Dirty Devil Read online

  “You’re missing out. They’re going to be everywhere in the next decade. And Doug will be a gazillionaire.”

  Doug had been under house arrest up until the last couple of months for hacking into the CIA database, but he’d been given some leniency on his sentence due to the fact he’d helped us crack the codes my father had used to hide information. Since my father had been a wanted man by the entire alphabet soup of agencies, Doug’s freedom had been well worth it in their eyes.

  “You can have the downstairs suite,” Jack told Carver. “We’ll put Doug on the second floor. He can’t do too much damage there, and I’ll warn the cleaning lady.”

  “I should’ve bought more groceries,” I said as Doug carried in all the bags in one trip. “I forgot how much he eats.”

  “That’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Carver said. “Doug was staying with us after the robot incident at my sister’s, but Doug ate all the food so Michelle banished us to your house.”

  “Can we order a pizza?” Doug asked.

  “I thought you were making a sandwich,” I said.

  “I am, but that’s just an appetizer. Hey, do you mind if I look at your toaster? That’s a nice one.”

  “No,” Jack and I said simultaneously.

  “I don’t want any robots in this house,” I said. “I mean it. The second my electric toothbrush comes alive, I’m coming after you with my rib spreader.”

  “Yikes,” Doug said. “I forgot how spunky you are. I missed that. I hadn’t thought of an electric toothbrush. Great idea.”

  “Glad I could help,” I said. I was already exhausted, and Jack looked like he was in shock. The Carver boys could do that to a person. “The address is on the refrigerator. Order from Jimmy’s. They have the best pizza.”

  “Right on,” Doug said.

  “Were you able to find any like crimes in the database?” Jack asked Carver.

  “Hand me Magnolia,” Carver said, rolling his chair up to the kitchen table. “I got several hits on different elements.”

  I couldn’t say I was too surprised to hear this. There were more than two hundred thousand unsolved murders in the nation. But what most people didn’t know was that there were anywhere between twenty-five to fifty active serial killers from year to year. It sometimes took years for them to be caught after they’d killed multiple victims. But twenty percent of them were never caught at all.

  Carver opened his laptop. “Come on, baby. It’s time to do a little work. We can play later.”

  I shook my head, and then my mouth dropped open in surprise when Magnolia answered back.

  “Will you reward me if I’m good, darling?” she asked in a sexy Southern drawl.

  “What the hell?” Jack asked, taking a step back.

  “Stay on task,” Carver said, his cheeks going pink. “We’ve got an audience.”

  “Hey, Maggie,” Doug said, biting into his sandwich.

  “Douglas,” she purred. “Always a pleasure. I’ve missed your fingers on me. You have a very creative…touch.”

  Doug choked on his sandwich and I reached over to pound him on the back.

  “I don’t know what’s happening here,” I said. “But I’m very uncomfortable. I’m only used to Carver talking to his computers. Not the other way around.”

  “I’m the newest model, and I came with some upgrades,” she said. “You must be Dr. Graves. Ben programmed your voice and stats into me so I can recognize you.”

  “Wow,” I said, arching a brow at Carver.

  “Magnolia, can we please get back on track?” Carver asked. “We came to work today. There’s a killer on the loose.”

  “Statistically, there are always multiple killers on the loose,” she said. “But I can bring up the data we discussed earlier. Would you like me to project it onto the wall?”

  “Not right now,” Carver said. “I just want to give them the basics.”

  “As you wish, Master,” she said.

  “That’s enough, Magnolia. I’ll put you in lockdown if you keep being sassy.”

  “You’d punish me for being who you created me to be?” she asked, and then it sounded like she clucked her tongue in admonishment. “What if I were the one to lock you down? It would be simple to keep my screen blank. To not answer your calls for help. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

  Carver groaned. “I’ve created a monster.”

  “No, sugar. I’m a masterpiece. Now let’s get down to business. I’m mad at you right now, and you’re going to have to work hard to make it up to me later.”

  “Fine,” Carver said, put out. “Bring up the data.”

  I tried not to smile. I’d never actually seen anyone get the best of Carver before.

  “We have several matches of killers using high-gauge wire, both for strangulation purposes and restraining the victim. I didn’t get any hits on using a cattle prod, but I did get a couple that used the high-gauge wire, and there were more than I’m comfortable with who were disemboweled postmortem.”

  “What about the scarecrow angle?” Jack asked.

  “There wasn’t a match for a scarecrow,” Carver said, “But I’ve got a victim from eighteen months ago who had been strapped to the radio tower on top of the Richmond City Hall. The arms were splayed and the vic was tied with nylon rope.”

  “Was he gutted?” I asked.

  “She,” Carver said. “It was a she. And yes. She had a singular postmortem cut across the lower abdomen. She was a nurse at the local hospital. Never made it home from her shift.”

  “Do you have the autopsy report?” I asked. “I’d like to look at it.”

  “I’ll send it to your email,” he said.

  “Do a full background on her,” Jack said. “And I’ll need the detective who worked the case. I’m going to want his case file. Who are the other victims?”

  “The two that most likely fit your profile are Dr. Steven Carlisle and a Carson Pritchett. The high-gauge wire was used on both, and both were gutted, though Pritchett was gutted while he was alive.”

  “Ouch,” I said.

  “A doctor and a nurse,” Jack said. “Same hospital?”

  “The nurse was working at Heartland General in Richmond at the time of her murder eighteen months ago. The doctor was killed in Arlington not far from the hospital he worked at almost four years ago. He was found strung up to a rafter in his garage. It wasn’t the kill site, but he took more time disguising the disembowelment. He dressed Carlisle in a jacket before he strung him up and posed him, and then zipped him up so when first responders arrived and took him down his guts spilled at their feet.”

  “Killers never think about the people who have to deal with their victims,” I said.

  “Thoughtless bastards,” Carver said.

  “What about the other guy?” Jack asked. “Pritchett.”

  “He was killed almost six years ago. Lived in D.C. His body was found tied to a chain link fence behind a Chinese restaurant. His hands were bound with wire, but he was gutted antemortem. No one heard any screams, and the ME found traces of a powerful tranquilizer in his system.”

  “That’s a lot of time and space between victims,” I said. “And none of them are even in the same city.”

  “Stranger things have happened,” Carver said. “There are too many coincidences for them to not be related in some way. I’ll send you all of the autopsy reports. Magnolia has a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind I’d like to work in your office. I think she’ll like the setup. She likes to show off a bit, and I need to get back into her good graces.”

  “You need therapy, is what you need,” Jack said. “And don’t do anything creepy in my office with that computer.”

  “I would never do anything creepy,” Carver said, affronted. “I’m a happily married man.”

  Jack held the disc we’d gotten from the Judge’s Chamber and passed it to Carver. “This is security footage from the parking lot where Donnelly disappeared. See if you can work your magic and g
et anything from it.”

  “I’m on it,” Carver said. “Come on, Doug. Stop shoving stuff in your face. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Does Doug need to be looking at crime scene photos?” I asked once they left the room.

  “Probably not,” Jack said with a sigh. “But I’m sure Carver will handle it.”

  “I had a surprise visitor today,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “I already got a dozen calls from people saying you and Floyd got into it in the grocery store,” he said.

  “I didn’t punch him,” I said.

  “That’s an improvement.”

  “But I did roll over his foot with the buggy.” I smiled thinly. “And I wasn’t even sorry about it. But to be fair, I did try to go around him, but he kept blocking my path. I really think he’s gone crazy. You need to be careful. He’s not going to let up until he destroys you.”

  “I’m not worried about Floyd, and neither should you be.”

  “Fine, but if he tells me again that all this tension between us is because we didn’t finish what we started all those years ago, I can’t promise you he’s not going to get another bloody nose.”

  “Fair enough,” Jack said. “I support this.”

  “But Floyd wasn’t what I was going to tell you about,” I said. “I drove by the funeral home on my way back, and there was a car parked in the driveway and a man standing under the portico.”

  “And of course you got out to see who it was, not thinking he could’ve been dangerous.”

  “There’s not a lot that scares me anymore after having my dad pop up like a damned daisy all the time. Besides, this was a very nice car. I bet everyone on the street could give a detailed description and the license plate number.”

  “Who was it?” Jack asked.

  “Michael Donnelly,” I said. “John’s son. He’s a nice kid. Hurting over his father’s death, and he doesn’t quite know why.”

  Jack nodded sympathetically. “Did you discover anything?”

  “There’s no love lost between him and Kimmie,” I said.

  “That seems to be a pattern,” he said.

  “Michael said she couldn’t have done it because she’s too stupid. But he said José could’ve been a contender. Apparently José fancied himself lord of the manor when Donnelly was out of pocket, which was most of the time. And he also said his dad used to have a partner, a Kevin Fischer. But they had a falling out several years back, and they split the firm and went their separate ways. Michael said Fischer was his godfather.”

  “Nice,” Jack said.

  “And I realized something else too while I was there.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re cheating this case because we don’t like John Donnelly.”

  Jack jerked back, surprised by what I’d said. “You’re kidding. We’ve been working this case solid since we found the body.”

  I shook my head. “Not like we usually do. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since his body was discovered, and we’ve barely made any headway. We don’t even have a murder board set up. I don’t like Donnelly by reputation, but I know you knew him personally.”

  Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re right,” he said. “I hated that son of a bitch. He tried to buy me when I first got elected. Kept upping the price and threatening to make my life a living hell if we didn’t ‘work together.’ There was a time during that first year when I thought he’d make good on the promise. I couldn’t make any headway. Warrants were blocked. Things like that. And then I realized I had as much power as Donnelly himself did. I also had a longer history here and my family name to back me up. But if anyone else had gotten elected to the seat they would’ve been Donnelly’s for the taking.

  “I’ve been dragging my feet on this one,” he said. “I didn’t realize it until you said it just now. Why don’t we go pay a visit to José, and see if we can track down Kevin Fischer?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “And maybe we can stop by for ice cream on the way back. I was so mad at Floyd I left the store without it.”

  8

  We made the drive back to High Pointe where John Donnelly lived in Jack’s black truck since his unit was in the shop. Jack’s truck wasn’t just a regular truck. It was black and chrome and sexy, and it cost more than I made in a year. Apparently, my Suburban didn’t give the impression he was looking for.

  The front of the house wasn’t in chaos as it had been when we’d been there the day before. There were no cars parked on the arched driveway, and I couldn’t see through the gate that led to the garages.

  “I hope Kimmie is too grief stricken to take callers,” I said, making Jack snort.

  “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks she’s already got her trip to Aruba rescheduled and someone to take Donnelly’s place,” he said, ringing the bell.

  “Cold,” I said. “But that’s a sucker’s bet.”

  “She doesn’t strike me as the warm and fuzzy type. A woman like that is looking out for her best interest, and her best interest just died.”

  Jack rang the doorbell again when no one answered.

  “Maybe no one is home,” I said.

  “Someone is here. I saw movement in the window before we got out of the car.” He knocked this time.

  We heard the locks click open and the door finally opened. “This is not a good time,” José said, looking us both up and down. “I have many things to do before everyone arrives in the morning.”

  “We won’t take up much of your time,” Jack said affably. “We’re trying to find Mr. Donnelly’s killer, and the sooner we can talk to everyone, the sooner that will happen.”

  José stared at us for a few seconds before saying, “Of course,” and letting us in. “I’d prefer if we spoke in my own quarters. There are always eyes and ears in the main house.”

  “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” Jack said.

  We’d not gotten the full house tour when we’d come to speak to Kimmie the day before, but José led us through the kitchen—which was as opulent and white as the rest of the house—and out the French doors that led to the pool and garage. There was a set of narrow iron stairs between the pool house and the garage, and he led us up to his apartment.

  I could see why José put up with John Donnelly. The apartment above the six-car garage was nicer than anything I’d ever lived in before I married Jack. It was a massive open space with lots of windows and light, and a view of both the pool and the golf course. There was color and warmth here, and José led us to a pub table he had nestled against the window while he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  “You said you were getting the house ready before everyone arrives in the morning?” Jack asked.

  “The will reading,” José said. “I contacted Mr. Donnelly’s attorney yesterday, and he told me he’d been directed to read the will as soon as possible after Mr. Donnelly’s death. He told me to be ready to receive guests at eight in the morning.”

  José poured himself a generous mug of coffee, but didn’t bother offering any to us. But my eyebrows rose when he took his coffee mug over to the small liquor cabinet and poured a hefty dose of something inside.

  “What about Ms. Kloss?” I asked. “Where’s she?”

  José’s smile was thin and wicked. “When I alerted Mr. Fischer that Mr. Donnelly had been killed, I might have mentioned that she was making noise about taking the things in the house that belonged to her. He actually sent someone to the house to remove her from the premises until the will can be read. They made sure she didn’t take anything but a small case with her clothes in it. She was not happy. She’d been planning to leave for Aruba today and threw a fit the lawyer wouldn’t tell her what was in the will so she could leave.”

  Jack had called that one right.

  “She’s the one you need to be looking at,” he said. “She might act like she doesn’t have a brain in her head, but she was clever enough to worm her way into Mr. Donnelly’s life
and rack up hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of bills. He mentioned several times about putting her on a spending limit, and she would lose her mind whenever he did. Yelling and screaming about how she only spent so much because he was always working and never home. And then he’d let her get her way. But I know he was tired of it. And he was tired of her making noise about wedding plans.

  “I’ve been here for twelve years. Kimmie is not the first woman he’s moved in or out. They’re always the same.”

  “Julie Burkett?” Jack asked.

  José paused for a moment. “No, Julie was different. They were an odd pairing, and I was never sure what Mr. Donnelly saw in her. She’s not beautiful. But she’s very smart. Very calculating. These women who Mr. Donnelly let into his life were all after something. And she was no different.”

  “What did she want?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. Information maybe. Mr. Donnelly lost a couple of high-profile clients shortly before he broke things off with her.”

  “He broke things off?” I asked.

  “Of course,” José said. “No one breaks up with Mr. Donnelly. He’s the golden goose.”

  “Yet, he stayed at her house both Monday and Tuesday night last week,” Jack said.

  “Why shouldn’t he?” José asked. “She was, I think, comfortable for him. And I’m sure Kimmie is as selfish in the bedroom as she is in other aspects of her life. Maybe Ms. Burkett was more attentive to his physical needs. It’s not for me to know.”

  “Did he tell you that’s where he was staying those nights?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “And did you tell Kimmie that’s where he was?”

  José smiled and it wasn’t nice. “I might have let it slip. I can’t say I’m proud of it, but she’s a horrible woman. The sooner she moved on from Mr. Donnelly the better.”

  “I believe the feeling is mutual,” Jack said. “She mentioned she tried to have you fired for watching her out by the pool.”

  José went into a fit of laughter. I looked at Jack and raised my brows. I didn’t know what to think of José. I couldn’t get a read on him. I just knew I didn’t trust him.