“Yes.”
“Which require a key to get in.”
“Yes.” He frowned. “She always requested two keys.”
“So she was expecting someone?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head as if willing the carnage away. “I don’t know.”
Deke pressed. “And you do have cameras on the side doors?”
“Yes. But the one on the back entrance is not working.”
“Where does that entrance lead?”
“Parking lot.”
A good entrance for someone who didn’t want to be seen. It would be a simple matter for Rebecca to slip out the back door and leave a key for her intended. “What name did she use when she registered?”
“Rebecca Saunders.”
That matched the name in her wallet. “Did she ever say anything to you or your front desk person to make you think twice?”
“No. She was always polite and always nice.” He frowned. “She was pretty and the men liked it when she came. Looked forward to her weekly visits.”
“She always came on Sundays?”
“Yesterday was Monday.”
“She’s never stayed here on a Monday.”
Her pattern had changed. And she’d been murdered. Dixie’s routine had changed the night she died. She had been a last-minute show at Rudy’s. She’d received a text telling her she had a spot if she wanted it. Rudy had not been expecting her but he’d let her sing.
“Can you print out a list of all the days she was here?”
The manager picked up a printout. “I thought you might ask that question. I already did it.”
Deke took the page and scanned the dates. “Pull all of the security footage from the side doors the nights she was here. Might get lucky and see who was visiting her.”
“Sure. Sure.”
Three dead women and one who narrowly escaped an attack. Time to talk to Rachel Wainwright again.
Rachel had been on the phone with the medical examiner’s office again trying to get the release date of Lexis Hanover’s body. The medical examiner had spoken to her directly and explained patiently that she still needed to keep the body longer as the investigation was still open, but promised to call as soon as it was released. Rachel had wanted to argue, pester, generally be herself, but held her tongue.
Rachel rose, and stretched out her shoulder, still stiff and discolored. Days after the attack the bruise had deepened to a dark purple and stretched over the back of her shoulder across her arm.
The front bell rang. She rose and crossed to the front door, taking time to look through the peephole. The man on the other side of the door faced away but she recognized him instantly. The dark hair and the broad shoulders gave him away. Deke Morgan.
Tension melted. She opened the door. “Detective.”
He turned and when his gaze landed on her he studied her as if peeling back the layers. He frowned when he saw the dark purple bruise. “Counselor.”
“Don’t tell me the DNA has come in?” The question travelled as easily as her.
“You only know how to play one note, don’t you?”
“I never said that I was far thinking or original.” She cocked her head. “I take it that the answer is no.”
“It’s a not yet. May I come in?”
“Sure.” She stepped aside and allowed him to cross the threshold. As he passed, an unyielding, focused, and forceful energy radiated around him. When his sights zeroed in on a target he couldn’t be stopped. She closed the door. “What can I do for you?”
He glanced around her office, studying the disarray of papers and files on and around her desk. “You had any trouble in the last couple of days? Any other strange people?” His tone might be conversational but he wasn’t a man who stopped to chat.
“All is quiet.”
“And McMillian?”
“He’s keeping his distance.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Did you come all this way to check up on me?” And then unable to resist a sarcastic twist, she added, “Because if you did, I’m really touched.”
Lips curled into a little used smile. “Don’t be.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “No DNA. Could it be about the letters?”
“I’ll know more on those tomorrow.”
All hints of teasing evaporated. “You’ve had them analyzed.”
“I have.”
“And?”
“As I said, I will know more tomorrow.”
“No information on DNA or the letters.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I give up. Give me a clue. Why are you here?”
For a beat a heavy silence stood between them. “We have another body.”
Darkness rose up from the earth and wrapped around her like a shroud. “Who?”
“A woman named Rebecca Saunders. She was beaten to death at the West Hotel.”
“Beaten like Lexis?”
“Not like Lexis. Like Dixie Simmons.”
“That singer.”
“Yes.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You survived an attack.”
“We aren’t certain it’s the same person. It could have been a mugger.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. The first and third victims were beaten strictly on the head and the face. Lexis, well she wasn’t killed right away.”
The shroud tightened. She was grateful to have received the tape and CDs this morning. “This all ties into the letters. I had them. Lexis had them. And now they are gone.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Why would anyone care about the letters? If they are real they are over thirty years old and from what I could tell they were written by a talented, if not volatile, woman who didn’t identify her lover.”
“You’ve pried open a can of worms and someone is not happy.”
“Dixie Simmons was killed before my press conference.”
“But whoever attacked her, came after you and killed Lexis. You all are connected to Annie, either in appearance or association.”
“Annie’s cause of death was never determined.”
“The skull was never found. The bones found did have unhealed fractures, but none of those injuries were deemed fatal. And a tire iron similar to the one found in Jeb’s truck was used in the recent killings.”
Frowning, she saw his logic. “So what do you want me to do?”
“It’s time we compared notes.”
She thought about the Annie tapes. Don’t open your mouth, Rachel. He’s a cop. The enemy! “Really?”
“You held back the letters. Anything else you’ve held back?”
“If you haven’t noticed, we are on the opposite side of the Jeb Jones case.”
“There is a killer out there now.” A steady tone did not dull the meaning’s razor sharpness. “I’d like to think we are on the same side in that case.”
“And if the two cases are connected?” She shook her head. “I owe it to Jeb not to play all my cards.” Lexis understands.