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LANDRY SAT UP ABRUPTLY. His breath came in short, shallow pants. His heart pounded violently against his chest. He woke up in a cold sweat, the bed sheets clinging to him. Was it the dream that caused him to sweat or the humidity hanging heavy in the air.
This case was getting to him. “Damn!” he thought to himself. What was he missing? The killer continued to taunt them. She actually believed she was smarter than them. He would prove her wrong. The clues were there, he just had to look for them.
He ran his deeply calloused hands down his unshaven face, trying to wipe away the perspiration. He let out a deep sigh, trying to pull himself together. The phone rang as soon as he laid back down. His heart lurched. He couldn’t help but glare at the cell phone sitting on the nightstand. The incessant ringing shattered the silence of the night. He glanced at his alarm clock and groaned. It was only three o’clock in the morning.
Landry answered, “Let me guess, she struck again?”
The dispatcher responded, “Sorry sir. She did. The body is at The Windsor again. He’s been dead for over twenty-four hours though, sir.”
“How was he discovered at this hour?”
The dispatcher went on to explain, “The man’s secretary has been trying to reach him for the last day. All of her calls went unanswered. The secretary began to worry since it had been quite a while since she last heard from her boss. She finally got tired of calling the cellphone and asked the front desk to patch her directly to his room. Those calls also went unanswered. The secretary begged the night manager to go and check on him. He figured he should, since several of their guests were already complaining about the smell coming from the floor his room happened to be located on.”
Landry couldn’t understand how this was happening in this town. He searched the room for his haphazardly discarded clothes from last night. He had been so tired that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. He guessed he had maybe three hours of sleep.
Landry instructed the dispatcher, “Tell Benoit to meet me there. Have the responding officer secure the area and request that Dr. Renault is the ME who responds. Have you called the Sheriff?”
“Yes, sir.”
By the time Landry hung up with the dispatcher he had his jeans on and was looking for a shirt to wear. He needed to look presentable in case the media had caught wind of this. They have already dubbed their killer as “The Black Widow.” He unlocked the gun safe and tucked his Glock into his holster.
Landry shrugged off the visions that were currently dancing through his mind. He despised dealing with decomposing bodies. He grabbed the keys to his 2000 Corvette off the entryway table and headed to the crime scene. His mom called the car his mid-life crisis purchase. That may be partially true, but he also bought it for the speed. There was nothing like taking this baby for a drive and feeling the way it handled the corners. Whenever he needed to clear his head, he found a long, winding back road to let the horses run free. It was such an exhilarating rush.
Five minutes after Landry received the call he was on the road heading towards downtown Stewart. Def Leppard was playing on the radio, and he turned it up as he drove. He wanted a clear mind when he arrived. He didn’t want to picture the previous crime scenes. It would hinder his ability to be objective if he went into the situation believing that the murder was committed by the same perpetrator. He didn’t want to draw any conclusions; he wanted the evidence to support his theory.
The night was quiet and very few cars on the road. He needed to try to get into the mind of the assailant. This killer would not stop until they stopped her. She was getting more perverse in the poisons she was using. So far each poison injected had been one that would cause intense pain during the slow process of death. He couldn’t even fathom the pain these victims went through before death finally took them away. What did these men do to her to cause the hatred she must feel for them?
He pulled up in front of The Windsor. He had no desire to give the valet the opportunity to drive his car. It wouldn’t hurt to leave his car here, just in case they need to run down another lead. Before the valet could say anything Landry flashed his badge.
Benoit pulled up behind him. “Mon ami, you ready?”
Landry also noted that the vultures had arrived as well. Several news media journalists were reporting “live”.
He instructed one of the officers working the scene, “Lambert, make sure you keep this situation under tight control. I don’t want anyone from the force or hotel talking to the media just yet. I want to keep this from turning into a media circus for as long as possible.”
He saw Officer Lambert smirk, “Yes, sir.”
Landry went on to instruct him, “If you have to bodily remove someone who refuses to listen, please feel free to do so.”
“Yes, sir!”
When they arrived at the crime scene, the evidence technicians were already working. They were dusting the entire room for fingerprints as well as searching for any trace evidence the killer may have left behind. A crime scene photographer was busy taking lots of stills, as well as a video of the actual crime scene.
The ME had also just arrived on the scene. Dr. Renault did receive the call to work the case. At least they would be getting an ME already familiar with the case and knew what to be on the lookout for.
The putrid smell of death hit him full force as soon as he entered the room. It would be a while before he could get that smell out of his nostrils. Landry had a hard time believing that it had taken this long for someone to complain about the odor. He had a feeling that management had been receiving complaints for a while, but chose to ignore them, possibly in the hopes of pushing the responsibility of dealing with the complaints on another poor soul. There was no doubt this hotel room would need a crime scene cleanup team. The mattress would have to be disposed of; there was no salvaging it. He wondered if the other beds have also been removed.
There was no doubt in his mind that The Windsor was one of their unsub’s hunting grounds. Did it hold a special meaning, or was it just convenient for her?
Landry already had his tablet out taking notes. He asked Office Blanchard, “Do you know who called it in?”
“Yes, sir, the gentleman over there in the wingback chair. His name is Justin Dupre. He is the current night manager.” He motioned towards the end of the hall, near the elevator. In that dead space, the hotel had placed two wingback chairs and a small end table.
“Do you know if Mr. Dupre went into the room?”
“No, sir, he said the smell hit him as soon as he opened the door, and he called the police right away.”
While Officer Blanchard talked, Detective Landry continued taking notes. He would also need to make sure he spoke with Mr. Dupre. This hotel has had some unfortunate luck with the dead bodies surfacing here. It wasn’t good for business.
Landry instructed the forensics technician, “Make sure to vacuum the room thoroughly. I want to see if there is any trace evidence in the carpet fibers. There is no way this woman, and I use that term loosely, is killing all these men without leaving something behind.”
“Yes, sir.”
Landry put on his latex gloves and walked over to the body. It was definitely in decomp. Dr. Renault was instructing her technicians, “I want to make sure his hands are bagged, just in case there is trace evidence.”
Landry asked Dr. Renault, “What do you think?”
“The crime scene is the same as other others, as is the body. Because of the decomp, it will be difficult to locate the needle mark, assuming there is one. I will look over the body once it is back at the morgue and let you know. I am also going to rush the Tox screen panel. I believe this is another victim of hers, though.”
“Damn!” He knew Dr. Renault was correct in her assumption though. The crime scene was too similar for it not to be her. As with the other cases, there appeared to be no struggle at all. From the trace fibers left behind at the previous crime scenes, they were assuming she was using a form of bondage to hold the men down while she injected them with the poison. The fibers found in the mouths of the victims also lead them to assume she gagged them with a black silk scarf.
“Do you have an idea about the time of death?” he asked Dr. Renault.
“Rigor is starting to leave the body, so I am saying around twenty-four hours. I will know more once I have him on a table.”
Benoit had been talking to the secretary, trying to get her boss’s schedule. Landry wanted to build a timeline to see where this poor man may have run into his killer. They will also check his phone records to see if maybe he had called an escort service.
A chill snaked down Landry’s spine. He didn’t see this woman stopping anytime soon. Women serial killers were few and far between, and it would be just his luck that he would be the one to land the case. Landry exhaled a deep sigh. His dad always warned him that a scorned woman could be deadly. He wasn’t joking.
Dr. Renault was ready to move the body. Her assistant covered the victim’s hands with paper bags, just in case there was any skin or other trace evidence under the nails. Once at the morgue, she would scour the body for any other trace evidence. Landry watched as the body was sealed in a black body bag and placed on the gurney. Once the body was removed, forensics would finish searching the bed for trace evidence. He hoped that she left behind more evidence for them to process this time.
It took several hours to process the crime scene at the hotel. Landry and Benoit still needed to conduct interviews of the hotel employees, as well as both the night and day managers. They would also need to get the hotel security tapes and compare them to the other tapes they already have. They were looking to see if the same woman appeared throughout. Landry has quickly learned that there were very few faithful husbands out there. He witnessed several public figures that live around here checking in during the middle of the day. He has become an expert at picking out most of the escorts that were coming to see clients. Yes, this case had opened his eyes quite a bit.
So far, their searches for similar cases have come up empty handed. Her signature remained the same throughout. The only change had been the poison she used. They were looking for one vindictive lady. At first, Landry believed she was just going after men that cheated on their wives, but Mr. Anderson was a single man, which led him to believe that no man was safe in her web.
Landry ran his hands through his hair. He looked at the wall clock in the task room. It was going on eleven o’clock. After all the interviews had been completed, they had come back to the office to start compiling what information they have so far and updated the task boards. They have a lot of theories but nothing solid to go on.
Landry asked the computer techs to go through the hotel security videos and print pictures of all women going in and out of the hotels. They could then line up the photos and try to see which woman was a constant figure. This may be their only chance of getting a description of their suspect.
Benoit stood up to stretch his legs, “Mon ami, I’m going home. If I don’t get some sleep, I will be of no use to you.”
Landry also considered going home. Benoit was right; if they didn’t get some sleep, then they would be of no use to anyone. There wasn’t too much else that they could do. They were waiting for reports from forensics and the ME. The computer techs were busy developing still pictures of the women, but that was a tedious process and would take several hours to complete. “We may as well go home and start fresh in the morning. Maybe by then we will have some pictures to go through and start looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Landry turned off his computer and headed out to his car. His body may need sleep, but his mind was still racing.
It was dark out as he left the station. Looking at his phone, he realized it was now after midnight. He had lost complete track of time. He stifled a yawn as he walked towards his car.
As he opened the car door, he heard someone calling him, “Detective Landry, do you have a minute?”
He knew he was tired if he allowed someone to get the drop on him. He looked around to see who was calling him. He was startled to find himself looking at a gorgeous woman. She was a foot shorter than him at least. Her deep auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in a mass of curly waves. Even at this hour of the night, he could see she had the most beautiful green eyes.
“Detective Landry, do you have any updates on the Black Widow murders?”
He should have known she was a reporter. “I have no comment for the press at this time.”
Before he could open his car door, she rested her hip on the door, barring him from opening it unless he shoved her out of the way. To show that she meant business, she placed one very well-manicured hand on her hip. “Look miss....”
She extended her hand, “Chloe Matthews.”
He shook her hand reluctantly, “Look Ms. Matthews, I have no new information for you. I’m tired and I want to get a couple of hours sleep.”
“Detective Landry, please, I will only take up a few minutes of your time. I work for the Stewart Herald. I want to give my readers a little more information about these cases.”
He had to admit the lady was persistent. “I have no comment at this time.”
“What about your assessment of the case?”
“You really need to be talking to our public relations department. They will give you all the information we are allowed to release at this time.”
She refused to back down, “I already have the Sheriff Office’s Press Release. Now I want to talk to the detective working the case to get first hand knowledge.”
“Look lady, that won’t be happening. I have no desire to have my ass handed to me on a silver platter after my boss finds out that I talked to the press.”
“I could keep your name out of it if you would rather.”
“Damn right my name will be kept out of it, because I refuse to talk to you or anyone else for that matter.”
His eyes gravitated to her lower lip as it drooped. He couldn’t help but think about how sexy she looked when she pouted. Somehow he missed how perfectly tantalizing her lips looked.
“Look Ms. Matthews, it is nothing against you, really, I just don’t talk to journalists or news reporters, ever.”
Undaunted by his remarks, she crossed her arms as if to throw a tantrum. Until that moment, her figure somehow went unnoticed by him. He knew he was exhausted now; otherwise he would have never missed noticing that she had a very nice rack on her. “Detective, the public has a right to know what is going on. It is your duty to serve and protect, am I right? Well, how can you protect the public if you keep what is going on around here a secret?”
The whole time she spouted off about his duty to the public, all he thought about was how attracted to her he was. “Again, no comment!”
As he was getting into the car, she grabbed his arm, the physical reaction was electric. The heat from her touch sizzled through his body. She must have had the same reaction to him as he did to her. She quickly removed her hand, as if she had literally burned her hand by touching him. Their eyes met, “Detective, I want you to understand that I am just doing my job.”
“Ms. Matthews, I need to do my job without you harassing me in the middle of the night. I would hate to have one of our fine officers arrest you for interfering with a case.”
That statement lit a spark underneath her, “You do remember the First Amendment, don’t you Detective? I do believe it is something about Freedom of Speech.”
“I don’t need you harping to me about Freedom of Speech and all that crap. That amendment has caused me more heartache than I care to admit.” Landry hoped to piss her off enough to storm off and leave him the hell alone. The last thing he needed tonight was to sit out here fighting with an overzealous reporter, especially one that he would rather be kissing to keep her quiet. Now was not the time to start a new relationship, especially with a hot little reporter. No, he needed to keep his mind focused on the case and not let his libido go into overdrive for this woman.
Instead of storming off, she continued to stand there glaring at him, “Look, lady, what will it take for you to get the hell out of here?”
He saw a smug grin form on her face. She knew she had him now. “Was the man murdered by the same person as the others?”
“At this time we are not positive. There are similarities in the cases.”
She pressed on, “Do you have any suspects?”
“I can’t answer that at this time and you know that. I have told you everything that I can. I will not release any details on the victim’s death or his identification.”
Before she could ask another round of questions, he opened his car door and shut his door. She just stared at him as he started the engine. As he pulled away from the parking lot, he caught a glimpse of her in his rear view mirror. She was standing in the parking lot watching him leave with her hands on her hips. He had to fight the urge to turn around and go back to kiss her. He needed to stay the hell away from her. Dating a journalist would bring him nothing but trouble.