Page 69 of Sinful Promise
“Randy?” I set the call on speaker and hold the phone for us all. “What’ve you got?”
“Let’s start with Fentone,” he starts immediately.Of fucking course.“We’ve torn his laptop apart—metaphorically, of course—and found a cache of insanity that promises, had he lived another day, he was going to take another out.”
“A little girl?” Minka sits forward and rests her elbows on her desk. “He had a target? Or a general hunger for anyone at all?”
“Specific target. No name, no address, no pertinent details logged on his computer that we found. But there are pictures. So many bleeping pictures, Detectives, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Have you found the girl?” Fletch demands. “Ensured her safety?”
“Not yet. I figured that would beyournext step, seeing as how I ride a desk. But I’ll send you a couple of shots so you can work on identifying her.”
Taking a long, heady breath, the bubbliness in his tone makes way for weariness. The same kind we carry every day to these jobs. “She’s sweet as pie, guys. Can’t be more than four or five. He knew her route each day. He knew what parks she visits, and what diner she eats in. He knew way too much.”
“And now he’s dead,” Minka sneers. “We’ll find the girl and ensure she’s safe. Then we go on knowing he’s been put down and won’t touch another ever again.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, she glances up to the back of Fletch’s head and waits for him to turn. “I know you’re working to solve his case, Fletch. I know you’re on Fentone’s side in this, but I stand by my initial response of passing on his case.”
“Conflict of interest,” he sighs. “You’re not sad he’s dead.”
She shakes her head. Slow and solemn. “Not even a little bit. The law says he’s entitled to a thorough and fair investigation. But I’m thrilled he’s dead, which means I wasn’t the right M.E. for you.”
Contemplative, he glances down and studies his hands. But he nods. “Your honesty is brave, Delicious. It takes guts to say that when a dude has been murdered and his killer is still out there.”
“That’s me.” Mock-snickering, she sits back and meets my eyes. “Brave enough to say what others won’t.” Then she looks down at my phone. “Is that everything?”
“I’m sending images through now of the kid. His emails indicate he was coming for her the day after his release.”
“As in the day after his death?” Aubree inserts. “The vigilante stopped him just in time.”
An excited gasp ricochets from Randy’s throat to fill Minka’s office. “You guys believe the vigilante stuff, too? We were talking about it here just the other day! Some of my colleagues are saying the vigilante is just a moniker given to any killer who offs someone the public doesn’t like. Like an umbrella label given to a bunch of different people.”
“Randy, st—”
“My lieutenant reckons the vigilante is one specific person, walking the streets at night and picking the jerks off one at a time.”
“Randy!”
“My captain thinks we should shut our traps and get back to work,” he chuckles. “So although we listen to the third, there’s an office bet on which of the first two is actually going on. You’re the investigating detectives,” he yammers. Yammers.Yammers. “And this isn’t your first vigilante case, so which is it? Nightwalker? Or umbrella?”
I meet Minka’s hard stare and grit my teeth. Because while I’m over here, tempted to take a Xanax and hope people will stop saying that word—vigilante—she’s cool as a fuckin’ cucumber.
It’s like she thinks she’s immune to the consequences of her actions if we’re caught.
“I’m inclined to agree with your captain,” I answer through tight lips, while in my hand, my phone vibrates with incoming pictures. “We’re not discussing it. What have you got on Patterson?”
“He wassooooohaving an affair,” Randy giggles. “Like, if he was getting divorced and in the middle of court proceedings, the wife would have all the proof she needs to toss him on his ass and take him for everything he’s got.”
“Specifics,” I grunt. “Not opinion. Please?”
“Oh wow!” Behind me, Aubree cackles. “Pretty sure I’ve heard Minka say those exact words. Like attracts like, I suppose.”
I don’t even turn to look at her. I just purse my lips and study my phone. “Randy?”
“He’s been seeing this chick for a year at least. They communicate via email only. I haven’t found any texts yet. They use nicknames, so I don’t know who the woman is. But she’s known as Molly Jensen.”
“Molly Jensen?” Minka sits back at her desk and steeples her fingers in thought. “Is that not… ya know… a name?”
“Sure,” Aubree laughs. “But it’s been used already. Molly Jensen is the main female character in that movieGhost. Ya know, the one with Patrick Swayze?”
