“Couple of miles out of town, next to a dumpster behind a fleabag motel in Prospect Hill called The Padre. Lot of prostitutes hang out in the area. CSIs checked the place over, didn’t come up with anything useful.” He kept his gaze on Kate. “Anything else you’d like to know?”
“Yeah, there is,” Jase said, drawing his attention. “I’d like to know if the girl was a local or if she came here recently from somewhere else.”
“We knocked on doors, talked to folks in the neighborhood. She was known in the area as Darcy. No last name. One of the prostitutes said she hadn’t been in the neighborhood long. No criminal record for soliciting, but she was clearly working the streets. I’d say she probably wandered in from somewhere else.” McKenzie downed his whiskey and set the glass back down on the table. “That it?”
“Appreciate if you’d let me know if you turn up anything else.”
McKenzie didn’t look enthused. He slid out of the booth. “I suppose I can do that. Long as you do the same for me.”
“Deal.”
McKenzie reached for his check, but Jase plucked it off the table. “It’s on me,” he said.
McKenzie actually smiled. “Thanks.” He sauntered across the room toward the exit, leaving them alone at the table.
Jase leaned back against the booth. “We’ve got two choices. We can head back to Dallas. Or we can have a couple of margaritas, spend the night and do a little more digging in the morning.”
“You think we might come up with something more?”
“Probably not.” He smiled. “But I don’t fly after I’ve been drinking, and I could sure as hell use a margarita.”
Kate laughed and the sound slipped right through him. He wished he could make her laugh more often.
“I vote for staying,” she said. “We can’t do anything more until tomorrow, anyway.” She reached out and snagged a chip. “But instead of a margarita, I think I’ll have a straight shot of tequila.”
Jase laughed. Damn, he liked this woman.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
They took the night off. Finished their drinks at the Thorny Cactus, then checked into an Embassy Suites just around the corner from the Riverwalk. Kate figured a big guy like Jason needed room to move around, which the suite provided, plus they could set up their laptops in the living room and do a little work before they drove out to The Padre Motel.
Once they were settled, they walked back downtown to a small country-western bar Kate had noticed earlier. A few more drinks, then the band started playing. Kate danced to half a dozen songs with Jason, who for a big guy was surprisingly good. She couldn’t remember having a better time.
Made even better by the passionate lovemaking back at the hotel, followed by a deep, dreamless sleep.
It was scary, Kate thought the next morning, how well the two of them fit.
Not that Jason would see it that way. Maddox wasn’t the kind of guy who’d be interested in any kind of ongoing relationship. Kate had known it from the moment she had seen him lounging against the wall of the saloon like a big handsome lion on the prowl.
Kate got up from her laptop as he ambled out of the bedroom, ready for their trip to the crime scene.
“Too bad you didn’t bring your hooker outfit,” he teased, checking out her dark blue jeans and bright pink tank top.
“Guess regular clothes will just have to do,” Kate said.
“Trust me, honey, as good as you look, you’ll have half the johns in Prospect Hill trying to buy a night.”
Kate grinned.
The Padre Motel could have been in Old East Dallas—same seedy neighborhood, same seedy clientele. She noticed Jase staying close to her as they knocked on doors, visited nearby businesses, and talked to people in the area.
Late in the morning, they got lucky. A heavyset black woman named Bessie who worked at a nearby mini-mart remembered the murdered girl.
“Darcy.” Bessie propped a thick hand on her ample hip and took a drag on her cigarette. “That was her name. Used to buy smokes in here, come in ’bout every other day. She hadn’t been ’round here long, just a couple of weeks. She was lonely so we talked some.”
“You know where she came from?” Jase asked.
“You a cop?” the woman asked, squinting at him through a wandering tendril of smoke.
