By the end of the lengthy rehearsal, Ethan could read the exhaustion in Val’s pretty face, in the way she rubbed the aching muscles at the back of her neck. The stage setup at the Fox was completely different from the Music Hall in Dallas, which meant there was a whole new routine for the models to learn.
In Dallas, Val had had most of her evenings free, but in Atlanta, she was required to attend several different evening functions. She had some sort of dinner scheduled for tonight, then a private event tomorrow evening, a charity benefit at the home of a wealthy Atlanta businessman. In the morning, she had to be up early for a TV interview.
As much as he wanted to follow her into the bathroom and join her while she showered, there wasn’t much time, and he had his own work to do.
He wasn’t getting paid to have sex with a beautiful model. His job was to protect the women and solve the murders that plagued the show.
First he phoned Bruce Hoover, where the time was three hours earlier. The killer in Seattle was the man Ethan was most worried about. He’d sent notes to ten women and managed to put La Belle’s top model in her grave. He was methodical, efficient, and immaculate, leaving not a trace of himself, not a single clue. Everything about the murder shouted the guy was a pro.
Everything but the notes.
It didn’t make sense. Which didn’t mean the wack job couldn’t be ex-military, ex-cop, ex-spook, or just a skillful serial murderer.
He dialed Hoover, who answered on the second ring. “Afternoon, Detective.”
“What do you want, Brodie?”
“I was hoping to hear from you. Since I haven’t, I figured I’d call. What’s the latest on the Larsen murder?”
“You haven’t heard from me because I got nothing to tell you. We looked for similar unsolved cases, similar MO, came up with nada. The guy’s not a serial, or if he is, this is his first time out. We canvassed the area around the condo again, but nobody was up at that hour. No one saw a damn thing. For now, we’ve reached a dead end. How ’bout you? I hear you got a copycat down in Texas. Murdered some poor stripper.”
“That’s right. Guy named Byron Mahler. Lives in Dallas. Completely different MO except for leaving a similar note—which, thanks to our friends in the media, I figure he made up from the ones on TV.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Mahler’s in the wind. Which means he may have followed us to Atlanta.”
“Could well be. Plus our Seattle creeper might just be there, too. You don’t think Boudreau ought to cancel the tour?”
“I’d suggest it if I thought there was a snowball’s chance in hell he’d listen. Too much money at stake.”
“You better do your job, then, my friend. We don’t need any more bodies.”
“You got that right.” Ethan broke the connection.
His next call was to Heath Ford. “It’s Ethan. You got anything?”
“No sign of Mahler,” Ford said. “We got every cop between Texas and Georgia on the lookout for this guy. I do have something for you . . . or I should saysomeone. Friend in the Atlanta PD. Name’s Rick Melon. Good guy. I gave him your cell number, asked him to keep you posted.”
“Rick Melon. Thanks, Heath.”
“We’re gonna find this guy, Ethan. Sooner or later.”
“Make it sooner,” Ethan said.
Heath chuckled and hung up the phone.
Ethan had one more call to make, this one personal. He hit the contact button for his attorney, Frank Gibbs, in Seattle.
“Frank, it’s Ethan. You get those papers filed?”
“I took care of it. All done nice and legal. The court isn’t likely to give you full custody of Hannah—the mother has to be dangerous to herself or the child, a hopeless addict, or damn near certifiable for that to happen. But with any luck, the filing will scare the bejesus out of your ex. You’ve already been granted visitation, two nights a week and every other weekend. That’s more than reasonable, which Allison is bound to know. The idea is to press her into abiding by the ruling.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“We’ll move forward in whatever way we can.”
Ethan nodded, satisfied his attorney was doing the best he could. “Thanks, Frank.” Ethan ended the call. Beyond the attorney/client relationship they shared, he and Frank were friends. Ethan did PI work for Frank; Frank did whatever legal work Ethan needed.
