The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [479]
“When did this happen? The day Craig found you crying?”
“It was before the holiday break. Weeks and weeks ago. So I don’t see that it means anything. But Hallie said I should tell you. That you should know everything. I wish you wouldn’t have to tell my husband. He’d be angry with me for not telling him, and angry with Mr. Williams. He’d cause trouble at the school.”
“There’s no reason we need to tell your husband, Mrs. Sanchez, but let me tell you something. If you were sexually harassed by Williams, you should report it. If he did this to you, he’s done it to others. He shouldn’t hold the position he does, and he shouldn’t get away with it. You could get yourself a lawyer and sue his ass on top of it.”
“Who’d believe me?”
“I believe you.”
Eve sat where she was another moment while Peabody took Laina out to arrange for her transportation home. Williams, she thought. Despite no evidence of violence in his MO, he was a sexual predator. Not such a big leap from that to murder.
Either way, the son of a bitch deserved to have the shit kicked out of him.
She stood just as Baxter headed in her direction. “Dallas,” he began, then studied her with a cocked head. “Sister, you look like something the cat wouldn’t bother to drag in.”
“That’s Lieutenant Sister, and bite me.”
“One good chomp would probably do it the way you’re looking. Anyway. We got hot on the Barrister case.”
“Tourist from Ohio, right?”
“Omaha. Same difference. The concerned citizen Trueheart’s escorting out has come forward as a wit.”
“That mope one of your weasels?”
“Yeah, he’s on my roll.” Baxter got comfortable, planting his ass on the table. “Thing is, he saw it go down, scratched his butt over it for a day or so, then tagged me. Vic went down the underground, under Broadway and Thirty-eighth. Hell’s Fire. You know the joint?”
“Yeah. S-and-M theme, lots of party favors. Mock human sacrifices nightly. I like to drop in to relax after a long shift.”
Baxter grinned. “Just your style. So the vic strolls in, flashy wrist unit, shiny shoes, big attitude. Rents a slave, pays for the deluxe bondage package.”
“Deluxe?”
“That would be your chains, whips, ball gag in your choice of colors, mini-Taser, leash, and collar. Three-hour rental.”
“What, no costumes?”
“Costumes are the super deluxe pack. But he sprang for one of the display cubes so he could put on a show for the crowd.”
“Nice.”
“He wants to score before he gets his rocks off, so he zeros in on Sykes.” Baxter, not as fussy about coffee as Eve, walked over and keyed in his code on the machine. “You want?”
“No. I can live without drinking mud made from dirt and horse piss.”
“He wants a free sample—can you beat it—wants a freebie before he pays. Sykes tells him to fuck off, but the guy hounds him. He’s got plenty to spend, but he wants a taste first. Pokes at Sykes, flashes a wad. ‘Gimme a taste and if I like it, I’ll buy a full bag.’ So Sykes, who’d had a free sample or two himself, says, ‘I’ll give you a taste, fuckface, see how you like this.’ And proceeds to stick him a couple dozen times with his buck knife.”
Eve waited until Baxter planted his ass again. “He got the point across.”
“Har. After said point is made, Sykes hauls Barrister’s dead body up, carries him out of the club, and dumps him at the bottom of the stairs on the passage down on Broadway. Where he was subsequently tripped over by a couple of idiot college kids who thought they’d like an underground adventure.”
“An urban fable. You know where to find Sykes?”
“Got a couple of haunts in addition to his last known. I figure on trying the last known first. Try to keep my kid above the sidewalk. It’s a jungle down there.”
“Either way, close it up.”
“I thought I’d let Trueheart take the lead on the interview once we have Sykes in the box. Give him some play.”
Eve thought of the baby-faced Trueheart. It would probably be good for him, and Baxter wouldn’t let it go south. “Your call. Notify Illegals after