“That’s great. Have you followed up with him?”
“No, do you think that’s okay?”
“He’d expect it.” Kyra tapped her cup. “Do you want another?”
“No, but I am going to hit the ladies’ room.”
When Rachel left the table, Kyra picked up her cup and swiped her thumb through the moisture on the outside. The blue print circling around the cup listed the locations of Uncommon Grounds in the LA metro area. Her finger traced a line through West Hollywood and trailed to Studio City.
Gracie worked in Studio City. Marissa, who had a cup from Uncommon Grounds in her car, worked in Sherman Oaks, next to Studio City. Kelsey had gotten her nose pierced here on Melrose, steps from Uncommon Grounds, and Rachel most likely had her phone stolen from this shop. Three of the four victims had a connection to areas with Uncommon Grounds. West Hollywood. Studio City.
Kyra plunged her hand into her purse, which was hanging on the back of her chair, and dragged out another composite sketch. Why would a killer with a distinctive hairstyle like this visit a prostitute after one of his crimes? One who wasn’t afraid of being caught? That didn’t describe The Copycat Player. Did he even realize he’d been saying Gracie’s name?
Someone touched Kyra’s shoulder, and she jumped and turned her head.
“Sorry.” Rachel squeezed her shoulder. “I thought I was the jittery one. I’m going to take off now. Are you ready?”
Kyra covered the sketch with her arm. “Actually, I’m going to hang out and make a few phone calls.” She scooted back her chair. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”
“No, I’m good. There are still a lot of people roaming around, and my car’s in a public lot.” She bent over and gave Kyra a one-armed hug. “Thanks so much. I’m sorry I’m such a wuss.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Call me anytime.”
Rachel waved at the door and plunged into the steady stream of people on the sidewalk.
Kyra placed the drawing in front of her again. Maybe he’d worn a disguise for Sunny. The hair. She covered the unique cut with her hand and looked at the face. The glasses. She blotted out the lens on one eye with her fingers.
Then her heart slammed against her chest. She recognized that face. Had just seen it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As the meeting with Castillo wound down, Jake checked the time on his phone and saw several missed text messages and phone calls. He squeezed the back of his neck. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, but the hard work was paying off. The lab found male DNA on Sunny’s underwear, and they’d start running it through CODIS tomorrow. If Sunny’s john had been arrested for a felony before, he’d be in the system and they’d have their first real suspect.
Captain Castillo went around the room, but everyone was too eager to get out of there to bring up anything else to discuss on the case. They’d have a whole new ball game tomorrow.
As soon as Castillo adjourned the meeting, almost everyone in the room reached for their phones, which Castillo had demanded be silent for the duration of the meeting.
Jake’s stomach demanded food, so he took a quick leave of everyone and headed to his car. He got behind the wheel and listened to his first voice mail.
A sheriff’s deputy from the West Hollywood division had talked to a streetwalker who echoed Sunny’s account with her weird john. Jake called him back.
“Yates, this is McAllister. What do you have on the hooker? Same guy?”
“Sounds like the same guy. Same night as Kelsey’s murder, and she thinks he was saying a name but she doesn’t remember if it was Kelsey or not.”
“That sounds promising. Will she come in and make a statement?”
“She will, but I’m not sure it’s the same guy. I showed her the composite, and she said he looked similar but she can guarantee he didn’t have hair like that.”
Jake ran a thumb along his jaw. “Different hair?”
“And she thinks her guy had a mustache or some kind of facial hair.”
“Give me her contact info, and I’ll have her come in for an interview and a session with the sketch artist. If they’re the same facially, he might be wearing a disguise. He’s being careful.”
Jake ended the call and pulled out the sketch. He grabbed a pen from his console and drew in a more normal haircut for the man. The face looked even more familiar than it had when he’d first seen the rendering.
Propping it up on his steering wheel, he went back to his phone and returned a call from Billy.
“Sorry, man. I was in one of Castillo’s meetings. You know how that goes.”
“Mind-numbing.” Billy took a sip of something. “We got a little more info on Gracie’s habits. She worked in Studio City. Wasn’t known to frequent West Hollywood or Melrose at all. So, that’s a blank. Looks like she’s missing a ring, which I think we can now deduce is his trophy.”
“You’re right.” Jake drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Coffee?”
“Huh?”
“Any coffee cups in Gracie’s car, like Marissa’s?”
“I didn’t process her car, but I can check on the photos. I did tell you there was no way to tell if Marissa’s cup came from the Uncommon Grounds in West Hollywood or some other store, right?”
“Yeah, but I’d like to know about Gracie.”
“On it. You still at the station?”
“In my car going through my phone. I’m starving. You wanna get something to eat?”
“I’m meeting up with Megan Wright tonight after she does the ten-o’clock news. Tell me that’s not sexy?”
“Watch you don’t cozy up too much to the press.”
Billy chuckled. “That’s exactly what I plan to do, my brother. If you can make an exception for a therapist, I can make one for a reporter.”
“Whatever. Text me
