The tattoo that Javier had designed forCallie was big. Seven point three inches, top to bottom. It wasn’t somethingyou would be able to hide away. It was designed to be seen. People with visibletattoos, like hers and like Dowling’s—they weren’t usually good people.
Things were beginning to stack up.Callie and her boyfriend were in the drugs underworld. Hanging about with thewrong type of people. Even though she was clean when she died, she had the kindof past that attracted murder. Just because Dowling had a clean lifestyle now,didn’t mean he hadn’t been involved in something before.
“Thank you, Javier,” Zoe said briskly. “Thatwill help us a lot.”
“Wait,” Shelley interrupted. “I justhave a couple more questions.”
Zoe motioned for her to go on, steppingback toward the door where she could wait out of the way. As far as she wasconcerned, they were done, and she wanted to be in a position to leave soon. Shedidn’t want to waste any more time looking at these pointless tattoo drawingsand talking to Javier, who had already given them the most interesting thingthey needed to know.
“Are you aware of anyone who would havewanted to harm Callie?”
Javier shook his head no. “I alreadytold the cops earlier. She was a sweet girl. These days. I mean, she reallychanged. No one wanted any harm to come to her.”
Had she really changed, though? Zoewondered. Could a leopard change its spots? Callie certainly couldn’t changehers—not the ones etched forever onto her body. Forever, that was, until herkiller had burned them off.
Maybe all of this was connected. Maybeshe had gang tattoos that needed to be burned off. Maybe someone saw her as thelast link in a murderous game that had been running for a long time. The lastbit of revenge for a drug-runner released from prison, or a biker gang lookingto purge themselves of someone who had broken their rules.
“What about this morning, last night,yesterday? Have you noticed anyone unusual hanging around?” Shelley was asking.
“No, not at all,” Javier said. Hisweight left him and he collapsed onto a low bench slung against a table,burying his head in his hands. “I wish I knew more. I wish I could saysomething that would find whoever did this to her. She didn’t deserve this.”
But maybe someone thought she did. Thatwas for Zoe and Shelley to work out, and they weren’t going to get anywherecloser to doing that here.
“We will leave you with your thoughts,”Zoe said, a phrase she had heard before that she thought sounded at least mildlysympathetic. “If you think of anything that might be useful, please do get intouch.”
Ignoring the reproachful look thatShelley was giving her for not being friendly enough, she walked out of Javier’stattoo den, pleased to be breathing free air and no longer surrounded by all ofthe distraction of his garish designs.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He watched her from across the street.
She didn’t know him, and he didn’t knowher. Not personally. But he knew enough.
He watched her, and he knew things abouther that others didn’t. He knew where she lived, alone on the ground floor of anapartment building downtown. He knew that she worked part-time at a store threeblocks away, to support herself while she studied. He knew that she’d taken awhile to find herself and what she wanted to do with her life.
He knew that she had a tattoo on herinner right forearm, and that she dyed her hair. He had seen her collection ofcostume jewelry trotted out one day after another, and knew that she liked tomix up her look every time she went out. He knew that she left the house atprecisely 8:32 a.m. on the days when she needed to work, because she had herjourney down to an exact science. He knew that she would pick up a coffee onthe way which she pre-ordered from an app to avoid the lines, and that she wouldgo to the back room in order to change into her uniform before emerging toserve customers.
He knew when her shift ended, and theroute she took to walk home.
He knew that she needed to die.
He could barely stand to look at her,but he knew that he needed to watch. He needed to observe. He tapped absentlyon the screen of his cell phone, as if he was engrossed in its contents,watching her through sunglasses that hid his eyes. He had been scoping out herroutine for a few days now, and he knew she would pass by here before she did.This bench, placed perfectly to watch her go.
The world was going to be a much saferplace when she was gone. That much was clear to him.
He watched her walk by, exactly onschedule, and pass out of his field of vision. Not that it mattered. He knewexactly where she was going. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, hegot up from his bench and began to stroll along the sidewalk in the samedirection she had gone.
On Saturdays, she pulled a double shift.She was paying for her own tuition, and she needed the money. With no lecturesto attend on a Sunday morning, it made sense. Her co-workers were all too happynot to have to work Saturdays themselves, at least not as often as they would ifshe didn’t take both shifts. It was an arrangement that suited everyone.
It suited him especially, because whenshe finally left and locked up to go home, it would be dark. He would behidden. She would never see him coming.
He followed her at a long distance untilhe reached the store, glancing inside to see her just emerging from thestaffroom. Good. He didn’t linger. There was no point. She was where he neededher to be, and that meant everything was going to plan.
He seethed as he thought of her, of thevery fact that
