Darkness Calls. Caridad Pineiro

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      “Think you could dig up a little more on her? Ask around?” Diana asked, and tucked the prescription paper into her jacket pocket.

      Maggie sensed there was more to Diana’s interest. “For personal or business reasons?”

      “A little of both. For business reasons—I want to know what kind of doctor she is. Whether she’s on the up-and-up.”

      “And for the personal?” Maggie asked, one fine auburn-colored eyebrow raised.

      “She’s involved with a suspect. How involved, Maggie? Would she lie to protect him?” Diana explained.

      Maggie eyed her carefully and finally nodded. “The second question—the one about being involved—sounds like it’s still business? Unless of course…is he handsome?”

      Handsome was an understatement, Diana thought but wouldn’t admit. She shrugged and said, “I guess.”

      Maggie chuckled and shook her head, clearly aware of Diana’s subterfuge. “Must be major-league handsome, but despite that, or maybe because of it, I will ask around for you. See what I can find out.”

      Diana slipped off the examining table and faced her friend once more. “Think you can do me another favor?”

      Maggie let out a huff, but it was more playful than anything. “What now?”

      “Do you think that liberated woman inside of you could talk to my poor partner? Ask him to have lunch or dinner? Put him out of his misery?”

      “What makes you think—”

      “I know you too well, Mags, just like you know me. Do yourself a favor. He’s a really nice guy.”

      “Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment,” Maggie noted, and slipped an arm around her shoulders as she walked Diana back to her outer office.

      David was still there, waiting patiently. He jumped off the sofa and grinned at them. “Ready to go?”

      “. I just can’t wait to hit that computer and start mousing through all those entries,” Diana teased. “Eat lunch at my desk while I pore over a stack of details about sex offenders and murderers and, of course, review the ME’s reports again.”

      “We could always go out for a quick bite,” David said, obviously not enjoying the prospect of eating over stomach-churning crime-scene photos.

      “No, not me. I’d like to get some things done before Latimer shows up this afternoon. But you two go ahead,” she said, and glanced at Maggie, who grinned and piped in with “If you don’t want to go alone, I’d be more than happy to join you.”

      David looked from one woman to the other, a little flummoxed by Maggie’s offer. Then he grinned and nodded. “That would be great. We can bring Diana back a sandwich so she doesn’t have to eat fossilized food from the vending machine.”

      “See you at twelve, then?” Maggie prompted, and after David confirmed the time, they returned to Diana’s office.

      They talked over how they would handle Latimer’s interrogation later that afternoon, then put in a call to the local detective heading up the NYPD part of the investigation so he could join them. It was close to noon when they finished, and despite her earlier plans, Diana needed to fill the prescription Maggie had given her. “I’m going to get this,” she said, waving the small slip of paper in the air, “and grab a sandwich down at the deli. Meet me back here for Latimer’s interrogation.”

      “Will do, Special Agent in Charge.” David waved as he left the room.

      Diana grabbed her purse and headed out, picking up her medication at a local drugstore and buying a premade sandwich at the corner deli. Back at her desk, she popped one of the painkillers, slugged it down with a mouthful of Coke and laid out her sandwich so she could work while she ate.

      She started with the crime-scene photos, reviewing those of the locations first while she ate her sandwich. Despite years of training and investigations, she hadn’t grown desensitized enough to eat while examining the more grisly photos. She then turned to the remaining evidence, carefully reviewing all the details of the injuries inflicted and the places where the killer had dumped the bodies.

      The toxicology reports from the medical examiner’s office had revealed the presence of flunitrazepam residues, what was more commonly known on the street as a “roofie”—the date-rape drug. If the killer administered the drug in a drink at the club, he’d have had twenty or thirty minutes before it took effect. Enough time to convince his victim to leave voluntarily.

      Where he took the women had to be as equally isolated as the places where he left the bodies. But the evidence pointed to a more populated location. She glanced at the comments about the sheets in which the victims had been wrapped. They were the kind that hotels used and bore the traces of commercial laundering. The ME indicated the sheets had been clean and contained no latent prints nor hair or skin samples other than those of the victims.

      But they did have DNA from the killer. Body fluids had been found on the women’s bodies, although he had not sexually violated them.

      She closed up the files, shut her eyes and leaned back in her chair, trying to create an impression in her mind of the kind of man who would do this. There was anger there, both at the women and at himself. He probably hated that he became aroused by what he was doing. When the arousal became too intense…It likely gave him a sense of control to be able to curb his response. It gave him a high to shame his victims and degrade them with their inability to stop him from taking pleasure. When that no longer satisfied him…

      Could Ryder Latimer be that kind of man? she wondered. She didn’t doubt that he was capable of violence, although he had restrained himself during their altercation. But Latimer had lied and he was hiding something. Diana’s gut told her that it was a big something. And that she could easily have her answer by forcing Ryder to submit to a DNA test, only…

      She wanted to believe in him. She wanted to think that he would show up that afternoon and provide the answers she needed. Restore the connection she had sensed last night.

      Rousing herself, she shook her head and turned to her computer to run through all the databases at her disposal.

      By the time she finished, nearly three hours later, her head was swimming. None of the materials had brought her any closer to the identity of the killer. Nor had they brought her any closer to eliminating Ryder Latimer as a suspect, although…

      Her intuition kicked in again, screaming not to be ignored. Telling her that she had to keep an eye on him, but not because of the murders.

      Ryder took one last look in the mirror, imagining as he had for over a century that there was an image staring back at him. It made shaving a bitch, not to mention straightening one’s tie.

      Slapping on some Chanel aftershave, he inhaled the light, citrusy scent. It helped mask the odors of the people with whom he came into contact. Odors that sometimes caused him problems.

      Diana wore no scent. Around her, all he smelled was the clean, enticing allure of a woman. Plus leather and СКАЧАТЬ