“And I stomped all over the scene without permission. You don’t have to apologize. It was my fault, and I deserved the reprimand. Rue would never have let me get away with that.”
I jostled his hand when he continued to stare at the ground. Dominique lifted his gaze, and I had to stop myself from reaching out and cupping his jaw. “Are we okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“No, I… It’s nothing.” He smiled his unique Dominique smile, and my unease settled a fraction.
“I’ve got to get to the office and unpack this mess. I told Rue I would call her with an update. Will you let me know if you make any more discoveries, or do I have to wait for a prelim?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” I wanted to kiss him, take his cold cheeks between my hands and hold him close, but I didn’t, mindful that anyone might see us. The last thing I needed was it getting back to my boss that I was sleeping with one of our forensic specialists. There was probably some sort of rule against that, and I would land in shit. Again.
I squeezed his hand instead, stepping back. “We’ll talk later.” One way or another.
Dominique left, and I headed for my car, head spinning with all we’d discovered.
The bullpen was quiet.Not a single detective seemed to be around on the Boxing Day holiday. I aimed for my desk and turned on the laptop. I wanted to start by unpacking all the notes I’d taken at LeBreton Flats and filling in the blanks, so I had a complete overview of the most recent kill.
Once I’d compiled the information, I would ring Rue and give her an update. I was secretly relieved not to have her lording over me and the case. Although I suspected Golding would check in at some point, since she barely trusted me to write a traffic ticket, let alone run a homicide investigation.
Until that happened, I would examine everything through my own lens and draw my own conclusions.
Another spike through the penis. Another leading note.A cocky manipulator.It wasn’t hard to see the underlying message. The killer was practically screaming at the top of their lungs. With the exception of Navid, they had purposefully maimed the victims’ sexual organs. The sexual component was obvious.
Three university students and one professor. A party that got out of hand? Drinking? Dancing? Drugs, perhaps? A flirtatious girl? A girl in revealing clothes? Hormones?
Get her alone and then what? Sexually assault her? Rape her? How far was it taken? How did Navid fit?
Did the professor cover it up? Did he supply the drugs? The location? Did he lure her into danger?
A heartless bastard.It implied a different role. Navid was uncaring, that much we’d gleaned from his colleagues andstudents—except for his TA, who boasted superfluously about how he was such a great guy.
I considered Buckley as a suspect but dismissed him just as quickly.
Leafing through the accumulation of files on the desk, I uncovered a photograph of Navid.
“You knew what they did, didn’t you? You didn’t stop them. Did you help? How were you involved? Because youwereinvolved.”
I wasn’t wrong. My gut didn’t lie. I knew the reasonwhythese men had died, but who had killed them? When had the assault taken place? Ford’s parents claimed he was depressed and rarely left the house since dropping out of school. Was it possible they were wrong? Could this have happened when he was a student? That defied Rue’s thinking, but I had never agreed with her direction.
Yates’s report lingered. Two girls, hardly old enough to be considered teens. Accusations of rape. Three men. Jesse and two others. Not Navid. Jesse, Ford, and Malik?
A long, dark hair tangled in a tassel that had clearly been attached to a scarf of some kind. A woman’s scarf. It was a goddamn woman’s scarf. I would bet my job on it. One made for fashion, not the cold.
Like I’d seen Fatemeh wear both times I’d talked to her.
Like Blaze and Cheyenne wore on the day we’d interviewed them.
I had noted the trend.
How popular were they?
Perfume. Women’s perfume. On the rose.
“Wait a minute.” I snagged the phone and located the number for the forensic lab. When no one answered, I called Dominique’s personal cell.
