Rachel leant back against a parked car. ‘Anything and everything. Why? Are you interested?’
Hunter disregarded her question. ‘And you’ve attended some of these parties?’
‘A few,’ she said casually.
‘How about Jenny?’
‘Yeah, she’s been to some.’
‘How many girls at a party?’ Garcia asked.
‘Depends on how many guests there are, but it’s usually somewhere between ten to fifteen of us, plus some others.’
‘Some others?’
‘If it’s a big party, twenty or thirty guests, they’ll need at least fifteen to twenty girls, plus guys.’
‘Guys?’
Garcia’s naivety made Rachel laugh. ‘Yeah, honey, male models. As I’ve said, people have all kinds of fantasies, including bisexualism and homosexualism. If that’s what they like, that’s what they get. Does that turn you on, hun?’
Garcia’s shocked look amused Hunter. ‘No, of course not,’ he replied in a firm voice.
‘I’m glad.’ Another sexy wink.
‘Do you remember ever seeing Jenny and this man together at any of the parties?’ Hunter cut in.
‘Probably, it’s very hard to say. At these parties everyone plays with everyone if you know what I mean, but I do remember seeing him playing with other guys.’
Both Hunter and Garcia’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘I guess you weren’t expecting him to be into men, right?’
Garcia shook his head.
‘Are you sure?’ Hunter asked.
‘Oh yeah. He puts on quite a show too.’
‘How can we get into one of these parties?’
‘You can’t. Unless you’re invited. They aren’t paid parties. The host, usually some rich jerk, hires the models and invites whoever he wants. You ain’t friends with him, you ain’t getting invited,’ she explained.
Hunter feared that was the case. ‘Do these parties happen on Tuesday nights?’
‘There isn’t a specific day for them. Whatever day the rich jerk decides to throw them I guess.’
‘Was there one last Tuesday?’
Rachel thought about it for a few seconds. ‘If there was, I wasn’t one of the girls.’
‘Did you ever notice anyone strange in these parties?’ Hunter asked.
Rachel laughed. ‘Other than the people who like to be peed on, stepped on, tied down and spanked, burnt with hot wax or have things shoved up their ass?’
‘Yes, other than them,’ Hunter answered.
‘No, nobody stranger than them.’
‘Do other women apart from the models attend these parties?’
‘Sometimes. I’ve seen guests bring their wives or girlfriends to them. I guess some couples are very liberal,’ she replied with a chuckle.
‘So no one in particular caught your attention?’
‘I don’t pay much attention to the people in the parties. I’m just there to do a job. People’s looks play no part in my job. If it did, I wouldn’t be doing it.’
Hunter could easily understand why.
‘Did Jenny live in your building?’ Garcia asked.
‘No. I don’t know where she lived. I don’t know where any of the other girls live. D-King prefers it this way. Anyway, her old place would be cleared out by now.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘All the apartments belong to him. When one girl goes, another comes in. He takes good care of us.’
‘I can see that,’ Garcia said, tilting his head towards the glassy building. ‘What happens to her stuff? If she left anything behind I mean.’
‘Most of the stuff also belongs to D-King. He decorates the place, gives us clothes, perfume, make-up, you name it. He knows how to pamper us girls.’
The three of them fell silent for a few seconds.
‘Can I go now?’ Rachel asked with an impatient tone.
‘Yeah, thanks for your help. Oh, just one more thing,’ Hunter called out as she’d started to move away from them. She stopped and with a loud sigh turned to face both men. Her sunglasses back over her eyes.
‘Do you remember seeing anyone with a tattoo that looked something like this?’ He showed her a small drawing of the double-crucifix.
She looked at it, frowned and shook her head. ‘No, never seen it before.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Very.’
‘OK, thanks again.’ Hunter folded the paper and placed it back in his pocket before handing her one of his cards. ‘If you ever see anyone sporting a tattoo that resembles this one or if you see this symbol anywhere, please get in touch.’
She took Hunter’s card and regarded it with a smile. ‘I might just call you anyway.’
‘I think she likes you,’ Hunter said, giving Garcia a pat on the back as soon as Rachel was out of earshot.
‘Me? You’re the one she wants to call. Maybe you guys can get together and who knows, she might even take you to one of those extreme parties,’ Garcia teased.
Forty
Hunter lay awake in darkness staring at the ceiling, his mind too full of thoughts to fall asleep.
Was that how the killer chose his victims? From bars, clubs and parties?
This killer wasn’t one to stick to any routine and Hunter had a feeling he was missing something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He felt exhausted and drained of energy. No matter how hard he tried, his brain would never disconnect for more than just a few seconds. He knew he was starting to fall into the same abyss as before, and his partner was following on the same path. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
The room was silent except for the tender breathing sound of the brunette sleeping next to him. Her hair soft and shiny, her skin beautifully smooth. Her presence calmed him.
After their quick interview with Rachel Blate, Hunter and Garcia had gone back to their office. There, Hunter met up with Patricia Phelps, the RHD sketch artist, and they both went back to Isabella’s apartment. Garcia had decided to stay behind, saying he wanted to check up on a few things. Isabella had done her best to remember everything she could about the tattooed man she met a few months ago. It had taken her fifty-five minutes and three cups of tea, but in the end Patricia had sketched an image that Isabella agreed was pretty close to the man she’d seen.
After Patricia was done, Isabella asked Hunter to spend the night with her. Hunter’s revelation that she may have met the killer had scared her too much. She felt alone and vulnerable and Hunter was the only person she could think of, the only person she wanted next to her. Hunter was itching to get on with the case. To start processing the new information he got today, but he couldn’t leave Isabella alone. Not tonight.
‘Can’t sleep?’ Hunter hadn’t noticed that Isabella was also awake. He shifted his body to face her.
‘Not really, but I never sleep much anyway, I’ve told you that.’
‘Aren’t you tired?’
‘My body is tired. My brain’s wide awake. My brain always wins that argument.’
