Debra Burroughs - Paradise Valley 04.5 - The Color of Lies (4 page)

“This is one of my favorite places in all of San Francisco,” he said, hearing the water lapping at the footings of the wooden walkway as the moon lit up the ripples across the bay.

“My favorite spot is looking at the city from the top of Coit Tower.” She snuggled into him.

“I love the smell of the sea air,” he said, pulling in a deep breath.

“Not me,” Miranda wrinkled her nose. “It’s too fishy. And there’s those pesky seagulls squawking all the time. I’d rather be in Golden Gate Park than at Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“Is there anything we agree on?” Colin chuckled.

She slid her arms around his waist as he enveloped her in his. “Yes. That we love each other.”

Colin lowered his head and hovered there, his lips almost touching hers. He looked deeply into her dark chocolate eyes and knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. As she closed her eyes, he kissed her, softly at first, then passionately.

He raised his head and her eyes fluttered open. Then he pulled the box from his pocket and dropped to one knee. He held out a diamond ring while she stared at him, speechless. “Miranda Cruz, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I’ll marry you.”

Excitement lit up her face, as a grin spread across his. He slipped the ring on her finger and stood up, pulling her into a tight embrace. He kissed her again and again.

“Why don’t we phone our families and tell them the news?” Miranda suggested, staring at the dazzling diamond ring, wiggling her finger.

“It’s late. We should wait until morning.”

“I think they’d want to know. Let’s call them now.”

~*~

The families were thrilled and everyone offered their best wishes. Colin and Miranda decided to keep the engagement a secret at work. If the Captain got wind of it, he would have to change their work assignments and not allow them to work together anymore, and Colin wanted to be able to keep his eye on Miranda for as long as possible.

Soon, Colin returned to the detective squad, back doing dangerous work in the Major Crimes Division. On occasion, Miranda was called in to assist, as would other officers as well. The longer they worked together, the more Colin thought about his mother’s words.

After work one day, Colin and Miranda grabbed a quick bite at a local café before heading to a Giants baseball game. They talked about the wedding plans and their hopes for the future.

“What do you think about children?” he asked, folding his giant slice of pizza in half.

“Whose children?”

“Ours. You do want to have children, don’t you?” Colin took a bite and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Miranda looked at him like he had grown two heads. “Um, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Perhaps someday, down the road, I guess. Although, parenthood doesn’t really mix with being a cop.”

“I’m a cop.”

“Sure, guys can be cops and have kids, because they have a wife at home. But women? I don’t know. It’s different for us. Why do you ask?”

“I think I’d like to have kids one day, at least a couple of them.”

She was taking a sip of her soda when he said it and she almost choked. “Oh, my gosh, Colin.” She grabbed her napkin and dabbed the soda that had sprayed on the table. “You never mentioned it before.”

“I know, but if we did have kids, I would want you to stay home, or at least take a desk job.”

“Me? Stay home?” She grimaced. “A desk job?” she huffed. “I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Give it some thought, Babe.”

Colin took another bite of his pizza, thinking. This was something they would have to work out before the wedding. Not harmonizing on their favorite place or the smell of sea air was one thing, but if they couldn’t agree on this, would it be a deal breaker?

Chapter 6

“So Miranda didn’t want children?” Ernie asked.

“Not really.” Colin lightly touched Emily’s jawline with the back of his fingers, then stood and stretched, pacing the small room, wishing she would wake up. “We talked about it a couple more times, but we hadn’t come to any sort of agreement yet before…”

Ernie nodded his understanding.

“I wonder if Emily wants kids,” Colin muttered to himself.

Ernie scooted to the edge of his chair, then stretched his own back before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “What happened to Miranda?”

~*~

Charlie sat at his desk, which backed up to Colin’s, his feet propped up, leaning back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head. He and Colin were talking about a suspect they needed to find—a guy who was wanted in the murders of a couple of high-class call girls. Both women were mid-twenties with long dark hair, found strangled in the same boutique hotel. The Mayor feared that this might be a serial killer, so he was putting pressure on the Captain to push his detectives to nail this guy.

“We need one of the girls to go undercover,” Charlie said.

Colin chuckled. “I don’t think you’re supposed to call them
girls
. They prefer
female officers
.”

“I can do it.”

Miranda stopped by the detective’s squad room on a break in the middle of the afternoon to say hello to Colin.

He shot up out of his chair. “No! What I mean is, it’s better if we have McNally or Franklin do this job. They’ve got more experience.”

“But they’re not as pretty as Cruz, here.” Charlie pulled his feet off the desk and brought his hands down. “And she’s got the look—young, long dark hair. Whoever takes on this job has to be believable. You know how these guys are—they rarely stray from type. It’s all part of the protocol.”

“Well, McNally’s fairly young,” Colin shot back. “She could pass for mid- to late-twenties. We’d just need a wig to cover that red hair.” He crossed his arms and sat back down.

“You think we can make McNally look like a woman someone would pay three grand to spend the night with?” Charlie laughed. “I think Cruz is our girl.”

“I want to do this, Colin. I’m not a rookie anymore.” She planted her hands on her hips. “How can I ever make detective if I stay a patrol cop?”

Colin looked at her for a prolonged moment, considering the danger he’d be placing her in. He wanted to protect her, keep her out of harm’s way. This woman was going to be his wife, and she could possibly be the mother of his children, if he ever convinced her of that. He considered all the things that could go wrong, all the ways she could—well, if something happened he’d never get a chance to persuade her.

“I’d rather you didn’t…”

“But?” She stared at him with a glimmer of expectancy in her eyes.

When it came right down to it, he had to think like a cop, consider the next woman that this killer would murder if they didn’t stop him. “
But
, you are perfect for the job.”

Colin raised his eyes to the ceiling. What was he doing? Throwing the woman he loved to the sharks, that’s what. He set his jaw. He knew she had made up her mind, and he had to trust her instincts, even if they weren’t as well-honed as his were. “You’ll be walking into a dangerous situation and there’s always the chance that things could go wrong, Miranda—horribly wrong.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Charlie said.

“We’ll have to get the Captain to approve it, but if he’s okay with it, I guess I’m okay.” Colin heard himself say the words, but he could hardly believe they were coming out of his mouth. An ominous feeling settled on him, sending a chill shimmying down his back. No. He would trust her. She was a good cop. She’d make an even better detective someday.

Against all hope, the Captain approved Miranda to go undercover as a call girl. Colin’s gut clutched at the news, but he would encourage and support her, give her the benefit of his experience in the field—and his protection.

~*~

The murders of the prostitutes had both happened on Friday nights, two weeks apart, at the same hotel—the St. James. From the hotel’s security video, the detectives had a general description of the man, but he was always careful not to get his face on camera. Each time he used a different name to register at the hotel. Both turned out to be bogus, using stolen credit cards, so there was no way to know what name he would register under the next time.

Hoping the killer would stay on schedule, Colin and Charlie set up their sting operation with Miranda and the hotel management for that Friday night, two weeks after the last murder.

The team huddled in the detective’s squad room for last minute instructions. There would be several officers at strategic places around the hotel, on each of the five floors, and in the hotel bar.

Miranda was dressed in a short, tight black dress that exposed her long shapely legs. She wore a wire and she’d give direction to the team when the suspect made contact. If he made contact.

Once the team was at the hotel, Colin got in position, sitting alone at a small table in the hotel bar, watching as Miranda pulled up on a stool at seven pm. She sat there nursing a soda for the next couple of hours, occasionally talking to the bartender.

A little after nine, a man fitting the description leaned on the bar beside her and he ordered a drink. She struck up a conversation, until the man’s wife showed up and pulled him away.

“Not our guy,” she whispered into the mic.

Before long, another man fitting the description sat on the stool beside her. He asked if he could buy her a drink and she agreed.

Colin listened as she chatted him up.

“Do you come here often?” she asked, toying with the rim of her glass.

“Once in a while,” the man replied.

She dipped her finger in the drink and then raised it to her lips, licking it. “What do you do for a living?”

“Import, export.”

“That sounds
very
interesting.” She twirled a section of her hair around her finger. “So, do you live around here?”

“No, I’m here on business. You certainly ask a lot of questions.”

“You can’t fault a girl for being curious, trying to find out who she’s spending time with?”

“Would you like to finish this conversation up in my hotel room?”

He must be buying that she’s a call girl. She is rather convincing…

“All right,” Miranda replied, casting a sexy smile.

The man slid off the chair and his gaze swept in Colin’s direction. Colin lowered his eyes, hoping he hadn’t been made. He didn’t seem to have been, as the man helped Miranda down from her barstool.

She glanced at Colin as she walked away, and his gut twisted in a knot. Something didn’t feel right. Maybe this wasn’t their guy. What if he was a
real
customer looking to score? They hadn’t planned for that.

Colin watched them leave the bar area, giving them time to board an elevator and start up to the room. “Do you have eyes on Miranda and the subject?” He spoke into his mic—the tech was in the control van, monitoring the audio feed and the security cameras.

“I lost audio, but I saw them come out of the bar—they aren’t in any of the elevator videos though.”

“What do you mean they aren’t in the elevator video? Why not?”

“Can’t say,” the tech responded. “Maybe the guy needed an ATM machine.”

“Not funny.” Colin raced out of the bar and scanned the lobby—no Miranda. “How about out front?” he shouted into the mic, eliciting a sharp cry of pain from the tech guy.

“No, not out front either.”

He ran over to the counter where a couple of hotel employees were checking in guests. “Hey, did you see a man and woman come out of the bar? She was attractive, long dark hair, short black dress. She was with a man—about six two, medium build, short brown hair.”

“No, sorry,” the man behind the counter said, shaking his head.

“Me either,” said the female employee.

“You?” Colin asked frantically, grabbing the male guest’s arm. The man shook his head.

“Code red, all officers, code red. Miranda and the subject have disappeared. Spencer, have the entire hotel searched.”

“Got it, Andrews.”

“Get an ambulance down here to stand by,” Colin ordered.

“Roger that.”

He turned and looked over the lobby, his gaze darting around, as a bellman came out of a dimly lit hallway by the elevators.

“Colin,” a man said.

Colin whirled around. It was the plain-clothes cop that had been stationed in the foyer.

“Where did they go?” Colin shouted at the cop.

“I was sitting there,” he pointed to a chair against the wall, “and I saw them come out and walk toward the elevator. Then this lady walked over and sat near me with her little Chihuahua and I sneezed a few times—I’m highly allergic to dogs, you see.”

“You let them get away!” Colin yelled. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I assumed they got on the elevator.”

“They didn’t,” Colin growled.

The cop was trying to explain something to Colin about it being impossible to sneeze with your eyes open, that he was sorry, but Colin spied the bellman walking by. He put his hand out and stopped him. “Down that hall, did you see a man and woman, attractive brunette with a short black dress? She was with a man in a white shirt and dark pants.”

“No, sorry,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose, and he kept walking.

Colin surveyed the lobby, he took in every nook and cranny that was visible.

Where could they have gone?

Maybe they weren’t somewhere visible, at least from the lobby.

The stairs!

“Hey!” Colin sprinted after the bellman and grabbed his arm again. “Where are the stairs?”

He pointed back to a row of potted ficus trees, about twenty feet away. “Past the ficus trees, around the corner, halfway down the hallway.”

Colin raced to the trees and flew around the corner, sprinting down the hallway. Gun drawn, he pushed through the door, climbing the stairs two at a time.

“Stairway from first to second floor—clear!” he shouted into his mic, but kept going.

As he was nearing the landing before the third floor, a woman’s legs were visible through the open steps and his heart tumbled into his stomach.

“Miranda!” he screamed, racing the last few stairs to her.

She was sprawled awkwardly on the landing, her head hanging forward, her back pressed against the concrete wall. Her throat had been cut, blood dripping down her neck and onto her chest.