Karen Rose - Count to Ten

"You done with the pictures?" Sam asked the tech. "Then let's roll him. Gently." Sam and Reed lifted and Mia crowed.

"There it is," she said. "Jackknife with the blade pulled out." It lay flat on the bed.

"Don't touch it," Sam snapped when she reached a gloved hand under the body. "If it's what I'm thinking, you don't want to touch it."

Mia brows went up. "Poison?"

"Yeah." Sam crouched down, shone a flashlight at the boy's bare back. "From the lividity and the bruising, I'd say he was lying on the hilt of the knife before he died."

"He fell on it," she said thoughtfully. "Now, where would Jeff get a knife?"

"Same place Manny got matches?" Reed countered.

"Looks like Manny may have been telling the truth. Did you look at those matches?"

Reed shook his head. "No, but I want to now."

Sam looked from Reed to Mia. "You're thinking they were booby-trapped."

"Yeah." Reed nodded and turned to where Secrest stood watching from the doorway. "Do you still have the matches you found in Manny's room?"

Secrest nodded. "In my office. I'll get them for you."

Mia held up her hand. "Mr. Secrest, just a minute please. Who were the boys in Jeff's group? The one's who shared the shower hour?"

"Jeff, Manny, Regis Hunt, and Thaddeus Lewin. The boys call Thad 'Faggeus'." An uncomfortable expression tightened Secrest's face. "Thad was taken to the clinic Thanksgiving night."

"For?" Mia asked.

"He complained of a stomachache," the nurse said. "But he'd been assaulted."

Secrest moved so that the nurse could get through. She stood looking at Jeff with a curious mixture of contempt and… satisfaction that made Reed frown.

"Assaulted how?" Reed asked and she looked up, met his eyes.

"Thad was sodomized. There was rectal tearing. He denied it happened."

"And you think Jeff did it," Reed said quietly.

She nodded. "But Thad wouldn't talk. All the boys were afraid of Jeff."

"Which is why you're glad he's dead," Mia said and the nurse's eyes went hard.

"I'm not glad he's dead." She shrugged. "Per se. But he was a vile, angry, mean boy. We were terrified of what he would do when he was released next month. Now we don't have to be afraid anymore." Suddenly she snapped her gaze up to Secrest. "Thad had a visitor Thanksgiving night. Devin White. Thad called him."

"Your trigger," Reed murmured.

"You're right," Mia murmured back, then cleared her throat. "I'd like to take Thad and Regis Hunt downtown for a chat. Line up your advocates and have them meet us there." She looked around. "Where's Bixby? I would have thought he'd be here for this."

Again Secrest looked uncomfortable. "He hasn't arrived yet."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. I'll get a unit to his house and an APB for his car."

Friday, December 1, 10:10 a.m.

The manager at the Beacon Inn was irritable. "Excuse me," Mia said.

He didn't look up. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you'll need to wait your turn."

The customer at the counter smirked. "End of the line's down there," the man said.

"Want me to teach him some manners?" Reed murmured behind her and she huffed a chuckle, ignoring the shiver that raced down her spine. This was why she didn't do cops and why it was against regulations to do partners. Even temporary ones. It was too damn hard to concentrate. She'd pulled off being cool and collected when he'd asked about us but it had taken everything she'd had. Now she focused on the hotel manager who'd made the unfortunate choice to ignore her.

"No, let me." She slapped her shield on the counter. "Take a break, pal."

The manager's look was murderous as his eyes lifted. "What now?"

Mia frowned at him. "What do you mean, 'what now?" You, wait over there," she said to the customer who was no longer smug. "I'm Detective Mitchell, Homicide. This is my partner. Lieutenant Solliday, OFI. What do you mean, 'what now?'"

"Homicide? I was afraid of that." His eyes filled with weary resignation. "I'm sorry. Half my staff is out with the flu and my assistant manager never showed up for her shift this morning. I'm Chester Preble. How can I help you?"

"First, tell me what's happened here," she said, softening her tone.

"Officers in uniform came by this morning, checking out a missing person report. Niki Markov. She checked in Wednesday and her husband called Thursday morning. Said she wasn't answering her phone. I told him perhaps she'd stepped out." He shrugged uneasily. "People come here to get away from their spouses, if you know what I mean. We try to be discreet."

"But the husband filed a missing person report," Mia said, instinct sending a new shiver down her spine. "And she hasn't come back."

"She wasn't due to check out until today. Her clothes are still hanging in her closet."

"What room is she in?" Mia asked.

"Room 129. I can take you to it if you give me just a minute to check out the people who have planes to catch."

"Sir," she said sharply, "this is a homicide investigation. These people have to wait."

"You found her… body, then?" he asked, some of the color draining from his face.

"No. I"m investigating another homicide. A couple who checked out Wednesday was killed last night. Joe and Donna Dougherty. Can you see what room they were in?"

He tapped a few keys, then all his remaining color drained away. "Room 129."

"Hell," Solliday murmured.

Mia raked her fingers through her hair. She had a headache brewing. "Yeah."

Friday, December 7, 10:50 a.m .

"You rang?" Jack asked and came in room 129 with his CSU team, all wearing white coveralls.

"Niki Mnrkov. reported missing This was Joe and Donna Dougherty's room until Wednesday," Mia said.

"You think he came, thinking they were still here," Jack said. "And found Markov."

"Her clothes are in the closet," Solliday said. "But all her suitcases are gone. Those are her sales materials stacked there on the bed."

Jack grimaced as he grasped what she and Solliday had already surmised. "Oh God." Then he gave a brisk nod to his team. "Start checking this room," he said. "I'll check out the bathroom." Quickly, capably, he removed the trap from the tub. "We'll check it for hair and… other stuff." He then treated the shower tiles with Luminol. Thirty minutes later, he turned out the lights.

Every surface glowed. For a few beats, the three of them just stared.

"That's a hell of a lot of blood," Jack finally said. "Given the suitcases are gone, 1 think a reasonable assumption is-"

"That he dismembered her," Mia finished grimly. "Good God. I'm losing count." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "Caitlin, Penny, Thompson, Brooke and Roxanne…"

"Joe and Donna," Solliday added quietly. "Jeff and now Niki Markov. That's nine."

She looked at him. "Count to ten?" she asked and he shrugged.

"Maybe. Although he had nothing against this woman."

"She was an accident," she murmured. "Like Caitlin. Wrong place, very wrong time."

"I'll see what I can find," Jack said. "In all this mess, he had to have left something."

"And I'll get the information on her next of kin. I got the number for Donna's from her boss on the way over." She sighed, dreading the task as she dreaded no other. "Then I'll tell Markov's husband and Donna Dougherty's mother that they're dead."

"I'll tell them," Reed said. "You don't have to do that alone, Mia."

She nodded wearily, surprising him. "All right. Call us when you find something, Jack. We'll see if he took Markov's car. Hopefully we'll find her body."

Friday, December I, 11:50 a.m.

Jenny Q slid her tray next to Beth's and sat down. "So what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. I do know I'm not missing this, Jenny. He's being so damn stubborn."

Jenny sighed. "And I had my sister all ready to cover for us. Cost me, too."