The Blood Dahlia (The Dark Angel Mysteries Book 1) Page 6

“All five families pooled their efforts together into a single reward.”

  “You mean three.”

  The five fingers he held up on his left hand confirmed what he said. After a drag on his cigarette he shared, “The other two families haven’t gone public yet.” His left hand rummaged in his pocket for a few moments before it produced his Scroll and flung it open. A few quick clicks of his thumb and then he shut it and put it back in his pocket. “You have a gift waiting for you at home.”

  Lucas snubbed out his smoke in the ashtray and took another sip from the same Long Island he was nursing when Lynch arrived. He slid out of the booth and threw on his overcoat. A quick flip of the collar before he said, “I got work tomorrow, you invited me, you got this.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he said while he waved him off.

  “Take care. A game next week?”

  “Sure, Lucas.”

  As Lucas walked out, the barkeep delivered the third scotch, no rocks, to the table. Lynch asked him to stay right there as he downed the entire drink in a single swallow. A quick swipe of his thumb across the barkeep’s tablet settled the tab. His business was done there, and even though the music was nice and both of the games up on the displays were competitive, there were too many people around for him to enjoy himself. The empty seat at the booth was an invitation for anyone that recognized him to come sit down and reminisce. Both were events Lynch wanted to avoid.

  11

  “So, you interested in the girls now?”

  The muscles in Lynch’s neck tensed up when the question was lobbed at him as he exited Stiffies and turned for home. The night was clear and cool, not cold, just cool, but cool enough to bite a little at his neck until he flipped up his collar and continued walking.

  “Don’t ignore me like that.”

  Lynch fought against the urge to pick up his pace, but didn’t slow either. At first, he didn’t acknowledge the person following him, but history had told him this would not deter her, not by a long shot. “Isn’t hanging outside a cop bar dressed like that considered a work hazard?” he sniped back.

  He heard the unforgettable sound of high-heeled boots tapping on the concrete as Gina ran after him. Six inches, he thought at first, but then wavered back and forth between five and eight inches because of the pitch of the sound as the heel impacted the concrete. He was shocked she let it hit, that was a sure way of breaking both her shoe and her ankle, at the same time. What he knew for sure is they were leather. He could hear the creak as it folded, and the stickiness as the folds released with each flex of her ankle.

  “6 inches?” he asked.

  “9, but you know I don’t feel good with anything but 12.”

  The smirk on her face was evident in her voice. Lynch didn’t have to look at her to know it was there, even though he could have as she had now caught up even with him. Her over-teased hair dominated his view out of the side of his eyes.

  “I saw Lucas leave,” Gina said.

  “So? It’s not a crime to socialize with your ex-partner.”

  Her hands clapped together and gave Lynch an obnoxious applause. “I am shocked you could say that word without choking on it.”

  “What, partner?”

  “No, socialize. You make a rattlesnake look social. I would know. I tried to fix you.”

  It was true. She’d tried to change him over the many years. What was the saying, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? Well, Lynch was an old dog, and the only one learning new tricks was Gina.

  Gina was a nurse in the emergency department of Metro General. Over the years, Lynch and her had the occasion to become familiar, as did most of the detectives. That is not to say she was doing anything special for them. Being familiar with the staff at the local emergency department was a necessary relationship for any detective. You are in there enough, talking to victims of crimes or, even better, talking to the perp after you tasered him, put a few holes in him, or introduced him to the blunt end of your light. The nurses and doctors were also important allies during investigations; you never know what someone might utter under the influence of pain medicines, or pain itself. Some feel they are about to die and confess to all sorts of things.

  Lucas brought Gina’s flirtatious advances to Lynch’s attention. He was clueless. Her hanging around him at the nurses' station when they brought someone in. The way she leaned into him while he talked. A few random placements of her hand on his shoulder, and laughing at jokes that Lynch never told. All of which never grabbed his attention. That was until Lucas said something.

  The next time in, Lynch tried to return the favor and flirt back. Now, this was something Lynch had never attempted in his entire life. In truth, he never needed to. His six-foot three frame showed up during his junior year in high school. That gave him more than just an advantage over everyone else on the football field, where he dominated as a tight-end. That earned him the attention of the sports writers who rewarded him with all-city and all-state honors. It also earned him the attention of a lot of female admirers, all of which ignored his lack of returned affection.

  Lucas stood on the other side of the nurses' station, watching his partner with a look on his face that resembled someone trying to hold in explosive vomit. His face became as red as his hair until he finally turned away and walked toward the exit. Lynch followed to check on his partner, but found him on his knees on the ground, laughing. He wanted to ask what was so funny, but he knew when Lucas said, “If the future of humanity relied on your ability to get laid and breed, we… are… doomed.”

  His awkwardness didn’t deter Gina, instead, it seemed to make her more interested. This continued for a week or so until she made the first move and asked if he wanted to have drinks one night. He agreed and suggested Stiffies. It was not the most romantic place in town, probably closer to the top of the list for least romantic, but it was the only place he knew, and she didn’t object.

  The familiarity she had with the other detectives made her more at ease at Stiffies than someone else on their first visit to a cop bar. As she walked in, several of them greeted her with a hug and a quick hello. Neither of which Lynch could muster. The blue scrubs were gone, as was the blonde bun on top of her head. It flowed down, around her neck and down her back. There was this stuff on her face he hadn’t seen before; she was wearing makeup, and… jewelry. He was not prepared for this. She looked good. Better than good. Hot.

  He stood up and bumped the table with a bang. The glass of scotch jostled and slid, but didn’t spill. She didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she hid it. Gina ordered a scotch as well, which she nursed slowly during the evening. Her one and a half that night was just a splash in the bucket compared to his five, which may have only reached that total to fill the empty space in the evening. They had nothing to talk about. Well, Lynch had nothing to talk about. She had plenty to talk about. Something Lynch had picked up hanging around the hospital was that the staff liked to gossip, and the hospital was full of it. It resembled a real-life soap opera, and she was giving him the lowdown on everyone. He didn’t mind. Her green eyes had him mesmerized, and the movement of her ruby red lips had him turned on.

  They ended up back at his place, with her sneaking out early the next morning so she could go home and get ready for her shift. A routine that continued for several weeks as a mostly physical, but beneficial, arrangement. It only changed when Lynch arrived through the door on a gurney, instead of walking alongside one with the perpetrator he’d put on it. The force had finally retired actual firearms and moved to the electro-magnetic taser. 1500 volts would put anyone on their ass from hundreds of feet away, they said. No more barbaric and controversial police shootings that hung over the force like a bloody stain. Years of public outcry caused the move by Chief, what Lynch called lily-livered, Lynn. He was not shy about pointing out, what do you expect from a man with a woman’s name?

  They were right about one thing. The voltage was enough to put anyone, no matter the size, on their ass, and lea
ve a nice little burn mark on their skin where the waves hit them. Lynch found the smell of burnt flesh oddly satisfying. Maybe even more so than the smell of freshly ignited gunpowder as it escaped out of a fired barrel. The sound wasn’t, it was silent, but he could deal with that since you could hear the scream of the target for about a second before they hit the ground.

  What they failed to test out or tell anyone, was a bullet was still faster than the taser. It took a second to charge when you pulled the trigger, plenty of time for the little tweaker prick that Lynch had in his crosshairs to squeeze one off before the wave got him. He still screamed, which brought a smile to Lynch’s face, until the burn in his right shoulder told him something was not right. It wasn’t a full hole, but deeper than a graze. He went about his business and handcuffed the asshole, giving him a little kick in the shoulder when others weren’t looking. “We’re even,” he mumbled and then fell to one knee. The bullet removed a good channel of flesh on the side of his shoulder, but shouldn’t be throbbing like this. It was barely bleeding, but still the hole it made was smoking and getting bigger.

  On one knee, he leaned down and propped himself up on his elbow against his bent leg. His other hand fished out his thin radio. He called, “Send medics! The asshole hit me with a laced bullet.” While he knew he wouldn’t die, the growing hole in his shoulder needed to be dealt with.

  When Gina walked in and saw Lynch on the gurney, she lost it. Tears streamed down her face, and she couldn’t move fast enough to help the doctors. She had become an aimless Energizer bunny in nurse scrubs. She never left his side. Even when her shift was over, Gina stayed to help the doctors take care of the damage the acid and bacteria-laced bullet did to his flesh. Everyone was mesmerized at how calm he sat when he should have been in excruciating pain. It was that moment, and the few days after, when Gina helped him home, that it all changed between them.

  For the first time in who knew how long, Lynch felt partially happy. The nagging dark pit in his soul, that kept reminding him he didn’t deserve to be happy, kept him wondering when it would all come crashing down. A single glance at her screen brought the walls down around him. Gina had a second source of income, using a skillset she didn’t go to the university for. She was a call-girl to most of the local politicians and higher-ups on the force.

  There was no denial, fight, or attempt to explain when she was confronted with what he’d found. Instead, she packed up her stuff and walked out more quietly than she had ever walked around his place before. It was this moment, combined with being shot, that led to Lynch leaving the force when his medical leave was done. He gladly handed in his taser and badge. As he walked out he remarked, “It will feel good to carry a real gun again.”

  The connection he and Gina felt for each other was hard to ignore. Something about them, their personalities and, as strange as it seemed, their circumstances linked them in a way they both needed, but they both kept each other at arm's length. They needed each other, but didn’t rely on one another. They cared, but didn’t worry. They existed, but were separate. Like two ships passing each other in the dark, each blowing their horn to the other on each pass, as a tradition, and not a requirement.

  She reached over and patted his chest. Her hand made one pat before he caught her wrist and stopped it. “Okay, not social. Unless you always take that with you on social calls. What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just asking a few questions. That is all.”

  “Find out anything interesting?” Gina asked.

  “Five.”

  “Five what?”

  “There are five girls missing. The first went missing just over a month ago.”

  Gina didn’t act surprised by this news. “Well, that settles it.”

  “Settles what?”

  “They aren’t out here on the streets. If someone was out here for a month, I would know,” the gum she was always chewing smacked with every word.

  Lynch had to hand it to her there. Over the years she had provided him with several good tips and leads. He knew from his time on the force, and from what Gina told him, the only ones that gossip more than people who work at a hospital are call girls. They didn’t talk about their “Johns” or “pimps”, that would be suicide. Instead, they talked about each other, or in particular, the arrival of fresh meat that was out there sniping their regulars. That was something we would consider any one of these girls, due to their age and appearance.

  “You can help me think this through.”

  “So, you are taking the case?” she asked with hopeful anticipation.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Gina grabbed his arm and leaned into him, “I knew it. We are going halfsies.”

  12

  “You can’t tell me you aren’t interested.”

  “Knock it off. Just checking some things out.”

  “Yeah, I see,” Gina said as she stood in front of over twenty screens of information on the missing girls. She walked around the room, reading each screen in detail, before she turned and looked at Lynch. “So, nothing? They just disappeared?”

  “Yep,” Lynch answered. His answer was intentionally short. He trusted Gina, but was tired, and not in the mood for the game of twenty questions she normally played. Nothing she would ask would be a question he would have an answer for. Also, and most frustrating, the game never ended with twenty questions.

  “So where do we start?”

  The question, a verbal starter’s pistol for the game, made him cringe. “I will admit I am stuck. So, no one new has arrived on the street?”

  “No. Like I said, I would know. Now that doesn’t rule out the possibility they were taken to another town. You would need a death wish to put those girls on the street in this town.”

  That was a possibility that Lynch had given more than a brief consideration to. Three of the girls were daughters of high-profile public figures. They wouldn’t last more than a day or two on the streets before they were recognized. The type of heat that would come down on whoever did it would either ensure they were caught or, at worst, out of business for a long time. He had been around long enough to know those in the business weren’t that stupid. Well, most, those that were, weren’t in it for long and were not smart enough to pull this off.

  “Thank you, Totter.” Gina accepted a cup of coffee from Totter.

  Lynch looked over the screens again and then remembered his gift. Two key clicks on the terminal launched another series of screens. This wasn’t just a simple gift. This was Christmas morning. Lucas had provided him the full profiles of the two other girls that were missing, and a treasure trove of information on all five. The two new girls were both college students, like the others.

  “Sylvia Deforno, was, is, nineteen.” Lynch had to correct his brain in how he thought about these girls. Too much of the past results bled in and caused him to think of everyone in the past tense. “She is the daughter of the—”

  “Oh, I know her,” Gina said.

  “Seen her on the street?”

  “No. On the news. Well, the social news. Her daddy is the president and owner of Logistic Semiconductor. She is always attending parties and throwing huge fancy parties at their home. How did she go missing? Autoride?”

  Lynch kept reading through the report, which had her weight and height off her identification. Neither had any real importance to him unless he ran across a body. He read further and then answered, “Yep. Autoride.”

  “Well, it will be a while before I take one of those again.”

  Girl five was actually girl number one. Darlene Tolson had been missing for just a few hours short of six weeks exactly. “What about her?” A gesture sent the image flying across the room to where Gina enjoyed her coffee.

  The response of, “I know her,” caused the most peculiar reactions from both Lynch and Gina. They both turned around and looked at Totter, who was still stationed in the doorway.

  “Wanna explain how my robot butler knows this missing girl?”

&nb
sp; “You don’t?” he said, in what almost sounded like an inquisitive tone.

  “And I quote, Donald Tolson is the biggest sack of monkey shit in the league. Donald Tolson couldn’t find a championship if you shoved it up his ass. Donald Tolson…”

  “Okay, I remember now.”

  “was born without balls. He has no business owning a franchise for a sport that has to play with them. That is one of my favorites.”

  “Are you sassing me? Is that even possible?”

  “I have a lot of surprises,” retorted Totter.

  “Well, surprise me and go make yourself useful somewhere else.”

  “As you wish.” Totter left without a sound.

  “Bad season?” Gina asked.

  “Oh, the Barron’s haven’t been above five hundred in a decade. Even then, it was dumb luck. Injuries all around the league and they managed to stay healthy.”

  “Maybe you are a suspect.”

  “Eh, it’s not worth the trouble,” he said as he returned to the report. “Wanna guess?”

  “Autoride?”

  “Yep.”

  Each incident report was a carbon copy of the others. All daughters of well to do families. Other than that, nothing connected them or their families with each other. Each disappeared after getting into an Autoride. What he was missing was the obvious detail that stood out and defined exactly why the girls were missing, and who had them. It was never that easy except on old re-runs of Perry Mason and Matlock. If it were that obvious, Lucas would already have it. He was a good detective. Better than good. Lynch knew he hadn’t ever really given him his due, but that was not his way, and his partner knew it.

  The remainder of the gift showed him just how good he was. It was a massive data dump. Phone calls, gateway passages, travel logs, and financial records, both personal and business for everyone in the family. It would take him years to go through this. Even then he would undoubtedly miss anything of significance in the landslide of numbers.

  “Totter?”

  “I am being useful someplace else,” he answered from the other room.