“I’ve always prescribed to the where-there’s-a-will-there’s-a-way philosophy.”
“That philosophy in the DA’s office can get you fired or disbarred or both.”
He gave her another slow smile that made her think he knew a hell of a lot more about the DA’s office than she gave him credit for. “I’m not a member of the bar. I can’t be disbarred. As far as firing me goes . . .” He shrugged. “I have friends in high places.”
“That is so inappropriate.”
“I’m an inappropriate kind of guy.”
Kate wanted to give him a smart comeback, but her mind was already back on the case. “Why do you want to talk to Ellis?”
“Put me in a room with him and I’ll know within five minutes whether or not he’s lying about someone hiring him.”
“What are you going to do? Rough him up?”
He smiled. “Cops don’t rough people up.”
She didn’t smile back. “I don’t want you talking to Ellis.”
“I could talk to Bates, have him ask Ellis a few questions for me.”
“If that gets out and we get slapped with a mistrial, I’ll have your job.”
“You keep forgetting I have friends in high places.”
Kate thought about what Bates had said and wondered if it were true. Maybe Frank missed police work. “You’re an investigator for the DA’s office now, not a detective.”
Ice flickered in his eyes, but was gone in an instant. “With all due respect, I think there’s more going on here than meets the eye. I’d like to—”
“I need you as an investigator, not running off on some wild-goose chase.”
It was the first time she’d seen him flush. And she knew immediately it was anger that colored his cheeks, that the emotion was powerful and deep and came from a place where there was plenty more.
“It’s good to know you have so much faith in cops,” he said.
Kate hadn’t wanted to pull rank, but she knew men like Frank Matrone didn’t do well with subtle. “This has nothing to do with cops or the police department or even the fact that you used to be a cop. It’s about your role in this case.”
He stared at her for an interminable moment, his expression angry. “How are you going to feel if you’re wrong about this?”
Kate had never been one to shrink away from conflict, but she could feel her neck and shoulder muscles tightening, the way they always did when she got into a confrontation. The truth of the matter was she didn’t want any problems with Frank. She needed the collective focus of her team on the case. She needed his focus on the case. But she could tell by the way he was looking at her that this wasn’t over.
“This isn’t about my feelings,” she said. “This is about the case. It’s about evidence. And our ability to prove to twelve people beyond a reasonable doubt that this man is guilty as charged.”
“Or maybe you’re afraid I’ll screw up your winning streak if I dig up something that adds reasonable doubt.”
“Look,” she snapped, “we have two dead women. We have their murders, a sexual assault, and the commission of an armed robbery on videotape. That’s all I need to get my conviction.”
“This is all about getting your conviction, isn’t it?”
She stared into his eyes, taken aback by the anger she saw there, wondering what she’d done to elicit it. “Yes.”
“Let’s just hope you got everyone involved and not just the fall guy,” he said and walked out.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 5:28 P.M.
Kate knew better than to let Frank’s parting shot get to her. There was no doubt Bruton Ellis had done the crimes. They had him on videotape. But as hard as she tried to put her worry aside, a niggling little voice wouldn’t let her. By the end of the day the stress had taken its toll in the form of a headache.
She hadn’t seen Frank since their heated exchange that morning, which was probably a good thing considering she was still angry with him. Absently she picked up the brown expandable file David had set in her in-box before he left. Trying to decide if she wanted to go through it now or wait until she was home, she leafed through its contents. Her finger stopped on a hard copy of the benefit package from the Snack and Gas franchisee, Quick Stop, Inc. Curious as to what benefits would become available to Evangeline Worth’s surviving children, she pulled the stapled bundle from its nest and skimmed.
On the last page there was mention of a life insurance policy. It would pay one thousand dollars for every year of employment upon the death of an employee. Evangeline Worth had been with the Snack and Gas for five years. That meant her beneficiary—in this case her four children, all of whom were minors—would receive a lump sum of five thousand dollars. Not much considering they’d lost not only their mother, but their sole source of income.
Feeling a raw pinch of sympathy for the dead woman and the family she’d left behind, Kate skimmed the rest of the documents. The franchisee of record was Quick Stop, Inc., a corporation based in Oklahoma City. The corporation on the benefits package, however, was listed as Quorum Partners Limited. Kate thought it was odd that the policy owner was a parent company and not the franchisee of record. It was a small thing. Probably insignificant with regard to the case. But Kate was meticulous by nature, a stickler for detail, and downright anal-retentive when it came to being thorough.
A glance at the clock told her it was probably too late in the day to get much done, but at the very least she could get the ball rolling with some calls. Snatching up the phone, she dialed the number of the franchisee.
“Good afternoon, Quick Stop, Inc.”
Kate identified herself, asked for the legal department, and was immediately put on hold. She drummed her fingers impatiently for a full minute before someone answered.
“This is Debbie, can I help you?”
“This is Kate Megason with the Dallas County district attorney’s office. I’m working on the case related to the murders of Evangeline Worth and Irma Trevino.”
“Oh, God, that was so terrible. I was really glad to hear the police got the guy. How can I help you?”
“I have a life insurance policy in front of me for Evangeline Worth.”
“I’m glad to hear she had the forethought to buy life insurance. She had four dependents, you know. Kids.”
“This policy wasn’t initiated by Ms. Worth. The policy was taken out by the company she worked for.”
“Hmmm.” The woman made a sound of confusion. “We don’t administer life insurance from this office.”
Kate paged through the policy. “The policy holder is listed as Quorum Partners Limited.”
“Oh. That’s our parent company.”
“Is that where the life insurance policies originate?”
“I’m not sure, to be perfectly honest. I usually deal with worker’s compensation issues, OSHA requirements, store accidents, you know, slip-falls, stuff like that.”
But Kate’s curiosity had been roused. “Can you give me the number for Quorum Partners Limited?”
The woman rattled off the number. Kate thanked her and without hanging up dialed Quorum Partners Limited. A recorded message told her the office closed at five and would be reopening at eight the next morning.
“Crap,” Kate muttered and dropped the phone into its cradle.
Turning to her computer, she called up her contact list and dialed Frank Matrone’s number. She counted four rings and was about to hang up when he answered with an annoyed “Yeah.”
“It’s Kate,” she said, taken aback by the roughness of his voice. “Are you . . . all right?”
A beat of silence and then a decidedly annoyed, “I’m fine. What’s up?”
She wanted to believe the nerves quivering just beneath the surface was because they’d parted on uneasy terms. But that didn’t explain why the photo she’d seen of him in the Dallas Morning News article flashed in her mind’s eye. He’d been lying in a hospital bed, his bare chest covered with a thatch of dark hair. He’d had a heav
y five o’clock shadow. A smile that hadn’t looked real. A thumbs-up with a hand swathed in bandages . . .
“Don’t you ever go home?” he asked after a moment.
“Oh, I was . . .” She didn’t know why she was so flustered. Kate never got flustered. “I was going through some papers from the Ellis case and I found a life insurance policy.”
“Who’s the beneficiary?”
“Her four children stand to receive five thousand dollars.”
“Not much.”
“No, it isn’t.” Kate looked down at the benefit package. “Quick Stop, Inc., is the franchisee of record. But the policy holder is Quorum Partners Limited.”
“Parent company?”
“Right.”
“I ran a D & B on Quick Stop. But not Quorum.”
“That’s why I’m calling.”
“And I thought you’d called just to hear my voice.”
He was flirting with her. And Kate’s heart was beating a little too fast despite her efforts to quell it. “I’d like for you to see what you can find out about Quorum. I’m sure all of this is routine, but since we’re dealing with a capital case, we’ve got to cross the t’s and dot the i’s.”
“Dotting and crossing as we speak. I’ll try to have something for you in the next day or so.”
“I’m going to do a little poking around. If I find anything on my end, I’ll let you know.”
Kate wanted to talk to him about their argument that morning, but didn’t know how to breach the subject. If she was too soft, Frank would bulldoze right over her. If she came on too strong, she risked alienating him and causing more problems than if she just let it go.
The silence turned uncomfortable. Frank cleared his throat. Kate closed her eyes, annoyed with herself for letting herself get rattled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He disconnected without replying.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 9:34 P.M.
The two men met at the Comedy Club on Beltline Road in Addison. The place was dark and loud and packed with happy-hour revelers and corporate executives out to blow off steam. The comedian was just winding into high gear when the man in the Armani suit found a table at the rear. He sat with his back to the wall so he could watch the door and not have to worry about anyone looking over his shoulder. He’d just blown out the candle centerpiece and set his briefcase on the floor at his feet when the man in blue jeans and an expensive jacket joined him.
“This fuckin’ guy is funny as shit,” the man in blue jeans said.
A waitress in a low-cut peasant blouse took their drink orders and hustled away. The man in blue jeans watched the show and laughed. The man in the Armani suit didn’t think the comedian was particularly talented. But then, he hadn’t chosen this place for the entertainment.
Neither man spoke until the waitress returned with their drinks. Finally the man in the blue jeans looked at the man sitting across from him, all traces of laughter gone from his face. “So, what do you have for me this time?”
“Gainful employment, if you’re interested.”
“I’m always interested in working for you. You have a gift for interesting jobs, and you always pay me what I’m worth.”
The man in the Armani suit swirled the ice in his glass. “I pay for discretion.”
“Discretion is my specialty. What do I have to do?”
“Screw up someone’s life for a little while.”
“I’m good at that. Just ask my ex-wife.” He glanced at the comedian onstage and chuckled. “Does this person have a name?”
Reaching into the briefcase, the man in the suit removed the folder and slid it across the table. “There’s a photo, too.”
The other man opened the folder. His eyebrows rose as he paged through the dozen or so documents and the single photograph. “A fucking ADA?”
“She’s digging into something that could potentially cause me problems. I want her stopped.”
“Permanently?”
“That would be a big mistake at this point in the game.”
“I’m talking an accident, of course.”
“Too much risk. This woman is a prosecutor. Any whisper of foul play will bring down the wrath of the entire criminal justice system. I do not want attention drawn to this case.”
“We’re talking high risk, man.”
“I know the risks.”
“Then you know risk is expensive.”
He contemplated the other man. “How much?”
The man in the blue jeans removed a pen from his breast pocket. He wrote a five-digit number on a napkin and slid it across the table. “This kind of work doesn’t come cheap.”
“Evidently not.”
The man in the blue jeans looked interested. “Nice face. Young. But she’s got a tough look about her.”
“She’s a pit bull. But even pit bulls have a weak spot. I want you to find hers.”
“You’ve piqued my interest. When do I start?”
“Right away.” The man in the suit motioned toward the file on the table between them. “All the information you’ll need is in the file. I’ll wire the money to your account like before.”
“How far do you want me to take this?”
“For now I want her distracted, not hurt.” The man in the Armani suit rose. The comedian and cigarette smoke had given him a headache. “If this doesn’t work, then we’ll take it to the next level.”
FRIDAY, JANUARY 27, 3:15 A.M.
Kirsten’s screams echoed inside Kate’s head as she ran through the darkness. Screams filled with pain and horror and outrage. At some point Kate had begun to cry. Giant sobs racked her body. She was crying so hard the tears were choking her, blinding her.
“Kirsten! Run!” Ahead, she saw the outline of a stand of trees. A warehouse surrounded by a chain-link fence to her left. If she could reach the trees, she could hide. Get a rock. Maybe the police would come and save them. She headed for the trees at a dangerous speed.
“Shut that bitch up!”
She looked to her left to see the fat man standing over Kirsten. He drew his foot back and kicked her hard. Kate screamed. “Kirsten! Oh, God! Don’t hurt her!”
She was nearly to the trees when he caught her in a flying tackle. She went down hard. He came down on top of her, and they hit the ground with bone-crunching force.
Kate felt her front tooth break. She tasted blood at the back of her throat. But every pain that racked her body was made smaller by the fact that she knew the worst was yet to come.
She tried to get to her knees to crawl away, but it was impossible with her hands bound behind her back. “Where do you think you’re going, pretty little Katie?” he said in a raspy voice.
Grabbing her shoulder, he forced her onto her back. Kate tried to lash out with her feet, but he drew back and slammed his fist into her left cheekbone. This time the world went silent and still.
It was as if she left her body for a moment. She could still see his face. His lips were pulled back into a snarl. Yellow teeth. Heavy whiskers. Greasy hair. She saw intent in his eyes, and she knew he wasn’t going to stop. That she would be hurt tonight, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
She looked at the man. “Why are you doing this?”
He glanced around, then licked his lips. “I ain’t never had me an uppity little cunt before.”
The ugly words penetrated her brain like a bullet. The meaning shocked and horrified. She could feel the adrenaline like an electric current, running through her body. Terror leaping like hot fingers.
The sound of tearing fabric snapped her back. He’d torn her T-shirt from her body with his fist. Sick horror spread through her. She wanted to cover herself, but couldn’t. Oh, God, please no! “Don’t,” she heard herself say. But the voice was little more than a moan.
“Shut the fuck up, you little cunt. You’re going to like this.”
He was breathing hard. Pressing against her. She could feel the hardness of his arousal against her hip and fe
lt a slow rise of nausea. Her arms were pinned behind her at an uncomfortable angle, the weight of their bodies causing great pain. He fisted her bra and yanked violently. Her entire body jolted as the fabric cut into her skin and then snapped. She saw him looking at her breasts, and part of her wanted to die. Oh, dear Lord, she couldn’t bear this.
She tried to twist away. She didn’t care if he hit her again. Anything would be better than having him touch her.
But her efforts were useless, and in the next instant his hands were on her breasts, squeezing and hurting.
Kate threw her head back and screamed. He hit her again, but she didn’t stop screaming. She felt her lip split. Felt her mouth fill with blood.
“Shut up!”
A terrible sound tore from her throat when he rammed his fist into her stomach. The breath left her lungs in a rush. She heard herself retch, tasted vomit at the back of her throat. Then he was stuffing her bra into her mouth. . . .
She lay still as he ripped her jeans from her body. Her panties tore away easily. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe he was going to hurt her this way. Rape didn’t happen to girls like Kate. It always happened to someone else.
She tried one last time to kick him, but he hit her again. In the stomach. Her left breast. Pain radiated through her entire body. She tried to twist away. But he hit her again, with his fist in the temple, and stars danced in her peripheral vision. She lay there dazed and hurting and terrified. She was keening, moaning, sobbing into her gag like an animal. She couldn’t see Kirsten and wondered if the same thing was happening to her. Maybe the fat man wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t let this happen.
“Open up, Katie. Sweet, sweet Katie.”
Then he was between her legs. Kate closed her eyes, tried to go someplace else in her mind. She couldn’t bear this. The horror of what he was doing to her.
Pain ripped through her as he tried to enter her. She screamed into her gag, but the sound was little more than a whimper. Stop! her mind cried out. Oh, dear God, make him stop!
But he didn’t stop. Pain burned like fire between her legs as he forced himself inside her. Shame and humiliation and the horror of what was happening exploded inside her. Then he began to move. He rasped horrible things as he violated her. “Pretty cunt. Tight little whore. Oh, yeah. Oh, Katie . . .”