“He was a hostile witness from the start,” Ken said. “He was irritated and angry each time Jim and I interviewed him. He was uncooperative and considered unstable.”
Julia clicked to a crime-scene photo displaying a naked body hanging in a bleak warehouse. “Note the bindings securing the victim’s hands and feet. The knot work wasn’t elaborate and was associated with some bondage fetish cultures.”
“Do you think she was a willing participant?” Bowman asked.
“I think she knew her killer. She was arrested for prostitution and drug distribution several times. The medical examiner tested her blood and found high levels of cocaine.”
“There were no signs of bruising on her body, suggesting she might have known her killer,” Ken said. “Another reason we focused on Gene Tanner.”
The next slide featured a young African American woman. “This is the second victim, Tamara Brown, who was age twenty-one at the time of her death. Tamara also had an arrest record for prostitution and drugs. She was found in an abandoned warehouse two blocks from Stella’s.” The next image featured Tamara Brown’s lifeless body suspended from a beam.
“She’s displayed differently,” Shield noted.
Julia nodded. “Yes. The knots were more complex, and her arms were extended as if she were a puppet. The medical examiner believed she asphyxiated over several hours.”
“That’s slower than Tanner. He was prolonging the kill,” Bowman said.
“That was the theory.” Julia clicked to a series of forensic slides. “Hair and semen samples were found on her body and tested for DNA, but there were no hits. I’m hoping subsequent technology might discover what wasn’t available to the lab in 1992.”
“The clothes were found near their bodies in all three cases,” Andrews said. “Was DNA pulled from their clothing?”
“Yes,” Ken said. “The lab results were inconclusive.”
Andrews raised a brow. “From all three cases?”
“Yes,” Ken said.
Andrews stared at the screen. “Continue, Agent Vargas.”
“Brown had been dead approximately four days when discovered,” Julia said. “During that time, Gene Tanner was in Atlantic City with dozens of witnesses corroborating an alibi. Security cameras also had him on video.”
“There were no large blocks of time during his trip that he was unaccounted for?” Bowman asked.
“There was a five-hour stretch at four a.m. when he left the casino and went to his room,” Ken said. “There was no record of Tanner flying back to Virginia. And he’d have to have averaged one hundred and eleven miles per hour to make the round-trip during the gap. And that leaves no time to commit the murder.”
“Private plane?” Shield asked.
“No flight plans were filed at any of the small airports within one hundred miles of Richmond during this period,” Ken said.
“So Tanner was out as a suspect,” Andrews said.
“Correct.” She pressed the remote. The second victim appeared. “Because the temperature was unseasonably cold, Tamara Brown’s body was intact. This time, the victim had bruising on her cheek that suggested a struggle,” Julia said.
“Jim and I spent hours at the scene searching for evidence. We found nothing. Whoever this killer was, he was meticulous.”
“The detectives’ notes suggest they thought the murders were sexual in nature. As I said, the bindings are similar to bondage and discipline, sadism and masochism, known as BDSM,” Julia said.
“Jim and I interviewed dozens of people in and around the club where Brown worked. Only a handful made the short list, but we couldn’t prove anything.”
Julia clicked to the next slide. “Ten days later, victim number three, Vicky Wayne, an exotic dancer, was discovered in a warehouse a block from the first. Her body was suspended from the second-story support beams, and it likely took her hours to die.” The next slide featured the DMV photos of Rene, Tamara, and Vicky. “The primary connection to all three was that they worked within several blocks of Stella’s.”
“What about the original witnesses?” Andrews asked. “How many are still available for interviews?”
“I made a list of the ten primary suspects and witnesses. The only suspect I can’t locate is Stuart Lambert, who worked in a video porn shop located on Cary Street.”
Andrews made a note on a small pad. “Have you made contact with any of the witnesses?”
“Not yet.”
“What do you want from Shield Security?” Shield asked. “The state lab could retest the DNA.”
“There’s a long waiting list of active cases. Our cold case has twenty-five-year-old DNA and has the lowest priority. This could drag out for years without your assistance.”
“Are there any similar cases like this one anywhere else in the country?” Bowman asked.
“I did an extensive data search and found no other killings that had any similar hallmarks,” Andrews said. “The killer either went dark after the third murder or died.”
“One theory was that Jim Vargas was the killer,” Shield offered.
Ken’s gaze rose. “Hey, now. That bullshit theory was never proven. Came down to a bunch of reporters angling for headlines and bylines.”
Shield drew in a slow breath. “You have DNA collected from the clothing of three victims. All samples tested inconclusive. That seems statistically unrealistic.”
Ken might have had his doubts about Jim, but he wouldn’t allow speculations outside his inner circle. Julia sensed this and laid a hand on his shoulder. “There were multiple problems with the lab that fall. The Hangman wasn’t the only case that had trouble.”
“So if we retest and find Jim Vargas’s DNA on the clothing of the victims, then what?”
Julia nodded. “Mr. Shield, we follow up on any and all leads regardless of where they take us. If you find evidence proving my father was the killer, I’ll accept it.”
“Are you sure about that?” Bowman’s demeanor had sharpened.
“I’m sure, Mr. Bowman,” Julia said. “I want it solved.”
“Jim Vargas didn’t leave a suicide note, is that correct?” Shield asked.
“He did not,” Ken said.
“This isn’t some attempt to clear his name, is it, Agent Vargas?” Shield challenged.
Shield was playing devil’s advocate, but he no doubt echoed the thoughts everyone on the committee harbored. She admired their candor.
“Nothing changes the fact that three women were slowly suffocated until dead and displayed for everyone to see,” Julia said. “These women deserve closure. With or without your help, I’ll work this case. However, I would rather work with Shield Security. You have tremendous resources.”
“Do you really believe you can work with us?” Andrews asked. “The risks you took as an undercover agent nearly got you killed.”
“I do take calculated risks, Mr. Andrews. It’s part of being a cop. Yes, I paid a price for it during my last undercover job, but a large-scale drug dealer is now on his way to prison and facing twenty years.”
“It was my understanding that the operation was aiming higher than Santiago,” Shield pressed. “And the investigation was compromised. Whatever leads you had to the very top evaporated.”
“Undercover operations like that are fluid,” she said. “Everyone can plan all they want, but things can go sideways in a heartbeat.”
“So you’re saying you’d take a risk if the situation called for it in this investigation?” Shield asked.
“Absolutely, I sure as hell would. I don’t see how—” Hearing her temper bubbling around the words, she paused. “I’m a professional. My objective is to solve this case.”
Shield’s expression was impossible to read as he studied her.
Bowman tapped his finger on the table. “Agent Vargas, I think we’ve heard all we need to. We’ll contact you by close of business today with our decision.”
The abruptness of his dismissal caught her a little shor
t. She’d expected more questions. This likely didn’t bode well. She’d shown her temper and now sensed a hell no by close of business. Not the best first impression when trying to woo an ally. Shit.
“Thank you for having us.” She reached for her purse. “Ken?”
Ken rose, frowning at the group. “She’s one hell of a cop. You’d be a fool not to work with her.”
Color burned her cheeks. She didn’t need anyone defending her. If she’d fumbled this interview, so be it. She wasn’t going to apologize.
Shield rose and came around the table, extending his hand first to Ken. “Thank you for coming.” Cool, steely eyes shifted to her. “It’s good to have passion, Agent Vargas.”
Bowman came around the table and shook Ken’s hand and then hers. Again, another unreadable expression. “Thank you for coming.”
This was the politest brush-off she’d ever received. “Thank you all for hearing the presentation.”
“Mr. Andrews will escort you out,” Bowman said.
A fitting end. “Great.”
She and Ken moved toward the elevator, but she didn’t bother to glance back at Bowman and Shield. She pressed the button to head down.
The doors opened. Ken and Andrews stepped in after her. She pushed the first-floor button. A dull headache throbbed, and she set her sights on a cigarette and a shot of tequila.
Andrews escorted them to the front door and thanked them again, and they left the building and crossed to her car.
Inside the SUV, Ken clicked his seat belt as she slid behind the wheel. “That didn’t go well, did it?”
“Not as well as I’d hoped.” Stay positive. Stay positive. “They were trying to amp us up to see if we really cared about the case.”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have defended you. Made you look weak.”
“You had my back. Thank you.”
He twisted one of the buttons on his jacket cuff. “I wish I could have done more.”
“You were great. I dug my own grave, Ken. I’m too much of a cowboy.”
“Like your old man.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, they didn’t say no.”
“They will by close of business.” She slowly backed out of the spot, hoping it wouldn’t be her last time at Shield Security.