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The guy’s a serial killer in the making. It’s only a matter of time before he starts killing hookers to cleanse the earth.
Hope’s assessment of Cami’s stepfather didn’t seem too far off as I stared into the cold, flat eyes of the man on my computer screen. There was no emotion in them, even as he smiled into the camera.
Was it possible he graduated from locking his stepdaughter in a closet for her “sins” to targeting women who worked the street?
I jotted his name in my notebook under “suspects” and then snuck a peek at Jordan’s computer screen.
We were stretched out on the lobby floor of the agency with Riley sprawled contentedly between us. Jordan was sifting through records while I browsed social media profiles.
I grabbed one of the purple peeps from the package on my left and tossed it at him. It bounced off his ear and landed on his laptop keyboard.
“Real mature,” he said with a smile. He tossed it back, and I caught it. “Did I use the last of your marshmallows in the chocolate milk? Is that why you’re eating stale rabbits?”
“They’re not stale.” I bit off the bunny’s slightly crusty ears. “And yes, I’m out of minis. Temporarily.”
“I guess it’s back to carrots and celery.”
Maybe when I was literally starving and had no other options. “Anything on this guy whose name screams, ‘I kill girls for fun’?”
Jordan grinned. “I think his last name is pronounced Killin-ger, not Killing’er. And yes, Cami’s stepdad, Peter Killinger, has a criminal record for disorderly conduct, resisting arrest, aggravated assault, and destruction of property.”
“Doesn’t sound like someone I would wanna live with.”
“He definitely warrants further investigation.”
“What about Spike?” I licked the sticky sweetness from my fingertips and flipped through my notebook to find the section about him. “Rob saw him arguing with Cami Monday night, and Hope said he tried to manipulate them into working for him by arranging an attack. That’s someone capable of kidnapping. Shouldn’t we talk to him again?”
“There is no we in that scenario. I’m not taking you anywhere near that guy. If the investigation points us in his direction, I will go and talk to him. Alone.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “He’s dangerous. You should bring backup.”
“If I bring you, my sole focus will be on protecting you, not questioning him. The only person I might consider taking with me is Sam. He’s armed, and he’s a formidable presence.”
“He’s a good choice.”
Jordan’s fingers stilled on the mouse pad, and he regarded me with concern and suspicion. “You never agree that easily. Promise me you’re not planning to sneak off and talk to Spike on your own.”
“I promise.”
He relaxed. “Good. I doubt he’s involved anyway. I can’t picture him hiding behind a hood and scarf or running away from you at the hospital.”
Good point.
“My primary person of interest right now is Joel Dominguez. There are too many questions surrounding him,” he said, opening another window on his laptop.
“But he was gone before the incident with Cami in the alley.”
“Which means he’s unaccounted for during that time. According to David, this isn’t the first time Erik picked up a girl for the group, but Joel leaves early on the one night something ends up going wrong, only for a mysterious man to show up in his place. And the entire time Cami was missing, he’s been missing.”
“You think he came back in disguise and kidnapped her? Why would he do that?”
“Why do guys like this do anything?”
“Wouldn’t his friends recognize his car or the way he moves?”
“Maybe they did recognize him, and they’re lying to keep him out of trouble,” Jordan said. “David practically squirmed when I asked him about Joel. Erik gave us his name before defaulting to ‘talk to my lawyers.’”
“But if Joel had Cami and David knew it, why would David go to Brushwick looking for her yesterday morning?”
“No one’s been able to get a hold of Joel, not even his parents, so the only way for David to confirm that he returned Cami to the place where Erik picked her up was to go there. When he found out no one had seen her since the night before, he became agitated.”
I turned the theory over in my head as I stared at my notebook. “But he might’ve been upset because he did nothing to stop a kidnapping, and finding out she was still missing the next morning could’ve amplified his fear and guilt. That would stress out anyone with a conscience.”
“True, which is why Joel is a person of interest, not a suspect. I’m checking all public records. You wanna check social media?”
“Sure. What does he look like?”
As a licensed private investigator, Jordan had access to information and databases most people didn’t, so I wasn’t surprised to see Joel’s driver’s license photo on his screen when he angled his laptop toward me.
Joel, twenty-three, had raven-black hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t a large man, at least as far as I could tell from the details in the picture.
I launched into a search for him on Facebook. “Do I ever get to use your fancy credentials to snoop on people?”
“No, but if you have a problem with someone, I hope you would tell me so I can look into him.”
“Why are you assuming my hypothetical problem is a guy?”
“You were there when I mentioned that you tend to attract weirdos, right?”
I smiled and rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t argue. I attracted weirdos like picnic baskets attracted hungry bears.
Popping the last of my marshmallow peep into my mouth, I released a contented sigh. I enjoyed working alongside Jordan to find and help people. It gave me a sense of purpose.
It took me a while to find Joel’s Facebook page. It must’ve been set to private, because I couldn’t see anything but a handful of useless details and his primary photo.
“Nothing here.”
“Joel does have a black vehicle registered to his name, which is what David claims the kidnapper was driving,” Jordan said. “And his father owns a prominent construction company. I’ll see if I can pull together a list of unfinished properties the company is working on.”
“Why?”
“If any of them are delayed because of contracts or material issues, they’re an ideal location to keep someone. Detective Chamberlin might be able to find evidence or, considering this guy may have tried to grab more than one woman, another victim.”
“If Joel is our guy. I still think it could be Cami’s stepdad. He could’ve found her on Brushwick and followed Erik’s car Thursday night.”
“I’ll check into his whereabouts, but one important thing about investigative work is keeping an open mind. If we focus on one of these guys too much and we’re wrong, we could miss the guilty suspect right in front of our faces.”
I grabbed another marshmallow, squishing it between my fingers. “This kidnapper, whoever he is, what do you think he wants?”
“I wish I knew, because it might help me make sense of all this.” He propped himself up against the reception desk, arms draped over his knees. “My gut is telling me there’s a connection between Cami’s abduction and Dorina’s attempted abduction. Both victims are women, working in the same field, the same street, attacked a night apart. But the vehicles don’t match, the way the man concealed his identity is different, and the victims are drastically different in age.”
I pushed myself into a sitting position across from him. “What if he didn’t expect Cami to get sick, and when she did, he came back for a different woman the next night?”
“Setting aside the differences between the crimes for now, I can see that. His attempt to grab Dorina goes awry because of Clayton, and he goes home empty-handed.”
“And then this morning, Cami is left in the alley behind the apartment building of yet another woman who works in the same field on the same street, and then someone approaches her son.”
“Maybe Tyler was never the target. What if he happened to be outside when the man came by for Hope?” Jordan said. “She fits with the other victims. They’re all different ages and races, but it’s possible the draw for this guy is simply the act of prostitution.”
Most serial killers start by targeting prostitutes, Addison had said. I had ignored his theory because Tyler didn’t fit and no one had died, but considering things from this angle, maybe he wasn’t completely off the mark.
“If he’s targeting these women solely because of their profession, what are the chances, out of all the women on Brushwick, he would pick three who are friends?” I asked.
“I would say it’s highly unlikely.”
I could call Sam, my statistics-loving friend, and ask him for the probability, but the conversation would spiral into a lecture on how I could’ve become a statistic myself by wandering around Brushwick.
Solid pass on that lecture.
Or was it . . . hard pass?
“So this guy chose these girls because they’re connected, or he has some connection to all of them,” I said, tugging at my bottom lip with my teeth as I struggled to come up with a theory. “A mutual . . . client, maybe?”
“We can’t rule it out. Hope is certain she has no enemies, Dorina didn’t offer up any names, and Cami . . . hopefully she can tell us something when she comes around. These women aren’t the most forthcoming, and I have a feeling this guy is in the details we’re not hearing about.”
“Addison threw out a wild theory about the man possibly stalking his victims, and I think he could be right. This guy drove past Hope’s apartment building, and Cami wasn’t on Brushwick when he grabbed her. He has to be following them.”
“I would say that’s likely.” He turned his wrist to see the time on his watch. “I’d rather not take David’s word for what happened with Cami, so I’m gonna go see about security footage in and around the alley where she was supposedly kidnapped. Considering how upscale this club is, they should have exterior cameras, and hopefully one of those cameras captured the kidnapper or the license plate of his vehicle. I wanna get to the club a little before it opens at nine, so I should get going.”
A night club—an overcrowded place where people went to flirt and dance to deafening music while passing around drugs and alcohol. Even the thought of being there tickled my anxiety.
“Um, do you mind if I stay here and do some more research?”
Understanding softened Jordan’s eyes. “I didn’t figure you’d feel comfortable in that environment. That’s the only reason I didn’t ask you to come with me.”
I cleared my throat and dragged my computer into my lap. “I’ll be more productive here, I think.” Mostly because I wouldn’t be hyperventilating in a bathroom.
Jordan closed his laptop and pushed to his feet. “I’ll call Chamberlin on the way and let him know about our suspicions. If he thinks there’s a chance this man will come after these women again, he’ll reach out to them.”
When he hesitated, questioning his decision to leave me alone after everything that had happened, I patted Riley’s back. “We’re good. And I’m not gonna take a cab anywhere. Promise.”
“Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Call me if you need me.”
He took his gun and his investigator’s license with him, and Riley and I stretched back out on the floor for a long night of scouring the internet for information.