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“Yeah, well, I won’t die if we can’t do it.”
“Oh, come on, T. The boys are all excited. We’ll do di
“Baldwin’s excited to go to a strip club?” She looked over her shoulder; he was back out in the foyer of the house, talking on his cell phone. His brow was crinkled and she wondered who he was talking to.
“No, I think it’s more Simon is excited. He hasn’t gotten a chance to have a lot of male bonding since the babies came. We’ll let him and Baldwin, Fitz, Marcus and Lincoln watch the girlies dance and you and I will have a relaxing hour before they come back. I plan on getting ravished after that. So don’t spoil my fun, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’ll probably have to skip the di
Sam thought hard. “I think it’s called something like…Control, that’s it. Control.”
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“Sounds like a gay bar, one of the ones up on Church Street.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t name it. And it’s not. Let’s get to it.” She went into the first room and did a thorough setup, taking her time. It was a good twenty minutes before she declared she was ready to flip the girl. With a little help from one of the crime-scene techs, the woman was rolled onto the sheet that would help them transfer the body into a body bag.
Taylor was chatting with Parks when she heard Sam’s sharp intake of breath.
“What, what is it? What’s the matter?” she asked.
“You better come look at this,” Sam answered. Taylor came into the room. It only took a glance at the woman before Taylor realized what was happening. The breath left her body in a whoosh.
“Oh my God.”
Seventeen
A fire crackled in the hearth. The cozy scene belied the barely contained vicissitude in the room. Snow White paced, in a fury, leaning heavily on his cane.
“Goddamn you, I told you no. You had no right to move ahead without my permission. That wasn’t a part of our deal, you brainless son of a bitch. These things need to be treated carefully, cautiously. You’ve undone all our work. You’re going to get us both caught.”
“Shut up, old man. I did what needed to be done. You won’t let me kill that stupid bitch we took the other night. I needed to get it out of my system. They’re just whores.”
Snow White turned to the third member of the room.
“Did you sanction this? Did you tell him he could deviate from protocol? I swear to you, if either of you fuck me, I’ll see to it you never forget what it’s like to be on my bad side.”
The woman turned. “I have no more control over him than you do. You knew that when I brought him to you. He’s a sociopath.”
The younger man adopted a mocking tone. “Thank you, darling. Coming from you, that’s a high compliment indeed.”
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She frowned at him. “You’re welcome, though I have to say I agree. Going outside the parameters at this stage of the game could derail everything. You want me to be happy, don’t you?”
Snow White felt a scream building in his blood. “Shut up, both of you. We need to find out what’s happening, see if we need to shut all this down. What have you done to the girl?”
“I haven’t done anything to her but look. She’s safe. For now.”
“I didn’t ask that. Where is she? I want to see her.”
His protégé casually stretched and smiled. “She’s safe. I haven’t touched her. But I will, mark my words.”
“Lay a hand on her and you’ll be dead before you can blink. You’ve broken the pattern. Defied my rules. I say when you kill. And now you’ve gone and done this? With these…defiled things. We have standards. First you’re dumb enough to choose the daughter of a celebrity. Minor as the mother may be, she’s drawing too much attention to us. Then you guarantee even more media for yourself by taking a newspaper reporter? We had an agreement!
You might as well have spit in my eye. If you deviate from the plan again, I will have your head, mark my words. They will be coming for us now, and it’s too soon.”
“You didn’t realize who little Jane was, either, old man. You were right there in the thick of it with me. Don’t think I’ll forget that.”
“You are not to touch her. Am I understood?”
Snow White glared at his apprentice. His threats were empty; he had no strength to take control of the situa
tion physically, and the boy knew it. The impertinent fool had gotten greedy, couldn’t sate his ridiculous 14
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hunger for ending life for just a few days. He knew this was a bad idea.
The door to the room opened.
“Father?”
“Oh, look, it’s blind-boy grunt. Come to see what your daddy is up to with the real people? I bet he rues the day you spat forth into this world.”
Snow White sniggered, but the woman stood angrily.
“Hey. That’s my brother you’re talking to. Don’t you dare speak like that to him. Do you understand me?”
“What are you going to do to me, princess?”
She ignored him, went to the deformed creature she called brother. “He didn’t mean it, he doesn’t know any better. He’s a brute, Joshua. Let’s get you something to drink, okay?” She marched from the room, and Snow White sighed.
“She’s loved that boy silly since he came out of that twat she called a mother. I don’t think Charlotte remem
bers her mother. She died giving birth to Joshua, you know. They laid him on her chest and she just went. Like she couldn’t face what she had created.”
“It’s a disease, old man. Just like the one you have, but it cripples his face, not his soul.”
“Well, aren’t you the philosopher today? You were in
sulting him a moment ago. Changed your mind?”
“Of course not. I don’t possess compassion, you know that. But I do admire your darling daughter for her loyalty. Enough of this. I’m tired. I’ve had a long day. I’m going to get some rest.”
“Don’t touch the girl.”
He left the room, and Snow White slumped in his chair. He shouldn’t have listened. Shouldn’t have allowed it to 184
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move so quickly. Not enough pla
Frank Richardson pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. His brain was numb. He’d been combing the files, rereading all of his stories, making copies of relevant sections. In all, he’d written more than four hundred stories on the Snow White Killer over the years he’d been active.
He remembered those days. It was a heady feeling, communicating the worst imaginable information to the citizens of Nashville. He’d worked closely with the police, gotten more scoop than any reporter had a right to, legally or otherwise. He was proud of this work, proud of his at
tention to detail, his meticulous analysis. No prejudice, no accusations against the police for dragging their feet, just solid journalism chronicling the Snow White case. He knew Taylor was interested in any of his work that had speculation about suspects. She’d informed him about the missing signet ring, and her reservations about Burt Mars. He’d taken the liberty of trying to track Mars down; the last known address for the man was Manhattan. It had taken work, but what he found was astounding. That lieu
tenant was right to be suspicious.