The Trap Read online

  “I don’t know. I swear I only told Castillo.” Kyra pulled her keys from her purse and stabbed at the key fob. The lights on her car flashed once.

  Jake took in the busy street. Cars whizzed past on either side of the green strip down the middle of the boulevard, and people bustled through the crosswalks to get from their cars to restaurants and from their places of work. “Were you followed?”

  “What?” Kyra snapped her head around and winced, grabbing the back of her neck.

  “Could someone have followed you from the station? You did come here directly from the Northeast Division without going home first, right?” He eyed her work slacks and sweater beneath her jacket, her hair half in and half out of her customary ponytail she wore for work.

  “I did, but I didn’t notice anyone following me.”

  “Did you look?”

  “No.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “The Player already knows where I live and work. He doesn’t have to follow me, even though I am careful when I walk to and from my car. That’s why I had the pepper spray ready.”

  “So, someone could’ve been following you and you wouldn’t have known?” He circled her car as she opened the driver’s side door.

  “I suppose so.” She hunched her shoulders. “That means he was watching me on the street and knew where I went.”

  Jake slipped on a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and crouched on the sidewalk next to her car. He aimed the light from his cell phone at her chassis. On his knees, he crawled to the other side of the car, his hand trailing over the metal that comprised the underside of her vehicle. When his gloved fingers stumbled across a rectangular shape that moved when he nudged it, he ducked his head under the car, the light playing over the area where his fingers picked at the device.

  He pulled it off and cupped it in his hand as he rose to his feet. “He didn’t have to follow you. He attached this GPS device to your car. He may have been on your tail to see where you went when you got here, or maybe he just watched you walk toward the side street and then took up his position.”

  Kyra seemed to crumple and grabbed on to the car door before she slid to the ground. “How? Where did he do this?”

  Jake took two big steps to catch her in his arms. “It’s like you said, Kyra. He knows where you live and work. He could’ve attached it at any time. He even knew your car was parked on the same street as that motel where he told you to find Walker.”

  “C-can I see it? I want to know what one looks like—just in case.” She held out her cupped hand.

  “Don’t manhandle it on the off chance he left some prints.” He held the device out to her, his fingers on the edges.

  She took it from him the same way and examined it. “Should I leave it on the car, so I don’t tip him off?”

  “No.” He wiggled his fingers and she placed the GPS in his hand. Using his fingernail, he opened the rectangle and shook out a flat disc. “With the battery gone, it’s not going to function.”

  He snapped the device back together, peeled off one of his gloves and inserted the GPS into the glove, tying it off at the end.

  Kyra placed a hand against her throat. “He means business now, doesn’t he? No more fooling around. He wants to kill me.”

  Jake kissed her gently on the lips. “He’s gonna have to go through me first.”

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Jake didn’t even glance at Kyra’s desk when he walked into the task force room. She’d told him she was taking the morning off.

  He’d made sure she got home all right last night, put her to bed and hung out in her living room with Spot to keep watch. She had a top-notch security system at her apartment, but there was no way he wanted to leave her after the night she’d had.

  Maybe The Player had gotten the jump on her, literally, because she’d been focused on her session with Shai. She confirmed that under Shai’s guidance, she’d gone back to the night of her mother’s murder and had seen the killer—or at least the back of his head. She’d had a strong sense that The Player had turned around that night and looked at her, but the hypnosis wouldn’t take her there—yet.

  She’d also been sure The Player had been wearing something over his head or some kind of white or beige cap, which seemed odd—black ski mask like last night, yes, but light-colored cap? Maybe once he turned around, she couldn’t see his face, anyway. He didn’t like the idea that The Player might know Kyra was seeing a hypnotherapist.

  He’d pay a visit to Captain Castillo to make sure he hadn’t let that information slip to anyone. As he turned the corner from the war room, he almost plowed into a woman heading the opposite direction and pulled back.

  “Sorry.”

  She brushed her black hair from her eyes and held up her hands. “Totally on me. Mind on other things.”

  “Guilty.” He assessed her athletic frame, and then snapped his fingers. “You’re Dina Ferrari, right? I’m Billy Crouch’s partner. I know you’re helping him with his sister’s disappearance.”

  She thrust out her hand. “Billy may have mentioned you once or twice. Nice to meet you.”

  “How long have you been in the PI business?”

  “Couple of years.” She tilted her head, and her straight hair slipped over one shoulder. “Are you vetting me for Cool Breeze?”

  “He seems happy with your work.” He patted his pocket for the glove with the GPS device tied up inside, and remembered he’d left it at Kyra’s place. “I do have a question for you, though, if you don’t mind—professional question.”

  “My favorite kind.”

  “I thought I read about a program or something you can put on your phone that detects bugs and GPS devices. Do you have something like that?”

  “Absolutely. For yourself? The department?”

  “Both. I want it on my phone, but it’s for work on the task force.”

  “Tax deductible.” She grinned. “I can text you the link and you can buy and download it right to your phone. It’s really easy to use, like a scanner. It’ll pick up the waves of a bug and the signal of a GPS. You can get a detector that will have your phone emitting beeps and squeals.”

  “Sounds perfect.” He dipped his hand into his pocket for his personal cell phone and asked for her number. He called her and stored the contact. “Send it to me when you have it. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, Detective.”

  Jake continued down the hallway to Castillo’s office and listened for voices before tapping on the closed door. At Castillo’s invitation, Jake poked his head inside the office.

  Castillo’s face immediately flushed, and he blinked. Jake was probably the last person Castillo wanted to see.

  “Can I have a word?”

  “Shut the door.” Castillo folded his hands on the desk. “Have you decided what you’re going to do yet?”

  Jake sat on the arm of the chair. He didn’t plan to stay long. “Look, Kyra has the information you and Quinn kept from her all these years, and she’s taking steps. I don’t see any reason to spread that story around—especially with Quinn’s memorial and funeral right around the corner.”

  Castillo seemed to collapse in his chair. His chin quivered and he wiped a hand across his mouth. “I appreciate that.”

  Folding his arms, Jake said, “I’m not doing it for you, Castillo. I’m doing it for Quinn and for Kyra. She told you she was seeing a hypnotherapist to recover memories of that night, right?”

  “She mentioned it. I told her it was a good idea. She needs to try to remember that night to put it behind her.”

  “You know The Player attacked her last night.”

  “Of course I heard. I am still in charge of this task force.”

  “He attacked her when she was leaving her appointment with the hypnotherapist.”

  Castillo’s sharp intake of breath told Jake
he didn’t know that part. “Did you mention Kyra’s intention to undergo hypnosis to anyone?”

  “No.” Castillo smacked his hand on his desk. “Why would I do something like that? That only hurts me. You think I blabbed that information, and that’s how The Player tracked her down?”

  Jake scratched his chin. “No. He had other methods of tracking her down.”

  Castillo’s phone rang the same time Jake’s cell buzzed, but instead of dismissing him, Castillo held up a finger. “Hold on.”

  As the captain answered his call, Jake checked his phone and saw a text from Dina. She worked fast. Jake tapped the link, downloaded the app and paid for it, all while Castillo talked on the phone.

  He opened the app and made a few selections, but Castillo interrupted him. “I wanted to let you know that I’m retiring.”

  Jake glanced up, raising his eyebrows. “You are? You afraid I’m going to rat you out?”

  “I just can’t be in command of people who don’t respect me. You’ll never get that respect back for me, and I know it’s only a matter of time before you tell Billy. You two tell each other everything, as it should be. You’re good as partners and two of the best detectives in the department—and no, I’m not just blowing smoke.”

  Jake started to answer, but his phone buzzed in his hand and started making chirps and high-pitched squeals. He stared at the red lines jumping on the display and jerked to his feet.

  He held the phone in front of him and shifted his gaze to Castillo’s wide eyes and open mouth. Jake put his finger to his lips and scribbled on Castillo’s whiteboard.

  Your office is bugged.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kyra sucked in a sharp breath that rasped against her sore throat. She took a sip of tea laced with honey and said, “How do you know Captain Castillo’s office is bugged?”

  “I ran into Billy’s PI at the station, and she sent me a link to a bug tracker that works from phones. I was in Castillo’s office playing around with it, and it went off.”

  Wrapping her hands around the warm mug, Kyra asked, “Did you find the bug?”

  “We found it attached to a lamp on his desk—tiny thing. We left it there.”

  She choked on her next sip of tea, which didn’t do her throat any favors. “You left it?”

  “We didn’t want to tip off anyone listening that we found it. Castillo’s leaving the device there and not having any confidential conversations in his office, but we’re thinking of a way we can trip up the person who planted the bug.”

  “What does this mean, Jake?” Kyra massaged her temples with her fingertips. “Who could possibly get into the captain’s office to plant a bug?”

  “It could be the cleaning crew.” He cleared his throat. “Or a cop.”

  “You and Quinn always had your suspicions that The Player could be someone on the inside. Nobody wants to think a cop is a killer, working against his coworkers.” Kyra picked up the latex glove that contained the GPS tracker from her car and swung it from her fingertips. Was that why The Player always seemed to know where she was? “D-do you think that’s how...my attacker knew I’d be at Shai’s office last night?”

  “Possibly, or it could be the tracker on your car.”

  “What are you going to do with this information, Jake?”

  “Castillo has agreed to keep quiet about it for now. He’s going to make a list of people who have been in his office the past few weeks.”

  “Why two weeks? This could’ve been going on since the copycat slayings started last summer. He could’ve been keeping tabs on all the cases.”

  “Maybe, but bugs have to be replaced at some point.”

  She swallowed, placing her hand against her bruised neck. “Then what? What are you going to do with Castillo’s list?”

  He answered abruptly. “Start making discreet inquiries.”

  “You’re going to start investigating members of the task force?”

  “I have to, Kyra. Something isn’t right when the captain of a task force has his office bugged.” Jake paused. “Unless it’s Internal Affairs doing the bugging. Maybe they already know Castillo is a dirty cop, and they’re trying to catch him in the act. If so, they got an earful the other day when I came to him with what I’d found out about Galecki.”

  “Can you ask IA without jeopardizing the upper hand you have with this knowledge?”

  Jake whistled through his teeth. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to play my hand too soon. Let’s keep this quiet for now. I’ll tell Billy and that’s it. We can both do a little investigating on the side—just looking at schedules and possible alibis. We know The Player attacked you last night. We can start looking into the time frame for that, and for the night Walker got whacked.”

  “I will keep mum.”

  “How’s your throat today? You sound hoarse, like you have a cold.”

  “It hurts, but it’s better than it was this morning. I canceled all my appointments today, and I’m just exchanging emails with the Copycat Killers’ victims’ families. Tina’s and Ashley’s friends and families were relieved their killer is dead, and I haven’t heard from Erica’s family yet.” She paused and swirled her tea. “You did find enough evidence in Walker’s house and car to tie him to the slayings, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. His car was a treasure trove of evidence—hair, fibers, DNA—we got it all. Seems he was only careful when he dumped the body, not when he transported it. He probably figured he’d have time to clean out his car before we got a line on him, but he wasn’t counting on his mentor to end his killing spree.”

  “I’m holding my breath for a fifth. No offense, Detective, but I’m ready for the Copycat Player Task Force to break up.”

  “I am, too, and I have a feeling we’ve seen the end of the copycats.”

  “What makes you say that?” Her muscles tensed. She’d had the same feeling, but the alternative didn’t bode well for her.

  “The Player ended it himself. He stopped killing after his own reign of terror twenty years ago because he was afraid he’d get caught, or maybe he was locked up during that time, but I think he realizes he’s closer than ever to getting nailed today. I think he’s done. He can hibernate for another twenty years.”

  Kyra released a breath. “Except for one loose end.”

  “He’s not going to get to you, Kyra.” Jake’s phone beeped with a call on the other line. “Stay put today. I’ll drop by after work and bring you some chicken soup. Gotta go.”

  When the call ended, she cupped the phone in her hand and brought up her security cam for the outside of her apartment. Besides her neighbor upstairs and across the way doing his laundry, she didn’t see any movement. The Player wouldn’t come to her apartment. He must know about the security cameras by now.

  He’d never been caught on camera yet—not when he’d run over the homeless woman in Santa Monica after she’d done some dirty work for him, not when he murdered Sean Hughes, the blogger who was in contact with Copycat Three, not when he killed Quinn, not when he shot Copycat Four and not when he attacked her last night. He’d made some bold moves but hadn’t shown his hand yet.

  Would remembering his face in Shai’s office really make a difference? She could help a sketch artist with a composite, but she’d be recalling a man twenty years younger. It could be that her mother knew The Player, and maybe Kyra knew his name, too, as one of her mother’s many male friends. If that were the case, she could ID him, give him a name, but that’s not how The Player operated. He’d killed strangers.

  It didn’t matter. She’d carry on with the hypnotherapy and hope for the best—even if it were just for her own peace of mind.

  She dragged her computer into her lap and rubbed her hands together. More work while she dreamed of chicken soup with Jake.

  * * *

  THE NEXT DAY, Kyra stood in front of the mirror and
adjusted a scarf around the bruising on her neck. She didn’t need any more attention or sympathy today at the station.

  As she gulped down some orange juice standing up in the kitchen, she noticed the glove with the GPS device from her car secured inside on her coffee table. Jake had forgotten to take it with him again. He must be convinced The Player hadn’t left prints on it, but Kyra wanted to make sure. She rinsed out her juice glass, stuck it in the dishwasher and swung by the living room to pick up the tracker.

  As promised, Jake had delivered the chicken soup last night, along with a box of throat lozenges and probably more tea than had been dumped in Boston Harbor. He’d stayed with her most of the night, but didn’t sleep over. He had a busy day today, and she’d shooed him out.

  She knew he hated leaving her alone in her own place, but he was also on the feed for her security cams around her apartment. She had a feeling he watched them more obsessively than she did.

  An hour later when she got to the station and entered the task force war room, her gaze darted around the desks and studied the faces of the team members. She could usually gauge the point in an investigation by the activity level of the task force. People scurried about today, lots of phone calls and plenty of tapping away on keyboards, but the action lacked the manic, intense feel of when a killer was on the loose. They had their man—or at least one of them.

  Her head automatically swung toward Jake’s desk, but she knew he’d be out for most of the day. She pulled her laptop from her bag and grabbed the tied-up latex glove, setting it on her desk beside the computer. Once she logged in, checked her messages and sent Shai a text to confirm their appointment later today, she shoved back her chair and grabbed the glove, her phone and her makeup bag to touch up her bruises in the ladies’ room.

  She waved to Captain Castillo in the hallway on her way to the forensics lab, but had no intention of stepping inside his office as long as the bug was there. He and Jake could figure out a sting on their own. She didn’t want someone listening to her.