forty this morning, when Grant had been dead ten or more hours.”
“What do you think? Same guy?” Jimmy asked.
Dale nodded. “I think it’s our guy. I want to say that the murders are a serial killer profile. We have three— let’s expect a fourth to make it official. Knife used every time to cut the victims’ throats with one hand, while he has them under complete control with the other arm. Fast, easy, almost impossible to defend against and little or no struggle.”
He thought it was also someone Grant and Pitt had known and trusted.
While waiting for McAllister to arrive, he skimmed Pitt’s files. He searched through papers, drawers, filing cabinets and any other document container in the front and back offices.
Nothing with Grant’s name.
If Grant didn’t owe Pitt money, then why send Watters to the suite? Could the Pitt-Grant deal, if real, have been a cash job with no paperwork involved? And what about the anonymous phone call? Had the caller been trying to frame Watters, or was he reporting what he thought was accurate information? Pitt had admitted sending his employee to Grant’s suite that morning, but only for collection. Presumably, that meant that neither Pitt nor Watters had known that Grant was already dead.
Mark McAllister walked through the crime scene and over to Dale. “Have you found the safe yet?”
“No. We’re leaving that up to you while we do our own work. Okay, do your magic.”
It took McAllister two minutes to find the safe and less than three minutes to have it unlocked. Without a word, the safe breaker left.
Together, Dale and Jimmy opened the safe and found more than thirty thousand dollars in cash. Underneath the stack of bills, Dale found and carefully removed a stack of papers.
“What is it?” Jimmy asked over Dale’s shoulder.
“Not sure yet, but I’m glad we got them before the killer did. I’m too tired to think straight now, so I’ll go through them in the office tomorrow morning.”
The whole office would be bagged, brought back to the precinct and sifted. But Dale was sure it would yield little or nothing.
He had three perfect murders.
But if you looked hard enough, even “perfect” killers once in a while made mistakes.
Chapter 20
On the bed of his expensive hotel room, he sat cross-legged, naked except for a pair of latex gloves. He stared at the wall and awaited instructions. He had dropped the room temperature, which was now as cold as a meat freezer. Just the way that he liked it. It kept him alert.
The man didn’t sleep much. Sleep was for the weak. Every time he closed his eyes he opened himself to a series of vivid flashbacks—POW camps and torture.
He had only been in Vegas for a little over an hour and already he couldn’t wait to leave. He just didn’t like the town.
He heard footsteps in the hallway and then a knock on the door. Someone slid a manila envelope under it. From the sounds of the footsteps leaving he could tell it was a man.
The name Mr. Scott was printed on the outside of the envelope.
He split open the compact folder and removed its contents. He picked up a black and white photograph and an excited chill climbed his naked skin.
He threw the information on the bed when the phone rang.
“Yeah.”
“Did you get the package?”
“Yeah.”
“Stay in touch.”
He hung up without saying goodbye. He would be checking out and on his way soon enough.
It was late by the time Calvin returned from Pitt’s office, picked up Rachel and crossed the city to their hideout. Rachel, exhausted, excused herself and went to bed. When she left, Calvin went to his computer room to update his database.
He hacked into the LVMPD and learned that Detective Dale Dayton had been assigned twelve officers. With Dayton and his partner, there were now fourteen detectives on Calvin’s trail.
He had to be the prime suspect.
His search on Dayton told him that the detective was thorough and methodical, with a high success rate. If Calvin could find nothing on his own about the real killer, maybe Dayton could.
There was nothing yet on Pitt or the woman in his office. The murders happened too late to report.
But his DNA was on the scene. That was certain.
He needed to update and expand his database about the victims and possible suspects.
It was almost three when Calvin shut down his computer.
Chapter 21
Dale got to the office after eight. He hadn’t slept much the last three nights. For almost twenty-four hours now the new homicide investigation had consumed his life. His mind felt sluggish, but he had a team of thirteen people to run.
As he walked to his desk on Thursday morning, he went over in his mind what he thought to be true: Pitt had something or knew something. He might have known who was behind the Grant killing or had been involved and his murder had been a cover-up. Either way, Dale blew it. He hadn’t gotten the information out of the bookie.
He found his team huddled around Jimmy, probably telling a tall tale. They quieted down when they saw Dale. Had they been talking about him?
“Craig, fill this up.” Dale held his mug out to his youngest and most inexperienced officer. Dale smirked when he saw the cup. The mug, which read “#1Dad”, had been a gift from his wife after Sammie birth.
The kid moved on command, bringing back the mug filled to the brim with steaming coffee.
“All right, folks,” Dale started. “What did we find out? Parker?”
The young officer stepped forward. “Pete and I interviewed Grant’s first wife and his son and daughter. They were all cooperative. Grant and the ex were having no problems and Grant had been making all his payments on time. She said she still can’t believe what’s happened.”
Officer Duncan took over. “We took your advice and paid particular attention to the son. We hit the whole family with the description of the will right away. Shawn, Melanie and the former Mrs. Grant all said they knew about the terms of the will. Grant had told them about the changes he made after his second marriage.”
“By all reports, Shawn and his sister, Melanie, loved their father very much,” Parker added.
“Shawn, of course, has been running the Greek with his father for fifteen years,” Duncan said, “and told us he was in no hurry to have his father retire and turn full operational control over to him. The mother said Shawn had taken the divorce harder than the girl, but he had always loved his father. He didn’t like or trust Linda then and doesn’t now. He even thinks she’s capable of having been involved in his father’s killing.”
Dale’s brow rose, but he said nothing.
“Shawn despises Sanders, as his father did,” Duncan said, “and started hating him more when he kept pressuring his father to sell the Greek. Shawn said he could see how much that was wearing down his dad. He was hesitant at first, but then he mentioned the rumors that most of us have heard that Sanders was having an affair with Linda Grant. Of course, he didn’t have proof. He, as well as the women, thinks Sanders may also have been involved in his father’s murder.”
As Dale listened, he realized Shawn probably didn’t know he was a suspect. He gained too much from his father’s death.
