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LANDRY ROLLED TO HIS side and kicked free of the covers. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, two o’clock in the morning. Out of instinct, his eyes glanced over to his cell phone resting near the alarm clock, half expecting it to ring at any moment.
Early morning phone calls have become the norm lately, and he feared another victim would be found at any moment. But for once, the phone did not ring. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was awake at this hour.
Letting out a deep breath in total exasperation, he rolled over to his other side. The glow from the security light outside found its way through the blinds. He should go back to sleep; his body needed the rest. He should be exhausted, but sleep eluded him. Landry flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The cool air blowing from the air conditioner felt good against his heated skin.
Someone out there was killing men in some kind of twisted revenge, or maybe in her mind it was vengeance. Landry cringed in disgust. They were not dealing with a sane woman here. He wondered if she laid awake at night thinking of different concoctions to inject into her victims. He had no doubt she took all of this into consideration. The nicotine injection was not something that could be purchased over the counter. It was something she had to brew at home. Obtaining the amount of nicotine she injected into her victim had taken several days. That proved to him that these deaths were premeditated to some degree.
He had been researching women serial killers, but there was just so little known about them. A woman may not be your typical serial killer, but when she did decide to kill, she could be quite deadly.
A cool breeze swept across the room, raising the hairs on his neck. A feeling of foreboding settled deep in his gut. Landry looked at the window one more time to make sure it was closed. He reached down at the foot of the bed and pulled the covers back up.
He couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He was letting his imagination get the better of him tonight. He planned to do a little more research on women serial killers in the morning, focusing on the black widow killers. Maybe those previous cases would offer him some clues in his current case.
Landry closed his eyes, trying to fall back asleep. Instead of sleeping, an image of the beautiful Chloe Matthews invaded his dreams. He wouldn’t mind if she was sharing his bed at this very moment. The mere thought of her made his body stir in places that he would rather remain unaffected at the moment. Damn, why did he have to envision her? Now he would never get to sleep.
When he stepped out of his house, the impending heat and humidity of another scorching summer day welcomed him. The morning sunlight peeked through the pine trees. He could tell it was going to be one of those days.
By the time he made it into the office, he was in a foul mood. He wanted nothing more than to close this case. As he sat at the conference table looking over the boards, he sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair. He studied the photos they have of the possible unsub. He had to admit, the lady was a master of disguise. The way she carried herself showed that she was comfortable in her role. If only they could get a picture of her without those damn sunglasses. He speculated if that was her natural hair or a wig. In one picture, there was a resemblance to someone he knew, but he couldn’t figure out who she reminded him of. Maybe if he stared at the image long enough, it would come to him.
Landry was so busy concentrating on the crime scene photos that he picked up his phone as rang without bothering to see who was calling, “Landry.”
The dispatcher informed him, “Sir, the manager of The Windsor called. He said you better get over there fast and to keep it very quiet. He has a dead body, but you won’t be happy with it.”
“Mon Dieu, I’m not happy with any of these murders.”
“Well, sir, he said the shit would hit the fan with this one. It’s Brad Gautreaux, sir.”
Landry was dumbfounded when he heard the victim’s identity. This was totally unlike the perpetrator. If she was from the area, she could not have mistaken him for a married man. It has been plastered all over the papers that he was one of the most sought after bachelors in Louisiana. “Keep all radio traffic to a minimum, and I mean minimum. Make sure you stress it to everyone. The shit will hit the fan with this murder.”
“Yes, sir.”
This particular murder would get a lot of publicity. It was the stuff tabloids dreams were made of. Once they officially confirmed that it was Brad Gautreaux, his family would have to be informed before they heard it from some reporter. Landry instructed the dispatcher, “I want you to call forensics and have them get over there. The whole area has to be sealed off, no one in or out of that hotel until I say it is okay. We need to keep this away from the media for as long as possible.”
When Landry and Benoit arrived, they noticed right away that the lobby was bustling with activity. Hotel guests crowded the grand curved stairway that led to the second floor. Several were lingering around the front desk, as well as sitting on the sofas and wing back chairs that flanked the lobby.
Everyone was curious as to what happened. The general manager, John Paul Marcel, was trying his best to answer their questions without giving away too much information.
The concierge was just as busy fielding questions. Mr. Marcel had instructed him and all other hotel employees to inform guests that someone was ill and they needed to call the ambulance.
Hopefully, the story would hold up for a little while. A police officer was trying desperately to get everybody back to their room, but so far those attempts have been futile. The guests were apprehensive about cops swarming the area.
Forensics did manage to seal off the entire area and a patrolman stood outside each of the exits, making sure no one sneaked in or out. Landry greeted the young officer standing guard at the hotel room door, “Morning Officer Garret, where is the person who found the body?”
Officer Garret nodded his head in the direction of a settee near the elevator. “Her name is Kay Bankston, sir.”
“Thanks.” Landry walked over to where the young woman was seated, “Ms. Bankston, I understand you’re the one who found the body.”
She nodded her head in agreement, still clearly shaken from what she witnessed. “I’m new, but the others warned me to check the room to make sure there were no dead bodies before I cleaned it. I thought they were pulling my leg. When I saw the man on the bed, I honestly thought they had decided to pull a prank on me until I moved closer. It surprised the hell out of me. I went straight to the front desk and told them what I had found.”
“Did you recognize the man on the bed?”
“Yes, sir, I’m the one that told the manager. He told me if I want this job, I better keep my mouth shut. I’m not sure if I do want this job, but either way, you don’t have to worry about me blabbing it.”
Landry wondered how long they could keep the identity of the victim unknown. He heard Dr. Amy Renault call his name. She was more than likely ready to give him her initial findings. Entering the room, he made his way to the body. He watched as one of her assistants placed brown paper bags around the victim’s hands to contain any evidence that may be there.
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Once again, he was struck by her beauty, “Hell of a way to spend the morning,” he said.
“Your killer has struck again. The needle mark was easy to find, near the heart.”
Dread swept across his body. The other murders may have upset the town, but this murder would shake the entire region to its core. “How long has he been dead?”
“He’s not in full rigor. Liver temp indicates about four hours.”
Landry ran his hand along his forehead to try to ease the dull ache that was starting to form. Who was killing these men? This particular unsub was aware of forensic techniques. She was very careful, making sure she wiped down the bodies, which meant she spent time in the room after he was dead.
When he was ready to leave the hotel, the parking lot was full of reporters. He wondered if somehow word had leaked about who was murdered. He saw Chloe up ahead, “Detective Landry, is it true that Brad Gautreaux was murdered last night.”
Damn! How did she find out so fast? He must stress to everyone working this case that the identity of the victim has to remain unknown for as long as possible. The killer broke from her usual pattern last night, and he needed to know why.
He informed all the reporters outside the hotel, “I have no comment at this time. I am sure our public relations department will be making a statement to y’all shortly.”
The reporters continued to bombard him with questions, but instead of acknowledging that he heard them, he and Benoit got in the car and drove back to the station. No sooner than they arrived, Landry heard Sheriff Williams holler, “Benoit and Landry, in my office. Now!”
Benoit looked over at Landry, “I take it we are dead meat.”
“Come on mon ami; let’s go get this over with.”
They both knew that their mild-mannered sheriff could tear into the hides of his personnel when needed, and they were hoping this was not one of those times. Either way, Landry had little doubt that today’s meeting would not be fun. Sheriff Williams closed his office door as they sit down, “Please tell me we have something this time around.”
Landry replied, “Yes and no. The crime scene is almost exactly the same as the previous scenes, no trace evidence and she made sure she cleaned up after the murder. The only difference is, this time I believe she knew the victim. The only other time she killed a single man was when he deceived her and had a wedding ring. I have a suspicion that if he did not have that wedding band on his person, he would still be alive. She seems only to kill married men.
My gut tells me that the victim recognized her and she was left with no choice but to kill him.”
Sheriff Williams scratched his head, “And what makes you believe that?”
“Simply because every hot blooded female in Louisiana knows that Brad Gautreaux is a very eligible bachelor. He doesn’t fit her victimology.”
“I am getting a lot of heat from this case. The Mayor wants me to call in the FBI, and I have a feeling Mr. Gautreaux’s family will also be pushing for the same thing.”
Landry had a suspicion this conversation would be coming up. The last thing he wanted was to hand this case over to the Feds. “Sheriff Williams, I say we hold off on calling the feds. There is a good chance that she will continue to slip up. Let’s see how this plays out before we call them in. I’m begging you.”