Buried Secrets_A dark Romantic Suspense Page 19

  “To see if our guy had the tattoo done in Tampa. We find the parlor, we find a name.”

  “Why not ask Phil to ask the cops to do the legwork?”

  “I don’t know how much interaction you’ve had with the TPD, but finding a man with a tattoo might not be their highest priority. We need action.”

  So the fine men, or women, in blue apparently did not rank high in his opinion. “The cops work fast when a killer’s on a loose, especially one who might be a serial killer.” She couldn’t let his slight go unchallenged.

  “I’m not taking any chances. If you want to get something done right, do it yourself.”

  She moved away from him. “What is it with you? Do you have to control every situation?” If so, she and Sam would never survive together.

  Hold it. Is that what she wanted?

  Before she could answer the question, he ran a finger down her face, and her anger flew away. “I want to find this guy so bad I can taste it. Time is not on our side. I won’t be able to sleep until he’s behind bars. If anything happened to you...”

  She smiled at his depth of caring. “It won’t.”

  Argument apparently forgotten, Sam pushed the down button. “Listen, I promise that if we find a name of someone with this tattoo, we’ll pass the info to the cops, and I’ll let them deal with this guy.”

  Sounded fair. “Okay.”

  The moment the elevator reached the first floor, she hit the number two button. He cocked a brow. “We’ll need to get a couple of addresses for all the tattoo parlors in Tampa—unless you know where they all are. Since I’ve investigated every inch of your delicious body and didn’t find a drop on ink anywhere, I’m guessing you’ve never even been to one.”

  He winked. “Are you positive you’ve seen every square inch?”

  “Maybe not.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. Only when the doors opened did he end the magical contact.

  Fifteen minutes later, Jenna and Sam were heading downtown. She waved the stack of paper. “There are more than twenty parlors here.”

  “Look through them and see where you want to start.”

  “If the killer is one of Deidra’s minions, he might have had the work done in Ybor. There are four of them on 7th Avenue. I say it’s as good a place as any to start.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  At the first shop, they showed the owner the photo of the blurry tattoo. “Haven’t done one of those. I’ve only been in business a little more than a year, but I’ve seen the design though.”

  “Who else might do this kind of work?”

  “Anyone of the other artists in Ybor. You just have to ask around.”

  Once outside, Jenna shielded her eyes against the bright sun. She put an X by that shop and headed to the Dog-Bone Tattoo Parlor.

  Three artists, crowded around a table near the back of the store, were enjoying a smoke. The exchange of glances told her they thought they were tourists who must be in the wrong spot. Jenna slipped the paper from Sam’s fingers and strutted over to the only guy who didn’t look high.

  “Help you?” The tall, beefy man stood and pulled up black jeans that were full of holes.

  She flashed the photo. “This man is a killer. Have you seen this tattoo before?”

  “You shittin’ me?”

  “No.”

  Holey Pants took the image over to his cohorts. The heavyset girl, with the thick, black eyeliner nodded. “Yeah, I did a tat like that maybe two, three years ago.”

  “Guy got a name?”

  She jutted out her hip. “If I could remember every client’s name, I’d be in Mensa.”

  “Can you try? Please?” Jenna softened her tone, hoping the fact a killer was on the loose might appeal to her sense of duty.

  She took a long drag on her cigarette, stamped it out, and stood. “Could take me a while to look through the records.”

  “Thanks. We can wait.” Sam nodded.

  Too edgy to stand still, Jenna scoped out the photographs that plastered the walls. Some people had tattoos on their faces and others had colored ink over every exposed surface of their bodies. Who would do that?

  “Here it is.” The girl handed Jenna the receipt.

  Crap. “He paid cash.” The receipt was dated three years ago.

  “Many do.”

  “There’s only a first name here.”

  The girl shrugged and retrieved the paper. “Probably not his right name either. Some people like the anonymity. We’re cool with that.”

  Sam stepped around Jenna. “This is only a partial photo.” He nodded to the paper Jenna held. “Do you remember the rest of it?”

  “Sure. It’s common enough. Just a sec.” She ducked into the back room again and came out a minute later. “Here’s what the design looks like. It’s a medical staff.”

  Now she recognized it. One of her friends wore a medical alert bracelet with the symbol on it. “Can I keep this picture?”

  “Sure. Good luck in finding the creep. If only I’d known.”

  Once outside, Jenna took in a cleansing breath. “I can’t take cigarette smoke any more.”

  “Me too. What was the guy’s name again?”

  “Joe. No last name.”

  “That doesn’t narrow it down much. We need Carla.”

  “Thanks for springing, me,” Carla said.

  Gina had had the unfortunate job of breaking the news to Carla about Chance’s death. She’d held up well, Gina said, but now a deep sadness filled Carla’s eyes, nearly breaking Sam’s heart. He couldn’t bring himself to mention the same man who killed the hospital guard probably set the car explosion.

  If they were to crack this case, however, Carla had to be involved. He’d explained how they needed to find the identity of the masked security guard killer. “You want to work from the lab or from home?”

  Jenna shot Sam a stern look and leaned over Carla. “You don’t have to go back to work right now. The doctor said you’re supposed to be in bed for the next few weeks—resting, not working.”

  Carla looked over Jenna’s shoulder to him. “I won’t be able to rest until this guy is caught. I’d prefer being at the lab, but I hope you don’t mind if I order a pizza? The hospital has nothing but healthy food, and I’m absolutely starving to death.”

  Sam chuckled. “Order two and we can share.”

  Jenna planted her hands on her hips as her mouth turned down into a cute little pout. “For the record, I’m not for Carla going back to work so soon.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Carla huffed out a friendly laugh. “Like you rested after you barely survived a burning house?”

  Jenna clamped her mouth shut. “HOPEFAL it is.”

  Carla used Jenna’s phone to place the food order as Sam wheeled her downstairs. Once she stood, she walked like she was eighty years old. He wished Jenna had been able to talk her out of going back to work.

  “I promise I’ll be fine,” Carla said.

  Once they arrived at the center, Seth greeted them from the front desk as Carla inched her way to the elevator. In her office, Sam leaned a hip on Carla’s desk. “Phil asking HR to find an employee who fits the bill of our killer, but I think you can do the work quicker.”

  “I know how slow HR can be.” Carla huffed out a laugh and turned on her computer.

  When her system booted up, she logged on. “Give me a sec to pull up the names of everyone who works here. Unfortunately, there’s no database or I could sort by nationality and height.”

  Jenna leaned into him. “How many people work here?”

  “Including maintenance, I’d say close to one hundred,” Carla answered. She glanced back at Sam. “You said he was about five foot ten, right?”

  “From my best estimates. He could have worn lifts to make himself taller, but he couldn’t make himself look shorter.”

  “I’m going to start with maintenance.” She typed away. “Does this Joe have a last name?”

  “No,” Sam said.


  Carla rolled her eyes as Jenna pulled up a chair. “But if he had a medical symbol on his arm, he’s either allergic to something or he could be a doctor.”

  Carla groaned. “I’ll widen my search.”

  The phone on her desk rang. She answered and then listened for a moment. “Great. I’ll send someone down.”

  She turned around and smiled. “That was fast. Pizza’s here.” Her stomach grumbled. From her purse, she extracted a twenty-dollar bill. “Would one of you mind—”

  Jenna grabbed the money. “I’ll go.” She waved a hand. “You two do your thing.”

  Once Jenna left, Sam took Jenna’s chair. Carla clicked on the first male on the list. “John Abdulla.”

  The job description listed him as chemist. “Any photo?”

  “No.”

  “Height? Age?”

  “Can’t put that stuff on an application.”

  Sam leaned back in his chair. “Maybe we can ask the heads of each of the divisions to tell us who matches the description. Who’s the head of maintenance?”

  Her fingernails scurried over the keys. “Terrance Muley.”

  “Does it say if he’s working now?”

  “He should be. His office is on the first floor. But let’s have lunch first. Then you can find Joe with the medical tattoo.”

  Jenna bounced in a moment later, and the aroma of cheese and pepperoni filled the small office. Carla cleared an area on the side table and Jenna set down the box. “Here’s your twenty back. The pizza was just sitting on the guard’s station. Maybe Seth paid the guy. After I eat, I’ll bring him the money.”

  Sam lifted the lid and his hands froze.

  21

  Sam’s face paled and his fingernails dug into the cover.

  “What is it?” Jenna asked.

  He pressed his lips together. “Someone sent a message.”

  Jenna rushed to his side and stared at the underside of the cover. YOU’RE NEXT HOLLIDAY. A large grease stain had bled through her name.

  “Oh, shit.” Now she’d have to explain that she was Jenna Holliday.

  He glanced at her. “You know who this Holliday person is?”

  “It’s me. I’m Jenna Holliday.”

  “I thought your last name was Richman?”

  Tell the truth. No. Her heart was going too fast. “Holliday was my married name. Richman’s my maiden name.” She blew out a hard breath. “I was married for less than a year.” She waved a hand. “It didn’t work out.”

  Sam starred hard at her for a long moment. “That means this guy knew you back then.”

  “I guess so.” Dear God, how many lies could she tell before Sam shut her out completely. And she needed him. Heart pounding, Jenna grabbed onto Sam’s arm.

  He enveloped her and held her tight, his scent seeping into her pores. “We’ll find the bastard, I promise.” Sam’s jaw clenched. “He’ll slip up, and we’ll get him.” He turned to Carla. “Could you call the pizza place back and ask for the name of the delivery person?”

  “Sure. You think he saw this guy?”

  “Maybe.”

  With shaky fingers, she punched redial. “This is Carla Pendowski again. Could you tell me the person’s name who delivered my pizza?...I, ah, forgot to give him a tip...okay, got it, thanks.”

  “Well?” Jenna asked.

  “Just a sec.” Carla looked down at the number she’d written and dialed again. “Hi, my name is Carla Pendowski. You just delivered a pizza to the HOPEFAL lab... .Can you tell me who paid you?” She tapped the half-chewed pencil on the desk. “Would it be possible for you to come back to the lab? We’d like to ask you some questions. Thanks.” She disconnected. “Someone met him outside the lab. Medium build, sunglasses, and wearing a hoody.”

  His jaw tightened. “That could be our man.”

  “Oh, shit. If Seth wasn’t at his station, I wonder if our killer took him out like he did Harold.”

  “Carla, stay here and lock your office door,” Sam said, as he grabbed Jenna’s hand and pulled her into the hallway.

  “Be careful,” Carla called after them just as she closed the door.

  Jenna pushed the elevator button ten times before the damn thing arrived. Sam was the first one out the door on the bottom floor. Thankfully, Seth was sitting in his chair reading a book, and relief weakened her knees.

  “Seth,” Sam said.

  The young guard sat up. “Yes, sir.”

  “About ten minutes ago, someone came through here carrying a pizza. Did you see him?”

  His face turned blank. “No, sir.”

  Jenna stepped toward the guard. “When I came down a moment ago, the pizza was on the counter and you weren’t here.”

  He glanced away and chewed on his bottom lip before facing her. “I heard a buzzing sound down the hall and went to investigate. That must have been right about when the pizza man came.” He reached below his desk and pulled out a device about the size of a desk of cards. “Some prankster left this in the hallway.” He pushed the button and a screeching sound emitted. He immediately shut it off.

  Sam turned and tugged on her arm. “Thanks, Seth.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Let’s check out the video room. Hopefully, the guy didn’t disable the camera this time.”

  Sam and Jenna rushed Edwardo Lopez’s video lab again. They knocked on his door and entered. When she saw Edwardo was seated in front of his computer and not dead with his throat slashed, she blew out a breath.

  Sam clapped a hand on Edwardo’s shoulder. “Can you do us a favor and look through the video of the guard station?”

  “Something wrong?”

  Sam told him about the threat on the box and the absent guard.

  “Sure, what time frame?”

  “The last hour.”

  “Give me a sec.” Edwardo brought up the digital image from his computer. “Here ya go.”

  Jenna stood behind Edwardo, her gaze glued to the screen. “Here he comes.” She squeezed Sam’s hand for comfort.

  “Damn,” Sam said. “He has his hood pulled too low for us to see his face.”

  “Looks like he has red hair,” she said.

  “I’m betting it’s another wig.”

  “Maybe he runs a wig store.”

  The man bounded past the empty guard station and turned left. He disappeared down the hallway where Seth told them he’d found the noisy device.

  Sam leaned closer. “He’s coming back. See how he’s tilting his head away from the camera and toward the floor? He knows where the security system is. Guy must have scoped out the place before.”

  “Like when he killed Harold.”

  “Perhaps, but we can’t be certain he’s the same person.”

  The movie continued to roll. “Lookie there. Seth didn’t tell us the whole truth. He wasn’t at his station a number of times. It wasn’t just when the guy came to put the device in the hall or when he delivered the pizza.”

  “Rather convenient if you ask me.”

  “So you’re thinking he’s in cahoots with our mystery man?” Jenna asked.

  “Hard to tell, but something’s not right. I’ll ask Carla to dig up any dirt on this new guard.”

  Jenna’s shoulders turned heavy. “I think it’s sad we have to suspect everyone here.”

  Edwardo looked up and held up a hand. “Hey, don’t look at me. I was here the whole time.”

  For some reason his expression made both of them laugh.

  Sam’s phone rang. “It’s Carla,” he said to her. “Kid who delivered the pizza is waiting outside for us.”

  This time when they left the lobby Seth was standing at his station, and they hurried out.

  Pimply faced and thin for his age, the delivery boy paced in front of his car. Sam flashed his HOPEFAL badge, but the kid barely glanced at it. He straightened his shoulders as if Sam were some kind of FBI agent. Sam asked him about the man who took possession of the pizza.

  The delivery boy shoved his hands in his pocket and glanced
toward the ground. “Like I told Ms. Pendowski, I drove up and some guy came out of those doors.” He nodded to the ones Jenna and Sam had exited. “He handed me a twenty and said to keep the change. I was so excited I forgot to tell him who the pizza was for.” The kid shrugged as if it was no biggie. “I figured Ms. Pendowski asked a coworker to pick it up.”

  “Did you get a look at his face?” Sam asked.

  “Nah, not when he was waving a twenty spot under my nose.”

  “There was nothing remarkable about him? Any scars, tattoos, a limp maybe?” Sam practically attacked the kid, but Jenna was glad he was asking the questions and not her. Her occupation would have been evident to everyone if she had been.

  The kid crossed his arms and bit down on his lower lip. “He had a tattoo, that much I do remember. I was thinking of getting one, so I’ve been watching for one I liked. His had a snake wrapped around a stick.”

  It’s him. Oh, God, the killer was close. Real close. She couldn’t catch her breath.

  He handed the kid a ten-dollar bill. “Thanks.”

  The boy smiled, jumped in his truck and zoomed off. Sam lifted her chin. “You okay? You’re pale.”

  “Death threats have that affect on me.” As a cop, she shouldn’t have weakened. Damn.

  Bianca hid behind her bedroom door, her hand clutching the loaded gun. Every time her uncle came over, her father suffered from his wrath. She refused to stand by any more and watch the vicious man hurt her dad. It didn’t matter her uncle was blood. Nor did it matter he carried a gun or that the world thought he walked on water. To her, he was scum.

  She pressed her ear to the door, listening to the heated exchange. For the last month, she’d told her father she was staying late after school to be in a play, when in fact she went to the Hillsborough gun range twice a week for lessons. If he knew, he’d be real pissed, but she was proud she could hit her target with relative accuracy.

  Her uncle was an evil man, but her father would never stand up to his younger brother-in-law no matter how many times her uncle hit him. Well, she’d stand up to the bastard. Only maybe not today.