Page 22 of Dark Angel
The visit to the ME had been a complete waste of time. He hoped that Beth’s faith in Dr. Shane Wolfe was justified because something about this girl’s death didn’t sit right with him. It was very unusual for an ME to go to the trouble and expense of completing a Snapshot DNA analysis to discover her identity but not fully investigate the cause of death. It didn’t take a doctor to notice the new bruising on the back of the girl’s arms or the blushing across her shoulders. It could be consistent with hitting the water from the bridge. One thing for darn sure, it wasn’t the result of livor mortis. He walked to the sedan and settled Bear in the back seat. He slid behind the wheel, went over the case file, and made a few notes as he waited for Beth.
He looked up as Beth came out the door of the medical examiner’s office and then glanced at his watch. As she slipped into the passenger seat, he turned to her. “If you’re not feeling sick after being in the morgue, we should find a quiet restaurant and work out what we’re going to do next. We are going to hunt down the pimp, right? I have his name from a statement by one of the streetwalkers. So there’s a lead we can follow, if we can find this woman by the name of Billie Jean. The pimp is known as Spike.”
“Well, there’s no way a hooker is going to climb into the car if I’m there, and chances are they’ll recognize this ride as law enforcement.” Beth shrugged, reached for a bottle of water, and screwed off the top. “I figure we split up. I’ll go grab some clothes from Target and hit the streets. I’ll attract attention from the girls. They don’t appreciate others taking their spots. I’ll see if I can locate Spike. He wouldn’t be suspicious of me, and I know I’m older than most of his girls, but with enough makeup I can probably convince him to take me into his stable. So, we hit the stores first and then work out our plan.”
Convinced Beth had lost her mind, Styles stared at her. “I’m not sending you out there without a wire and the chances of organizing that this late in the day are impossible. How the heck am I going to know if you’re okay?”
“You won’t, but if this guy is running a stable of underage girls, I’ll need to get them out of there, so having you waiting in position with this big old sedan will be good enough.” Beth smiled at him. “You don’t have to worry about me, Styles. I’m a big girl.”
He looked at the diminutive Beth Katz and shook his head. “So, you get them out of there and then what? All that will happen is he’ll recruit another group. You know darn well there’s a network of pedophiles out there who move kids around. Working the streets is the end of the road and where kids end up when their owners need a new toy. They don’t care if the girls die, take their own lives, or overdose. They’re just a commodity. Removing the girls from him won’t solve the problem. You know that, right?” He started the engine and headed toward a shopping mall.
“I know this is just the tip of the iceberg, Styles.” Beth sipped her water and sighed. “It would take me maybe weeks, months, or years to surf the dark web to discover where and who these people are, but they’re out there.” She leaned back in her seat. “Right now, we save the ones we can and continue our work on the Pied Piper case. Once we have this guy, we can concentrate on hunting down the major players in this sex slave ring and bringing them to justice.”
Styles nodded. “One case at a time. I know you want to save the kids, but right now taking down the Pied Piper is a priority. We know he’ll strike again soon.”
“Oh, we’ll find him.” Beth huffed out a long breath. “He’s already made two mistakes, the two girls he abducted showing up alive. Well, for a time after he abducted them at least. This indicates he is holding the girls somewhere, and then moving them on.” She shot a glance at him. “You know he’ll never give up a name. He’ll keep his secrets to the grave, but we’ll stop him.” She drank more water. “Then we’ll go chase down everyone he associated with, and if he thinks they can hide on the dark web, he’s mistaken.”
Allowing her words to sink in, Styles stared at her. The dark web was a mystery to him. “So you see this pedophile or slaver ring as a large web of people with one fat spider sitting in the middle directing traffic?”
“I guess you could look at it that way.” Beth smiled. “Unless you understand how to negotiate code streams and discover the dark web universe, that would be a good analogy. The dark web does spread out in countless strands of data. The problem is most of them go nowhere. This is where my expertise comes into play. I know my way around and I never give up.”
Suddenly seeing Beth in a different light, he eyed her with curiosity. He’d heard she was like a dog with a bone. He nodded. “Finding the pimp might give us a clue we can use. If we take him in, we might be able to persuade him to give up his contact’s information in a deal. I’m confident that together we can cut off at least one leg of the spider.”
“Oh, trust me, when we do this, the moment I find the first leg I’ll be squashing the whole spider.” Beth grinned at him. “That spider is mine.”
TWENTY-THREE
After gathering everything she needed, Beth dumped the shopping bags in the back of the sedan alongside Bear. She enjoyed this part of her work. The thrill of a dangerous mission made her feel alive. Although, joining the undercover unit had been a ploy to avoid attracting suspicion. She needed an excuse to explain her disguises and now they’d become a necessary part of her job, but being careful to never be perfect, like her alter ego, was the key. As the Tarot Killer, she became the person, but as the FBI undercover agent, her disguise was a simple facsimile.
She smiled at Styles. “I have everything I need.”
“Good, I’ll find a restaurant.” He turned the vehicle around and headed downtown.
During the meal they scanned the case files, hunting down names they could use. As Billie Jean had mentioned the pimp by name, Beth would use her as a contact to get an introduction to Spike. She checked her watch and looked at Styles across the table. He looked weary and she hoped he wouldn’t fall asleep when she needed him watching her back. “This could take hours, you know. These people all know each other, and I need a darn good cover story to get inside.”
“Going undercover takes weeks of planning, listening devices, and a complete team of people watching your back.” Styles turned his glass around in his long fingers and shook his head. “I’m going to be completely useless sitting down the block in a vehicle they’ll make as soon as I stop at the curb.” He blew out a long sigh. “Having me close by will only draw more attention to you, not me.”
Shrugging, Beth pulled out her phone and scrolled through advertisements for rentals. “Look at this.” She held up the screen. “Casual rentals—open twenty-four hours a day.” She checked the location. “Drop me at the hotel and then go and pick up a van or something inconspicuous.” She shrugged. “They have them available.” At his pinched expression, she pulled out her credit card and handed it to him. “Put it on my card.”
“That’s not necessary. We have an expense account. I’ll use mine.” Styles pushed it back toward her. “Although, I’m not too sure we’ll get the cost of everything you purchased at Target reimbursed.”
Beth smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for them. Now go. I’ll get dressed.”
Later in the hotel room, Beth stared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d tucked her dark blonde hair under a platinum-blonde wig that hung down to her waist and had full bangs. Contacts had changed her blue eyes to bright green and she’d squeezed into a tight white elasticized top and a leather miniskirt. A pair of red stiletto heels completed her outfit. She’d added a few other accessories from the stash she’d hidden in her luggage. The dangly gold earrings were in fact lock picks and her belt, once unclasped, transformed into a garrote. She arranged the wig and pushed a pair of eight-inch long hatpins into each side. The decorated tops made them resemble a normal hair clip. She’d had these pins made especially from steel and kept the points deadly sharp. The brooch she attached to her top held a detachable shuriken. The Japanese throwing star was held in place with a magnet. She’d used this method of killing before and was an expert at throwing them. Going undercover to her was just like moving from one place to another, she’d done this so many times before as she stalked her victims. Over the years, she’d discovered that being prepared for anything and paying attention to details gave her the edge over anyone that she preyed upon.
The FBI agent side of her wanted to get the young girls in Spike’s stable away without any bloodshed, but then there was Spike. They needed information from him to hunt down the ringleader of the operation supplying these kids, but the serial killer side of her needed to appease her dark side and remove the piece of trash from existence. She considered the problem and sighed. Spike was likely the end of the supply chain. Her dark side seeped into her consciousness in a whisper. It certainly had a convincing argument and she smiled in the mirror, seeing her other side reflected in her eyes. After all, what was the value of one piece of trash in a ton of garbage?
She picked up a small purse, carrying some of the same items she’d found in the purses of prostitutes she’d searched during raids. She’d aged the shoes and bag by rubbing them with a steel wool scrubber. Adding a spray of very cheap perfume, she slipped out of the door and knocked on Styles’ room. As he opened the door, she smiled at him and gave him her little girl voice. “Ready to party?”
“Ah… I think you have the wrong room.” Styles shut the door in her face.
Laughing, Beth hammered on the door. “Open up, Styles.” When the door opened, Beth did a twirl. “I can’t believe I fooled you.”
“Beth?” Styles stared at her, his expression incredulous. “I would never have recognized you. You look like a kid and even your face shape is different.” He looked closer. “Your eyes are emerald-green. How did you do this in such a short time?”
In her time in the FBI, Beth had used a number of half-truths to get by. She had, in fact, completed a special-effects makeup course, and many other useful courses to enable her to transform into different identities when the need arose. She’d passed as both male and female many a time and with her skill could change into a different person like a chameleon in a very short time. She considered her reply for a beat. “Oh, I was very involved in the drama society in my hometown. If I hadn’t been so driven to join the FBI, I would have turned my sights toward being an actor.”
“Well, you’ll need all your skills to deceive Spike.” Styles looked her up and down and then turned to grab his jacket. “I just hope he doesn’t ask you for a demonstration.” He told Bear to stay and shut the door before leading the way to the elevator. “Here, put my jacket around you before anyone sees you with me.” He scowled at her grin. “You know darn well if it gets back to Lowe that I’ve had a hooker in my hotel room, it will get back to the director. What we’re doing here tonight isn’t something I want to explain. It goes against procedure putting you at risk like this.”
