"But it was Lucia Shinn who ID'd him as Hammel's boyfriend. She's been trying to talk to you guys for weeks about this and no one would listen."
Santillo flushed an angry red, but he didn't say anything else. Eckhoff cleared his throat and made a move toward the door. “Let's get this done, Leighton."
* * * *
Eckhoff led them down the hall and past the cell where Raphael had been held. “Through here,” he said opening an unmarked door. “Standard set up, one way glass. We're equipped to record, but—"
"That won't be necessary,” Cyn said quickly.
"Not this time,” Eckhoff agreed. “You want me in there with you?"
"Duncan will be with me.” Eckhoff opened his mouth to protest, but Cyn raised a hand. “He won't say anything, but I want Ryder to see him. A little intimidation never hurt, Dean, and if Ryder killed those girls—"
"He killed them all right. That storage unit turned out to be one of those RV places. Most rent a big parking space, but our boy had a full garage, complete with running water and a sink in case he wanted to wash down the old Winnebago. He'd created a personal abattoir in there."
"Evidence?"
"The whole place reeked of bleach, but it looks like Hammel was spending a lot of time at his place when he killed her, because he had a lot of her personal stuff—books, papers, that sort of thing. He should have incinerated the whole batch. Lucky for us, he filed it all away in storage, nice and neat."
"Yeah, Todd's a neat guy. Any murder weapon?"
"Most likely a plain old barbecue fork. There were a few in the unit, high end, heavy duty types. ME's running tests looking for metal fragments in the neck wounds."
"Which they should have done before now."
Eckhoff shrugged. “Ten minutes, Leighton."
* * * *
Ryder looked up when they entered the room. He was sitting on a plain metal chair bolted to the floor. There was a matching table, but it had been pulled away and shoved against one wall so the prisoner sat exposed, hands cuffed behind his back, ankles manacled. He was still wearing a striped rugby shirt and khakis, but they didn't look quite as neatly pressed. “Who the f**k are you?” he snapped.
"Not important, Todd,” Cyn said pleasantly. “But since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. I'm the one who figured you out."
"Bullshit."
"Such a mouth.” She tsked. “So tell me. I know it all comes back to Patti. I figure she was probably an accident, maybe an argument. She wants to leave, you're upset—"
"Fuck that! Do I look like the kind of guy who needs to beg a woman to stay around? Shit. Two hours after she'd left, I had someone younger sliding into my bed."
"Yes, but did she slide back out of your bed, Todd? Your girlfriends have rather short life spans lately."
"That's not my fault. They hang around with f**king bloodsuckers, stuff's gonna happen."
Cyn looked at him and gave a smile that would have made Raphael proud. Todd Ryder obviously saw it because he started to sweat. “I'm sorry, Todd,” Cyn said sweetly. “I didn't introduce you to my associate.” She stood aside so he could see Duncan clearly. “This is Duncan."
Ryder's eyes flashed over to where Duncan stood with his back to the observation window, arms crossed casually.
"Yeah? Big f**king deal. You gonna have your boyfriend there pound on me or something? I'm terrified. Hope you got a good lawyer, lady, ‘cuz I'm not going down for something I didn't do. Fuck you."
Cyn shook her head in mock disappointment. “And here we've been nothing but friendly. But don't worry—"
"I'm not worried,” he cut in quickly, but Cyn continued as if he'd never spoken.
"...Duncan here's not going to hit you.” She leaned forward and confided, “It's not really his style. Is it, Duncan?” She glanced over her shoulder.
Duncan never changed position; he just opened his mouth and smiled.
Ryder's eyes widened and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead as the room filled with the stink of fear. “What the f**k's he doing here?” he gasped. “You can't do this. I've got rights."