Page 69 of Shadow's Surrender
Chapter Fifteen
Detective McCue lookedup from the file he was reading and lifted his chin at his partner as he walked into the office.
“It’s hotter than Hades out there,” Ibuado said as he plucked a few tissues from the chevron-designed box on the corner of McCue’s desk. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then pulled out a few more and ran them over his black matted hair.
“There’re bottles of tea in the fridge,” the detective said to his partner as he opened a desk drawer and pulled out another file. “Our Jane Doe’s got a name,” he added while thumbing through the papers in the open folder.
“We got a hit on her fingerprints?” Ibuado asked, walking to the mini-fridge. He bent down and grabbed a bottle of tea, then opened it and downed half the contents before running the cold surface over his forehead, face, and neck.
“Better now?” McCue asked as he watched in amusement.
“Yeah. When the hell is this heat going to break?” Ibuado bent down and took out another bottle, then he crossed the room and sank into one of the chairs in front of McCue’s desk.
“Doesn’t seem like it’s going to any time soon.” He scanned the information from NCIC. “Florence Karasis the name of our Jane Doe.”
“What did she do to have the honor of being in the criminal database?”
“She was popped years ago for hooking on Penn Street, but what I find real interesting is that she stripped at Satin Dolls around the same time our cold case victim Carmen Basson worked there.”
Ibuado tossed the empty bottle into the trash. “Coincidence?”
“I don’t like coincidences. Our former Jane Doe had a condo in the Belvedere.” The detective nodded at his partner’s low whistle. “Yeah … Where the hell does a stripper, who was also turning tricks, get that kind of money to buy a condo in the one of the ritziest parts of town?”
“Maybe she had the same sugar daddy as Carmen Basson.”
“Another coincidence that I don’t like.” McCue pulled out an envelope and waved it in front of him. “A signed search warrant for Florence Karas’s condo.”
“I just cooled off,” Ibuado said as he rose to his feet.
“And I just got an AC flush for my car. Now it’s like the damn North Pole in there.” McCue grabbed his notebook. “My gut’s telling me Karas’s murder is somehow related to Basson’s.”
“Mine too. After we finish with the search, let’s pay a visit to Satin Dolls.”
“Great minds think alike,” McCue said, walking into the elevator.
He put on his sunglasses and pushed open the door, sucking in his breath as a blast of scorching heat rolled over him. He slipped off his sports jacket, draped it over his shoulder, and he and his partner made their way to the parking lot.
For the next three hours, the detectives and several police officers combed through Florence Karas’s condominium, bagging items, shuffling through papers, and rifling through drawers.
“We found a calendar planner in one of the dresser drawers under a stack of papers and books,” one of the officers said as he handed a magenta-pink book to McCue.
The detective took it in his gloved hands and thumbed through the pages. From the coroner’s report, he knew the victim had been dead for a couple of days, so he searched the day planner hoping to glean some clues. A couple of days before the body was discovered, he saw a handwritten notation:Shadow at 4:00 p.m.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. He opened a plastic bag and dropped the planner in it, then he sealed it and handed it to one of the techs who whisked it away. The detective then took out his phone and called Carly Leight—one of his favorite prosecutors.
“Is it hot enough for you, McCue?” Carly joked.
“Not quite.” He chuckled. “I wanted to let you know that we got a name for our Jane Doe—Florence Karas. I’m at her place now.”
“Finding anything helpful?” she asked.
“Yeah. How’s the search warrant for the victim’s phone records going?”
“It’s in front of Judge Romero right now. I don’t think it’ll be a problem to get it signed. I’ll dash over there and amend Jane Doe to our victim’s name. I’ll call you the minute I have the signed warrant in my hands.”
“Thanks, Carly—I owe you.”
“Maybe that drink that you keep promising me?” A soft laugh. “Now let me get off the phone so I can get over to Romero’s chambers.”
McCue shoved the phone into his pocket. Questions raced through his mind about the connection between Florence Karas and Shadow.Why the hell was he meeting her? Never once in the investigation did her name come up. Why didn’t he ever mention her to me?He doubted that the outlaw biker would be forthcoming with much information, but he’d give it his best shot. The case of Shadow’s mother haunted him, and he was determined to solve it at all costs.
With a sigh, the detective picked up a box that had been under the bed and began to sift through it.
