The Eyes Die Last (36 page)

Wilder’s cell phone rang.  “Hang on, I got a call coming in.” 

“No shit.”  Kennedy replied, “It just blasted through my earpiece.  How about turning the damn ringer down a few notches.” 

She waited patiently for Wilder to finish his call.  When he came back on the radio he sounded almost happy. 

“That was Jimmy.  He tracked down the night doorman at Campenelli’s high rise.  The guy was in Cancun.  He verified Campenelli never left the building through the front doors on the nights of the first three murders.  Security videos covered the other exits.  Your boy is clean, Kenny.” 

“He’s not my boy.  Besides, how can the doorman be sure?  Maybe he took a break and Campenelli slipped out.  It would be easy enough for a smart guy like him to pull it off.” 

“Jimmy asked him the same question.  The doorman said if we want to verify what he said, just check the surveillance camera on the corner outside the entrance to Campenelli’s high-rise.  No one goes in or out of the front doors without being filmed.” 

“I’ll be damned.” 

“Yeah, looks like we could’ve checked the city’s cameras all along.” 

She paced a circle, keeping an eye on the activity around her.  “I didn’t realize they were up and running already.  Sparky and I were just talking about the cams a couple days ago.” 

“The doorman said the one outside his building was just installed a little over a week ago.  The paperwork probably hasn’t been processed, much less released yet.  There’s no way we could have known.” 

“Too damn much paperwork to sort out.”  She could barely keep the irritation out of her voice.  “The finished work order is probably sitting in a pile on some clerk’s desk.  I wonder how many of the other cameras around the city are up and running?” 

“Don’t know.”  Wilder’s voice faded in and out.  She pictured her partner shrugging his shoulders.  "No one has heard anything since the decision was made to install them.” 

“Hey Wilder, would you get Jimmy back on the phone and see how many of these cams are in place and running that we don’t know about?  If he finds any active in Hooker Haven, have him pull the surveillance tapes from the nights of each murder.  I want to see if anything clicks.” 

“Kenny, it’ll take forever to watch the tapes.  There were supposed to be surveillance cameras attached to most of the traffic cams in the area.” 

She knew he was right, but she wanted the case over and the killer down for the count.  “They may not be activated yet.  And if they are, its only four nights worth of film.  No biggie.” 

“I’ll make the call.”  “Thanks.” 

Five hours on the street corner was more than enough.  Kennedy decided it was time to call it a night. 

“Hey Alli, we’re shutting down for the night.  No psycho killer seems to want you.  Maybe you’re just not his type.” 

“How can she not be his type?  In that outfit, she’s every john’s type.  She’s even wearing the wig she bought today.” 

“Wilder.” 

“Yes?” 

“You’re so not funny.  Let’s go.” 

Alli agreed.  “Thank God!  Come pick me up, would you?  I’ve got blisters on my feet the size of Rhode Island.” 

“We’ll be pulling up to your corner in a few minutes.  I’ll be in john mode.  Don’t forget to play the part.  Shake your stuff for me.”  His laughter filled Kennedy’s earpiece. 

“Shake my stuff for you?  If you weren’t a detective, I’d box your ears.” 

Kennedy laughed.  “Don’t worry about it Alli.  I’ll do it for you.” 

Kennedy, sitting low in the back, was still laughing when they pulled up to the curb.  Wilder lowered the passenger side window and tapped his watch. 

Alli bent over and stuck her head in the window, acted like she was working a deal.  She tossed her shoes in the back seat and got in the car—after giving her ass a good shake. 

Up
on the roof across the street, Nick smiled as he watched the officer yank off a pair of ridiculously high-heeled shoes and toss them in the backseat of Wilder’s car.  He was impressed she’d lasted over five hours in them.  Before getting into the car, she’d given her ass a sexy little shake.  He wondered what that was all about.  As they pulled away Nick could have sworn he saw Kennedy reach forward and smack Wilder on the ear. 

Nick, seeing Kennedy was safely on her way home, left his self-appointed watchdog
po
st
.
He had some detective work of his own to do. 

She would’ve been pissed as hell if she’d known he was keeping an eye on her, but there was something about her that drove a need in him to protect her.  Maybe it was the vulnerability that he thought he saw. 

Whatever it was, he kind of liked it. 

The
killer sat back in the seat of his parked car and gave himself a mental high five.  He’d just figured out a way to get rid of Detective James so he could move in for the kill.  It’d been a long, hot night watching the whore cop work the street and not getting to enjoy her, or the detective, hiding just around the corner.  Well, next time, he’d fix that problem. 

Every time the girl had worked a john tonight, his fingernails had dug into his clenched fists until they bled.  His neck and shoulders were aching with knots.  She took one man after another into the darkened alley and he wondered just how far the cop went with them.  He wouldn’t put anything past the whore.  But she was probably sucking up to the detective, trying to impress her.  O’Brien would do anything to solve a case, to bring in a killer.  Anything to win.  He smiled.  This time she wasn’t going to win. 

Over the last week, she’d slowly turned into an obsession.  Killing the bitch was going to be so much fun.  This kill would be more exciting than all the others had been.  His fingers actually twitched at the thought.  He’d have her soon, all of her, and her partner wouldn’t be around to stop him.  He grinned with the knowledge.  He turned the key and the car’s engine caught.  He turned up the air as he drove off. 

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

NICK TOOK A LARGE BITE OF HIS HAMBURGER AS HE STUDIED THE COMPUTER SCREEN.

“How did your résumé ever make it past a security check, my friend?” 

He was doing an online search of his campaign manager.  Amazing what you could find out by paying $20.00 to a background checking company and doing a little more digging on your own.  He’d known John Tully for ten years.  Or at least he’d thought he knew him.

John had legally changed his name thirteen years ago.  His previous name had been Bobby Whiteside.  His past as Whiteside was definitely a bit on the iffy side.  He’d married when he was twenty, divorced less than a year later.  His ex-wife had had multiple affairs during their short marriage.  They’d had a very public falling out resulting in John spending some quality time in a court-ordered anger management program.  That could certainly drive a man to hate women—all women.

Just as disturbing, it appeared John had also had a major drug problem.  He’d been in rehab twice and did a couple weeks of jail time before his lawyer was able to step in and get the charges dismissed.

John had done a good job hiding his
pa
st
.
Nothing had come up on the basic background check Nick had used ten years ago.  Since then, he’d been an ideal employee and friend.  For the last six months, in addition to being VP of operations, John had been Nick’s campaign manager.  He’d been doing a great job.

“Wow.  You fooled me, buddy.  But I’m still not convinced you’d hurt anyone...  except maybe yourself.”

By
the time Wilder dropped Kennedy at her apartment, she was beat and ready for bed.  After scrubbing the street grime off, she had no problem falling asleep.  Kennedy woke up late in the afternoon, refreshed and ready for another round of the happy hooker game.  But first, she had some security cam film to review.

She dressed in jeans and a navy blue LVPD tee shirt, dark enough to blend with the shadows of the alley as she and Wilder kept an eye on their girl. 

Just as she finished dressing, Kennedy’s doorbell rang.  Assuming it was Wilder, she grabbed her sig and opened the door.  Instead, a man with a special delivery stood at her door. 

After tipping the guy, she placed the nicely wrapped package on her coffee table.  She looked at it for a minute before gently shaking the package.  Nothing.  She put her ear to it and listened.  Nothing.  She sniffed at it.  Mmmm...  Something familiar.  Tearing the box open, she looked inside and smiled. 

Grape taffy, and she had a good idea who the sender was.  He knew the way to Kennedy’s heart wasn’t roses.  Smart man.  The accompanying card simply said, ‘I like the way you taste’.  She wasted no time tearing open a piece and popping it into her mouth.  The man knew his taffy. 

From deep inside Kennedy’s overstuffed purse, Another One Bites The Dust rang out.  She tore her attention away from the taffy and dug out the phone. 

“O’Brien.” 

“I’ll pick you up in twelve minutes, thirty seconds.  Be ready so we can get to Metro sometime this year.  I need to see what’s happening with our warrant to bring
St. Louis
in for DNA testing.  I’m beginning to wonder if it made its way to the DA’s desk.  We may have stretched probable cause too far.” 

“It’s possible.  Or, maybe it’s already been processed.  We might get lucky and find it sitting on one of our desks.” 

Kennedy closed the phone, grabbed her stuff and left.  It was a little early, but she needed to check her mail on the way out. 

She was walking through the apartment’s hallway when she ran into her neighbor, Lettie Valentine.  She nodded at the woman, and then remembered her new plan to be neighborly.  Since she had a few minutes until Wilder showed, she stopped.  “Hi, Mrs.  Valentine.  Are you staying out of the heat?” 

“As much as I can, dear.” 

“Good to hear.” 

Okay, enough friendliness for today.  Kennedy’s gaze drifted to the hall window and her eyes narrowed. 

“Wilder?  What’re you doing sitting out front of my building?” 

Mrs.  Valentine adjusted her glasses and peeked out.  “I see that man out there all the time.  He just sits there and talks on his phone, then a few minutes later you come down, he pulls up to the entrance and you leave with him.” 

An ah-ha moment.  Kennedy lips curved into a smile.  “So that’s how he does it.” 

“Pardon me, dear?” 

“Never mind, Mrs.  Valentine.  Nice chatting with you.” 

Instead of going through the front entrance,
Kennedy left through the side
door. 

Now, this is gonna be fun! 

Kennedy
snuck up on Wilder and tapped on the passenger side window.  Coffee splashed out of his cup as he jerked. 

She pulled open the door. 

“Shit, Kenny!  That coffee’s hot.” 

“Twelve minutes, thirty seconds?” 

“Busted, huh?”  He wiped at the coffee pooling on his pants. 

“You’re a slick one, Wilder.  You call me once you’re at the place you’re picking me up, don’t you?” 

“Yep.  I make the call, pick a time I’ll show, and wait for you to come out.  When I see you come through the door, I roll the car forward and it looks like I’m just arriving.  Hell, Kenny, you’re the one who’s always on time, not me.” 

“You’ve been doing this for years, haven’t you?” 

“Just fun and games.” 

She glared at him. 

“Took you long enough to figure it out.”  Wilder laughed most of the way to Metro. 

Kennedy pouted. 

As they entered the bullpen, Kennedy’s phone rang.  “O’Brien.” 

“Detective, this is Al down in evidence.” 

“Hey, Al, you doing okay?”  Al was in a wheelchair after his back had met a bullet while he was on duty.  He was one of Kennedy’s favorite people. 

“Can’t complain.  We just received a plastic grocery bag containing purses and jewelry.  Could be the items you’ve been looking for.” 

“Where was it found?” 

“A patrol officer found it in a dumpster several blocks over from Washington Street.  She just brought it in and I remembered you and your partner were looking for any purses or jewelry turned in.  I’ve got to say, the objects scream hooker accessories.  I think this could be what you’re looking for.” 

“Great!  Can you send it over to the lab for me?  Thanks, Al.” 

A couple of hours of looking at security tapes and surveillance cam film made Kennedy’s eyes blur.  Sparks and Tenuta had come through for her; they’d tracked down all the film she’d asked for.  She was surprised at how many of the cams were up and running in Hooker Haven. 

“My eyes are going to be permanently damaged from all this video.”  “Aren’t you the one who told me it wouldn’t be that hard?” 

She turned to Wilder, furrowed her brows, and spoke in a hoity-toity voice.  “Obviously, I was mistaken.” 

She welcomed the break when her phone rang, pleasantly surprised to hear her grandfather’s voice. 

“Hello, lass.  How’d your undercover assignment go last night?”  “How did you know I was undercover last night?”