Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,71

serious and prim young woman. But that is definitely her. And I guess she became the reigning queen of escort services here about six to eight years ago... I don’t know. I didn’t pay that much attention to tabloids, but she was certainly becoming notorious at least five years ago. After this, though... So, Billie Bingham was at McCarron’s trial.”

“And now she’s dead!”

“Yes, a victim of this killer,” Keenan said thoughtfully, still looking at the screen.

“Keenan, I’ve watched this so many times; she looks at McCarron. And he looks at her. As though they know each other. But she wasn’t one of the delusional women testifying for him, saying he was a good man.”

“Tell me everything that you remember about your dad’s part in all this, the investigation, and the murders.”

Stacey waved a hand in the air. “In the end, as you know, McCarron admitted to a number of murders—not just the murders of Anderson and Vargas. But that’s what he was on trial for. There were other charges having to do with the murders. Charges that had to do with his attempts to bribe doctors for friends, that kind of thing.” She hesitated. “My dad was a private investigator; he was working for Anderson’s wife, and he had pictures of McCarron going into the building and coming out of it. There were no eyewitnesses to the murders, but they had proof that McCarron hired the man who was supposed to kill my father.” She paused, trying to remember what might be relevant. She looked at Keenan, frowning. “This may not have anything to do with anything, but why was Billie at that trial, looking as fresh and pure as a baby doll? Was that a planned costume for court, or did she make the change into what she was after the trial? And—” she added, frustrated “—what can it have to do with this case? Except that Billie was there, and now Billie has been murdered?”

“One of the men murdered was a surgeon who specialized in transplants. Heart transplants, to be exact. But he headed the department. And Anderson was a philanthropist, right? And an outspoken advocate for organ donation?”

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “In fact, their bodies were discovered by another transplant doctor, Dr. Henry Lawrence.” She gasped suddenly. “Is his name on the lists of doctors? I know he was up-and-coming. He was a protégé of Dr. Vargas’s. I remember that he cried at the trial. You should have seen the way that McCarron looked at him. McCarron just kept staring at him, as if he hated him so much. Well, of course, you can see it. It’s all in the video. Or, I should say, videos. There are hours of viewing pleasure to be found there,” she added dryly.

“Anything else from the video?” Keenan asked her.

“I guess that was it,” she said, worried that all she had done was recognize someone who couldn’t be the killer—since she was already dead.

Keenan pulled up the list of names of transplant doctors they were currently investigating. “I can’t find Dr. Henry Lawrence here,” he told Stacey. “I’ll have Angela search for him. He may have been so traumatized by what happened that he left the field and the area completely. But you’re right—if Billie Bingham was at that trial, who knows what else might connect.”

“But Billie is dead.”

He smiled at her. “That doesn’t mean that Billie wasn’t somehow involved.” He pushed back and told her, “There is an agent you haven’t met yet, Axel Tiger. He’s a friend of mine. He worked a really strange case in Florida—his home—recently.”

She smiled. “I know that I’m far from knowing the whole Krewe—I am, as you’ve often liked to remind me, a rookie.”

“I think I mentioned others with very different talents.”

“Axel has a different talent?”

“Axel is extremely talented, but no, he’s not the one with the unusual talent. His wife tried on a dress—and that led her to a murder victim. You see things in your dreams; she sees them when she touches things. Axel was down in Florida for a time, and came back to headquarters after a very sudden wedding. But a good one! Beside the point. They’re going to meet us tomorrow morning at the morgue.”

“At the morgue?”

“I’m going to ask her to touch a body.” He hesitated, looking at her. “And you.”

Stacey didn’t protest. “Okay. So, where do we go from here, until tomorrow morning?”

He couldn’t help the smile that curled into his lips. “Well, there’s the concept of