Booby Trap (12 page)

“So it’s just a coincidence that Lisa’s sister was a recent murder victim?”

I looked up at Dev and quickly looked away. No matter how I tried, I knew I wouldn’t be able to boldly lie to this man and get away with it—on many levels. He was professionally trained to read people, and he knew me too well. He’d know I was lying in a nanosecond. I also respected him too much to try. But I still didn’t think it was a great idea to let him know about Brian Eddy and Lil.

I looked back up at Dev. “No, it’s not a coincidence. Part of helping my friend involved talking to Laurie Luke’s sister. But,” I quickly added, “I assure you that I am
not
looking for the Blond Bomber.”

“Who is your friend, and what is the favor?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Odeliaaaaa.” My name came out of him from his gut, like an earthquake rumble from the center of the earth. “How about I take you in for questioning?”

“You wouldn’t!”

He fixed his eyes on mine. Oh yes, he would. I twitched my nose at him.

Dev brought two cups of coffee over to the table. We had moved to the hospital cafeteria. It made me think of a time past when he and I sat in this same room discussing the murder of my friend Sophie London. Dev’s wife had been a patient here then. Now, here we were again, once more talking about murder.

“So, what’s up?” he asked after taking his first sip. I played with my cup but didn’t drink. I was busy trying to figure out what I was going to say without spilling the whole pot of beans.

“A friend of mine has a theory about the Blond Bomber.”

“But you said you weren’t looking for the Blond Bomber.”

“I’m not. She’s worried that someone she knows
might
be the killer. She doesn’t have any proof that he is, but she doesn’t have any proof that he’s not. She wants me to find proof that he’s not.” I fiddled more with my coffee mug. “So, see, I’m not really looking for the Blond Bomber, just proof that this guy is not him.”

“And who is this guy?”

“That I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

“Odelia.” He narrowed his eyes at me. I held firm.

“I mean it, Dev. If I tell you, and the police haul him in and it leaks to the press, it could ruin him. My friend doesn’t want that.” Dev kept me in his sights. Pushing my muddled brain to perform,
I pled my case. “Remember that guy who was first accused of bombing the Olympics in Atlanta?”

“Richard Jewell.”

“Yes, that’s the man. Turned out he was innocent, but that suspicion hung over him the rest of his life. People don’t remember the innocent part, just the suspect part.”

Dev took a couple gulps of coffee while he gave the issue some thought. I sipped my own and waited.

“So,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “are you willing to tell me why your friend suspects this guy of
possibly
being the serial killer?”

“He knew most of the victims from online chat. I don’t know yet if he knew Laurie Luke.”

“But you intend to find out.”

“That’s part of it, yes. Though from talking with Lisa, Laurie didn’t strike me as the sort who spent time idly chatting online.”

Dev considered me in silence. I squirmed under his gaze, relieved when he finally spoke. “If those women frequented the same chat rooms, it’s quite possible a lot of men knew them all.”

“And met them in person?”

Dev raised an eyebrow. “You know for a fact that this guy met them?”

“My friend said he told her he did, at least a couple of them.”

“Unfortunately, all of the dead women were meeting men online and setting up dates, including the teen. And I’m sure some jokers are out there, claiming they knew them.” He drained his coffee. “Just because the papers claim an Internet connection doesn’t mean there is one, Odelia. We don’t tell the media everything.”

“Speaking of Lisa, did she say why she tried to kill herself? Did she leave a note?”

“That was a very clunky and obvious change in subject, even for you.” Dev smiled at me for the first time since I’d rushed into Lisa’s hospital room. “And don’t think for a minute we’re through on the subject of the Blond Bomber, but Lisa did leave a note. She’s claiming responsibility for her sister’s death.”

“Her responsibility? That doesn’t make sense.”

Dev shrugged. “Apparently, it was Lisa who was chatting online, not Laurie. And Lisa was passing out her sister’s photo as her own.”

I sank back against my chair. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.” Dev got up. “You want more coffee?” I shook my head. He refilled his own mug and returned to our table.

“We talked to her a few minutes before she fell asleep. She’s sure if she hadn’t done that, her sister would still be alive. Said she told men online she worked at Hoag Hospital and thinks the killer stalked the hospital until he matched the photo.”

I leaned forward. “Do you believe that?”

He took a sip of coffee and shook his head as he swallowed. “No.” He paused and pulled out a pack of gum, fiddling with the wrapper. “There’s been another body found in Laguna Canyon, very early this morning, about dawn. It’s probably all over the news by now.”

“The Blond Bomber?”

Dev looked away, then back to me, then away again, forgetting about the gum in his hand. He was obviously thinking something over. “He wrote something on the body.”

“
Whore
, like the others?”

“No. This time it was different.” Dev looked back at me. “This time, he wrote
Last one not mine
.”

“But what does it mean?” My mind whirred like a roulette wheel until the little ball that was my brain stopped on a possible answer. “Oh my gawd, Dev. Does this mean the Blond Bomber didn’t kill Laurie Luke?”

“The killer’s definitely trying to tell us something.” Dev looked directly at me, eyeball to eyeball. “For reasons I’m not going to disclose, we’ve always thought the Luke girl was a copycat. Now we’re pretty damn sure.”

My eyes popped wide open as my brain went into another spinning action and landed on another possibility. I swallowed hard. “This last girl, was she also a nurse?”

“Yeah, in a doctor’s office—name’s Amber.”

The hand clutching my coffee mug started shaking ever so slightly. Dev noticed it immediately.

“Damn it, Odelia, please tell me you have no connection to this girl.”

There was no doubt
about it: Amber the dead nurse and Amber of Dr. Eddy’s office were one and the same. Dev confirmed it after I told him that I just had an appointment with Dr. Brian Eddy, and he had a blond bombshell nurse named Amber.

He had looked at me with frank skepticism. “You simply met this woman during a doctor’s appointment?”

I nodded.

Dev unwrapped the gum in his hand and popped it into his mouth. He gave it a few thoughtful chews before speaking again. “Isn’t that just too much of a coinkydink?”

I didn’t care for the sarcasm in his voice.

“What are you saying, Dev? I went to see a doctor. It just so happens this poor woman was his nurse, and she was memorable, a complete knockout.”

“Did you ever meet Laurie Luke?”

“No.”

“How about Crystal Lee Harper?”

“No.”

“Ah-ha! But you know who Crystal Lee Harper was, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. One of the killer’s victims. I read the paper and listen to the news just like everyone else, Dev.”

With great reluctance, Dev gave up his questioning of me and we went back to Lisa’s room. Kirk was awake now, standing in front of the window, looking out. Lisa was still asleep. Dev introduced me and left, but not before ordering me to rethink whatever I was doing or involved with, and to rethink telling him whatever I knew or might know.

With Amber dead, I
was
rethinking everything. Last night Knotdead had told Perfect4u that he had ended his current relationship that same night. He hadn’t disclosed who he was seeing, but thanks to La Tanya, I knew that he was involved with Amber, if not possibly others. Had Brian Eddy ended their relationship with murder, or was Amber’s death just an unfortunate
coinkydink
? My gut, rocking and rolling now from nerves, was still telling me that Brian Eddy was not the Blond Bomber, but possible evidence to the contrary had now presented itself. Should I tell Dev or wait a little while longer? But what if another woman died? What then?

A thought occurred to me. I stepped out of Lisa’s room and hit Dev’s speed dial number on my cell phone.

“Dev,” I said, as soon as he answered, “do you folks have any idea when Amber was killed?”

“If you two just had a
chance
meeting, why would you care?”

Sigh.

“It could help me prove that my friend’s suspicions about the Blond Bomber are wrong.” I paused, then added, “And I promise you that if the evidence points to this person as the killer, you will be the very first person I tell.”

Now it was Dev’s turn to sigh. “It’s not exact, of course, but the M.E. thinks she died sometime between eight and midnight.”

“Eight and midnight,” I repeated. “Hmmm. You can’t pin that down a little more?”

“This isn’t TV, Odelia, this is real life and a real murder.” If Dev wasn’t such a gentleman, I’m sure he would have hung up on me, but instead, he just probed. “Does this prove or disprove your friend’s theory?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think it might put her suspicions to rest.”

“Good. The sooner you’re out of the favor business, the better.”

Lisa was awake when I returned to the room. Kirk was back in the chair at the side of her bed, holding her hand. He was dressed in jeans and a white tee shirt with a heavy denim shirt worn open over the tee shirt. His blond hair was unkempt; his face, which sported a few days’ growth, was distorted in anguish. I remained at the door, not wanting to intrude.

“Please forgive me, Lisa.” Kirk’s voice was ragged when he spoke.

“Forgive you?” she asked in a weak voice. “I’m the one who needs forgiving.” Lisa closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at him again. “How can you even stand to be near me after what I’ve done?”

“You did nothing wrong, Lisa. You have to believe that. I’m …” Kirk stopped when he noticed me at the door.

Lisa looked in my direction and gave me a small smile. “Odelia.”

I approached the bed. “How are you feeling, Lisa?”

Kirk released her hand and sat back in his chair. His eyes were hollow, his face like chalk. Losing his fiancée and now nearly her sister had obviously taken their toll.

“Horrible, that’s how I feel.” Her voice was raspy as she spoke.

“Detective Frye is a friend of mine. He told me you’re going to be fine.”

“I feel horrible because I’m alive, Odelia. Because I failed … like I fail at everything.” The words came out of her like bile, harsh and bitter.

“Don’t say that, Lisa.” Kirk was once more holding her hand. Lisa slipped it out of his grasp.

“It’s the truth, Kirk.
I’m
the reason Laurie was murdered.
I
should be dead, not her. I’d do anything to trade places.”

Lisa looked at me. “I was the one talking to men on the Internet, not Laurie. I gave out her picture instead of my own.” She started to sob. “I led that monster to her.” She turned her face away, trying to bury it in the pillow.

“Shhh.” I plucked a tissue from a small box on the nightstand and gently dabbed at her cheeks. “You did no such thing.”

“Please, Lisa,” Kirk begged with tears in his own eyes. “Don’t talk like that. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

Kirk’s last comment caught my attention, and I shot a curious glance at him, which he noticed.

“I mean, I shouldn’t have left Laurie alone so much. I should have insisted that she come with me on that last trip.”

Kirk got up from the chair and started pacing. I continued to study him. He seemed nervous and agitated. Granted, he’d just found Lisa half dead and was still grieving for Laurie, but to my thinking that should make him sad, not nervous. But then people show grief in different ways.

“But I did, Odelia! It’s no one’s fault but mine. That should be my grave, not Lisa’s.”

I sat down in the chair vacated by Kirk and continued to blot at Lisa’s tears as if she were a child and I her mother. I offered her another tissue, and she blew her nose. The young woman was devastated. Given her earlier state, Dev probably hadn’t told her about the latest murder, or thought it best not to. I wondered how much I should divulge. I wanted to give Lisa some comfort, but until the police knew who did murder Laurie, it still could have been someone Lisa chatted with online.

Like Lil, Lisa had given out someone else’s photo and assumed a different identity, and even though it probably hadn’t led to Laurie’s murder, it still had come back to bite Lisa on the ass emotionally.

A nurse came in to check on Lisa and wasn’t happy to find her upset. It was my cue to head back to the office. As much as I wanted to stick close to the grieving woman, I did have a job to do back at Woobie. I also wanted to chat up Kirk a bit and noticed him leaving. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

“Lisa, I have to return to my office.” I spoke in a hurry, one eye on the departing back of Kirk Thomas. “How about I drop by later today?”

She looked at me with eyes full of despair. “I’ve caused you enough trouble, Odelia. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“Let’s put it this way: would you like for me to visit you later?”

She nodded, her eyes downcast.

“Then it’s a done deal. I don’t know exactly when, but I’ll make sure I stop by before I head home tonight. Okay?”

Again, a small nod.

Catching up with Kirk at the elevator, I stood next to him while we waited. He seemed ready to jump out of his skin.

“I’m so glad you stopped by Lisa’s this morning, Kirk. You saved her life.”

He shook his rugged, handsome head and dug his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “Trust me, I’m no hero.” Without looking at me, he continued. “I really didn’t want to see Lisa. Haven’t been able to since Laurie died. I purposely went by the apartment when I thought she’d be at work. I just wanted to get the damn cat.”

“I have Muffin.” Kirk looked at me, surprised. “Lisa asked me to foster the cat because she couldn’t bear to be around it. Reminded her too much of her sister.” I paused, not sure I wanted to say my next words. “Would you like her?”

Kirk Thomas stood frozen for a minute, his eyes rolling around in his head as his brain considered my question. He finally returned his focus to me. “If you don’t mind keeping the cat for a bit, I’d appreciate it. Lisa left me a voice mail a week ago, saying she couldn’t care for it and to come get it. So, that’s what I was doing. But I don’t really have a decent place for it.”

“Muffin can stay with me and my husband as long as you need her to. We have two other animals and they’re getting along fine, so it’s no trouble at all.”

He mumbled a thank-you. Shifting from foot to foot, he punched the down button over and over. I wanted to reach out to stop him. He was making
me
nervous. Something was tormenting this man, and I was beginning to think it wasn’t just grief. Honestly, he seemed guilty. Like Lisa, he obviously held himself responsible for Laurie’s death.

The elevator came. Two people were inside, one holding a bouquet of flowers. They barely had time to move toward the door when Kirk pushed his way in. I waited until the others were out of the way before entering. As soon as the doors closed, I took my shot at speaking with Kirk.

“Kirk, what did you mean when you told Lisa that you were to blame for Laurie’s death?”

The question obviously caught him off guard, and it took him a few heartbeats to respond. He still didn’t look at me.

“I’m a wildlife photographer and travel a lot, especially out of the country. Sometimes Laurie came with me. The day she was killed, I was in Africa. She’d wanted to go with me, but I couldn’t take her.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple noticeably moving. “Maybe if I had found a way, none of this would have happened.”

The elevator stopped at the lobby, and we both got off. I reached out and touched Kirk’s arm before he could dash off. He glanced at me before looking away again. “You and Lisa are not to blame for what happened. Someone else killed Laurie, not one of you.”

Kirk’s eyes darted about the lobby. This wasn’t just a case of guilt. He was afraid of something. No, not afraid—petrified.

“You seem like a nice lady, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.” He finally let his eyes come to rest on my face briefly. “Do me a favor? Stay close to Lisa. She needs all the friends she can get right now.”

Before I could respond, Kirk Thomas headed for the nearest door. Once there, he broke into a run towards the parking lot.

Maybe Kirk
was
responsible for Laurie’s death. The way he was behaving made me wonder if he even did it himself. But he’d said he was in Africa when she was murdered, and alibis like that are easy to check and confirm. No, if he said he was in Africa, I had no doubt he was, but I also had no doubt that he knew something about his fiancée’s death.

And dollars to donuts, this was one woman I was pretty sure Dr. Brian Eddy didn’t kill.