Retribution (20 page)

There was a long pause. She reached for her pack of Marlboros, now almost empty, on the table outside. Then his voice broke the silence.

‘Nope. No way. I’m coming up, so let me in.’

28

It took about three minutes before she heard the ring of the bell followed by the rap of knuckles against the front door. She looked out the peephole and saw Dominick leaning against the door frame, looking down around his feet. He was still dressed in his dress shirt and slacks, with his sleeves rolled up and his tie half off and his collar open. His gold FDLE badge hung on a chain around his neck and his gun was holstered to his side. She unset the alarm and unlocked the door, opening it just a little more than halfway.

He smiled at her, and she could tell he was exhausted. In his hand he held a thin stack of white paper stapled together at a corner. He waved it through the door.

‘Hey, thanks for bringing this by, Dom.’ She took the paper from his hand. ‘You didn’t have to do that. I would have picked it up.’ She didn’t invite him in.

‘You said you wanted it today, and so I got it for you today. Last I checked, I did it with three hours to spare, too. It’s only nine.’

‘I appreciate it. How did you even know where I live, though?’ The thought that she could be found made her uneasy. She protected her address and gave it to no one. It was also exempt from disclosure on all public records because she was a prosecutor.

‘I’m a cop, remember? We’re paid to know these things. Actually I called your office and Marisol gave
me your home address and I just MapQuested it on the Internet.’

She made a mental note to make Marisol’s life a living hell in the morning.

An awkward moment passed between them. Finally, he said, ‘Do you think that maybe I can come in? I want to tell you about the search warrant. Unless you’re too busy.’ His eyes looked past her, casually perusing the apartment.

She answered quickly, probably too quickly. ‘There’s no one here.’ She caught herself and finished slowly with ‘I’m just, well, tired and I’ve got a headache and… ’ She looked into his face and saw his eyes reading hers, drawing conclusions. She again tried her best at a smile and to look normal. ‘Oh sure, yeah, I’m sorry, just come on in. ‘ She opened the door, and he stepped in out of the hall. They stood facing each other for a moment or two, then she turned away and walked into the kitchen.

‘Do you want a glass of wine, or are you still on duty?’

He followed her in. ‘I thought you said you had a headache.’

‘I do,’ she said from inside the refrigerator. ‘Wine is great for headaches. You don’t even remember you have one.’

He laughed. ‘Well, in that case I’ll definitely take one, thanks.’ He looked around the apartment. It was tasteful, colorful. The kitchen was a bright sunshine yellow, with an exotic fruit border in primary colors that ran at chair level across the room. The living room was painted a deep red, and bold artwork dotted the walls. It surprised him. C.J. was always so serious. He had somehow expected her apartment to be white and gray with maybe a hint of cream for color – and bare walls.

‘I like your apartment, too. It’s very bright, cheery.’

‘Thanks. I like to use a lot of color. It gives me peace.’

‘This place is great. What a view.’ Off of the living room, huge sliding glass doors were open on to a small balcony. He could hear the gently lapping waters of the Intercoastal below and see the lights of Pompano Beach across the way.

‘Yes, I love it. I’ve been here about five years now. It’s small, though. Only a two bedroom. But then again, there’s only me and Lucy and Tibby, so I don’t need much more, I suppose.’

‘Lucy? Tibby?’

‘That’s Tibby rubbing white hairs all over your nice black slacks.’ As if on cue, Tibby let off a long, woeful meow at his feet. Dominick rubbed the fat cat’s head and Tibby purred pitifully, as if he had never known love before.

‘… and that’s Lucy. My baby.’ Lucy, having smelled the contents of the open refrigerator, had just scuffled into the kitchen, sniffing at the air. She found C.J.’s outstretched hand and snuggled over for a pat and a scratch behind her long ears. ‘She doesn’t hear too well anymore, but that’s okay. Right, girl?’ C.J. put her face down close to Lucy’s and Lucy gave her a happy little howl. Her tail wagged back and forth.

‘It’s quiet up here, too. Different pace than Miami.’

‘I like it quiet. Like any big city, Miami’s got too many nut jobs. I see it every day, I work with them all day long. I don’t need to live with them, too. Not that Fort Lauderdale is the epicenter of normality, but it’s definitely more reserved. Plus I don’t work in this town. And you know what they say you shouldn’t do where you eat…’

‘You like your anonymity?’

‘Definitely. It’s worth the thirty-five-minute drive to work.’

‘I’ve been in Miami too long. It’s in my blood, I guess. I can’t be more than twenty minutes from a good Cuban midnight sandwich.’

‘The Broward-Dade county line is only fifteen minutes away. They have black beans and rice in Hollywood and Weston, too. They’re just more expensive.’

‘That’s true. Maybe a transfer to the FDLE field office in Broward. Next thing you know, I’ll be driving a minivan undercover, chasing truant kids who didn’t show up for home ec class.’

‘Now I know you’re exaggerating. This isn’t exactly Boringville, Iowa, up here in these yonder parts. I wish it were. Lots of bad things happen over that county line. More and more each year.’

‘I’m only kidding. Broward County has its own share of problems, and those are definitely growing. Even the nut jobs breed and need a place to live outside the jurisdiction of their court-mandated stay-away orders, but still within a fifty-mile radius of their probation officers.’ He paused for thought and ran his hand over his goatee. ‘I just like Miami, I guess. I’m used to it. I like getting used to things. I’m actually a very comfortable type of guy.’

‘Good. That’s good to know,’ she said softly.

They both said nothing for a moment and just sipped at their wine. She looked tired, drained. Her hair was pulled back with a clip into a soft bun, and strands had fallen out, framing her slightly tan face. Her glasses were off, something he had rarely seen. Even without makeup, she was pretty. Very pretty. She had a natural beauty about her that a lot of women didn’t. Funny how she
always seemed to try to hide it. But the criminal justice system could be a man’s world sometimes, particularly south of that Mason-Dixon line, and even in a city as metropolitan as Miami. It was still filled with chauvinistic male judges, cops, and defense attorneys. In his thirteen years with FDLE in this city, he had seen many women struggle to be respected in court, to be taken seriously by their peers, by the bench. And C.J. was always taken seriously. Always. She was probably the most respected attorney in that office. Even more so than that dippy boss of hers, Tigler. He saw her gray jacket draped over the kitchen chair and noticed that she hadn’t changed out of her suit yet.

‘I thought you left work early today.’

‘I did. Why?’

‘’Cause you’re still in your suit.’

‘Yeah, I did some work out of here. I just haven’t had a chance to change yet.’ She changed the subject. ‘How did the warrant go? Did you find anything?’ She glanced down and saw that he was simultaneously petting both Tibby and Lucy under the table.

‘Yeah. We found a lot. I’m surprised Manny didn’t call you to let you know.’

‘He beeped me before and I called him back and left a message on his cell. He hasn’t called me back again, and that was about two hours ago.’

‘Well, they just wrapped up over there about forty-five minutes ago. I came straight here. We found blood this afternoon in a shed out back behind the house. Not much, three drops, but enough. Preliminary tests came back about an hour ago. It’s human. We’ll run the DNA and match it with Prado’s to see if it’s hers. That will probably take a few weeks.

‘We also might have a murder weapon. Bantling apparently liked to stuff animals in the shed – you know, what do they call that?’

‘Taxidermy.’

‘Yeah. He had a few birds hanging from the rafters in this shed. But he also had about six different scalpels. One also has what may be blood on it. Neilson is going to call in an expert on knife patterns to see if we can match the scalpel with the chest incisions of the girls – those that weren’t too decomped – and we can get a microscopic skin tear match.’

C.J. shuddered. This was hitting too close to home now, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold this conversation together tonight.

‘So we boxed and shipped everything to the lab and the ME, and we are just waiting for test results. They luminolled the house. Nothing. No blood anywhere inside.’

‘What about the shed that you mentioned?’

‘Lit up like a firefly. He must’ve tried to clean it up but he missed a few spatters on the lower part of the wall. But there was blood everywhere. Even the ceiling glowed, with a splash pattern that looks like Prado might have been killed while lying on this metal gurney he kept in there. The aorta would have spurted blood up like Ol’ Faithful when cut. We’re getting Leslie Bickins, the blood spatter expert from FDLE in Tallahassee, to come down tomorrow and take a look. Of course, the problem is that he also liked to cut up dead animals and stuff them in that shed, so whose blood is whose is the question of the day.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yeah. I found a prescription for haloperidol that
Bantling had from a doctor in New York. You might know it as Haldol – it’s an antipsychotic drug. They administer it to manage delirium. So apparently Bantling has a history of mental problems, too. That would fit the pattern, and would make sense in light of the viciousness of the murders.

‘He also had a trunkful of homemade sadomasochistic porn videotapes. Different women, some looked real young, our victims’ age. We haven’t looked at ‘em all, because there’s got to be over a hundred altogether. From the tides, a lot of them seem to be blondes, too.’

C.J. had turned white.

‘Are you okay? Jesus, you look like you did in court this morning!’ He reached across the table and touched her arm. Her hand clenched the wineglass stem with tight white knuckles. The same look of worry from that afternoon was in his eyes. ‘What’s wrong, C.J.? What is it? Maybe I can help.’

‘I’m fine. I just think maybe I’m coming down with something. That’s all.’ The words were stammered, distracted. It was time to end the conversation. End it right here before she completely fell apart tonight. She stood up, pulling her hand out from underneath his, moving away from him yet again. Her eyes were cast down, toward the table and away from him. ‘Thanks for bringing this tonight. I’ll definitely look through it.’ Her voice sounded far away. She fingered the AutoTrack on the table and looked back at Dominick. ‘And thanks, too, for making the trip all the way up here. You didn’t have to.’

He stood and followed her back to the front door. He noticed that there were about four different locks on it. And an elaborate alarm system on the wall.
What was she locking out, up here in her tower in nice, quiet Fort Lauderdale suburbia, with the yachts and the party boats?

She went to open the door, and Lucy rushed to get out. ‘No, Lucy. No. I’ve already let you out for the night.’

C.J. looked back up at Dominick. He saw the fear in her emerald eyes then as plain as day. ‘Well, thanks again, Dom,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess. Call me after you speak with Neilson. Maybe I’ll meet you over there. And I’m sorry that I’ve been… distant, I just-’

His hand found hers on the doorknob, and he grasped it and held it tight. His face was close now, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. His breath smelled sweet and cool, like peppermint and Chardonnay. His eyes were serious, but they were also soft. He looked down into hers.

‘Don’t talk,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t say anything else or this might not happen.’

His lips touched her cheek then, and gently, softly, brushed against her skin, until they reached her mouth. The gruff stubble of his goatee tickled against her face and chin. To her surprise, she found her own lips were already parted slightly, waiting for his mouth to meet hers. She wanted to feel his kiss, to taste his sweet, peppermint tongue on hers.

His lips met hers finally, and she shivered slightly. His mouth moved gently, his tongue probing, exploring hers. Their bodies touched, pressed up against the back of the door, and even through the clothes they both wore, the heat was intense. She could feel him, hard against her thigh. His hand still held hers behind her back on the doorknob. He let go now and ran his fingers up the length of her arm, caressing her shoulder lightly
through her silk blouse, then down her side, gently moving over her ribs and the curve in her waist. His hand then slid behind her, where his warm palm fit across the small of her back. His other hand held her face, his thumb surprisingly smooth and gentle on her cheek. Their mouths were still one, and the kiss grew more intense, more passionate. His tongue pushed deeper into her mouth, his strong chest pressed heavily against hers, so close she could almost feel his heartbeat.

She did not move away from him this time. Instead, her fingers hesitantly wrapped around his neck, feeling the short thick hairs on the back of his head curl under her fingers, and she pulled him even closer. The tips of her fingers ran across the top of his back, feeling the definition of muscle through his dress shirt. A surge of emotions surfaced that she had long since buried and left for dead, and the moment completely overwhelmed her.

He felt the hot tears as they ran silently down her cheek, meeting his. The kiss abruptly ended and he pulled back, away from her. She kept her head down, ashamed of herself for letting him see her this way. She should never have let this happen tonight. But then his warm, calloused hands came and held her face, cupping her chin and tilting it upward again, toward his own. She saw again the worry in his eyes and, almost as if he had read her mind, he simply whispered, ‘I’m not going to hurt you, C.J. I’m not.’ Then his lips softly kissed away the two rivers of tears on her cheeks. ‘And we’re both going to take this slow. Real slow.’