didn’t know her?”

“Exactly.”

“But that means you’re going to share the fact that she’s dead.”

“I know, but we’ll contact the mom first. The restaurant is going to find out anyway, especially since she didn’t show for work last night and because they can’t reach her. Her phone wasn’t at the crime scene, so that means the killer either has it or destroyed it. We can get a warrant and ping its last known location.”

“If Royce approves it.”

I groaned. “If we aren’t proactive and don’t get ahead of the case, we’ll never find out who killed her and why.”

Rue pulled into our lot and parked. “Mitch, she died Sunday night, and we still don’t have a damn thing.”

“Sure we do. Thanks to Tapper’s idea of tracking down the nail artist, we know that Jane is likely Leslie. Without his suggestion, she might have remained a Jane Doe much longer.”

We entered the building, took the stairs to the second floor, and walked to Royce’s office. We heard him cursing from behind the closed door. Something had set him off. I was hesitant to knock, but we needed to talk to him.

I called out from the hallway. “Boss, we’re back. Got a minute?”

“Get in here!” he shouted.

I peeked around the door as I opened it. “Is it safe?”

Royce squeezed his temples. “Sorry. Have a seat, guys. We have information. Actually, more than I want.”

After sitting down, I gave Rue a side-eyed glance. “Meaning?”

“Forensics called and said Jane’s DNA matches Leslie’s.”

“Right. We figured as much.”

“Then Tapper called. He said Jane’s, I mean Leslie’s, tox report came back.”

“And?”

“And she had quite a bit of Rohypnol in her system.”

“What the he—?”

Rue cut me off. “Wait! Could that be the reason Katie can’t remember anything? Could somebody have done the same thing to her?”

“There’s a good chance, and Forensics said that it could still show up in a urine test a week later. Take Katie over to the crime lab so they can get a urine sample from her. It has to be tested immediately.”

We pushed back our chairs and stood, but before we left, I had to tell Royce my thoughts. “Boss, we’ve interviewed Danny Hines. He denies being at Woody’s when Katie was there. He said once he left the tour kiosk, he went home and stayed there until the next day.”

“Does he have outdoor cameras?”

“That was the next thing I was going to say. He does. We could get a warrant for the camera footage and another one for Leslie’s phone. It’s likely that the killer took it, so there could be the chance of tracking its last ping. At least it’s something.”

Royce rubbed his chin as he seemed to ponder my suggestions. “Yeah, I’ll take care of that. I have to think about Danny’s cameras, though. I doubt that a judge would give us a warrant to see when he returned home Sunday night, since we have nothing that says he committed a crime. All we have is the eyewitness account of him being at Woody’s and sitting next to Katie. Speaking of that, how did he pay for his drinks?”

Rue grunted. “With cash, of course. That’s what sketchy people do. No paper trail to incriminate him of anything.”

Royce tipped his head toward the door. “Okay, one problem at a time. I’ll call a judge about the warrant for Leslie’s phone. That’ll have to be enough for now unless there’s a way to tie Danny to a crime. Go ahead and let Katie know you’re on your way.”

Rue and I headed to an available cruiser, and as I took a seat on the passenger side, I called Katie to give her a heads-up. I explained the possible cause of her memory loss and told her the only way to prove it was with a urine toxicology test. I told her to be ready in ten minutes and we would take her to the crime lab to have that done.

The tox test would take only a minute, but getting the results could take up to forty-eight hours. During that time, we would focus on Leslie and do what we could to learn the names of people who might have had a grudge against her, including Danny Hines.

We picked up Katie and arrived at the crime lab twenty minutes later. Billy Tremont had been alerted and said he would expedite the process.

Inside the building, we thanked them for their quick cooperation. Billy handed a collection container to Katie and pointed her to the restroom. He told her to leave the sample on the shelf, then she was free to go.

We were in and out in less than fifteen minutes. As Rue drove, I asked Katie if there was any possibility that somebody might have slipped her a roofie at Squirrel’s Nest. She was sure that nobody sat down next to her there.

“Somebody might have put it in your beer,” Rue said.

“But that would mean Leslie did it. There wouldn’t have been a reason for her to do that,” Katie said. “She seemed so nice.”

“Was it a bottle, and did she open it and pour it in front of you?”

“Yes, a bottle of beer, but I think it was open when she poured it into a glass for me.”

“Humph. So you didn’t see who opened it?” I asked.

“Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention. I mean, I’m not a cop who watches every move someone makes.”

I looked over my left shoulder and smiled at her. “I know, but we need to ask every question we can think of. That’s what helps us solve cases.”

Chapter 27

After we dropped off Katie, I called Marilyn Connor, Leslie’s mom. Even though they were estranged, giving news like that wasn’t the kind of call any of us enjoyed. Marilyn said she would come to Savannah over the weekend, identify her daughter, empty her apartment, and make funeral arrangements. I offered my condolences, and I wished I’d had the opportunity to meet Leslie when she was alive. Katie had made her sound like a friendly and outgoing person.

I called Royce as we drove to Squirrel’s Nest. It was eleven o’clock, and they were open and preparing for the lunch crowd.

We took seats at the bar, ordered two sodas, and asked for Tom Olsen, the manager. We’d spoken with him a few days back and watched the video that showed Katie at the bar. Now we had to give him the news regarding Leslie. He needed to know that she wouldn’t be returning to work. It was our job to talk to everyone we could who knew Leslie well and worked with her regularly. As officers of the law, we also had the job of letting her employer know she was deceased since Leslie didn’t have any family in town.

Minutes later, Tom came out, shook our hands, and took a seat next to us. He appeared confused that we had returned.

“Is something wrong, Detectives? More about that woman you wanted to see on the footage?”

“No, Tom, and we hate to be the bearers of bad news, but since she has no family in Savannah, it’s the police department’s responsibility to tell you as her employer that Leslie is deceased.”

“What? How is that possible? She’s in her early twenties. Did she get into a car accident?”

“No, and we can’t expound on anything other than that. Her mother will be coming to Savannah over the weekend and will probably stop in to see if Leslie has a paycheck to pick up.”

“Yes, of course.”

“What we need is to speak to employees who worked regularly with Leslie. We know that she worked primarily in the evening, but is anyone here now who worked with her too? Maybe someone who considered her a friend?”

“Lisa, one of our daytime cooks, was close to Leslie. I guess they hung out now and then on Friday and Saturday nights.”

“Good. We’ll need to speak to her, then,” Rue said.

Tom stood. “I’ll go get her.” He took our empty glasses and promised to bring us refills.

Minutes later, a cute redhead appeared from the back, carrying the promised sodas and looking visibly shaken. Obviously, Tom had told her why we were there.

“I’m Lisa. Tom said you wanted to talk to me about Leslie?”

“Yes, and thank you. I’m Detective Cannon, and this is Detective Rue.” I pointed at an empty chair. “Please have a seat, Lisa.”

I watched as her demeanor went from what looked like disbelief to tearful agony over what we were about to say. We had no way to sugarcoat it. We needed information about who, if anyone, had a grudge against Leslie—and one bad enough to commit murder.

“Lisa, did Tom tell you why we’re here?”

She nodded then wiped her eyes with napkins from the dispenser on the table. “Who would kill Leslie? She’s never harmed anyone.”

“And that’s why we stopped by, hopefully to get information. Maybe someone had a beef with her? A bar patron or even a person she’s known for a long time? How about a regular, a neighbor, a gym member, someone she thought was a friend outside the workplace? She had to mention somebody who bothered her. Is there anyone in Savannah who is up to no good that she has threatened to squeal out?”

Lisa shook her head. “She’s never talked about anyone who scared her in that way. I mean, there are sketchy people in Savannah who we all know and avoid.”

Rue raised his eyebrows. “Like?”

“Like the gangs and drug dealers.”

My shoulders slumped. I was sure she would be more specific. “How about a particular person who comes to mind?”

Lisa wrinkled her brow. “Well, there is Danny Hines. Leslie hated Danny, but everyone hates him and his dad.”

My ears perked up at the mention of Danny’s name, especially since it had come up more than once in the current case. Plus, his father’s incarceration was public knowledge and had put a bad mark on the family name. Danny was pissed, and so was the old man. There was more we needed to dig into. I intended to run that idea by Royce to see how much leeway he would give us.

“Have you ever seen Danny go after Leslie or yell at her for any reason?”

“They’ve had arguments, but Leslie wasn’t afraid of him. I just thought it was the years of hatred she had for him and his arrogant personality.”

“Hmm… Was there a place in particular that you two frequented when you went out?”

“Woody’s a lot of the time and also Carly’s Crib.” Lisa wrung her hands. “That reminds me of a recent incident there involving Danny.”

“Really? What was that about?”

Lisa sighed. “Danny was bothering a woman at the bar, somebody he didn’t even know.”

“Bothering how?”

“Hitting on her and touching her hair even though she told him to leave her alone. He kept insisting on buying her drinks too. Leslie told him to knock it off and to go back to the hole he crawled out of. He told her to shut up or she would be sorry.”

I glanced at Rue. “Then what?”

“Then the bartender told Danny to leave. After some curse words and being flipped off by Leslie, he walked out.”

“And how long ago was that?” Rue asked.

Lisa furrowed her brow. “Two Saturday nights, I think. Not long ago, really.”

“Hmm.” Rue rubbed his chin and gave me a look. “We haven’t talked to anyone at Carly’s Crib yet, but we certainly will. Anyone else who was just an annoyance? Somebody that she accidentally bumped into on the bus who got mad about it? Innocent things like that?”

“Not really. I mean, Leslie rarely complained about anything. She was a happy person, and we always had fun together.”

We thanked Lisa, and I passed my card to her. I said if she thought of anything else to give me a call. With that, I gave her a nod, and we walked out.

As we headed to the car, I gave Rue a side-eye. “So, Danny lied about knowing Leslie. The question is why?”

Devon huffed. “We’re definitely going to find out, partner. I’ll tell you one thing that’s a certainty.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“Little by little, the plot is thickening.”

Chapter 28

After returning to the precinct, we planned to dig deeper into a possible Danny Hines connection. We didn’t have proof of his involvement, but we knew he had dealt widely in drugs of every kind. Whenever we tried to make an arrest, he skated by the charges because he was never caught with drugs on his person. His top-notch attorney found every loophole to get his client off unscathed. Danny’s father hadn’t been quite as lucky since his request to ruin a competitor’s business was recorded by law enforcement. For now and likely into the future, the son would carry on the illegal activities of the family enterprise with the help of his slippery lawyer.

Jimmy’s police file sat in front of me, listing every offense that he’d ever been arrested for, and I scoured the documents for hours. Nothing showed Jimmy ever having drug charges filed against him. I set his file aside then reviewed everything we had on Danny. We had eyewitness accounts, gossip on the streets, and people who had been arrested for drugs who said that everything they had purchased originated with Danny Hines. They weren’t the most reliable witnesses, and we never found any drugs, no matter how hard we’d searched.

There had to be a stash house in Savannah that we weren’t aware of. We’d gotten a warrant to search Danny’s home months ago, but we never found the drugs he was accused of selling or any drug paraphernalia at all.

We needed to speak with the CIs again. They had to know what the son was up to, just as they did with the father. The CI we’d enlisted to work with us on Danny Hines was Marty D. His CI status was well-hidden, and so far, none of the two-bit criminals and drug dealers knew that he was working with the police department. Somebody had to know if Rohypnol was moving through Savannah, why it would be, and who was supplying it.

I called Marty’s burner phone, which was meant to be used only between him and law enforcement. He answered right away. Our police department showed up in his contacts as Roy.

“Marty here.”

“Marty, it’s Detective Cannon. We need to meet today.”

“Okay, okay. When and where? I need to stay incognito, especially since it’s daylight.”

“Right, and we will honor that. Meet us across the street from Hubert Middle School. Catch a rideshare, and I’ll reimburse you for the cost. Be there at three o’clock.”

“Got it. I’ll see you then.”

I clicked off the call then began an internet search of all date-rape drug cases in Savannah and Chatham County over the last five years. Surprisingly, a handful of them popped up. That meant the files were archived in our police records room downstairs.

“Hey, Rue?”

Devon looked across the desks at me. “Yep?”

“Can you run downstairs and bring up every reported date-rape file from Archives?”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll be right back.”

We would look over the reports then meet with Marty D. at three o’clock. After that, I wanted to pay Carly’s Crib a visit. We needed to speak with the employees who might have been there when Danny and Leslie got into their spat two weeks prior. We also wanted to know of anyone else who might have confronted Leslie in a threatening manner during times she’d patronized the bar, with or without Lisa.

While I waited for Devon to return, I looked up the hours for Carly’s Crib. Monday through Saturday, they were open from eleven a.m. until three a.m. and Sundays from eleven a.m. until midnight. Their hours coincided with those of most other bars and restaurants in Savannah.

Minutes later, Rue was back with nine folders. We would have a gold mine of information to sort through and victims to call. Because we were in the homicide and serial crimes division of the police force, we never dealt with assault cases on women, whether they’d been attacked with or without the aid of Rohypnol. Somebody had drugged Leslie before or during that alley encounter, which had rendered her so defenseless that she couldn’t protect herself during the attack.

The results of Katie’s toxicology report would be available tomorrow and we needed to stay on top of things until then. If the report showed Rohypnol in Katie’s body, then we knew the person who’d killed Leslie might have intended to harm or even kill Katie as well. If she did have that drug in her system, she was lucky to be alive.

Chapter 29

We had begun the calls to the victims but needed to stop. Our meeting with Marty was set to happen in thirty minutes. Rue and I would take our cruiser to the location and wait for him to arrive. Once the rideshare left, I would call Marty over to our car and have him get inside for the interview. Conducting a question-and-answer session with a known felon in the proximity of a middle school was inappropriate, so we planned to drive down the road then interview him.

After parking within view of the school, we watched and waited for Marty to show. Ten minutes passed before a car slowed to a stop, the back door opened, and Marty stepped out onto the curb. The car rolled away, then we pulled up.

I lowered the passenger-side window and told Marty to climb into the back. He did, then Rue drove to a nondescript side street, where he pulled along the curb and parked.

Marty let out a nervous-sounding breath then asked what we wanted to know.

I turned sideways in my seat, looked back at Marty, and began my round of questions. Rue had his notepad ready and would jot down Marty’s answers.

“Marty, what do you know about Rohypnol activity going on in Savannah’s city limits or throughout the county?”

“Rohypnol?” Marty scratched his hairline. “I haven’t heard anything lately.”

“But you have in the past?”

“Yeah, like a few months ago.”

“Good, and when you did, who was talking about it, and what was the conversation?”

“Well, I can’t really remember who brought it up since it was a street corner gathering of likeminded people.”

Rue snickered. “You mean criminals?”

Marty chuckled, but since we weren’t laughing, he quickly composed himself. “Um, yeah, I guess.”

“So who was part of that gathering?” I made air quotes around the word gathering.

“Well, I was there with Kenny Mars, Jose Cortez, and Craig Penrose. Then Danny Hines strolled up.”

My head snapped toward him. “Danny Hines?”

Marty nodded.

I gave him a stare and waited for more, but he didn’t offer additional information. I had to pull it out of him. “Why was Rohypnol discussed, Marty? There had to be a reason that drug in particular was brought up.”

“Yeah, it was something about it being an easy way to rob people. They wouldn’t remember what happened or who robbed them.”

I wondered if it was really that simple. I didn’t know any of the men other than Marty and Danny, but I intended to find out who they were and talk to them.

“It isn’t that easy to slip someone a roofie, Marty. You have to be right next to the mark at a bar and have access to their drink. Then it has to dissolve, and you have to hope nobody saw what you did.”

“Not really.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Meaning?”

“Apparently, you boys in law enforcement aren’t up on the latest methods.”

My face flushed. He was pissing me off. “Then enlighten us.”

Marty grinned. “You’re lucky I’m a wealth of knowledge.”

I cursed him under my breath. “And you’re lucky you’re walking the streets and getting paid by us instead of rotting in a prison cell. Get on with it.”

“Yeah, okay. The easiest way to roofie someone is by liquefying the pill and injecting it in them or in their drink or food.”

“And that’s the latest way Rohypnol is being used?”

“Yeah, at least last I heard, but there are several methods to administer the Rohypnol. One is by walking up to a lone woman, blindsiding her with the needle, then in fifteen minutes, she’s nothing but putty in your hands. Some men take advantage of the women, and others just rob them. Either way, the woman has no memory of the event.”

“And that was being planned back then?”

“I guess, but I wasn’t involved, remember? I didn’t know if they were going ahead with it or just discussing it for another time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I jerked my chin at Marty. “Continue.”

“Okay, the second way they talked of using Rohypnol was to make a small needle hole in a bottle of juice, soda, or water. Of course, there would be more Rohypnol used since it’s diluted in the drink. The vendors would sell the drinks in food and beverage carts in the parks then send their crew out to follow the person and rob them later when the drug took effect. Doesn’t matter if it’s a woman or a man, and you can even steal their car if you want to. The entire process doesn’t take long. It’s a no-brainer, plus you aren’t sitting in a bar all night, wasting money and hoping to slip a roofie in someone’s drink without being seen.”

“And you’ve never participated in those crimes?” Rue asked.

“No way, Jose. I take in the chatter on the streets and report it to the cops. That’s why Savannah’s finest pays me. I don’t participate in criminal activity anymore.”

I grunted. “I hope not, because if you do, you’ll get a far longer sentence than you’re looking at now. What you need to do is get chummy with Danny Hines. We need to know what he’s up to and if he has minions injecting people and robbing them. We have a dead woman on our hands, and Rohypnol showed up on her tox report. We also have an injured woman who may have Rohypnol in her system too.”

“Got it. Where and when do you want the next report?”

“Here. Same time tomorrow. One more thing. Does Danny Hines have a stash house?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll try to find that out too.”

Rue pocketed his notepad then turned over the cruiser’s engine. He shifted into gear, and we drove away. Once we reached Forsyth Park, Rue slowed to a stop.

“Get out here, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marty quickly exited our cruiser and disappeared into the park. We continued on and discussed the case as Rue drove the last few blocks to the precinct.

“We need to ask Katie again about the water she told Patty she had in her purse. Didn’t she say the man at the tour booth gave it to her?”

Devon nodded. “Yep, that’s exactly what Katie said.”

I called Katie as we crossed the parking lot to our building. She confirmed that the bottle of water she had been drinking was given to her by the man at the tour kiosk—Danny Hines.

“Detective Cannon?”

“Yep?”

“There’s something I can’t seem to shake, and it’s been on my mind since Monday. I believe it’s what woke me up that day.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“I had a nightmare, but I didn’t know if it pertained to facts related to me or if it was just that—a nightmare. I remember hearing someone scream for help. The area was dark, so I wasn’t sure if it was me crying out or someone else. That person was being attacked. When I shot up in bed and realized it was only a dream, I was relieved until I saw the condition my body was in. At that point, I freaked out. Other than the dream and going to Squirrel’s Nest, I couldn’t remember a thing. Then when I saw my apartment, I wondered if the dream was a dream at all or actually a memory of the night before.”

“That’s quite a revelation, Katie. Do you think there’s a chance that you heard the woman and ran in that direction to see what was wrong?”

“Maybe, and then my nightmare brought it back to light, but the hypnosis didn’t?”

“It’s possible, and we’ll discuss all of that later. We’ll likely ask Patty about the possibility of that too. We’ll have you come back to the precinct tomorrow so we can question you on audio and video. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I hung up and pocketed my phone, then we entered the building. Upstairs, as we updated Royce about Marty’s account, we realized that many people who’d reported stolen cars, stolen purses, or even ransacked homes could all have been victims of Rohypnol drugging. None of us at the police station would have connected snatch-and-grab thefts, home invasions, or stolen cars to Rohypnol since the victim had no memory of the actual event, only the fact that it had happened. It was the perfect crime and likely more widespread than we would have ever known. Finally, Marty was good for something. A crime wave was spreading through Savannah and had likely originated with one person—Danny Hines. The fact that he had been seen at Woody’s with Katie and the fact that the bartender had overheard Danny telling Katie that they’d met again told us one thing. There was no doubt he was the man at the kiosk and the reason for her lost memory. Now we needed to know whether he’d killed Leslie, why he would have, and if he did anything else to Katie besides steal the money in her purse. My gut said he was responsible for every crime that had taken place on Sunday night.

As we discussed our theory with Royce, he tried to rub the wrinkles from his forehead. It was new information for all of us, but it made the most sense so far. We would likely connect many of Savannah’s recent crimes to Danny and his crew of thieves. Their method was genius, and now that we suspected more crimes had originated with him, we would begin trailing Danny and his boys until we compiled the evidence we needed to arrest all of them.

As soon as the tox report came in tomorrow, we would start connecting the dots. Soon enough, we would know for sure who Katie’s attacker and Leslie’s killer was.

Meanwhile, with only a half hour before the end of the business day, Royce said he would do his best to contact a judge in hopes of getting a warrant for every tour kiosk and beverage cart owned and operated by the Hines family. We had a chance of confiscating the water and beverage bottles, testing them for Rohypnol, and if evidence was found, arresting Danny Hines and everyone else involved in their crimes. We had to keep our intentions under wraps, though, because if word got out that we’d planned a blindside search of the carts and kiosks, they would surely get rid of the drugs.

Chapter 30

I was happy to be heading home and took a relaxing breath as I drove. Relief washed over me since I was sure that in the next few days, we would have the answers we needed and arrests would be made.

If we could locate the stash house where Danny had hidden all of his incriminating products, we would be home free. He was too smart to keep drugs, supplies, paperwork, and hard copy correspondence at his or his father’s homes. The only other possibility was a second location somewhere, which might not even be in the Hines name. We had our work cut out for us, but if we were successful, the son would join his father in jail where he belonged.

Tomorrow would be a busy day, hopefully one that started with confirmation of Katie’s tox report showing Rohypnol had been in her system. That alone would start the ball rolling. Getting more information from Marty would help, and we would push him to find out the names of Danny’s helpers. They were either the employees he already had or sketchy and likely addicted friends who would do anything he said to make enough money to fund their habit.

I needed to wind down before walking into the house. At times, I brought work home with me, which often included more information than my family wanted to hear. That night, my brain needed a time-out, and my nieces, sister, and mom needed my full attention when I got home. It was the least I could do.

Minutes later, I pulled into my driveway and parked under the portico. When I walked through the door, Gus in all his slobbering glory waddled toward me. I leaned over and gave him a thorough petting. At the far end of the kitchen table, Della, Chloe, and Mom worked on a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle depicting a national park.

“Wow, that’s a detailed puzzle. Who picked it out?” I leaned over and kissed Mom’s cheek.

Marie walked through the kitchen with a laundry basket in hand. “Della did. That’s why Mom is pitching in.” She chuckled. “I think the age range starts at eleven years old.”

“Uh-huh. Older than both you monkeys.”

The girls laughed.

“Have faith in them, Mitch,” Mom said. “They’re doing most of it.”

Reaching into the refrigerator, I pulled out a cold beer, then I cracked the top off. I took a deep refreshing gulp. “What’s for supper?”

Mom tipped her head toward the oven. “Take a look.”

I pressed the oven light, opened the door, and peered in. “Yum, pot roast.”

“And it’ll be done in fifteen minutes. I buttered the French bread, and that’s going in next,” Chloe said.

“Good job, kiddo. Guess I better get changed, then. Della, let Gus out for a bit, please.”

“Okay.”

With a grin, I headed for the stairs. Minutes later, in shorts and a T-shirt, I helped the girls set the table. Just as Chloe had said, supper was ready, and with Marie’s assistance, she carefully pulled the bread out of the oven and placed it on top of the stove. Della held the basket while Chloe filled it with hot crusty bread.

“Now put a towel over the top so it stays warm then set it on the table,” Marie said.

With that done, the pot roast and sides were taken to the table. We sat down and dug in. After supper, the cleanup duties were on the girls, and I loaded the dishwasher.

I planned to spend the next hour enjoying my recliner with one more beer and some TV, then I would be ready for bed.

Tomorrow, we might get the answers we needed, at least a few of them. If nothing else, we would know the direction of our investigation, and all indications led to the same person—Danny Hines.

I mindlessly watched TV until the news came on. Any breaking news would air first. If there wasn’t any, I would watch what was going on locally then call it a night.

There wasn’t any earth-shattering news, which was a good thing. I polished off my beer, said good night, then headed upstairs and got ready for bed.

Chapter 31

“There’s a gold mine of options, sir. The street and sidewalks are full, and the pickings are easy.”

“Good, and one score tonight is plenty, but make it a twofer. Find a couple of women who are obviously tourists and stupid enough to think they’re completely safe. Make sure they’re middle-aged and wearing heels. They won’t have the stamina to fight back as easily or run as fast.”

“Piece of cake. We’ll watch for women who are heading back to their hotel. The park is across the street, so we can guide them in that direction after the bump. The robbery will go down under the cover of darkness, and the trees will help us disappear without being seen.”

“Sounds good. Make it worth your time and don’t screw up.”

Dillon laughed. “Don’t worry. The more we do this, the easier it gets.”

Dillon hung up and pocketed his phone.

Josh Ordman and Dillon Crane had been perfecting their method for several weeks. There were others in the mix, but those two were the most reliable since they weren’t sketchy drug abusers. Between purse thefts, car thefts, and home invasions, they were making quite the haul and earning their boss and themselves a decent amount of money.

The hour was already late, and people left the bars in droves while they were still sober enough to drive or, if on foot, remember where their hotel rooms were. The laughter and revelry said plenty as couples, individuals, and groups of friends went their separate ways. Most people, whether tourists or locals, were half in the bag and enjoying every minute of it.

Dillon elbowed John then tipped his chin toward two women fifty feet ahead of them on the sidewalk. The women were going in the right direction—toward the row of hotels. That meant they would be near the park, the perfect place to overtake them.

The men watched the women’s somewhat-tippy movements, exactly what they wanted. The women’s shoes were strappy three-inch heels, something the boss had requested. Those heels would definitely slow the women down if they tried to run.

With a twinkle in his eye, Dillon turned to Josh. “Whatcha think?”

“They’re exactly the type of women we’re looking for. I didn’t see their faces, but as long as we empty the syringes into them, their age won’t matter. They’ll probably fall off their heels and break their ankles anyway.”

As they laughed, the men increased their pace until they were only a few feet behind the ladies. They scanned the area before they struck to make sure nobody was paying attention to them—and nobody was.

Each man pulled a syringe from his pocket, removed the protective cap, then pocketed it for safekeeping. They moved in for the accidental bump, then they would inject the women in the back area of their hips with enough Rohypnol to render them incoherent and wobbly within twenty minutes.

They spoke loudly and laughed as if drunk when they accidentally on purpose crashed into the women, nearly knocking them over. They quickly apologized, helped the ladies regroup, and brushed themselves off. They asked if the ladies were okay while playing up their ruse of being harmless drunk but fun-loving guys concerned about the women’s welfare.

The blonde shook off her surprise with a chuckle. “We’re okay, just a little rattled. At least we didn’t do a face-plant into the sidewalk. I guess we’re all somewhat tipsy, right?”

“Absolutely, and that’s why we decided to call it a night.” Dillon pointed his chin in the direction of the hotels. “At least let us make sure you get to where you’re going. I’d do the same for my own mom, one hundred percent.”

“Well, aren’t you guys sweet? We’re heading to the Hampton Inn, so if you—”

Josh laughed. “That’s perfect since we’re going to the Holiday Inn Express next door.”

They walked a few steps away from the women yet behaved like Boy Scouts while the drug did its magic. Luckily, the bright lights of the bars and restaurants were disappearing behind them, and their faces were hidden by the darkness. They engaged the women in small talk. They listened and watched as the women’s speech began to slur and their footing became unstable. Dillon steadied the blonde as he redirected her toward the park. Josh did the same with the second woman.

To any passerby, they looked like a group of four who’d had too much to drink, no different than anyone else who had spent hours enjoying the Hostess City of the South and her delicious libations.

Dillon and Josh guided the women into the dim lighting of Emmett Park. The park wasn’t particularly large, but it offered enough tree cover to hide their bad intentions. The women stumbled and were barely able to stay on their feet as they were pushed deeper into the darkness. They tripped numerous times and fell over. Each time, they were yanked upright and pushed on. The guys needed to get the women to the benches. After propping them up so they wouldn’t look so conspicuous, the men planned to grab the purses and phones, tuck them inside their lightweight jackets, and disappear into the night.

“Come on, Josh! Drag that bitch to the bench,” Dillon whispered frantically. “I hear voices that sound too close for comfort.”

Dillon already had the blonde sitting upright. Her head dropped to her chest, and a six-inch string of saliva wet her blouse. Dillon helped Josh drag the other woman to the bench. After both limp, incoherent women were propped against each other and stripped of their phones and purses, the men parted ways, planning to reunite ten minutes later and three blocks away. They disappeared in opposite directions with another successful robbery under their belts.

Chapter 32

It didn’t take long for me to drift off, but a sound stirred me out of my sleep. I thought it was my alarm indicating it was already seven a.m., but it was still dark outside. I couldn’t make sense of it until I realized it was my phone ringing, yet it took a minute for me to process that. I patted the nightstand until I felt my phone. I barely got my eyes to focus, but squinting helped. Royce was calling, and it was two a.m.

I twisted the lamp switch and sat up. A quick gulp of water helped me answer without sounding like a frog. “Hey, Boss, what’s going on?”

“Too damn much. I need you at the precinct now. I’ve already called Rue, and he’ll be here in twenty minutes. We need our entire unit involved.”

“So what happened?”

I tossed back the blankets, set my phone to Speaker while I dressed, and listened to Royce’s yelling. The short version was that several hours earlier, two unconscious females had been discovered by Patrol in Emmett Park. They were unresponsive, and neither of them had a purse, phone, or ID. They were taken to the hospital and tested for Rohypnol poisoning at the request of the officers. The results were positive.

“Damn it. We need to get a handle on this and fast. I’m on my way.”

I hung up, quietly walked down the hallway so I wouldn’t wake anyone, and took the stairs to the kitchen. I made a travel mug of instant coffee, grabbed a protein bar, and scratched out a note to Marie, saying I had been called to work and would see them later. With that, I made sure Gus had water in his dish, then I left.

Seven minutes later, I parked in my usual spot and entered the Habersham precinct. Upstairs, I found everyone from our night and day shift crews in the bullpen. Royce and Sergeant Bleu were there too. I took my seat and saw that Rue had already arrived. I gave him a nod.

Bleu had the report from Patrol along with the hospital results and read each one verbatim as I sat down. I pulled my protein bar from my pocket, ripped it open, and took a bite while I listened closely.

Once Bleu finished reading, he asked for input.

Ricky Bloom spoke up. “I think every park in town should be patrolled at night. We could even have officers out there on foot making sure nothing weird is going on.”

After a gulp of coffee, I took my turn. “Easy enough for the perps to pull their stunts somewhere else, then. Plus, we have no proof that the attacks happened in the park. Maybe the crime was committed somewhere else and the women were chased into the park, where there’s more cover. That’s where they finally passed out, and the perp or perps helped themselves to their purses. They weren’t…?”

“No,” Royce said. “Both women were physically unharmed and fully dressed when Patrol found them.”

“Humph. That doesn’t sound like the same MO as in Leslie’s case,” Devon said.

I turned to my partner. “But remember what Marty said. Danny Hines could be working with a number of people. The main reason men or women are getting roofied is so they can be robbed. Whoever killed Leslie did it because they knew her and had a volatile relationship with her, or the perp was a stranger and she had enough left inside to fight back, then the attack got out of control.”

“A good possibility,” Bleu said. “We need to haul in every person Marty named, interrogate them, blame each one for Leslie’s murder, and see who cracks. Somebody knows what happened in that alley.”

“That reminds me,” I said. “Just tonight, Katie told me about a nightmare she had. It scared her awake on Monday, and that’s when she realized the condition she was in but had no memory of why she looked that way.”

“And the dream?” Royce asked.

“She said she heard a woman calling out for help. She was in a dark place and being attacked. Katie didn’t know if the nightmare was actually about herself or somebody else.”

“And that dark place could have been the alley,” Ricky said.

I nodded. “Absolutely. Maybe she was actually a witness to Leslie’s murder, saw who did it, but lost all memory of who that person was because she was under the influence of Rohypnol. There’s a good chance that because she came to Leslie’s aid, she ended up badly scraped and bruised. Also, that could be how her earring ended up there. The attacker probably went after her too. Either she was lucky enough to get away, or someone interrupted the attack on her and the perp fled.”

“Then how did her apartment get tossed?” Prentice asked.

Rue shook his head. “That part is still a mystery.”

Royce reminded us that we didn’t have Katie’s tox report yet, but all signs led to her having been roofied too.

Chapter 33

Royce had struck out on getting a warrant yesterday, and since it was currently too early to contact a judge, our boss instructed us to go to the hospital and learn what we could about the two women—their names, if anyone had learned them, and whether they were locals or tourists.

The night shift team would begin researching the names our CI had given us the day before. We needed to know if they had criminal records—and what the crime was if they did have records—then we could haul each of them to the police station for questioning.

Rue and I left the police station and headed south to Memorial Health University Medical Center, where the women were transported. The drive would take fifteen minutes. It was the middle of the night, but if either woman was awake and relatively alert, getting an interview would be crucial. I thought about Katie and how even under hypnosis, she couldn’t recall exactly what had happened Sunday night, yet in her dream state, she did remember—to a degree. I planned to discuss that with Patty and ask if there was a way to pull those dreams from deep within Katie’s mind. Maybe the difference was that hypnosis brought out what people were aware of, yet dreams were out of one’s control and involuntary.

We arrived at the hospital at three forty-five and went straight to the reception counter. Rue and I flashed our badges, explained why we were there, and said we needed to speak with the women, if they were awake, or to the doctor who’d admitted them, tested them for drugs, and performed the exam.

The lady behind the counter asked us to wait while she called the emergency room doctor who’d admitted both women.

While we waited, I pulled up a map of downtown Savannah and located Emmett Park in relationship to everything around it.

I pointed my chin at Rue. “Check this out.”

“What?”

“There’s literally three hotels across the street from Emmett Park as well as dozens of bars and restaurants. Maybe the ladies are staying at one of those hotels and were out for the night, enjoying the city.”

“Yeah, but without any ID, how would we know who they are and where they were staying?”

I grinned. “If either of them are awake, they can just tell us. If not, maybe a picture of them might help the hotel staff recognize them.”

Rue frowned. “If their eyes are closed, nobody will recognize them, plus we don’t know if they’re traveling together or even know each other. It could be purely coincidental that they were both targeted, roofied, and ended up unconscious in the same area of the park.”

“Maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a look at them, snap a picture even if they are asleep, and show the pictures to the person behind the reservations counter at those three hotels. Reservation clerks check in customers around the clock. Who knows? Somebody might recognize those ladies.”

“Okay, it’s worth a shot. Now to get somebody out here to talk to us.”

We waited ten minutes before a doctor stepped out from between the double doors and looked at us. Since we were the only ones in the waiting area, it wasn’t much of a stretch for him to walk our way.

“Detectives?”

We stood.

“That’s us,” I said with my hand outstretched. “I’m Detective Mitch Cannon, and my partner here is Detective Devon Rue.”

“I’m Dr. Simon Nelson.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said as we exchanged handshakes. “We understand that the two women who were admitted a few hours back were tested for drugs and Rohypnol showed positive in their systems.”

“That’s correct. Luckily, nothing else was wrong with the women other than sleeping it off and not having a memory of how that drug ended up in their bodies.”

“So neither of them have regained consciousness yet?” I asked.

The doctor smiled. “It’s going to take a little time.”

“We’d like to get ahead of this since the ladies won’t wake up for a while, and even then, who knows what they’ll remember.”

Dr. Nelson raised his eyebrows. “Okay?”

“Would it be all right if we took some pictures of both ladies so we can start making the rounds at the hotels across the street from where they were found to see if anyone recognizes them? Without ID’s or names to go by, the hospital can’t even process the charges to insurance companies.”

Dr. Nelson rubbed his chin. “You do have a point. I guess it’s okay, but from neck up only, of course.”

“Absolutely. And you can watch. It’ll just take a minute, then we’ll be out of your hair. So when do you think they’ll be alert and back to normal?”

“Later, probably around breakfast time.”

“Okay, we’ll be back then.”

I tipped my head, and the doctor led the way.

“We have the women in a double room so it’s easier to monitor their progress back to consciousness. We have no idea if they know each other and were together or not, but no matter what, they ended up in the same predicament.”

“Appreciate your help, Dr. Nelson.”

He opened the door to a large double room. The can lights above the beds were set to a dim glow. I asked if we could turn the lights on fully for a moment just to take the pictures and then we would leave. The doctor agreed. Luckily, the women were sleeping on their backs, so their faces were clearly visible. I snapped two pictures of each, walked to the door, and lowered the lights. We thanked the doctor and said we would return after eight a.m.

Outside, Devon and I crossed the parking lot to our cruiser, left the hospital, and headed north to the first of the three hotels on East Bay Street—the Holiday Inn Express.

Rue parked, and we stepped up to the covered entryway and pressed the buzzer to be allowed in. Since it was prior to the lobby’s normal opening hour, that hotel and most others typically buzzed people in during off hours instead of leaving the front doors open to anyone all night long.

Seconds later, a young man appeared from a back room. He went behind the counter and released the door. We entered the lobby, headed to the counter, and showed our badges.

“What can I do for you officers?”

I glanced at the young man’s name tag. He went by Aaron K.

“Aaron, we’re both detectives and trying to find out who two women are that patrol officers found in Emmett Park last night. They were unconscious and don’t have any ID’s on them. I have pictures of both, and of course their eyes are closed, but possibly they’ll look familiar to you. They might have checked in together.”

“Sure. If I may?”

I passed my phone to him. He gave each picture a long hard look then handed the phone back.

“I don’t recognize either of them, but I’ll go back a week in our log to see if two women checked in together, possibly asking for a double room. We also collect their driver’s license information.”

“Great. Thanks,” Rue said.

We waited briefly, then I noticed the man’s eyes widen. “Find something?”

“Yes, two women checked in on Tuesday and asked for a double. I’ll pull up their ID’s so we can take a look.”

I was hopeful that we might have found the women, but the look on Aaron’s face dashed that possibility.

“Darn. It isn’t them. One woman is sixty-three and the other forty. Probably mother and daughter.”

“Okay, thanks for trying.” I passed my card to Aaron and asked him to call if anything new came to light.

Rue and I walked the half block to the next hotel—the Hampton Inn. Inside, we explained our intentions to Kimberly, the woman behind the registration counter. I showed her the images on my phone. She enlarged one picture with her fingers then smiled.

“Yes, they’re staying here. I recall asking this lady about the small rose tattoo on her neck. She said it was in memory of her late mother. See here? It’s the same tattoo.”

Kimberly turned the phone back to me and pointed. I hadn’t noticed the tattoo when I took the picture, probably because I was focusing on the woman’s face.

“Damn, I hadn’t even noticed that. So can you tell us who they are and when they checked in?”

“Sure. Give me just a second, hon.”

I looked at Rue and grinned. That was one of the endearing qualities of southerners. Everyone was hon, sweetie, sweetheart, honey, dear, and so on.

“Here we go. Come over here to my side of the counter. It looks like the ladies checked in yesterday.”

Rue and I rounded the counter and stared at the computer screen. What we saw were copies of the women’s driver’s licenses and the credit card on file for the room charges.

Both ladies were from Newport, Rhode Island. The one with the tattoo was Laura Beesley, and the other was Diane Day. I took a picture of the computer screen with their information on it and thanked Kimberly for her help, then we left.

We drove to our precinct and reported in. It would still be a few hours before the women were alert enough to talk to us and give their version of the night before and when and where they came in contact with their attackers. We hoped to find video footage from hotels, bars, or restaurants in the area that might show the perp or perps’ initial interaction with the women and what progressed from there.

Upstairs, with fresh coffees in hand, we knocked on Royce’s door, and he called out to come in.

“We found out who the ladies are, Boss,” Rue said.

“Great. So they’re awake?”

“Not yet. The doctor allowed us to take pictures of them, then we drove to the hotels near where the women were found. I figured they could be tourists and staying at one of the hotels across the street from the park. There are plenty of restaurants and bars in the area along with three hotels. What we learned is that they’re staying at the Hampton Inn, and both women are rooming together. They’re from Newport, Rhode Island.”

“And when will you be able to talk to them?”

I glanced at my watch. “In a few hours. The doctor thinks they’ll be awake enough to give us a statement around eight o’clock.”

Rue spoke up. “We need to get with Ricky and Bob so we can hit the homes of those idiots who may be involved in the Rohypnol crimes. Let’s yank them out of bed, haul them in, and question each of them.”

Royce groaned. “We can’t go through their homes or Danny’s to look for the drugs without a warrant.”

“Danny’s house was clean when we had that search warrant a few months ago. He’s got to have a stash house somewhere, and Marty is supposed to find out where that is. There’s also the chance that the drugs are kept at the home of one of those helpers of his.”

Royce shook his head. “Again, we can’t conduct a search without the warrant. It might take a few days and more proof of them being involved in a crime before a judge will sign off on it.”

“So we’re in a holding pattern while people are being attacked and robbed? That’s such crap! We have to question those guys so we can get the dirt on Danny. Katie confirmed that it was Hines who gave her the bottle of water.”

Our sergeant raised his hands. “Yet we don’t have that bottle to test for Rohypnol. Give me a few hours. We should have Katie’s tox results by then. Get with Ricky, Bob, Lawrence, and Bentley, then coordinate everything you need to hit the houses as soon as we can.”

With a long sigh, I nodded. Rue and I headed to the bullpen to make a plan with our day and night shift detectives.

Chapter 34

By seven thirty, we had put together a viable plan to bring in the three men Danny seemed to be conspiring with—Kenny Mars, Jose Cortez, and Craig Penrose. I was sure there were more, but we had to start with the ones we had information on. Each of them had a police record, which didn’t surprise me.

As we waited for the okay to go, Royce said he was going to call Judge Abraham and do his best to explain the situation.

I impatiently filled my cup with stale coffee that had been sitting in the carafe since the night shift. At that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted Royce’s thumbs-up telling us that the warrants to search each property had been approved.

Rue stared at me as I guzzled the old coffee. I shrugged and paced around my desk. A thought came to mind, so I took a seat and reached for the phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“The hospital. We need to know if those ladies are awake, and if they aren’t, I’ll give the staff my number to call as soon as they come around. There’s no sense in driving back there until we know they’re alert. Once the women are interviewed and they tell us who their credit cards are with, we can see if they’ve been used anywhere. If they were, we might get lucky enough to see images of the assailants using them at ATMs and stores.”

Minutes later, I had ended the call, and Royce entered the bullpen. He explained the conversation he’d had with the judge. He said he told the judge that it was imperative to have the warrants in order to find the cache of Rohypnol. It was the proof we needed and the only way to make the arrests stick. Royce reminded the judge that a murder had taken place and three women had been intentionally drugged.

Royce grinned. “The judge approved the warrants. Lawrence and Bentley, go pick them up. Mitch and Rue—”

“Boss,” I interrupted. “I just called the hospital, and the ladies are awake.”

“Okay. Change of plans. I’ll have Ricky and Bob stick around. They can help Lawrence and Bentley haul in those three men. We’ll have two officers follow the bus to each location, then they can go through the houses as the men are picked up.” Royce jerked his head at me. “You and Rue head to the hospital. I want to know everything those women can remember.”

“Roger that.” I tipped my head toward Rue. “Let’s go, partner.”

Devon and I crossed the lot to a cruiser, and the other four detectives headed for our detention bus. They would make a quick stop at the courthouse, where the warrants would be waiting at the security desk, then continue to the homes and bring in each man for questioning.

We arrived at the hospital just after eight fifteen. The smell of breakfast wafted through the hallways. Hopefully, the women’s empty stomachs would need filling, and after enough coffee, they would wake up completely and talk to us coherently.

Again at the counter, we asked for Dr. Nelson or any other doctor who would allow us to interview Laura Beesley and Diane Day.

After a few taps on the keyboard, the woman behind the counter looked up at us with confusion written across her face.

“I’m sorry, Detectives, but we don’t have any admitted patients with those names.”

That was when I realized we had never informed the hospital about learning who the women were. I was sure the doctors and nurses had already been told their names, but it was doubtful that the information had been entered into the computer records yet.

I explained who I was talking about, and the receptionist said that Dr. Nelson had already gone home and that the daytime doctor monitoring the women was Amanda Collins. I gave the receptionist a nod, then she lifted the phone and made a call. I assumed she was calling the nurses’ station located in a hallway off the emergency wing. The room the women were admitted to last night was in that area.

It took only a few minutes for a woman wearing a white lab coat to come out and greet us. She introduced herself as Dr. Collins, and we introduced ourselves as well. We explained that we had been there earlier and spoken to Dr. Nelson about the two drugged women. We said he’d told us they would probably be awake by then and possibly ready to speak with police.

She smiled. “Well, I’m pleased to say that they are awake. Not one hundred percent, of course, but awake nonetheless. They were shocked when they realized they were in the hospital, but when they saw each other, they seemed relieved. I checked their vitals and encouraged them to have breakfast. I told them I’d be back around nine thirty, give them another thorough exam, and if they seemed awake enough, they could be released.”

“Okay, that sounds great. The reason they are here is obviously because of Rohypnol poisoning, so it’s our responsibility to interview them.”

“Of course. Right this way.”

Dr. Collins led us to the same room we’d been in a few hours earlier, knocked, then walked in. She introduced us to the ladies, excused herself, and left.

Several folding chairs leaned against the wall, and Rue and I scooted them to the foot of the beds. We sat side by side. The discarded trays showed that both women had eaten a small amount of food, yet they looked like they had been on all-night benders.

My mind took me back to what Katie had shared with us about her own experience. She woke up Monday at noon, was awake for a short while, then fell asleep until later that day. I wondered if the amount of Rohypnol given to those ladies was about the same. They might doze off again before long, and I would make sure to mention that to the doctor.

I took in a breath and told the women that we needed their statements. I said they had been drugged last night, they were lucky to be alive, and with their help, we hoped to apprehend the people responsible for their attacks as well as other attacks earlier in the week.

“We were really drugged, and that’s why we’re here?” Laura snapped her head toward her friend and began to cry. “I don’t remember a damn thing. How could we be so naive? We’ve never been to Savannah before, and we chose it because we thought the South was genteel and safe.”

Rue spoke up. “It is in many ways, but there are bad actors in every city, including our own. Cities that are tourist destinations, especially in the historic district where the bars and restaurants are located, are known for criminal activity.”

Diane took her turn. “I figured that to be the safest place. Lots of tourists out having fun—”

“And letting their guard down because they’re in a large group of people? Some who could be your assailants?”

“I guess so.”

“Will you walk us through everything you do remember? It’s extremely important to tell us every detail no matter how small you may think it is. Start with when you ladies decided to leave the hotel and go out.”

Laura began. “It wasn’t much different than the day before. We walked the touristy areas, saw the sights, and shopped on East River Street. We returned to the hotel, dropped off our bags, then went swimming. Later, we cleaned up, dressed for dinner, and walked East Bay Street.”

Diane picked up the rest of the details. “We stopped and listened to music for a while then decided where to have supper.”

“Which was where?” Rue asked.

“Bobby Johns.”

Devon nodded. “Fun place, and I bet it was packed too.”

“It was. We had supper there and a few drinks. We weren’t in a hurry to leave, but after an hour and a half, we decided to continue on. We planned to head home on Saturday, so we wanted to make the most of our last few nights in Savannah.”

I took notes as the women talked. Normally, we would have invited them to the precinct to give recorded formal statements, but neither woman was ready to leave the hospital yet.

“Understandable,” I said. “And something most tourists would do. Where was your last stop, and did both of you feel normal up to that point?”

Laura and Diane gave each other a glance before Laura spoke up.

“I’ll admit we each had four to six drinks throughout the night, but I wouldn’t say we were drunk.”

“Yet you might have had enough to let your guard down, right?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“And the last place you remember being?”

“Tony’s Tap. It was on our way back to the hotel.”

“Were there still a lot of people milling about, or were you two alone on the sidewalk?”

Diane shook her head. “People still filled the streets and sidewalks. We felt completely safe.”

“Did anyone bump you?”

“Bump us? Um, actually, yes, now that I think of it. We heard guys talking and laughing behind us just like every other person on the sidewalk, but then they ran into us. I thought I felt a sharp poke, but since we were sort of—”

“Drunk?”

Diane stared at her folded hands. “I guess so. Neither of us gave it much thought. We assumed the guys were inebriated, too, so we laughed it off and continued on. They even walked with us most of the way.”

Rue’s eyes bulged. “You’re kidding.”

Diane shook her head.

I couldn’t believe what she’d just said, so I took my turn. “Then what happened?”

“Then we woke up here.”

“But you got a good look at both of them?”

Laura frowned. “Not at all. You could put them in a lineup, and I wouldn’t have a clue. The sidewalk was relatively dark between bars and restaurants. I didn’t pay much attention to their faces since we were walking.”

“You ladies know what Rohypnol is, right?”

“Of course, the date-rape drug,” Diane said.

“Well, that was likely the poke you felt. Those criminals have found a way to liquefy the drug and inject it into their victims.”

“Did they—”

“You were both found in Emmett Park, only a block from your hotel, fully dressed but missing your purses,” I said.

“Oh my God!”

“Don’t beat yourselves up. Both of you are lucky to be alive. Can you tell us what credit cards were in your purses? If the perps used them, we might catch them on an ATM or store camera.”

“Wouldn’t they need our pin numbers?”

I nodded. “For an ATM, yes, and you might have given them the PINs without remembering.”

After noting their information, along with a list of everything of value in the ladies’ purses, we thanked them and gave them our cards.

“We’ll clear it with the hotel to give you ladies new hotel keys, and I’d suggest freezing all your credit cards immediately.”

Diane wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I feel so stupid. I don’t have my user name, my password, or even my credit card numbers memorized.”

“I would do what you can. Feel free to give the credit card companies the precinct phone number. We’ll do what we can to help.”

After thanking them again, Rue and I walked out of the room. We stopped in the hallway and told the doctor how Katie’s experience went after her Rohypnol poisoning. We wanted the doctor to be aware that the ladies might pass out again and wondered if it was prudent to send them on their way. She thanked us for the information and said she would make that decision later. She would keep them there until after lunch. After handshakes, we continued to the exit.

I spoke under my breath as we left the building. “So, the interview with the ladies got us nowhere.”

Rue grunted. “Not entirely. We now know that the culprits are using the drug in liquid form by injecting water bottles, as in Katie’s case, but also by injecting the victims through their skin too.”

“Yeah. Sitting next to someone in a bar is time-consuming, then actually dropping a pill in their drink could easily be caught on camera. Also, if the perp is sitting next to the mark the entire time, identifying them in a lineup ought to be a piece of cake.”

“Right. So, have the drug ready for consumption or an accidental bump and poke. All the perp has to do is wait out the victim from a distance until they’re rendered helpless.”

Chapter 35

We returned to the car, and during our drive to Squirrel’s Nest, my phone rang. It was Royce.

“This might be the tox results.” I set my phone to Speaker and answered.

“Cannon here.”

“Mitch, it’s Royce. Katie’s tox report was confirmed positive for Rohypnol.”

I let out a loud breath. “As expected, but hearing it helps. Now we can be more aggressive with Danny Hines and his group of criminals.”

“You on your way back to Squirrel’s Nest?”

“Yep. A better look at the footage for Leslie’s benefit as well as Katie’s can’t hurt. This time, I want to look closer at the other customers. I’ll keep you posted.”

I hung up just as Rue parked. Inside, we again thanked Tom for coming in early and providing that footage for us. We walked to the office, where Tom already had the video queued up.

“Have a seat, Detectives. I’ve already fast-forwarded the tape to the time in question. It shows Leslie approach a woman who just bellied up to the bar. You can take it from there.”

“Great. Thanks, Tom.”

I tapped Play, and we watched closely. We wanted to see if anything looked amiss between Katie and Leslie or anyone else with Leslie. Because the place was packed, we couldn’t hear their conversations, but by the interaction between them, everything looked fine. We saw from Leslie’s side of the bar that the two ladies seemed to enjoy each other’s company. There would be no reason for Katie to attack Leslie hours later in that dark alley. Leslie brought out Katie’s beer and, twenty minutes later, her meal. There was no smoking gun, no person hiding in the shadows, nobody watching either of them too closely, and nobody else we recognized. We didn’t see anyone immediately leave when Katie did, and there didn’t seem to be anyone who looked threatening to Leslie either. After Katie walked away, Leslie resumed her normal bartending duties and laughed with the patrons.

I leaned back, groaned, then scratched my head. “I guess we can conclude that everything at Squirrel’s Nest happened exactly like Katie said. Let’s head to the station and see if the boys have wrangled up those lowlifes yet.”

“Wait. Before we leave, I think we should fast-forward to closing. Maybe give that a quick look to see if everything appeared normal or if someone was still lingering around from hours earlier.”

“Not a bad idea.”

I advanced the footage to a quarter of twelve. Almost all city bars closed at midnight on Sunday, then the staff had another hour of cleaning and restocking to do. I watched the bar area for Leslie. She would likely be cleaning the bar, washing glasses, and restocking the coolers. I didn’t see her anywhere.

“That’s weird. I don’t see Leslie.”

I went back to eleven o’clock, where she should have appeared to be working, but we didn’t see her then either.

“Where the hell is Leslie?”

“I’ll go ask Tom.” Rue rose and walked out the door.

Minutes later, Tom and Rue walked in.

“If you can give me a minute on the computer, Detective Cannon, I’ll have to see when Leslie punched out on Sunday night. Because I don’t work nights and Leslie doesn’t report directly to me, I don’t know if she worked the entire shift or not.”

“Of course.”

I moved aside and waited. With a few taps on the keyboard, Tom had Leslie’s previous schedule and hours worked in front of us. She’d clocked out at nine thirty Sunday night, citing that she felt sick.

“There you go.” Tom pointed at the screen. “That’s why you don’t see Leslie around closing time. She had already gone home.”

Once again, my head spun as I recalled Tapper’s field exam and him saying that our dead woman likely died between ten p.m. and one a.m. It was all coming together.

Three people had walked the streets of Savannah that night, and two were unaware that their paths would collide. Leslie left work, Katie left Woody’s, and by that time, Danny began prowling the area. Two were innocents, and one had evil intentions in mind. It wouldn’t take long before a deadly conclusion unfolded.

We needed undeniable proof that Danny was responsible for Leslie’s murder, but how to get it was a mystery. Royce had to work on the warrant for Danny’s outdoor camera footage and serve it to the company who owned the equipment and had the video files.

We still had to contact Marty and find out if he had new information to pass on since yesterday. We needed to pay Carly’s Crib a visit too.

Chapter 36

“Wait a minute. What?”

“I’m telling you what I’m watching as we speak. I borrowed my neighbor’s car and was on my way to Kenny’s house when I saw the Savannah Police Department’s detention bus pull up to the curb. Four cops got out, one with papers in hand. They banged on his door and hauled him out minutes later with his hands cuffed behind his back. Another squad car rolled up, and two cops stopped, talked to the others, then went inside the house. The bus left with Kenny inside.”

“And why did that happen?”

“Dude, I had to give the cops something. They’re onto you, so I threw a few guys under the bus to help you out. The cops intend to search everyone’s houses for the Rohypnol. They know it was you who gave the water bottle to that girl on Sunday.”

“Son of a bitch. It sounds like Katie has loose lips. I may have to pay her a visit.”

“Maybe so, but don’t worry. Those detectives will hit a brick wall once they question the guys. Kenny and the others won’t have any idea what they’re talking about. The cops will think the guys are clamming up when in fact they’re actually questioning the wrong criminals.” Marty chuckled. “I give those detectives what they think is the truth, and they pay me. Then I tell you what they plan to do so you can stay one step ahead of them, and I get paid from you too. A win-win situation for me. I look out for myself, and so far, it’s serving me well. The process is going exactly like it should. Keep in mind, they’re going to search each house for the Rohypnol and find nothing. They want to meet with me later, where they’ll press me for word on the street as far as a stash house location.”

“You’re walking a fine line, Marty, by playing both sides of the law. Just don’t get overconfident. Give those detectives something—an address of an abandoned building ought to work. Say you heard someone mention a place that was said to have a secret stash there. It’ll give us time to pull off more robberies while they’re looking for the drugs that they won’t find. Just make sure those cops never have a reason in hell to step foot in your house.”

“And they won’t since I’ll never give them a reason to. For now, I’ll follow the bus. I want to see if they pick up the rest of the guys. If they do, that means they bought my story hook, line, and sinker.”

“Yeah, yeah, do it now and stay invisible. Update me as soon as you know more.”

“Got it.”

Marty hung up and shifted into Drive but made sure to stay a good quarter mile behind the bus to avoid being seen. He followed the bus to another familiar location—Jose’s apartment. He watched from a half block away and chuckled the entire time. Just like at Kenny’s house, the four detectives got out with papers in hand and went through the same process they had earlier. They banged on Jose’s door and took him out in cuffs minutes later. A second squad car pulled up and parked, and two officers went inside.

When one of the detectives did a visual scan of the street, Marty ducked and pressed his body against the seat. After waiting a few seconds, he cautiously peeked over the dash. The bus had pulled away from the curb.

Marty sat up and turned over the ignition. If things went as expected, Craig’s house would be next. After pulling into traffic, Marty followed the bus one more time. The route the bus took told him that Craig’s house was about to be invaded by cops with cuffs.

Marty wondered what reason the cops had given the guys about why they were being detained for questioning.

The detectives don’t really have to tell them anything unless they’re placing the guys under arrest. If only I was a fly on the inside wall of that bus. Those guys must be going crazy wondering what the detectives are hauling them in for.

Marty gave Danny a callback and updated him.

“It’s going exactly like it should. All three of the guys, poor suckers, are heading to the police station, where they’ll be grilled about their involvement. Later, I have to get with Cannon and Rue to tell them what I heard on the street about the stash house.”

“Good. Just keep them busy and out of my hair. As long as they don’t catch anyone in the act or find the drugs, we’re home free. I’m going to expand this enterprise, along with the drug sales, to other tourist locations. God knows these stupid tour ticket booths aren’t making me enough money these days. Too many people are buying discounted hotel packages and tour deals online. If this new way of raking in cash does well, I’ll sell the tour booth business and expand the Rohypnol business. Since the old man has no power behind bars, I can do whatever I want.” Danny laughed. “Do what you need to do to keep those cops busy. Meanwhile, I’ll get our real guys ready to make another move. The weekend is almost here, and those are the best nights to cash in.”

Chapter 37

Once we reached the precinct, we rushed across the parking lot. Bentley said they were back and had begun the interrogation process. They were using all three of the interview rooms to expedite the questioning. Ricky had gone home, but Bob agreed to stick around so all three detainees could be interviewed at the same time.

We walked in and headed to our lower level. All of the lights above the interview room doors were illuminated, indicating the rooms were in use.

Rue and I walked into the first observation room and watched through the window. Lawrence sat across from Kenny, who faced us. I pressed the intercom button and heard the interview already in progress. We sat for five minutes and listened as Kenny vehemently denied taking part in the drugging of Katie, Diane, Laura, and who knew how many other people for the purpose of robbing them.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never drugged anyone. I don’t know who those people are that you’ve named.”

“How about Leslie Connor?”

Kenny raised his eyebrows. “Who?”

“The woman who was murdered last Sunday night. Her tox report came back showing she had Rohypnol in her system. She was drugged, beaten, robbed, and murdered in an alley. All of her belongings were gone, and it took us a good portion of the week to even identify her.”

Kenny shrugged. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about or who that Leslie woman was. I’m sorry she’s dead, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“You better give that some serious thought. We want to know where Danny Hines hides his stash of Rohypnol, and if you don’t fess up, you’ll go down for the drugging and robberies along with the murder.”

“No way, man. I want a lawyer.”

I let out an irritated groan. “Well, that didn’t take long. Let’s listen in on the next interview.”

Rue and I moved on to the second room. We sat, turned on the intercom, and stared through the one-way glass. Bob from our night shift was interviewing Jose. It appeared that the same questions were being asked, and the same answers were being given. Jose denied everything Bob threw at him and lawyered up.

“Damn it. They must have discussed what to say and do while they were in the back of the bus together.”

“That’s easy enough to find out,” Rue said. “Even though they were told to keep quiet, their conversations are recorded. We can listen to them. First, let’s see what’s going on with Bentley and Craig.”

Looking into the last observation room, we saw the interview wrapping up. Bentley stood and exited Room 3.

I opened the door and called out as he passed. “Hey, what did Craig say?”

Curt grumbled as he looked our way. “Didn’t know you boys were back. The jerk lawyered up almost immediately.”

“So did the other two.”

“What the hell? I didn’t get anything from him.”

“All Bob and Lawrence got were denials. They lawyered up less than five minutes into the interviews.”

Rue added his two cents. “So it seems that they’re all on the same page. They must have planned that as soon as they were picked up—deny everything that was asked then immediately lawyer up. We’ll have to cut them loose. All we have is Marty saying that the three of them were part of the Rohypnol scheme with Danny. Since that’s hearsay and we don’t have eyewitnesses to put them at any scenes, plus we don’t have the drugs to prove any of them did anything, we’re screwed.”

“Before we cut them loose, we need to see if the officers found anything at their houses. There’s no way we’re going to waste those warrants. The officers need to dig deep in every nook and cranny and find something for us.”

“And if they don’t find anything?” Bentley asked.

“Then we call Marty. He promised to put his ear to the streets. Hopefully, he’ll learn the whereabouts of the stash house used by Danny Hines.”

The other detectives joined us and left the detainees for the time being. We gathered in the jail’s small waiting area. I called Officer Simmons, who along with Officer King was going through Kenny’s house.

I spoke up as soon as he answered. “Simmons, it’s Detective Cannon. Find anything suspicious or drug-related there?”

“No, sir. Actually, we’re almost done inside. We’re going to check the garage and vehicle next.”

“Okay, keep us posted.”

I made two more calls and got the same answers. The homes had turned up no Rohypnol, no other drug, and no evidence that drugs had ever been there.

I frowned with confusion. “I’m not understanding this. I know Danny wouldn’t be acting alone.”

Rue raked his hair. “You sure? Fewer people who know what he’s up to means less chances of being caught or ratted out.”

“True, but he seems the type who would rather call out orders than do all of it himself. Maybe I’m wrong, but either way, my next call is to Marty.” I pushed up my sleeve. “We’ll wait another thirty minutes before I give the officers a final call. If they haven’t found anything by then, we’ll have to let the guys go.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the number for Marty’s burner phone. As it rang, I tapped my fingers on my knee.

“Marty here.”

“Marty, it’s Detective Cannon.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Hear anything about a stash house?”

“I thought we were going to meet later this afternoon.”

“Change of plans. Hear anything?”

“Actually, yeah. I was going to check it out myself to see if it was legit.”

“No. You aren’t law enforcement, and we don’t want our CIs seen walking all over a potential area that may hold evidence.”

“But nobody knows I’m a CI.”

“And I need it to stay that way. Just tell me what you heard and give me the address.”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard those same guys mention putting the drugs inside an abandoned office building on the south side of town. Here’s the address. I checked Google Street View, and it’s a legit place. It’s all overgrown and shit.”

“Okay. You said those same guys, Kenny, Craig, and Jose were talking about it?”

“Right. I guess that’s where Danny said to hide it. Maybe his old man owns the building or something, but I’m only guessing.”

“And when did they say that?”

“Last night’s street corner chatter.” Marty chuckled. “And I get paid to listen.”

Chapter 38

The half hour I had vowed to wait had come and gone. I made the final calls to see if the officers had found drugs of any kind in those three homes, but they hadn’t. I told them to head to the precinct, then I hung up.

“We’ve got to let them go. Either Marty had the wrong intel, the wrong guys, or the Rohypnol is actually in that office building he gave me the address for. Funny thing is, he’s still saying Craig, Kenny, and Jose are the guys who were supposed to put the drugs in that abandoned building on Danny’s orders.”

Rue huffed. “Why is that such a mystery? Play stupid, don’t admit anything, then lawyer up so our questioning comes to an abrupt halt. Criminal Behavior 101.”

“Yeah, you’re right, and it’s been done a million times. I just figured if we pressured them with all of the charges, one of them would have spilled their guts.”

Bob took his turn. “Not if they all stick to the same story. Now we can’t get anything out of them. Lawyer or not, they’re not talking.”

I jerked my head toward the interview rooms. “Go ahead and release them, then see if the boss will let you go home, Bob. You’ve been on duty long enough.”

Rue and I went upstairs and told Royce that the men had lawyered up and that the officers hadn’t found any drugs in their homes.

“I did speak with Marty, though. He said he’d overheard Danny telling the very guys we had downstairs where to stash the drugs.”

“Meaning they just moved them? Who had the Rohypnol until then?”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t at Danny’s house, and it wasn’t at the three that were just searched, so who knows?”

Royce rubbed his chin. “You heading to that office building now?”

“Yep, that’s the plan.”

“Okay, call me as soon as you find something.”

I chuckled. “I’ll call you either way. So far, we’ve been batting a big fat zero.”

We drove to the address Marty had given us. It was indeed an abandoned two-story office building, and weeds had taken up residence in the cracks in the asphalt parking lot. Newspaper had been taped to the inside of the windows, but I found a spot where the paper had drooped enough to allow me to peek through. What I saw looked to be the main lobby. A long-vacated reception counter stood at the far wall, yet chairs still sat behind it. Computer terminals and landline phones remained in place. The image reminded me of a movie where time had stopped and all people had disappeared. I wondered if the individual offices were still intact with furniture too.

We needed a way in, and obviously, the criminals had already found it, unless, like Marty had said, the building was owned by the Hines family and Danny had given his boys a key to get through the front door.

“Let’s walk around the building, check out the points of entry, then make a decision,” I said.

Before heading to the back, I pulled on the front door, but as expected, it was locked. We moved around to the rear and found that door unlocked, which surprised me. We entered a dark hallway and called out that we were the Savannah PD but heard nothing in response. Before we went any farther, I swatted at the wall and connected with the switch. A fluorescent light above us flickered and buzzed before it went out completely.

I groaned. “So much for seeing where we’re going.”

Rue engaged his phone’s flashlight, then I did the same. We needed to find another light source that worked. It was apparent that the electricity hadn’t been turned off.

We turned a corner and saw a half-dozen individual offices. Each had a glass wall facing the hallway, and every office door was open. That would expedite our search. Realizing the enormity of searching two floors of offices and every closet, nook, and cranny, I made a call to our precinct.

As the phone rang on Royce’s end, I hit the light switches inside each office as I walked by. Most of them lit up.

Royce finally answered. “Find something already?”

“No, but this place is much larger than I had thought. We’ll be here all day and then some.”

“Okay. I’ll send over those officers who searched the houses.”

“Thanks. We appreciate all the help we can get.”

Devon and I began searching the first-floor offices. Each room was the size of a large bedroom, and each had a closet. Some offices still had furniture, and others didn’t. Those, we got through quickly.

Within a half hour, the officers showed up. I sent them upstairs to begin the tedious process of searching that entire floor. When finished combing the obvious areas, we would have to hit the attic space and search that.

My mind returned to those three men. I wished they hadn’t been released before I had the conversation with Marty. The detectives could have asked about the stash being hidden in the office building. I let out a long sigh as I searched through a closet.

They didn’t tell us anything before lawyering up. Once they did, we couldn’t question them anymore.

There wasn’t anything we could do but continue searching. Once we found the stash, we would fingerprint everything. Hopefully, that would give us the answers we needed. At least it would tell us who was involved in all things Rohypnol-related.

Chapter 39

Marty scrolled the contacts using his regular phone, tapped a name, and Danny answered on the second ring.

“So, did you get those detectives looking in a different direction?”

“Yeah, I did, but they still assume you’re the man behind the drugs. They released Kenny, Craig, and Jose, obviously because they couldn’t get anything from them. After that, Cannon called me, then I sent them on a wild goose chase to an abandoned office building. I said those same guys were instructed to move the drugs there.”

Danny laughed. “I guess it doesn’t matter what the cops think I did. They don’t have proof of anything, and those three idiots didn’t admit to having any part of the Rohypnol or the robberies.”

“A good place for you to be at.”

“That’s right, and now I need more from you, Marty.”

“Just say it, and I’ll make it happen. I’m starting to enjoy this double income.”

“Good, but you have to earn it. What I want is for you to follow Cannon everywhere he goes. Plus, you need to find out where Katie lives so I can pay her a visit. I know it isn’t far from the tour booth I was working Sunday night. She said she lives on Bay Street. That much, I know, but I don’t remember if she said it was east or west. I’m thinking west.”

“Not a problem. I’ll have to borrow my neighbor’s car for a few days, though.”

“Nobody else needs to be involved. Find a way to get to my old man’s house. You can use one of his vehicles. They’re just sitting in the garage anyway, but don’t ever use it when you meet with the cops. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Return your neighbor’s car and get a rideshare. I’ll be waiting at the gate in an hour, and don’t be late. Here’s the address.”

Marty drove home, returned the car, and thanked his neighbor. He checked the map app on his phone to see how long it would take to get to the address Danny had given him—twenty minutes. He called the rideshare he often used and asked to be picked up in a half hour. He felt it was better to be early than to piss off Danny Hines.

Marty arrived at the home owned by Jimmy Hines ten minutes early, and Danny was already there. A test, he presumed. After exiting the car, Marty approached Danny at the gate.

“Ready and willing to start trailing Cannon, Boss.”

“Good. Let’s get the car so you can begin.”

Danny wasn’t one for small talk. He got right down to business, especially with his subordinates. They weren’t equals, and Danny didn’t have the time or inclination to become best friends with them.

After passing through the gates, Danny led the way to the four-car garage. He dug the remote from his pocket and pressed the button for the first door. It rose, and they entered. Danny looked from one parked vehicle to the other. He pointed at the second one. “Go ahead and take the truck. It doesn’t stand out like the Mercedes does.”

“Yeah, okay. It makes no difference to me.”

Danny fished the truck keys from his pocket and gave them to Marty. Once more, with the remote in hand, he pressed the second button and raised the garage door in front of the truck.

“Go find Cannon and tail him. Keep me informed on every move he makes. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely.”

“Good. Get me Katie’s address today too. I’m going to pay her a visit soon, possibly tonight.” Danny jerked his head toward the truck. “Head out and keep your phone handy.”

Chapter 40

Hours had passed, yet between the eight of us, we hadn’t found drugs or a single illegal item in the office building. Something was wrong. I wondered if Marty was just feeding us information we wanted to hear or if his cover had been blown and Danny and his boys had made sure Marty overheard fake information. Maybe it was time to dump Marty as a CI in that particular case or maybe for good. I wasn’t sure he was reliable anymore. We didn’t have the option of using Kyle Porter, the CI we’d used with Jimmy Hines. His sentence had been reduced, as promised, and he was relocated to a minimum-security prison two hours away.

I needed to talk to Marty again and clear the air. His intel about the men, and now the stash house, hadn’t panned out. We needed to know why. Was he telling us things to stay on our good side because he didn’t actually have any news to share, or was something else going on?

We headed to the precinct with nothing more than we’d had that morning. We would discuss Marty with Royce, get his take on the situation, then do whatever he suggested.

Upstairs and in his office, Rue and I sat down on the guest chairs opposite our boss.

With a groan, Royce gave us a nod to go ahead. “Let’s hear it.”

I shrugged. “Danny Hines is like Teflon. Nothing sticks, no evidence is ever found, and no intel seems reliable.”

“So what are we missing?”

“You still think it’s impossible to get a warrant on Danny’s outdoor cameras?”

“It was tough enough to get a warrant for his premises without physical proof of wrongdoing. Everything was and still is hearsay. Now to get a warrant for his exterior cameras through an outside source? I can try, but don’t hold your breath.”

“Hmm…”

We looked at Rue.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, we’d talked about blindsiding his criminal helpers at the beverage carts. I’m sure those carts are owned by the company, not Danny Hines personally. Plus, we haven’t searched their office building yet. Maybe that’s his stash house.”

Royce grunted. “A pretty bold move if it is. Finding drugs there or in any beverage container at the business headquarters or in those carts or kiosks would shut down that company once and for all.”

“Then that’s our only option, and the sooner the better,” I said. “We have to get a warrant to search everything owned by Savannah’s Best Specialty Tours.”

Royce knuckled his desk. “I’ll make it happen. For now, go find every cart and kiosk you can with their logo on it. Don’t approach anyone. Just take note of where they do their business.”

“On it,” I said. “We’ll look in every park for the carts and on every sidewalk for the tour kiosks. I already know where a few of them are.”

Chapter 41

Danny answered his phone on the third ring. “Hello.”

“Hey, Boss. It’s Marty.”

“No shit. Your name came up on my caller ID.”

“Oh, right. Anyway, something smells suspicious.”

“In English, please.”

“Sure. I’m following Cannon like you said. He and his partner are checking out every park in the historic district. They’ve already driven by two of your tour stands too.”

“So, what do you think they’re up to?”

“Well, like I said before, they know you gave Katie that bottle of water and that she had been given Rohypnol. They’ve already put two and two together. It looks like they’re circling the wagons and getting ready to strike. They probably wanted to know where everything you own is located.”

Danny laughed. “I don’t own any of those stands or carts. The company does. They’ve already used their warrant on my home and found nothing. They can’t search company-owned items with that same warrant.”

“But—”

“But what?”

“But that doesn’t mean they can’t get a warrant for the company.”

“Shit. We’ve got to replace every water bottle at the kiosks and every drink bottle in the beverage carts immediately. Keep your eyes on the detectives. Meanwhile, I’ll call the guys and have them swap out the beverages in every cart at every park the detectives have driven by. Tell me now where they’ve already been.”

After writing down the locations, Danny called his guys at those stands. He also enlisted the help of others who owed him favors. He told them to deliver cases of water to every tour kiosk and cases of soda, water, and iced tea in plastic bottles to the beverage carts he listed. They needed to drop everything and do that immediately. Further instructions would come within the hour.

Danny stewed as he paced his office. After the call from Marty, Danny sent the receptionist home. He needed to make sure every square inch of the building, including the computers and paperwork, didn’t contain a single word that could incriminate him and send him to jail like his father.

Marty called again an hour later. From his shaky voice, Danny knew that Marty was rattled. He said Cannon had called him and wanted to know why the location of the alleged stash house didn’t pan out. He wanted to get together and discuss it, but first, he would meet with Katie one more time, press her harder for information, and see if she could think of anything else Danny Hines had shared with her. If she couldn’t recall anything, he would find another way to get her to remember.

Danny cursed into the phone. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I have no idea, Boss. I’m just passing along what Cannon said. He also told me that they would be paying your office a visit soon. He said I need to get closer to you and listen harder to every conversation you have with your guys. He reminded me not to get anything else wrong since I’m tying up their resources with bad intel.”

Danny chuckled. “Well, he can go ahead and pay me a visit. This building is sterile from top to bottom. I’ve made sure of that. There’s nothing they’ll find here. Everything is in my SUV for now. Plus, they need a warrant before they can step foot through this door, and that’ll take a little time. By the way, did you get Katie’s address yet?”

“No, but I will as soon as Cannon reaches her apartment.”

“Find out what he meant by getting her to remember too.”

“Yes, sir. So, have all of the carts and kiosks been swapped out?”

“Yep. I’ll come to your house soon and drop off this stuff. Make sure you have a good place to hide everything.”

“Not a problem. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good. I have to admit, Marty, surprisingly, you’re the main person I can trust and count on.”

Marty sighed through the phone line. “Thank you, sir, and I promise I’ll never let you down. I’ll call you back with Katie’s address as soon as the detectives get there.”

Chapter 42

I was thankful Katie didn’t have a job yet, although that might be causing her undue anxiety. For us, it made things easy—she was always available when we needed to talk or stop by.

That afternoon, we were stopping by because we needed more. Without proof of wrongdoing on Danny’s part, we were just pissing in the wind.

Katie had to remember something. I realized that she was under the influence, but I wondered, with a little more effort on her part, could there be a chance of pulling more from her memory?

I had consulted with Patty, who suggested trying harder with Katie’s dream, hence the reason for our visit. If nothing came of it, Patty agreed to try again but that time with direct questions about Katie’s involvement. Danny was likely the assailant, but we still didn’t know why Katie’s earring was at the scene. If we couldn’t get more information ourselves, then we needed everything Patty could pull from Katie’s mind with a second hypnosis session and different questions.

When we arrived, Katie buzzed us through. She stood at her open door, waiting for us to walk down the hallway. When she saw us, she instinctively smiled. I liked that about her, and in my gut, I knew she was as much a victim as Leslie. Still, we had to get every fact and detail we could in order to pursue Danny as the perp and solve the case.

Katie welcomed us into her tidy apartment, much different than the first time we had been there. She offered us the couch, and she took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs.

“So, Katie, we still haven’t made any arrests yet,” I said.

“But you think Danny Hines is responsible, right?”

“We do,” Rue said, “but we have nothing that puts him at the scene of Leslie’s murder. Unfortunately, he didn’t even have scuffed knuckles. The only conduit is you.”

Her frown told us she was confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“I mean Leslie was badly beaten and then died because of a hard blow to her forehead, likely from the dumpster since her blood was found on it. You were also beaten, and your earring was at the scene.”

“But I thought—”

“The story of it falling off and somebody else picking it up doesn’t hold water. You were there, Katie. It’s the only thing that makes sense and the only explanation for your injuries.”

She stared at the floor then nodded. “I know.”

“Do us a favor,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll do anything to help.”

“Close your eyes and relive that nightmare you had in as much detail as you can remember. This time, visualize Leslie as the woman who was screaming for help and you as the person who heard her and ran to her aid.”

“Then aren’t we just making up a story as we go?”

“No. It’s likely what really happened, and you were remembering it in the dream. What we need are details of the dream since you can’t remember anything in your awake state because of the Rohypnol.”

Rue took over. “Let’s change places. We want you as comfortable as possible, Katie. Mitch and I will sit on the chairs, and you lie on the couch.”

“You aren’t going to try to hypnotize me, are you?”

“Nope. We don’t know how. We only want you to tell us what your dream was about in the greatest detail you can. If nothing works, you might have to meet with Patty again.”

Katie switched spots with us. “Okay, I’ll do the best I can.”

I gave her a reassuring smile as she got comfortable. “And that’s all we’re asking of you.”

Chapter 43

“Got a pen and paper?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Okay. Katie lives on West Bay Street just past Montgomery.” Marty gave Danny the apartment number. “It’s on the first floor, and the resident directory shows Katherine Woods as her name.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to ring her bell and try to sell her cookies. I’ll wait until someone leaves then go in before the door closes, or I’ll buzz apartments until someone lets me in.”

“The detectives are there now.”

“Do you know why?” Danny asked.

“No clue.”

“Okay, go home and wait for me there. I’ll bring everything over to your place for safekeeping while the detectives are busy. That includes my computer and sensitive documents from work, if you know what I mean. After that, they can search the office, the booths, and the carts until the cows come home. They won’t find anything.”

“True, but you’re losing money by not having the guys sell drinks or handing out water at the tour booths.”

“Just a temporary setback. Remember what I said about expanding into other cities? I thought of another genius plan too.”

Marty chuckled. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“We’ll take cash, jewelry, and phones from the victims, but we won’t take their purses and credit cards. What we’ll do is snap pictures of the credit cards and checks, if they have the checkbook in their purses. Knowing the card number, the expiration date, and the three-digit code is golden. We don’t need the physical card to use it online, and if we don’t take it, the ladies won’t cancel it. We can use it for a full month until their next payment comes due before they’re the wiser. As far as the checks go, we can get the bank name, the routing number, and the account number off the check then make a small deposit and ask for a balance. When we see how much money they have in their account, we can start making withdrawals.”

“Ah, good thinking. Okay, I’ll be home in five.”

“Good. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and you can help me unload everything into your garage. I’ll handle Ms. Woods either tonight or tomorrow.”

Back home and awaiting Danny’s arrival, Marty pulled several totes from his attic space and carried them into his bedroom. Within the next day or two, they would come in handy.

Twenty minutes later and right on schedule, Danny backed into Marty’s driveway. Marty closed the blinds he had been watching through, headed to the garage, and lifted the overhead. Danny backed in, and Marty lowered the door.

“Let’s get this shit out of my SUV and stash it somewhere.”

Marty waved Danny off. “I’ll put it away. You need to go back to the office and act normal just in case they barge in on you with a warrant in hand. You’ll be the one laughing when they find nothing and walk away with their tails tucked between their legs.”

Danny grinned as he mulled over that comment. “You’re right, and that’s what I’ll do. Anyway, think of a good place to hide everything. There’s no way in hell they can find this stuff here at your house.”

Marty snickered. “And they won’t. I guarantee it.”

Chapter 44

As she lay on the couch with her eyes squeezed closed, Katie was clearly doing her best to recall every detail of the dream she’d had several nights ago. That time, she dug deeper into the nightmare than when she had paraphrased it to me over the phone yesterday. I was amazed that her recall was so detailed. She was likely doing her best because she knew how much we needed her help in order to solve the case.

Scene by scene and memory by memory, she walked us through the nightmare as if she were someone else narrating events as they unfolded. I assumed that because the alley was so dark—and in her dream, she hadn’t been able to see who screamed, who went to the woman’s aid, or who the culprit was—Katie wasn’t certain she was one of the characters herself.

“The night was still young, I think.”

“Why do you say that, Katie?” I asked.

“Music. It’s always in my ears and in my head, and then I heard it in my dream.”

I glanced at Rue. The timing fit perfectly—right around ten p.m.

“Where were you when you heard music?” Rue asked.

“Walking.”

I took my turn. “Where to?”

“Home, maybe. I’m not sure. That’s when I heard a woman screaming for help. She wasn’t close but close enough to hear.”

“Could it have been you, or do you see someone else?”

“I don’t. It was so dark in that—”

“In that alley? Did your nightmare happen in that same alley we took you to, Katie?”

“Yes. Maybe that’s why I was afraid to go in there. The woman—”

I leaned forward. “What about her?”

“She didn’t sound like me. It wasn’t my voice.”

Tears ran down Katie’s cheeks then disappeared into her hairline below her ears.

“So maybe you were the person who followed the sound of her screams. You went to help because you’re brave, Katie. That alley didn’t scare you Sunday night.”

“But my heart was pounding so hard. It was dark when I turned in to the alley, so I could only see shadowy figures.”

“It was you who went to her aid, and it was adrenaline pumping through your body. What happened when you got there?”

Katie let out an involuntary moan. “I’m afraid, but she’s even more frightened. She sounded like she was in pain. I hear a man’s voice cursing her. He says she’s going to pay for running her mouth. That’s when I stepped into the darkness and saw them near the dumpsters.”

“Did the man say what she was running her mouth about?”

“No, but I think they both knew what he meant.” Katie sucked in a deep breath. “I moved in closer and saw the woman on the ground, and the man was kicking her. I could only see their shapes but not their features. Their voices told me who was who. It only took a second before the man came at me, and I felt a punch to my gut. I fell and got kicked when I tried to stand up. I lay there and tried to get my bearings, then I saw him grab the woman and launch her into the brick wall. I heard a metallic sound, and maybe that was when she hit the dumpster. My instincts told me to run for help while I had the chance. Wait! I do remember something else.”

My eyes widened. “What was it?”

“He grabbed my arm, but luckily, I was able to get away because he was wearing gloves. I’m sure the smooth leather is the only reason I was able to slip out of his grasp, then my cries for help woke me up.” Katie balled her hands into fists and rubbed her eyes. She sat up and looked at us with sadness written across her face. “I don’t know how the dream ended, but by the way my body looks, I imagine he beat me pretty good before I escaped.” Katie sniffed and reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table. “My nightmare was so scary, so realistic. I’m sure he finished Leslie off after I got away.”

“Okay, take a breath. I’ll get you some water.” I gave her a quick smile. “It’ll be water from the tap.”

Seconds later, I handed Katie the glass, then Rue and I took seats on the couch, bookending her.

“Thanks.”

“You bet. So you didn’t see either of their faces?”

“Unfortunately not, but we know for sure that the woman was Leslie. Isn’t there any way on earth to prove her killer was Danny?”

“Not without evidence or an eyewitness.”

“And the only witness was me in a dark alley where I couldn’t see his face?”

I groaned. “Unfortunately, yes, but we’re going to search the Hines business headquarters and all of their tour booths and beverage carts. Hopefully, we’ll find some evidence.”

I stood, and Rue followed suit. We thanked Katie for the umpteenth time then showed ourselves out.

As we headed to the precinct to wait for the warrants, I thought about the search we were about to conduct. Everyone was on board and waiting for the go-ahead. Rue and I would search the office building, and Lawrence, Bentley, and a handful of officers would take the carts and booths. Somebody was bound to find something. One piece of evidence was all we needed to haul Danny and the boys to jail. As long as Danny and his goons hadn’t somehow been tipped off, we should find plenty of Rohypnol-laced drinks. I was sure the Hines headquarters had the needed information on computers, paper documents, or even phone messages that we could use to track down the person or company who’d supplied Danny with the drugs.

A few hours remained before darkness would take over the parks. By then, the beverage carts and tour booths would shut down for the day. We needed the warrants, and we needed them fast.

Lawrence, Bentley, and the officers planned their approach on the parks and sidewalks while Rue and I waited for the warrants. When my desk phone finally rang, everyone looked my way. Royce was calling, and the warrants were ready to pick up.

“Saddle up, boys. It’s time to go.”

Chapter 45

Danny rushed to the desk where his ringing cell phone lay. He grumbled out an impatient hello.

“The shit is about to hit the fan,” Marty said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I was a few car lengths behind the detectives when they suddenly pulled into the courthouse parking lot.” Marty chuckled. “I can only imagine what they’re doing there.”

Grumbling, Danny snarled, “They’re picking up the warrants, you idiot.”

“Yeah, I know, and I said that sarcastically. Geez. A little edgy, aren’t you?”

“You’re doing a good job tailing them, Marty.” Danny sighed. “And I didn’t mean to snap.”

“Understandable. Anyway, I’m pulling back into traffic. They’re on the road again. I’m sure they’re about to pay you a visit. As long as you play innocent and don’t act like you were expecting them, they’ll begin to question their own tactics. That’s especially true when they don’t find evidence anywhere.” Marty laughed again. “Man, I’d love to be a fly buzzing around when they realize they have nothing on you, now or ever.”

“You’re right, and even though I could use a drink right now, I’ll play it cool when they arrive. I won’t let them get under my skin. Thanks, buddy, and I’ll call you once they leave.”

“No need. I’ll be watching them from a half block away.”

Danny continued, “Okay, then call me when they pull up. There’s no sense in me staring out the window until then.”

“You got it.”

Danny hung up and took a seat at his desk. He tapped the surface with his pen—a nervous habit—then got up again. He checked the drawers for paperwork, the closets for drugs, and each room for anything he might have forgotten to remove. The building was clean, tidy, and free of all things incriminating. He sighed, sat back down, then checked his computer. All business correspondence had been deleted. The only email address and social media page that showed were his personal ones.

It’s all good. I took care of everything.

The ringing phone made Danny jump. He reached across the desk, grabbed it, and answered. “Yeah?”

“They’re parking in front of your building.”

“Okay, thanks.” Danny hung up, took a deep breath, and waited.

Pounding sounded on the front door, then the detectives walked in.

“Savannah PD, Danny. We have a search warrant for this property.”

After pushing back his chair and standing, Danny put on the most shocked expression he could muster. “What the hell? How dare you barge into my business!”

“I just told you,” Cannon said. “We have a search warrant for this property. You’ll have to step out while we’re conducting the search.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“It means you have to leave.”

“What right do you have to force me out of my business?”

Cannon shook the warrant in Danny’s face then jerked his head toward the door. “You’ll have plenty of time to read this elsewhere. It explains everything, and we’ve done this dance before. Now go.”

Reluctantly, but smiling inside, Danny left the building.

Chapter 46

Rue and I waited until the door closed behind Danny, then I shook my head.

“Smug jerk.”

Rue waved away my comment. “Don’t worry about him. I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots and doing enough worrying for both of us.”

“Yeah, let’s get busy. The sooner we find evidence to tie him to the Rohypnol, the sooner we can throw his ass in jail.”

Savannah’s Best Specialty Tours conducted business in a single-story street-facing office building that was around two-thousand square feet. The largest room at the front of the building held two desks, and large photographs of Savannah’s best-known sights hung on the walls. At the back of the room were counters filled with brochures and timetables for individual family tours and group tours that gave customers a detailed, narrated experience of the city and its historic district. Both tours offered prices with and without lunch. Nighttime tours, the most popular ones in Savannah, were the ghost and cemetery tours. Those normally filled up fast.

We would begin in the large area then expand until we had searched the entire building. I took a quick look into the other rooms. They consisted of a file storage room that likely went back to when Danny’s grandfather had opened the business, two other rooms with desks and shelving units, a small lunchroom, and a restroom. It was doable. I was sure we could get through everything in a few hours.

Rue and I dug in. We went through every desk drawer, and while on my knees, I checked beneath the desks for paperwork or drugs taped to the undersides. There was nothing. I checked under the counters and looked through every brochure and behind pictures mounted on the walls. The room held nothing incriminating, and I considered it cleared.

Before we moved on, I peered out the front window. Danny talked on his phone as he sat on a shaded bench across the street. He looked pissed, and that made me smile. I couldn’t wait to find something that would put him and his posse behind bars.

I took those few minutes to make calls to Lawrence and Bentley, who were the leads in the cart and tour booth searches. Since they didn’t have a way to test the beverages on site, they would pack up everything, essentially emptying the carts and booths, then take all of it to the crime lab for Rohypnol testing. They said they were about thirty percent done. After that information was passed on, I hung up.

We continued on, and our first stop was the room on the left side of the hallway—the one holding six file cabinets. That room would likely take the most time. If we ended up there longer than we had hoped, I would call our other detectives, see if they were done, and if they were, I’d enlist their help.

After opening the first file cabinet, I pulled out every hanging folder in the top drawer and took a seat on the floor. I began going through the documents. Rue did the same with the drawer beneath that one. We had to be thorough since incriminating information could have been hidden between pages of paperwork.

Thirty minutes passed, and we’d searched only three drawers in the first cabinet. I realized the process would take too long, but I had an idea that I passed on to Rue.

“You know we can clear the rest of the building then take all of these files back to the precinct. The night shift can go through what we don’t finish.”

Rue stood. His knees popped, then he groaned as he rubbed them. “Yeah, good idea. Let’s leave this mess the way it is, finish off the rest of the building, then gather this paperwork and take it to the station. God knows we have plenty of evidence bags we can fill.”

It took us another two hours to thoroughly search the office building. Several times, Danny had walked in and done his best to distract us. I let him know in no uncertain terms that he was interrupting a search warrant investigation and that if he did it again, he would be arrested and taken to jail. He cursed me and slammed the outer door for the third time.

I was more than agitated. We hadn’t found a damn thing that could incriminate Danny, his old man, or the business in general. All we had left were stacks of paperwork from the file cabinets to jam into evidence bags and take to the precinct so the night shift detectives could mull over every document.

“I’ll check in with the team again,” I said.

Rue gave me a head tip. “Okay, I’ll go get the evidence bags out of the trunk.”

Minutes later, Devon was back with the box of bags and brought them inside. He grumbled as he kicked the door closed behind him. “Let’s get this done. Danny is out there pacing like a caged tiger.”

I laughed. “Do you think I care?”

“No, but I’m pissed. We’ll have nothing but bags of paperwork that’ll take hours to go through. I’m sure when we walk out and tell Danny he can have his damn building back, he’ll grin like a Cheshire cat. That jerk knew we wouldn’t find anything in here.”

“Maybe so, but there’s no way to prove it. Once again, Teflon Danny is slipping through our fingers.”

“What did Lawrence and Bentley say?”

“They took everything to the crime lab and were heading back to the precinct. To expedite things, the crime lab is going to test a random sampling of all the soda, juice, and water bottles. We’ll know the results in a few hours. Meanwhile, the guys can pitch in with this crap until the night crew takes over.”

“Wouldn’t proof of Rohypnol in any bottle be enough?” Rue asked.

“Normally, yes, but with Danny, we need all the proof we can get.”

I went to the file room, filled up nine evidence bags, jammed half of them into the box, and carried them out to the car while Rue brought the rest of the bags to the front door.

As soon as I stepped outside, Danny began.

“Whatcha got there?” he yelled out from across the street.

I returned his yell. “None of your damn business.”

“I need to get back inside.”

“I’ll let you know when you can enter the building. It’s not like you actually do any work in there anyway.”

Danny roared with laughter. “Yeah, well, I still need to lock up.”

After returning to the building, I did a quick walk-through to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. As I returned to the main room on our way out, I cocked my head at the coat tree next to the door. Rue followed my stare.

“What’s wrong?”

“It seems odd to see a jacket hanging there when it’s so nice outside.”

Devon laughed. “Says the guy who dresses according to predictions in The Old Farmer’s Almanac. Personally, I leave my rain slicker and miscellaneous coats on the hooks by my front door year-round then use them as I need them.”

“Yeah, me, too, except my stuff is in a coat closet. Out of sight, out of mind. I guess I don’t pay attention to them. That damn coat should have been the first thing we went through.”

Devon shrugged. “Who pays attention to things that are in plain sight?”

“Detectives should. This is a Hines building, remember?”

I crossed the room to the jacket, which looked like a heavy-duty windbreaker with a half-dozen zipper pockets. After pulling the jacket off the coat tree, I squeezed every pocket to see if something was inside. My heart skipped a beat when I unzipped an inner pocket that clearly had something in it. I reached in and pulled it out. Luckily, I was still gloved.

“Holy shit!”

I grabbed what I had found and dropped it into an evidence bag, then I took it and the rest of the bags and hightailed it out of the building. Danny caught sight of us and rushed to the cruiser.

“You done in there?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out.”

Danny got in my face. “What’s with all the evidence bags?”

I shoved him back. “Are you serious? Get the hell away from me and our car. You’ll be hearing from us soon enough.”

Danny cursed me as I climbed into the passenger side and slammed the door. I grinned at Rue. “Gun it and hit the lights.”

Chapter 47

I called the crime lab as Rue sped down the streets, lights and siren engaged.

“Billy, it’s Mitch.”

“Sure, Mitch, what can I do for you? We’re working on that random sampling but haven’t found Rohypnol in any beverage so far, if that’s why you’re calling.”

“No, and that’s okay. You can get back to it later. Right now, I have something far more important for you to do.”

“Whatever you need, Mitch.”

“We’ll be there in seven minutes. While you’re waiting, get Leslie’s DNA profile ready. We have blood that needs to be tested against it.”

“You bet. We’ll have it ready when you arrive.”

I thanked Billy then hung up and fist-pumped the air.

“We’re going to get him, Rue. We’ve finally found something that’s going to stick. Teflon Danny isn’t going to be so slick this time.”

“Damn straight, and it’s been a long time coming. He can rot in jail until his day in court then spend the rest of his life in prison. His old man will probably be free before Danny ever sees the light of day.”

“And with both of them behind bars, the business will go under. I can’t think of a better outcome for Savannah.”

We reached the crime lab six minutes later. We got lucky with cars moving out of our way. Rue snugged into a vacant spot in the nearly full parking lot, I grabbed the evidence bag from the trunk, then we bolted to the door. Down the hall and to the left was the analysis and computer room, where Billy was waiting. He gave us a nod then held open the door.

“I have Leslie’s DNA ready to go.”

“Good, we need to compare these and get the results as soon as possible.”

I handed the evidence bag to Billy. He tore the seal off the bag, peered in, and smiled while pulling out a pair of leather gloves stained with blood.

“These look like pure gold to me.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for. You match the blood on these gloves with Leslie’s DNA and Danny Hines will be arrested for murder today.”

“Wanna wait? I can have the results in fifteen minutes or less.”

Rue chuckled. “Hell yeah. Meanwhile, we’ll let Royce know what we found.”

“Go ahead,” I told Devon. “Call Royce and tell him the good news. Let him know that without Katie telling us her dream, we would never have known those gloves were significant.”

“Got it.”

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as Rue went over the details with our boss. Danny Hines was about to know what handcuffs around his wrists felt like, and I would be more than happy to place them on him. We would have Forensics continue with the tests for Rohypnol. We couldn’t leave anything on the table, and the more evidence we could gather against Danny, the better our chances of putting him away when his court case came up. Meanwhile, we waited.

Rue hung up, grabbed two coffees from the cafeteria, then sat back down and handed me one.

“Come on. Come on,” he said.

I laughed. “You’re becoming as impatient as me.”

“Nah, but this is big. I can’t wait to see Danny’s face when he’s arrested for Leslie’s murder.”

I nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

Another five minutes passed before we saw Billy walking our way. His expression said it all.

“It’s a match. The blood on the gloves belongs to Leslie.”

“One hundred percent positive?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yep, one hundred percent.”

We jumped up. I gave Billy a slap on the back and thanked him, and Devon and I took off. I yelled back to Billy from the hallway.

“Email me that report and continue testing the beverages!”

Once in the cruiser, Rue cranked the engine and gunned the gas. We would stop at the precinct, tell Royce what we’d learned, and grab a couple of officers so they could go with us to make the arrest. Their squad cars were equipped with dividers between the front and back seats and didn’t have interior door handles in the back. The cruisers weren’t set up that way.

Chapter 48

Marty pinned the phone against his ear as he drove. Danny finally answered on the fourth ring.

“Dude, you better make yourself scarce.”

“Now what? And quit talking in code.”

Marty groaned. “Fine. The detectives were at the crime lab for twenty minutes or so then bolted out the door. They’re heading to the police station as we speak.”

“Damn it. What are they up to?”

“I don’t know since I’m not a mind reader, but I’d venture to say that it has something to do with you.”

Cursing sounded in Marty’s ear. “I’m leaving the office now, and thanks for the heads-up.”

“No problem, compadre. I’ll be waiting in the wings if you need anything.”

After ending the call, Marty watched as the detectives and a squad car with lights and sirens engaged squealed out of the precinct’s parking lot. They were heading in the direction of Danny’s office.

Hmm… I wonder where Danny will go. His home would be the second place they’d look unless a team of officers are heading there now. Or?

Marty continued to follow the detectives but stayed a safe four car lengths behind them. Luckily, he made it through every light the cruiser and squad car blew through before it turned red.

Minutes later, the cruiser screeched to a stop in front of Danny’s business. The detectives must have noticed his SUV wasn’t there any longer, but Cannon leapt out anyway and ran to the front door. He yanked on the handle several times, peeked in through the window, then ran back to the cruiser. He jumped in, and they took off.

After shifting into Drive, Marty continued to follow them, that time to Danny’s house. He parked a half-dozen houses away but still with a clear view of the home’s entrance. Marty watched as the detectives went to the front door, and the officers disappeared around the back. If Danny was home, it would be tough for them to know. The overhead garage door was lowered, and the garage didn’t have windows.

The cops can break in if they have probable cause.

Marty wondered what that could be. He knew they hadn’t found any drugs in Danny’s home, office, or in the carts and booths.

What else could they have on him?

A few minutes later, one of the officers ran to his squad car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a ram. He rushed to the front door, ram in hand.

Damn, if only I had a bag of popcorn right now. What the hell is going on?

The officer hit the front door. It crashed inward, then the four of them entered the house.

Marty sat back in the seat and waited. It would take a while for them to clear the large home unless they found Danny inside right away.

Movement at the entrance came twenty minutes into Marty’s wait. The detectives and officers were coming out.

Now what? The idiot cops will never figure out where Danny went or where he might go. I’ll have to give Cannon a heads-up to get this case moving along. First, I have to see if Danny went where I think he did.

Marty drove away with a destination in mind. He would have to be careful to avoid being seen since Danny was well aware of the vehicle Marty was driving. He needed to remain invisible.

Ten minutes went by before Marty arrived at the location he was certain Danny had gone to, yet he frowned when he realized he was wrong. Danny’s SUV wasn’t there. Marty drove around the block in case Danny hadn’t wanted his SUV to be seen, but it wasn’t anywhere in the area.

Hmm, now I have no idea where he went. I wonder if he skipped town. If he did, it’s going to be worse for him when he’s found.

Then Marty remembered Danny’s comment about opening his new enterprise in other cities.

Maybe he planned something. Maybe he’s waiting at my house for me to come home so he can take his stash with him. Maybe he’ll kill me, too, and disappear so I can’t rat him out.

Worry filled Marty’s mind. Going home wasn’t an option, at least not yet. He had to find Danny then make the most convincing call of his life.

He drove the historic area then checked every parking lot along the tour sites but saw nothing. Marty drove past all of Danny’s favorite haunts but to no avail.

Maybe he went to his old man’s mansion, but the cops would check that place too. I might as well drive by anyway.

Continuing on, Marty drove to the opulent home owned by the imprisoned Jimmy Hines. He cautiously drove past and looked for Danny’s SUV beyond the iron gates.

Damn it. I don’t see it, but he could have put it in the garage. There is an empty stall where the truck was.

Feeling defeated, Marty aimed the truck toward the historic district. He would give the area one more pass before deciding whether to go home.

As Marty drove north on Drayton, he caught a glimpse of Danny’s SUV heading west on Bay Street. “There he is! I’ve got to see where he’s going.”

Marty sped up then turned left on East Bay Street. He followed from a distance, and once the street turned into West Bay Street, Marty knew exactly where Danny was headed. Danny’s brake lights flashed, then he pulled to the curb and parked. Marty slid into an open spot a hundred yards back, killed the engine, and watched from the truck to see what Danny was going to do. He glanced through the rearview mirror to make sure no police cars or cruisers were watching from a distance as well. Everything looked okay.

Minutes passed. Danny finally appeared, so Marty slid down into the seat until only his eyes were visible. He watched as Danny looked both ways before crossing the street. Danny milled around near the main door of Katie’s apartment building. Ten minutes later, a couple walked out. Danny grabbed the door before it closed, and he disappeared inside.

Marty checked the time. He planned to give Danny five minutes before calling Cannon. After that, he would go home. Whether he killed Katie or not, Danny wasn’t Marty’s problem. Marty had more important things on his mind, like just living through the night. If Danny was behind bars, Marty’s chances of that happening were much higher.

It was time to make the call. Marty cleared his throat then pressed Cannon’s number on the burner phone. It took only a second for the detective to answer.

“Marty, I don’t have time to—”

“To what?”

“To talk right now. We’re trying to track down Danny but haven’t had any luck yet. We finally have what we need to make an arrest.”

“So you found Rohypnol?”

“No. It’s something else, but what do you need?”

“Nothing, really, but now that you mentioned Danny, I just saw him drive by.”

“You did! Where is he? Where did you see him?”

“He pulled over on West Bay Street just past Montgomery.”

“Shit! He’s at Katie’s apartment. I’ve got to go!”

The call had gone exactly the way Marty wanted it to. He made a U-turn in the street and headed home.

Chapter 49

Danny tiptoed down the hallway toward Katie’s apartment. The complex looked cheap, and the walls were probably hollow. He didn’t want to give away the fact that he was closing in on her door. As he passed the apartments, he noticed that none of them had peepholes—a good thing.

He had to decide how to approach.

Should I knock and tell her who I am, kick in the door and take her by surprise, or say I’m a delivery person and have a package for her?

Anyone with half a brain would ask why he hadn’t rung the buzzer. A smart woman would have refused to let that person in even if he claimed to be a deliveryman. Before opening the outer door, she would go to the entrance and look out through the locked glass vestibule to see whether he wore a uniform and had a package.

I’m going to try it anyway. Maybe she’s naive. If I kick in the door, it’ll make too much noise. If I say it’s Danny, she’ll never let me in. I’d still end up kicking in the door. Doubt that she’ll recognize my voice since we only talked on Sunday. Danny chuckled. And at Woody’s, she didn’t remember talking to me at all.

Danny recalled Katie saying she was from Detroit and had lived with her parents. He would tell her he had a package from Detroit for Katherine Woods.

The bitch will buy that line. I’m sure of it.

He put his ear against the door and listened. He heard what was likely the TV playing inside.

Sounds like she’s home.

Danny sucked in a deep breath then gave the door a couple of raps. Footsteps sounded as Katie approached the door. He waited silently.

“Who’s there?”

“USPS, ma’am. I have a delivery from Detroit for Katherine Woods.”

“Just leave it at the door, please, and thanks.”

“Sorry, but it needs a signature.”

“Um, why didn’t you buzz me?”

“Aw, heck, an older lady was walking out, and I’m kind of in a hurry, so I just came in. I have to admit I’m new and running behind.”

“Oh. I guess it’s okay.”

Danny stared at the doorknob as Katie turned it. He was ready to pounce. He would take her by surprise, knock her down, and close the door at his back. He needed to act fast so she wouldn’t have the opportunity to scream.

The door opened just enough for him to push through before she had a chance to see his face. Katie stumbled, bumped into the coffee table, and fell backward. The table’s legs buckled, broke, and sent her to the floor.

Within seconds, the door was closed, the dead bolt turned, and Danny was on top of her. He pressed his hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Katie kicked and clawed, but Danny held her arms down with his knees.

He snarled as he glared at her. “Today you die, Katie, just like Leslie did. She found out about my business and was going to tell the cops everything. I got lucky Sunday night and saw her walking near the alley. Everything was fine until you came along. Nobody would have connected me to Leslie’s death until you shot off your mouth to those detectives. You’ve said too much, and now they’re after me. You know what happens to people with loose lips?”

Her eyes widened as he squeezed her throat.

Danny leaned in against her ear. “They die.”

In a split second, the door burst open and bounced off the wall. Danny reeled back and spun around. The detectives were at his back with guns pointed at his head.

Cannon’s shouts echoed in the small space. “Get off of her! Stand up and clasp your hands behind your back. I’m only saying it once. Don’t give me a reason to pull this trigger.”

Danny let go of Katie and did as told. Katie sucked in a panicked breath, coughed, and backed against the wall.

Rue went to her aid. “I’ll call an ambulance. We need to make sure you’re okay.”

She nodded a thank-you. “He admitted to killing Leslie!”

“Shut up, you bitch!”

Cannon called the officers over. “Read this piece of shit his rights and get him out of here. I’ll deal with him later. Prison is looking pretty good for you, Hines.”

Danny laughed as he was pushed through the broken door. “My attorney can get me out of anything.”

“Not this time, Hines. We have undisputable evidence, and your goose is finally cooked.”

Rue added his two cents. “And it couldn’t happen to a more deserving jerk.”

Chapter 50

Once Katie had been checked out and released by a doctor, we took her back to the station with us. Her landlady had been notified, a new door was being installed at Katie’s apartment, and we requested one with a peephole and definitely another dead bolt. The precinct would take care of all costs. We were told it would take several hours to make the repairs, then Katie could return home.

With all the problems she’d had since moving to Savannah, I wondered whether she would actually stay or return to her parents and the safety of her family home in Detroit.

That would be a discussion for another time. For the moment, she was seated in our lunchroom, watching TV and eating vending machine snacks.

In the bullpen, while we waited for Danny to be processed into our jail system, I wondered how Marty had known where Katie lived and why he happened to be right there when Danny arrived at her apartment. That was a question I would ask him as soon as he answered his phone. I had tried twice since Danny was taken into custody. I assumed his burner phone was either charging at his home or on vibrate if he was out and about, trying to get more intel for us.

I tipped my chin at Rue. “Did we ever tell Marty where Katie lived?”

“I don’t know why we would have.”

“Then it must have come from Danny. He would know where she lived, especially if he’s the one who trashed her apartment Sunday night. There’s no other way he would have had her address.” I shrugged. “We’ll get that information out of him or Marty sooner or later. What matters in the moment is that Danny is under arrest for murder and attempted murder, along with peddling drugs, robbery, and a million other things.”

Rue wagged his finger at me. “We don’t have anything on him as far as the drugs go. No evidence, no crime. Everything is hearsay.”

I had to agree, but we had him dead to rights as far as Leslie’s murder and Katie’s attempted murder. I had tried to reach the bartender at Carly’s Crib, the one who’d witnessed the argument between Danny and Leslie several weeks ago, but I was told he had moved on to another job in a different city. It didn’t matter in the long run since we had enough evidence to put Danny away for life.

A call came in from our downstairs jail. Danny had been processed, his mug shot was in the criminal database, and his prints were in the system. The jailer would put him in any interrogation room we requested.

“Put him in number one,” I said, “and thanks. Rue and I will be right down.”

I made a quick stop by the lunchroom to make sure Katie was okay. She said she was, and I told her we were about to interrogate Danny.

“Detective Cannon, he really did admit to killing Leslie. I’m sure he didn’t care that he told me since he was planning to end my life anyway. I can’t thank you and Detective Rue enough for everything you’ve done for me.” She looked at her folded hands. “Especially saving my life.”

I smiled then chuckled to lighten the moment. “All in a day’s work.”

She grinned. “You guys are so tough. I wish I was a cop.”

I nodded. “You would make a good cop, Katie. Give it some thought, go to the academy, and start a real career. It’s a job you can be proud of if that’s really what you want.” I squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll be back upstairs within an hour.”

She thanked me again then returned her focus to the crime series she was watching on TV.

Chapter 51

Rue and I took seats across the table from Danny. The interview was already set to record, and I couldn’t wait until he unintentionally incriminated himself while he waited for his ambulance-chasing attorney. Danny couldn’t help but talk. That was a fact, and Katie had just confirmed to us that he’d admitted killing Leslie. Regardless, he had no defense. We had the gloves with Leslie’s blood on them, and they’d been found in his jacket.

I began by asking Danny how he knew where Katie lived if he’d never been there before. We were sure it was Danny who’d upended the furniture Sunday night, but Katie’s memory of that failed her.

“You’ve never asked me if I’ve been there before. Maybe she invited me over Sunday night. She was sure happy to see me at Woody’s.”

I huffed. “Katie doesn’t have any memory of you there or at her apartment. So you’re saying you have been there before?”

“No. Don’t put words into my mouth.” Danny grinned. “I’m killing time and trying to rile you up until my lawyer arrives. Nothing more. He’ll have me out of here in under an hour.”

Rue laughed. “You aren’t going anywhere. You killed Leslie—you just told Katie you did— plus we have evidence.”

“What evidence?”

I ignored his question. “So how many people have you or your boys injected with Rohypnol to steal money, credit cards, house keys, and vehicles from?”

“Wow, you think you have it all figured out. If that was the case, then where are the drugs you’ve confiscated?”

I ignored his second question that was meant to get under my skin. “So, once again, how did you know where Katie lived?”

Just then, Danny’s attorney, Clarence Williams, walked in.

Danny snarled. “It’s about time, Clarence.”

“It’s not like I live next door, Danny. It took a while to get here. I hope you’ve sat quietly while waiting for me.”

I laughed.

Clarence shot me a glare then looked at Danny. “From now on, I’ll do the talking.” He sat in the chair next to Danny then addressed Rue and me. “What are the charges against my client?”

“Capital murder, attempted murder, robbery, and dispensing Rohypnol from his tour booths to unsuspecting customers via water bottles.”

“Where’s the evidence for that?”

Rue took over. “We’re looking for his stash house, and we know it exists.”

Williams laughed. “Okay, so murder?”

“Absolutely, in the first degree.”

“Your proof?”

I responded. “A pair of gloves we found jammed into his jacket pocket in his office.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

I leaned across the table. “I wasn’t done talking. Those gloves were stained with the victim’s blood.” I gave Danny a stare. His face had gone white. “You’re looking pretty pale, Danny. Any reason for that?”

Clarence slapped the table. “Talk to me, not my client.”

“We’re done talking to both of you unless he owns up to the Rohypnol business going on in Savannah and the location of the drugs. There aren’t any other deals on the table. He’ll be locked up for life otherwise.”

“Give us a few minutes alone.” Clarence pointed at the camera. “I want all of that shit turned off too.”

Rue and I walked out. After stepping into the observation room, I turned off the audio and video feed, then we waited in the hallway.

Clarence came out to discuss Danny’s decision.

“I need to see the Forensic results on the blood comparison before we go any further.”

I opened the folder I’d brought with me and handed him the hard copy that Billy printed out.

Clarence frowned as he studied it. “It would be easy enough to claim the gloves and jacket belonged to somebody else and were left behind at the tour company.”

“It would be except the DNA on both match Danny’s DNA that we have on file. Plus, we can call his secretary and ask her whose jacket it is. She’s at the office every day and would know those things.”

“Hmm. Guess you have a point. Danny wants to know how you found him. How you knew where he was at that exact moment.”

I frowned. “Why does he care about that? We’re detectives doing our job.”

“He tells me he’s never been to that young lady’s apartment, and I believe him. That means somebody told him where she lives. That also means if you never shared that information with anyone, then somebody followed you there.”

“But—”

Rue squeezed his temples. “Shit, Cannon. I think you know who was playing both sides of the law.”

“You have a CI working this case?”

“Apparently, that jackass wasn’t as confidential as we thought. No wonder he isn’t answering his phone.”

“Well, we have a lot of back-and-forth negotiations to work on. Danny is confident that it was the CI who ratted out him and you boys. He’s willing to give up more about the drugs for a reduced sentence.”

“Only if we find the drugs and get the names of the people who were distributing them.”

Clarence laughed. “Is the name of your CI Marty Dalton?”

I pulled back. “Yeah.”

“Well, according to Danny, Marty has everything you’re looking for at his house.”

“So, that son of a bitch did play all of us.” I shook my head. “He’s going away for an extra ten years because of this.” I turned to Rue. “Call Royce, explain the situation, and tell him we need a half-dozen units en route to Marty’s house right now.”

Chapter 52

Marty had been busy. Everything Danny had brought to his home during the last week had been boxed and put into the back of the truck along with both totes. Inside the totes were personal things important to Marty.

Luckily, the truck belonging to Jimmy Hines had a cap on it. That made securing the contents within the bed of the truck very easy.

Hours later, Marty was deep into South Carolina. He had left Savannah right after making sure Danny had gone to Katie’s apartment. All he had to do then was call Detective Cannon and squeal Danny out.

It would be hours, maybe even days, before anyone realized Marty had headed to greener pastures with Danny’s drugs, documents, and computer. He would start fresh somewhere else and run the same scam that had made Danny a lot of money. He planned to work on new unsuspecting victims and eventually hire helpers. He would buy a new identity and reinvent himself.

No more threats of prison for me. I won’t be bossed around by cops or criminals. I’ll run my own show and rake in the money once I’m settled in a different tourist hotspot.

Marty had pulled the license plates off a truck similar to his once he passed into South Carolina. The original plates had been dropped into a dumpster at a roadside truck stop.

Over the last few days, Marty had thought of everything. He gleaned as much information as he could by chumming up to Danny. He’d learned from the best, and Danny had learned from his own dad. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the shady family tree.

I gave Danny fair warning that everything I was doing was to benefit me and in my own best interest. Whether he believed me or not isn’t my problem.

Marty laughed.

Yep, I still would have liked to be a fly buzzing around Danny and the detectives the moment they realized they’d both been had.

Chapter 53

Days had passed, and Marty was still MIA. Danny had stopped talking once he realized that we hadn’t found Marty or anything incriminating at Marty’s house. Danny had nothing to bargain with.

We had no drugs, no co-conspirators, and no idea where Marty had gone or how he was moving from one place to another without a vehicle of his own.

All was not lost, though. We had Danny on murder and attempted murder. We couldn’t charge him with drug peddling or robbery since we had nothing to pin on him or anyone else. We hadn’t found any physical evidence to charge him with. Nobody who had been targeted and robbed remembered faces.

Danny’s scam was genius. Yet if Marty really had the drugs stashed at his house, he was even more of a genius. All of that could have been made up by Danny, though, and we might never know the truth.

I wondered if we would ever find Marty. A statewide APB had gone out on him, but without a vehicle or a person to tie him to, finding him would be difficult.

Rue and I sat at Brick Alley Pizza and Pub, waiting for Katie to join us. We had news to share with her, and she’d said she had news to share with us too.

I glanced over at the bar and remembered the last time Rue and I had been in there a little over a week earlier. Danny Hines had sat at the end of the bar, looking like the smug jerk he was. My disdain for him was high then but even higher now. I smiled as I thought about him. He was exactly where he belonged—just like his old man.

I tipped my head toward the door when I saw Katie pull it open.

I chuckled. “Does she ever not grin when she sees us?”

Rue waved at her, and she headed our way. “What’s not to grin about? We’re pretty cool detectives if I say so myself.”

“Hey, Detectives!”

“Hi, Katie. Have a seat.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “You look like the cat who swallowed the canary. What’s up?”

“Can we order before I start? I might get longwinded, and I’d rather have our order in.”

“Smart thinking,” Rue said. “You pick the pizza. Just make sure it’s an extra-large one.”

Katie ordered but asked us about the toppings first. She wanted to make sure we all agreed.

After the server walked away, Katie began. “First, I wanted to tell you both that I met with Leslie’s mom.”

I nodded. “She wanted to know everything, and we told her that you were instrumental in putting Leslie’s killer behind bars.”

Katie smiled. “Even though Leslie and her mom were supposedly estranged, Mrs. Connor seemed really sweet and appreciative.” She sighed. “I suppose some of that is guilt for time wasted when she and Leslie could have been close.”

“That’s probably true,” Rue said.

“I’ve also come to the realization that the way my apartment looked could very well have been from me tripping and falling over furniture. But I do believe Danny Hines got in a few good punches before I was able to run away. I’m sure my knee scrapes could have also been from me stumbling as I was trying to get home.”

I had to agree. “But if you hadn’t had the wherewithal to take the bus to the police station and report your physical condition and the way your apartment looked, Leslie’s killer might never have been caught.”

“Thank God, right?”

“Absolutely, and you’ll never have to worry about Danny Hines again. He’ll likely do life in prison.”

“That’s good, and it’s where he belongs.” Katie suddenly went quiet and stared at her hands.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

She looked up at Rue and me. “I’ll just miss you both so much.”

I sighed. “So you’ve decided to go back to Detroit? Savannah didn’t turn out like you had hoped? We understand, and nobody could hold that against you, Katie.”

She gave us that Katie Woods grin again. “No, silly, I’ve decided to go to the police academy! It’s all because of you two and a little nudging from you, Detective Cannon. I’m so excited!”

I laughed. “And then what?”

“And then join the Savannah PD. That’s if there are any openings when I graduate. Don’t think a lowlife like Danny Hines is going to scare me away from this beautiful city.”

Rue and I congratulated her with high fives.

“That’s our girl, and I know you’ll do Savannah proud,” Rue said.

The server carried a gigantic pizza our way and centered it on the table. “Anything else I can get you folks?”

“Yep,” I said. “We’re celebrating. How about three beers and three icy glasses? Leave the caps on the bottles too. I’ll crack them open myself.”

THE END

Thank you!

Thanks for reading Scream for Your Life, Book Six in the Detective Mitch Cannon Savannah Heat Thriller Series. I hope you enjoyed it!

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