Twisted Prey (Lucas Davenport #28)(106)

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BOB AND RAE DIDN’T QUITE BUY IT.

“There was the smell of the gunpowder—that’s what I noticed—and the smell of blood. And the odors from the forest outside. And then Chase got shot . . . It’d be impossible to pick out a dab of perfume,” Rae said. “I mean, I’m wearing perfume and I can’t even smell myself.”

“I smelled it,” Lucas said.

“Even if you did, a jury would never convict,” Bob said. “It’s useless as evidence.”

“Ah, you’re right, you’re right,” Lucas said.

“We need some sleep,” Rae said. “Let’s get some sleep and think about it in the morning.”

“You are correct about one thing, Lucas,” Bob said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That old lady is dead.”





30


Forte called early, eight o’clock, and the first thing he said was, “They found the old lady about thirty feet from the end of her driveway, under a bush. Your shooter, Suzie—whatever her name is—apparently flagged her down as she was coming out. Shot her in the face.”

“It wasn’t Suzie,” Lucas said. “It was Taryn Grant.”

Long silence. “Lucas . . .”

“Yeah, I may be full of shit.” The memory of the scent was beginning to fade. “Last night, I was sure of it.”

He explained, and Forte reacted the same way Bob and Rae had: “You might be right, but it’s useless.”

“Yeah, I know. So what do I do next? Everyone we had tagged on the Smalls thing is dead. All dead except Grant.”

“And you don’t have a thing on her,” Forte said. “Might be time to wrap it up. I’m sure Smalls will be happy enough.”



* * *



—

SMALLS WAS. Lucas called him on the burner, woke him up in a West Coast hotel. Lucas told him what had happened, including Taryn Grant’s Black Orchid scent trail, and Smalls said, “I almost hate to tell you this, Lucas, but Grant wasn’t there. She was in the same ballroom I was in—I actually had a spat with her.”

“She was there the whole time?”

“Well, the party started at eight. We avoided each other, but I saw her several times. Toward the end—sometime before midnight, I guess—I actually spoke to her. Called her a cunt.”

“Nice,” Lucas said. “I expect we’ll be hearing about that, if I ever get her on a witness stand.”

“Hadn’t thought about that,” Smalls said. “But, anyway, you’re not going to get her on a witness stand. I’ll tell you, though, I’m a happy man. You got the killers. They’re all dead.”

“One disappeared, might still be on the loose. Either that or he’s dead, too.”

“If he’s alive, would he be a threat?”

“No. If he was one of the killers, which we couldn’t prove, he was being paid by Claxson or Parrish. I’m sure he wouldn’t have been directly involved with Grant. I think Grant’s happy to be out of it. She wouldn’t send him after you again.”

“Then let’s call it a day. This has been quite satisfactory, Lucas. Go home, kiss your wife and children, spend some time at the lake.”

“No, wait, wait, Senator. Think for a minute. When did you see Grant last night?”

Smalls thought, and said, “Well, I definitely saw her right at the beginning. She looked good, I admit. Green dress . . . I saw her a couple of more times right after that. And I saw her at the end . . . You know, I can’t remember seeing her halfway through the reception, and she was highly visible. Let me ask around. Huh . . .”

His voice trailed off, and Lucas said, “Yes, ask around.”



* * *



—

LUCAS CALLED Jane Chase in her hospital bed and she picked up instantly.

“I didn’t think you’d be answering,” Lucas said. “You should be all doped up.”

“Nope. It’s a workday. I’m sitting here at Reston Hospital with a major pain in the ass, if you’ll excuse the vulgar language.”

“I can handle it,” Lucas said.

“I’m sure you can. Anyway, I’m working. I’ll probably be here for another two days, they tell me. You heard about Mrs. Woods?”

“The old lady? Yeah. I knew she was dead. Knew before we left last night.”

“Andy told me.”

“I’ve got something to tell you that nobody believes but me,” Lucas said, “not even Bob and Rae. And Senator Smalls told me to forget it and go home.”

He told her about smelling the Black Orchid. She asked a couple of questions, then said, “Well, if it hit you like that, I think you’re probably right. I have a small stock of perfumes, mostly lighter, like Chanel No. 5, because of the office environment. Some people are allergic to scents. Anyway, I tried Black Orchid when it first came out, and it was too strong and lingering, maybe too masculine. It stays in the air.”

“But it would be useless in a prosecution.”

“Unless there was a lot of other evidence.”

“All right,” Lucas said. He rubbed the side of his face. “I’ve gotta go shave. Listen, Jane, I hope your ass stops hurting and you get back on your feet. You’re a good cop. You’ll do well.”