“I already told your friends that I don’t know her. And I don’t want to see her picture again; the damned thing’s been giving me nightmares.”
“We have a cleaner version, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to look at it.” Lizzy walked up to the counter and took out the photo.
The woman backed away, giving her a hard stare. “I’ll look. But I better not see those stab wounds again.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the image of the tattoo. Suddenly, she put her hand to her mouth and then pushed the picture toward Lizzy.
The girl’s already pallid complexion turned even whiter. “I can tell you exactly who did this tattoo.” She held her arm across her stomach as if she might be sick.
“Is it someone you know?” Lizzy asked.
“I know him, but not well. His name is Victor Barnes. He owns Victory tattoos downtown.”
Darek and Lizzy exchanged a look, and he leaned in across the counter and pointed to the picture. “You can tell that by looking at this tattoo? This is a heavy allegation. Are you absolutely positive?”
The woman took a minute to regain her composure and then pointed to the image. “See this?”
Darek looked at the picture and saw the place on the tattoo she’d indicated. “Is that a mistake?” he asked. There was a small, V-shaped mark close to the outline of the wheel. It was so small that it almost looked like a mistake.
“No, it’s a signature. An artist’s trademark, if you will. V as in Victor.”
“I’ve never heard of an artist signing their work before.” Lizzy looked as puzzled as Darek felt.
“Yeah, I’ve never heard of that, either,” he said. “Is that done often?”
The woman shook her head. “No, it’s not. Most artists frown on it. We take pride in our work, but we also consider we’re marking someone’s body. It’s not about our ego. Our work speaks for itself. But Victor, he’s a little bit of an egomaniac. He’s also got some other hobbies that are questionable. You’ll have to talk to him. He’s a freak.”
“A freak?” Lizzy asked. “As in a creepy guy? A pervert?”
“Deviant. He’s what some could call controlling.”
“You don’t mind if I get your name?” Lizzy took out a pen.
“Yolanda Peters. People call me Pinkie. But I don’t want people knowing I ratted this guy out.”
“Don’t worry, Pinkie,” Darek said. “Your secret is safe with us. Besides, it could have been anyone.” Darek took out the other photos, and sure enough, the mark hadn’t been visible with all the blood. The small V would have been easily recognizable otherwise.
Lizzy took out her list and pointed to the man’s name and address. “I’ve got him. Looks like the others went by. The note says the owner wasn’t in.” She looked back up at Pinkie. “When you say deviant, you mean sexual deviant, right?”
She let out a nervous laugh. “Trust me, lady. You’ll see when you get there. Be sure to go all the way into the shop. The back room is a sight you gotta see. I went once with a friend when he first opened. I’d heard some things. Was curious, maybe nosey is a better word, but let me tell you. We ain't been back.”
Lizzy thanked Pinkie, and she and Darek were on their way.
Lizzy practically bounced in her seat. “This is it, I can feel it. Our first big crack in the case. The guy was there; he’s either the killer or had something to do with it.”
Darek noticed the way she gripped the wheel with determination. Her smile spread her cheeks so wide, it made his own face hurt.
“I can’t wait to see this guy’s shop,” Darek said. “I’m betting on a much darker décor and maybe some whips and chains.”
“You think so?” she asked. “I was thinking tacky art; maybe a few nudes?” She gave a little laugh that told him she was fucking with him.
“We’ll see. We might both be wrong.”
“I’m guessing it’s bad,” Lizzy said. “Yolanda looked like she’d seen a thing or two in her life. If she was so offended that she didn’t return, it’s because there’s some kinky shit going on.”
“You’re obsessed with kinky shit.” Darek would never get enough of teasing her about that.
“You’ve never tried anything kinky? I don’t believe that. You totally seem like the finger up the butt type of guy.”
Darek nearly choked on his laugh. “I’ve done a little anal. My wife’s not opposed.”
“No, I meant up your butt.” Her face was red as she laughed, but he shook his head.
Darek didn’t deny anything, but he was rendered speechless.
“Come on, you’ve never tried anything slightly kinky?” she asked.
“Like what? No, wait. We better not go here. Talking to Max about my sex life is one thing. Talking to you about it is another.”
“Fine. Maybe you’re right.” She gave a little shrug and laughed now and then throughout their trip downtown.
He wondered what was going on in that mind of hers and knew he damned well better leave it alone.
13
Darek
Victory tattoos was a much nicer shop than most they’d been to. The place had a sterile feel out front. The walls weren’t weighed down with lots of tattoo designs, and cheap incense didn’t hang thick in the air. Instead, the front was set up like a waiting room, and any artwork was displayed in a sleek black frame which hung in groupings around the room. The sign on the wall above the register said Victory in bold letters, and a painted was curled beneath it to read Inks and Kinks. There were photo albums on a large rack and a small cluster of chairs under a sign that said consultations.
Darek felt a nudge and looked up to see an archway that led to a different section. Instead of heading right in, they walked up to the counter and rang the bell.
A younger guy came out and flipped his hair as he approached the counter. He was waifish and thin and wore a spiked collar and black skinny jeans. “How can I help you today?” His voice was soft and effeminate.
“We’re looking for Victor Barnes,” Darek said. “Is he in?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
Darek shrugged. “No. Do I need one to say hello?”
“Well, it’s just that he’s not here. Are you getting some ink? We have lots of hot new designs for couples. Perhaps you’d like me to show you around. You might find something you want in the next room.” The guy looked around Lizzy and smiled at Darek. “We have a great collection of toys.”
“Sure.” Lizzy turned and reached out for Darek’s hand before he could open his mouth. “Let’s go see.”
Darek took her hand and played along. Walking into the other room was like stepping into a different realm. The air even felt a little thicker, and the place was crowded with mannequins dressed in black studded leather and rubber gimp suits, displays of every kind of sex toy imaginable, and more importantly, a counter with custom-made collars and even some leashes and other monogrammed pieces of clothing. Darek’s eyes went to one that read in bold letters, “MEAT.” Another beside it read, “SLUT.”
“If you see anything you like, I’ll be so pleased to help you.” The young man glanced over his shoulder and then back to Darek.