THREE TIMES A LADY (21 page)

First things first, though.  Nicholas still needed to get the woman alone.

Hardly an insignificant hurdle to leap, at all.

***

Johnny’s Hideaway was a hip, eclectic, upscale joint – the kind of place that played music ranging anywhere from Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett and The Beach Boys to Madonna and Eminem and Rhianna.  A little something for everybody.  Just like Nicholas had a little something for Dinah Leach.  The reality television star would just need to wait a little bit longer now to find out exactly what his gift to her would be.  But it wouldn’t be the suspense killing her.  It would be Nicholas himself pulling off the dirty deed.

Fifty feet away out on the crowded dance floor, Dinah Leach shook her shimmy to the upbeat sounds of Lady Gaga – looking like a complete and total slut as she did so, of course.  As usual, the fame whore seemed to be
enjoying
the feeling of all the adoring eyeballs glued to her. 
Fake-ass celebrity bitch.
  With any luck at all, though, her fifteen minutes of fame would expire at just about the same time her worthless life did.  And the clock was ticking now.  Nicholas wondered if she could hear it.  It was getting louder.

Tick, tick, tick.

Nicholas stretched his neck six inches to the left and sipped ice water through a plastic straw; wetting his lips at the same time he whetted his enormous appetite for murder. 
Of course
Dinah Leach couldn’t hear the clock ticking.  She was much too consumed with her own celebrity to notice something like that.  Much too
full
of herself.  Still, Nicholas supposed it would have been difficult for
anybody
to hear a goddamn thing above the deafening music blasting over the fifty or so speakers stationed around Johnny’s Hideaway, vibrating the floor beneath his shiny black dress shoes so violently that it reminded him of standing on the platform of a busy subway station in New York City.

From his shielded position in the corner of the club, Nicholas watched Dinah Leach swivel her hips suggestively in perfect time to Gaga’s
Poker Face
.  The woman’s jeans looked expensive to him, and Nicholas had an eye trained to notice such things.  The fancy denim had no doubt cost Dinah Leach five hundred bucks at a bare minimum, and they’d obviously been tailoured to show off her very best asset.  Her
only
asset, really.  The only thing that anyone in the world really valued about her.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes as a pair of hulking, muscular black men wearing oversized Atlanta Falcons football jerseys and matching baseball caps moved forward to sandwich Dinah Leach out on the crowded dance floor, trying their damndest to get some of her undeserved fame to rub off on them. 

Nicholas smirked and took another sip of his ice water.  Didn’t these idiots know that fake celebrity came with its own fake gloss that never quite rubbed off, no matter how hard you tried?

Apparently not. 

Shaking his head, Nicholas lifted his wrist and checked his watch again.  One forty-two a.m. now.  Just a little bit longer until he could get this show on the road.  And the clock was still ticking.  He wondered if Dinah Leach could hear it yet.  It was barreling down on her like a goddamn
freight train
now.

Tick, tick, tick…

Dana’s eyes homed in like a powerful laser on the watch strapped around Nancy Lawson’s left wrist.  It was a Tag Heuer.

She blew out a slow breath and tried to control the jack-hammering of her heartbeat against her ribcage.  No use.  Nancy Lawson’s timepiece looked like a fairly expensive piece of jewellery to her – especially for someone who’d been complaining about money ten minutes earlier – but it wasn’t the cheap Mickey Mouse watch that the woman in the video had been wearing.

Dana shook herself and tried to calm down.  Wasn’t easy.  She closed her eyes and wondered if she’d
ever
recover from the trauma of her life-and-death struggle in her brother’s underground bunker.  She’d faced down other killers in the past, but never before had she felt this jumpy, this unsure of herself.  She was acting like a scared little rabbit right now when what she really needed to be acting like was a goddamn
lion
.  People’s lives depended on it.

‘Is everything OK, Agent Whitestone?’

Dana opened her eyes and pursed her lips.  Balling up the wet paper towels in her hand, she tossed them into a metal garbage receptacle two feet away.  ‘Actually, no, Miss Lawson,’ she said.  ‘Everything’s
not
OK.  Not even close.’ 

Dana paused then when the idea occurred to her.  Fuck it.  Worth a shot.  As long as she had Nancy Lawson here in the restroom with her, she might as well put their time to good use and take advantage of the impromptu meeting.  ‘I hate to bother you any further, ma’am,’ Dana said, ‘but I was wondering if you could help me out with something else.  It’ll only take a minute or two, I promise.’

The corner’s office employee looked hesitant.  A frown creased her flawlessly painted lips.  ‘Help you out with what, Agent Whitestone?  I think I’ve already done everything I can for you.’  The woman paused.  ‘Probably
more
than I should have, now that I think about it.  I want to help you out, I really do, but I also want keep my job. 
Need
to keep my job, as a matter of fact.  And there’s no point in pissing off Dr Johnson any more than he’s usually pissed off for no good reason.  He’s not exactly the kind of man who suffers slights lightly, if you know what I mean.’

Dana nodded and dug her cellphone from her pocket.  She flipped it open and covered the short distance between them.  ‘I know, Miss Lawson, but this is extremely important.  And I assure you Dr Johnson will never know about it.  It’ll be our little secret.’ 

She held up the screen so both women could see.  ‘I know you don’t like watching these things, Miss Lawson, but I was wondering if you could take a look at this autopsy video and see if you can identify the woman in it for me.  There’s nothing graphic in the video, I swear.  No cutting or anything like that.  Just take a look, OK?  Like I said before, it’ll only take a minute or two of your time.’

Lawson still didn’t look so sure.  ‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Agent Whitestone.’

Dana resisted the urge to scream.  But she really needed the woman’s help right now.  And she knew that there was nothing quite as effective as cold hard cash to persuade a hesitant person to reconsider his or her hard-line stance.  ‘There’s a monetary reward in it for you,’ Dana said quickly, remembering Lawson’s earlier consternation over being denied a raise in conjunction with her additional duties as the backup A/V person.  ‘I can offer you five hundred dollars right now for your help, no strings attached.  If you can help me out, great.  If not, you get the money anyway.  It’s a win-win situation for you any way you look at it.’

Just as Dana had suspected, Lawson’s ears perked up at the mention of money.  Pulling down the sleeves of her smart-looking blue blazer, the human-resources worker straightened her posture.  ‘Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to just
look
.’

Dana nodded.  ‘Nope.  Couldn’t hurt at all.  And you just might help me catch a killer.  Anyway, I want you to watch this video and tell me if you recognise the woman in it.’ 

Dana tapped the ‘play’ button on the touch-screen telephone and both she and Lawson looked on as the images flashed across the screen.  Lawson’s bright blue eyes went saucer-wide when the woman wearing the fancy dress mouthed the words ‘fuck you, Dana’ to the camera while holding up the picture of Nathan Stiedowe. 

When the video reached its end, Lawson shook her head emphatically.  ‘I’ve never seen that woman before in my life,’ she said, completely sure of herself.  ‘I’m very sorry, Agent Whitestone, but I’m
extremely
good with faces, and I know for a fact that I’ve never seen her before.’

Dana sighed and flipped shut her phone.  She hadn’t
really
expected Lawson to recognise the woman in the video, but at least the
possibility
had been there.  In any event, there went five hundred dollars of the taxpayers’ hard-earned money right down the toilet.  Wasteful government spending at its worst.

Dana put her cellphone back into her pocket and dug out a pen and notebook from her purse.  ‘It’s OK, Miss Lawson.  Thank you very much for taking the time to watch.  If you’ll just write down your address for me, I’ll make sure you get your check within the next week.’

Lawson took the pen and notebook Dana was holding out and scribbled down her address.  When she’d finished, she handed them back to Dana and asked, ‘How in the heck did that woman get into the building in the first place, Agent Whitestone?  That’s what’s bugging the crap out of me.  I mean, security’s not all that tight around here, but still…’

Dana shook her head, not especially interested in continuing the conversation any further.  She didn’t want to seem rude, but Lawson didn’t have any useful information to offer her, which made what basically amounted to small talk a complete and utter waste of her time.  A very
expensive
waste of her time.

‘I don’t know,’ Dana said, slipping out a business card from her purse and handing it over.  ‘That’s what I’m hoping to find out.  Anyway, if anything occurs to you later on I’d really appreciate it if you’d give me a call at the number on this card.  Any time.  Day or night.’

Lawson took the card and tucked it away inside her own purse.  ‘Absolutely, Agent Whitestone.  I’ll make I sure I do just that.’ 

Lawson paused again and looked sheepish.  ‘I feel kind of bad taking the money like this, considering the fact I didn’t help you out all that much.  Still, I’m not going to lie – this definitely helps me out.  Christmas is right around the corner and I’ve got five grandchildren I need to buy presents for.  Money is
always
tight this time of year.’

Dana winced internally at the twinge in her heart brought about by Lawson’s casual mention of grandchildren, wondering if
she
’d ever have grandchildren to spoil with Christmas presents.  To spend the holidays with.  To shower with her love and affection. 

Maybe if things worked out with Bradley’s adoption…

Dana chased away the thought with a quick shake of her head, not wanting to get too far ahead of herself here.  Before she could take care of someone else, she needed to learn how to take care of
herself
first.  And lately she hadn’t been doing a very bang-up job of that particular assignment.  ‘Nothing to feel bad about,’ Dana said.  ‘I really appreciate you taking the time to look for me.  It’s more than most people would do.’

Lawson lifted her delicate left wrist and checked her fancy watch.  ‘Well, I guess I should be getting back to work now.  My shift’s getting ready to wrap up for the night.’

Dana nodded.  ‘Of course.  Be careful driving home, ma’am.’ 

Dana paused, then she added, ‘From what I hear, it’s supposed to get cold out there tonight. 
Viciously
cold.’

Lawson smiled thinly.  ‘Hell, when you reach my age, Agent Whitestone, they’re
all
viciously cold nights.  Just remember you heard it here first, OK?’

And with that, the coroner’s office employee simply left the bathroom, five hundred dollars richer but without ever having used the facilities at all.

F
rom his unobtrusive position in the corner of the noisy nightclub, Nicholas watched a third huge black guy indelicately muscle his way in on the shameless
ménage-a-trois
taking place out on the crowded dance floor. 

Already sandwiched by the other two thugs from earlier, Dinah Leach didn’t seem to mind the added attention one little bit.  Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.  After all, why settle for just two pieces of cake when you could have
three
, right? 

Judging by the hair graying at the new guy’s temples, no doubt he was known on his block as an ‘O.G.’ – an ‘original gangster’.  One of those guys who didn’t seem to know that being ‘cool’ had passed him by long ago and had left him standing squarely on the pier of middle-aged poseur-hood.  

A moment or two later following the third guy’s appearance, the sounds of Lady Gaga faded away and the DJ flipped the wax over to
Bullet With A Name
by the heavy-metal group Nonpoint.  Almost comically, the three thugs paused as one and looked at each other in confusion.  Nicholas almost choked on his ice water as he fought back a sudden wave of laughter.  Obviously, they didn’t have the slightest
clue
of how to dance to white-people’s music.

Nicholas shook his head in bemusement, both at the thugs’ cartoonish reaction to the new music and also at the song selection itself.  The lyrics couldn’t have been any more appropriate if none other than Clive Barker himself had written them.  Because Nicholas had a bullet with Dinah Leach’s name on it, didn’t he?  Even if he would go with the knife tonight?  Of course he did.  His mother’s exacting plan might have called for ending Dinah Leach’s life with a blade, but just to be safe Nicholas had also tucked a.45-calibre handgun into his jacket pocket before leaving for the club that night.  A little added security to ensure that he lived up to Annabeth Preston’s
very
lofty expectations of him.