The Podcast

Chapter 36

Wednesday Late Afternoon

Lucas feels the exhaustion between his temples, the tension of the past few hours stiffening between his shoulder blades. He wants a cigarette. Instead, he's split half a dozen nicotine toothpicks between his molars in between calls to the lab and interruptions from scene investigators that were proving less helpful as the hours dragged on. A double homicide typically meant a long day regardless, but tacking on the fact that both victims are extremely famous adds another layer of scrutiny and chaos has Lucas vowing to leave Los Angeles once and for all. Chief Jack Honey has descended on Lucas' desk more this afternoon than he typically does in an entire year, demanding unrealistic updates and making redundant suggestions. His true motive is solely to gather the necessary information for his next hourly update to the press.

They prowled outside, growing thicker like a mass. A clamoring sea of cameras and microphones and overly powdered faces, stalking the podium outside the LAPD downtown office like a pack of rabid wolves. Lucas refused to be interviewed, preferring the dank, too-small conference room he and Melanie assembled as an interim war room with two junior detectives they pulled in to help.

"It's so weird, man, I mean my wife loved that show, Two Rivers. You think they'll film the rest of it without her? Would be kinda weird to be honest."

"I mean I'm still shell shocked over Natasha Wood. That girl is a piece of art, you ever see the tits on her when she was doing amateur–"

"Shut the fuck up." Lucas turns his head, snapping at the junior detectives. "I brought you two on to help, not to fucking gossip."

"Sorry, boss."

"Don't call me that." Lucas snaps another toothpick, spitting the splintered end out of his mouth and straight into the small trash can by the door. "Keep digging in those files."

"But...why?" One of the junior detectives looks up at Lucas, his face a bit sunburnt and oil, sandy-blonde hair cut too close to his head.

"Because I said so."

"I know, boss—Detective Saba—I get that, I'm just saying...what does a murder of some random college girl from 2014 have to do with Violet Russell and Natasha Wood?"

Melanie swipes at the back of his head with another folder as she enters back into the conference room, dropping its contents on the table. "Doesn't matter. Just tell us if you find something."

Lucas and Melanie had pulled every file they could on Chloe's murder, the recent UCLA murders, and the latest Joshua Tree case. Because finally, and much to the relief of Lucas' gut, the lab had returned something other than more strands of Bo West's hair.

They'd found boot prints. Two matching sets. One at Violet Russell's house, the other at Natasha Wood's.

A men's size ten work boot.

Beaufort "Bo" West's file had his shoe size logged as a size twelve.

Sumner's velvety voice looped occasionally in Lucas head:

Sounds like you've got yourself a needle in a haystack.

Better than no needle.

Lucas didn't bother to tell the junior detectives why the seemingly random three case files were their new life's work and why it was so damn important to figure out if any other boot prints had been found and identified as belonging to someone in any of those cases even if that person had been ruled out as a person of interest.

Because the wet look the two junior detectives have about them makes Lucas suspicious enough that they'd run to the media for a payday if they realized just how big this case might really be. Not simply a high profile slaying of two of Hollywood's most beloved female up-and-comers, but a serial killer.