She placed the bowls on the cement outside her front door and returned to the kitchen to grab her trash. When she walked out the door, swinging the plastic bag, Spot flattened his ears against his head.
“Sorry to disturb your dining, Spot.” She chuckled. “Dining spot, get it?”
She shoved through the gate, careful not to allow it to clang behind her. The neighbors didn’t like that, either. She held open the lid on the dumpster with one hand and swung her trash bag in, letting it fall with a soft squish.
As she turned, something on the ground caught her eye. A piece of trash must’ve found its way out of the bag. She crouched down and nearly toppled over as the queen of hearts stared back at her from a playing card.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jake’s throat felt scratchy from his time in the inferno last night. He’d gargled with mouthwash this morning, which could’ve been a mistake. He popped his fifth throat lozenge of the day into his mouth and cruised into a conference room being set up for the task force.
Brandon Nguyen, their tech guy, glanced up and tapped on the desk next to him. “This is yours, Detective. Phone and network lines are in, and your computer’s already been moved over.”
“Thanks, Brandon. Did you account for a few visitors? The body last night was found in LA County Sheriff territory, not our division. Their homicide guys are gonna want to weigh in.”
“Captain Castillo already informed me, and we’re getting it covered.”
“Damn, you’re on top of things.” Jake crossed the room and hoisted his bag on top of his assigned desk. “Any news on that phone call last night?”
“Our team’s on it. We expect something shortly.”
Jake pivoted. “Are you telling me that call didn’t go right back to a prepaid cell phone?”
“Doesn’t look like it, but we’ll know for sure within the hour, I’m thinking.” Brandon pointed to the desk next to Jake’s. “We’re putting Detective Crouch’s desk next to yours. Is that okay?”
“He has to sit somewhere.” Jake winked and pulled up a chair. He flipped open the file from the body last night. No easy ID had been forthcoming. Preliminary info gave them a woman between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, Caucasian, five foot four inches, approximately 135 pounds, tattoo of a butterfly on her back, no fingerprints on file. He’d assign someone the task of going through missing persons reports to look for a match, if that person could wrestle them away from Billy. Ever since Billy’s youngest sister had gone missing, he’d taken a personal interest in the reports.
Other officers had done a search of Kelsey’s car and the area around it for her diamond nose stud, and had come up empty so far. Another search of her body’s resting place hadn’t yielded anything, either.
Had the copycat gotten greedy and taken two souvenirs? It was unusual, though not unheard-of. Better for them, more to tie him to the crimes once they nailed him.
Billy sauntered into the room and perched on the corner of Jake’s desk. “How can you work with all this racket going on?”
Jake reached over and tapped the desk next to his. “This is for you, Cool Breeze. I had Brandon over there set you up right next to me so I can keep an eye on you.”
“Seems to me you’re the one who needs watching. We were interrupted last night, but I was going to tell you that Kyra Chase is too young to have worked with Quinn on a case. That’s not how she knows him, so if that’s what she told you—” he lifted his shoulders and his tailored shirt barely creased “—she lied. Thought you had your fill of lying women.”
“Yeah, I misunderstood. That’s not what she told me. She knew Quinn’s wife, the mystery writer, Charlotte Quinn.” Jake rubbed his chin, not sure why he’d jumped to Kyra’s defense. Maybe it was a mystery he wanted to figure out for himself.
“That makes more sense.” Billy rose from the desk and peeled off his suit jacket. “If you continue to hang out with Kyra, see if you can get me an introduction to Megan Wright. Just saw her on the morning news on KTOP and she’s fine.”
“You’re married, Billy.” Jake dusted the spot on his desk where his partner had been sitting.
“Technically, but we’re separated again. Simone deserves more in a husband, and the kids need more than a part-time dad.” Billy’s megawatt smile dimmed as he hung his jacket on the back of his chair.
Jake opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He was in no position to give marital advice. Maybe Billy was right. Simone deserved better than a stressed-out cop using bad behavior to curb his anxiety. Tess sure had.
Brandon bolted from the room, calling over his shoulder. “They got it.”
“What’s he talking about?” Billy raised his eyebrows.
“The phone call. They traced the phone call.” Jake was out of his chair by the time Brandon rushed back into the room, waving a piece of paper.
“I have it, Detective. We got the phone, and it’s not a burner.”
Jake snapped his fingers. “Let me have it.”
Brandon handed the paper to him, and Jake scanned to the pertinent information—the registered owner’s name. “Rachel Blackburn?”
Billy leaned over his shoulder. “Could be a wife or a girlfriend.”
“This guy hasn’t left one fingerprint or one sliver of DNA. Do you really believe he’s going to use his wife’s cell phone to call in a tip about a body?” Jake pinged the piece of paper with his fingertip.
“Of course not. Hoping for anything on the guy.” Billy let out a long breath, and the edge of the paper fluttered. “He got that phone somehow, didn’t he?”
“He sure did, Cool Breeze, and we’re gonna find out how.” Jake held out his fist for a
