Page 12 of Breathe Me In

“So”—Bree ignored me and thought out loud—“I read through the information Cap sent me on the case. Let’s start from the beginning. From what we know, the first victim, Shelly White, age twenty-four, ordered a drink here.” She stepped up to the bar top. “She orders a piña colada, a drink that requires the bartender to turn his back to make it. Shelly takes the drink, starts to feel funny. Her friend said she sloshed the drink as she put it on the high-top table they were at.” She walked to the table and mimicked putting down a drink. “Then she heads to the restroom”—she pointed to the restroom door—“where she drops to the floor. The other women in the restroom freak out, and moments later a bouncer is giving her CPR, but it’s too late. She’s gone.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s about right,” I agreed. I enjoyed watching her work. She was a quick study, always had been. She went back to the bar top and took three steps down from where Shelly had stood, then pulled out her camera and took a couple of photos as if from the victim’s point of view.

“The second victim, Maggie Deloitte, age twenty-two, orders her drink here, another drink the bartender turns away to make. He gives her the drink, then helps another customer. When he turns back, he notices her eyes are glossy. According to a different witness statement, she hands him her card to pay, and before the bartender is back from running the card, she pushes away from the bar and stumbles through the crowd. She heads outside toward her car, gets about five feet, and collapses.”

“That autopsy will be ready by tonight,” I commented.

“Come here.” She waved me over, and I stood next to her. “Closer.” She pushed into my side as she looked at the file the captain must have given her. “Shelly was a little taller than me; I’m five eight.” She leaned her body over the bar like she was giving her order to the bartender. “She was in jeans and a tank like mine, and Maggie was in a short dress—she was more my height.” She moved the flannel shirt that was wrapped around her waist to look like a mini skirt, then leaned over the bar top. “I assume this is roughly where the attack happens.” She ran her hands along the bar. “Maybe one step back.” She looked up at me then and tilted her head to the side. “Flirt with me,” she ordered, and I chuckled.

“What?”

“Work with me here. We’re jammed in like sardines, and both girls were gorgeous. I’m sure they were being hit on the entire night.”

“The place was packed.” I followed her thoughts as she got close to me again. “He could have leaned over to speak.” I leaned down, trying to think how he could make contact without it looking like he was. “He slips something into her drink.” I made the motion of doing it. “But nowhere on the tapes does Maggie Deloitte talk to anyone other than the bartender, and no one really seemed to be trying to grab her attention. Also, both bartenders were cleared thanks to that little camera right there.” I pointed to a staged tequila bottle that I’d been told had a hidden camera. It pointed straight down to where they mixed their drinks. “Not that I plan to rule out anyone just yet, but they’re in the clear as of right now.”

“Okay.” She pressed her lips together. “And we know for sure they weren’t into drugs or affiliated with drug dealers?”

“No, and no drugs were found in their systems. At least none of the usual ones. We checked that angle multiple times from the start. According to their families and friends, these two young women were focused, had drive, and Maggie often had to do drug tests for her job.”

“Good.” Bree’s brows went up. “It makes sense it had to be a poison, though. One passes out in the bathroom and one out in the parking lot. The timing is about the same between when they ordered their drinks and when they collapsed.”

“Correct.”

“He just lets them die. Doesn’t do a thing to them.”

“Seems so, yeah.” I flipped a page in the folder and scanned the page. “Nothing stolen, no assault—they just drop and die.”

“Then why kill them?” She stepped back and looked around the room. “For sport?” She cringed at how monstrous that sounded. “Maybe this guy hits on girls, and whoever rejects him becomes his target?”

My phone rang, and I held up a hand. “Hi, Cap.”

“Stone, I need you and Bree to swing by Maggie Deloitte’s house and speak to her parents. They’ve put together some stuff for us. I want you to pick it up and go over it with them.”

“All right.”

“It’ll be good for Bree to have a look around too,” he quickly said before he hung up. I could kill him for not giving me a heads-up about her.

“Captain wants us to swing by Maggie Deloitte’s house. Her parents have something for us.” I filled her in as we headed out. “And heads up, they’re carrying a lot of anger, given she’s the second victim.”

“Understandable.” She hesitated when she saw my car.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I caught her smile in the mirror as she slipped inside. “Nice.”

The hum of my car was entirely too quiet for two people who shared a past like we did. One moment I was watching the red light, and the next I was back at the river holding Bree’s hand, staring down a killer. It still burned me that the Barbed Wire Killer was never found and that he probably had more victims out there. But more than anything, it drove me crazy that he let us go. Why spare us and not those two innocent women he murdered?

“It’s green.” Bree pointed to the light, and I shook my thoughts clear.

Bree was thorough as we met with Maggie Deloitte’s parents. They walked us through some ex-boyfriends and a coworker she seemed to have a beef with. Bree snapped her photos, and once she got what she felt was all they could give, she thanked them and reassured them they’d hear the moment we had anything. I didn’t speak much; she had an easier way with people, and, apparently, I was intimidating. We headed back to the car.

“Want to go get your truck, or do you want a ride home?” I glanced at her in my front seat as she studied a photo. When she didn’t answer, I made the decision for her and headed for her place.

“Why did these murders happen? On paper Shelly’s boyfriend, Oliver, seemed wonderful, and Maggie’s ex-boyfriend appeared to be fine with the split. They both seemed like level-headed guys. Even Shelly’s coworker moved on to a different company and sounded fine about it. According to her family, Maggie was a nice young woman with a good job, good friends, yet she died in the public parking lot of a nightclub. It just feels so unnecessary. Neither of them was robbed or assaulted. The whole thing just seems off.” She sighed, then looked at me. “You’re quiet.”

“You’re me two weeks ago.” I shrugged. “I’ve run through every detail you are. I’ve come up with zilch. No clue as to the killer or motive.”

She frowned.