Page 15 of Blood and Sand

“So, I would say the asphyxiation aspect of the murder is more about control than the bindings. The ability to control whether someone can breathe is the ultimate control. He can squeeze to cut off her breaths and release to make sure she gets air, so she doesn’t die,” she said, mimicking the actions with her hands. “The ability to control whether death comes or not. But, like I said, I would need more evidence to tie the bindings to this killer’s possible motive.”

“No evidence was found other than the bindings. No semen, fingerprints, and not so much as a strand of fucking hair. We do know that the victims did have sex, but there were no signs pointing to forced penetration. We can’t tie the sexual intercourse to the murderer.”

“Well, we can speculate you have your possible trigger, which is a divorce, job loss, or both. And you definitely have your signature, which is the binding. He’s more than likely into the BDSM scene and women who are into rope play. I don’t know how prevalent the scene is down in the parish, but it’s possible he found his victims online, or wherever these ladies disappeared from, there could be a club. If that’s the case, it would be an exclusive site or club. Individuals with this type of money like to keep their kinks secret or separated from their everyday lives and families. Rope play is a part of the scene, but using Kinbaku...he’s had some training in the art. It’s obvious with how good his binding technique is. See here.”

She pointed to how the ropes were tightly wrapped around one woman’s wrist and how it then wrapped around her body in a complex pattern. “He’s been trained by a rope master,” she continued. “The bindings and patterns are too well done and very intricate for a beginner. He may be a rope master himself.”

“How do you know so much about this shit?” I asked, genuinely interested in how she learned so much about BDSM. We’d had some wild nights. Nights where I’d tie her up and blindfold her before fucking the shit out of her, but never something as crazy as what she was explaining now. “I know we had our times, but nothing like this.”

She stared at me, her cheeks turning a vivid crimson. “Actually, when I was in graduate school, I studied the psychological effects on prisoners of war who were restrained usingHojojutsufor a class project, which is the foundation of Kinbaku. Since it was connected, we also researched BDSM and rope play. How participants gain pleasure from pain.”

“I need you to come home with me and help with this,” I blurted out.

She groaned and sat back in the couch. “Rey, this is my vacation. I’ve worked so many cases this year, I need a break.”

“DeeDee, there’s no way I can do this without you. This guy is smart. He’s dumping the bodies in the same bayou, and the women aren’t even from the area. They’re all from different towns more than fifty miles away.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What bayou?”

“Laurels.”

“The one you used to take me to?”

“Yep. The one and only. I think that was the first place I took you fishing, right?”

“Yeah, it was. There’s some significance to this area for him. It could range from him liking its seclusion or he took his wife fishing there, like you did me. Something along those lines. But to use the same dumping ground, he most definitely has a connection to Laurels Bayou. And since none of the victims are from there, why did he choose your parish?”

I shrugged. This was why I needed Dana to come home. These details that took her only an hour to share with me, Amir and I might have never uncovered. If she didn’t agree to help us, we might never catch this guy, and more women and their families would suffer.

“This is what I’m talking about, DeeDee. I would have never thought of anything like the connection to the area or that Kinbaku shit.” I reached for her hand, intertwining our fingers. She didn’t pull away, and my heart soared in my chest. “I really need your help with this, sweetheart.”

“You’re laying it on thick, Detective LaCroix.”

“Is it working?”

“Rey,ifI do this, and that’s a big if, we need to set some boundaries.”

Boundaries? What the fuck does she mean, boundaries?

“I’m coming in as a personal favor to you,” she continued.

“Okay,” I agreed, nodding. “I’m cool with that.”

“Which means, I will not use my FBI credentials for your case in any way since I haven’t been formally brought in by your department. I am your personal consultant.”

“I can agree to all that. So, you’ll come?” I asked impatiently.

She held up her hand. “I’m not finished. I have one more stipulation.”

“Okay. I’m sure it can be done.”

“I’ll be staying at a hotel, not your home.”

I do not agree.

I shook my head.

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