First Time Killer by Alan Orloff, Zak Allen Read Free Book Online

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    Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A lanky figure loomed in the doorway. It took Rick a moment to place him. One of the detectives investigating the First Time Killer. Mostly arms and legs, he reminded Rick of a black six-foot-four praying mantis. Except for his gleaming bald head. The detective wore a navy blazer over a white shirt. Khaki slacks. Nondescript, if a little rumpled.
    “Come on in.” Rick stood, extending his hand.
    The detective entered, grasped the proffered hand, gave it a perfunctory shake. “How you doing? Ms. Perez sent me up. Said you wouldn’t mind.”
    Rick hated it when Celia spoke for him. That’s probably why she did it so often. “Sure. What can I do for you?” He pointed to a side chair. “Have a seat?” Rick lowered himself back into his leather chair.
    The detective flipped around the small chair, sat on it backwards. Pulled out a pad and a cheap plastic Bic. “So you guys got another call, Mr. Jennings?”
    “Please, call me Rick.”
    “Sure thing.” The detective stared at him, neutral expression.
    “I’m sorry, I’m not very good with names.” Rick had remembered the detective’s face, but forgotten his name. He always relied on Barb’s great memory for names to rescue him from similar social lapses.
    “Oh, right.” The detective fished a business card out of his shirt pocket and slid it across the desk to Rick. “Detective Tarver Adams.”
    Rick picked up the card, flicked the corner of it with a fingernail. “May I call you Tarver?”
    “Well, if we were having a beer or watching the Skins, I’d say sure, call me Tarver. Or Tarve, that’s what my friends call me. But I’m investigating a homicide, so I think it might be better if you called me Detective Adams.” He paused, clenched his jaw. “No disrespect intended, Ringmaster .” His eyes crinkled, but no smile appeared on his lips.
    Evidently, Adams wasn’t a big fan of the Circus . “What can I do for you, Detective?”
    “Trying to find me a killer. We listened to the tapes of the second call. Think it’s probably the same guy. Same tonal qualities. We’ve sent both tapes off for analysis to get a more thorough work-up,” Adams said. “The electronics he’s using to disguise his voice make things difficult.”
    “Did you trace the call?”
    “No such luck. We’re still working on it, but I’m not optimistic. You’ve seen the technician in master control? He’ll be around from now on. Trying to get a bead on things.” Adams cleared his throat. He tapped his pen against the side of the chair and glanced around the office. “You like working here?”
    Rick’s eyebrows rose. “Do I like working here? What does that have to do with anything?”
    “Nothing. Just making small talk.” More crinkling, no smile. “So, do you?”
    “Sure, I guess. We’re a popular show. What’s not to like?”
    “I heard your show was more popular before the Rhino overdosed. Things are sliding now. That true?” More tapping with the pen.
    “The ratings have dipped, yes. We’ll turn it around.” If only he really believed it. Professionally and personally, Rick wanted that to happen, needed for it to happen. People were counting on him. “I don’t suppose you’ve identified the victim yet?”
    “As a matter of fact, we did. Just this morning. That’s why I’m here. Got a missing persons call and matched x-rays. The victim broke his arm as a kid. Sometimes you just get lucky.” Adams stopped and fixed his eyes on Rick. “I believe the killer was right. I think you knew him. Ted Danzler.”
    Rick’s stomach dropped two floors. “Oh shit. He was an intern for the Rhino.” He looked away from Adams. Young. Friendly, too. Double shit.
    “That’s what I understand. Did you know him well?” Adams got up and spun the chair around. Sat on it correctly.
    “No, not really. I’d seen him around. I was working a different shift. Middays. He was with the Circus during