CHAPTER 3

As he stepped off of the elevator at his office in the penthouse suite of the Houston Industries Building, Matt tried to shake the anger that he felt over the Willoughby deal. He walked into CJ's office to find it empty, but the smell of meatloaf wafted through the air, so he stepped into the main part of the office to find lunch on the poker table. CJ came up the stairs from the nursery just then. "I see you made it back in one piece." She walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck giving him a kiss and then pulled back and looked at him. "What's the matter?" Matt headed for the refrigerator behind the bar and pulled out a couple of Fizzy Pops to go with their lunch and told her what had happened.

"Oh boy, it's going to be one of those deals, huh?" She saw the worry on his face and as he scooted her chair up to the table for her, took him by the hand and pulled him back down to her, giving him another kiss. "We'll catch him, hon."

"I'm sure we will – but it bothers me that someone else's daughter may have to die so that we can." He sat in the chair across from her, topping his mashed potatoes with more black pepper and then diving into the meat loaf.

CJ watched as he tore into the meal. "Are you really that hungry or are you taking out your frustrations on the food?" She put her chin in her hand and smiled at him.

"Both." He gave her a smile, but the worry soon resumed its place on his face. "It just irks me, CJ…" He swallowed a gulp of his drink.

"I know it does, hon, but you've got to have some faith." She went back to her lunch.

"Is Catey feeling okay? She's usually up and jabbering when we have lunch."

"I think she's trying to find another tooth. She's been a little cranky this morning and she's gnawing on everything in sight – and drooling. I gave her some of the drops and she went right to sleep after her bottle."

"Well if you two need to leave go ahead. We can close things down here if we need to." They talked on for a little bit about the upcoming wedding and the trip to Texas as they finished their meal. Afterward, they cleared the table and then went to sit in front of BABY.

"Okay, here's what I've got on your suspect so far." She hit a couple of keys and up popped a picture of a young man with black hair, a load of eyeliner, and a smirk. "Brock Charles Willoughby: the son of Robert and Adele Willoughby of the investment firm Willoughbys. He's twenty years old, graduated from Beasley Academy two years ago and went to UCLA up until this past January. He got thrown out for underage drinking and contributing to the delinquency of a minor…seems his date at the party was fifteen. The girl's parents were trying to get him for statutory rape…"

"But the DA put a stop to it I'm betting." He finished for his wife.

"Not exactly; they supposedly changed their minds. Of course there was a large deposit made into the couple's bank account right before they decided not to press charges."

"Regardless of whether or not they pressed charges, the DA should have." He felt his frustration level rising again.

"Yes – he should have." She punched a few more keys. "Brock seems to like the club scene around town and being underage doesn't seem to slow him down." A few pictures of the young man popped up on the screen including photos of him drinking.

"And I bet that ain't fruit punch he's sipping either."

"Probably not. He's been rumored to be the leader of a group – some might call it a cult – of supposed vampires." CJ looked over at her husband.

"This guy is sounding more likely by the minute. What do we know about the group?" He leaned back and put his arm around her.

"They seem to be made up of young people, mostly in their teens or early twenties, some of them rich and some not so rich. There have been two suicides associated with the group. But the families of the two members in question don't believe they were suicides at all – they think it was murder."

"Alright, do we have their names?"

"We do." She handed him a printout with the names and addresses of the parents of the two suicide victims.

"Thanks, Babe." He gave her a kiss and stroked her cheek with his thumb before giving her another, more lengthy kiss that was interrupted by Catey crying. "Sounds like the native is restless. I'll get her." He stood up and stepped over the back of the couch and headed for the nursery where he changed the baby and then brought her upstairs. Although she was no longer crying, she appeared to not be feeling very well. "Why don't you girls head on home and let Miss Catey Rose here take the rest of the day off." He kissed his daughter on the forehead and she snuggled into his chest. "I'm going to go see if I can talk to these folks and find out a little more about Willoughby. And see if this will cheer Hoyt up any at all."

He rode down in the elevator with his two ladies after turning the phones over to the answering service. After telling CJ and Catey goodbye, he headed back over to Hoyt's office to see what he could find out about the two suicides and bring him up to date. The cop was up to his ears in paperwork when the private eye walked in his door.

"What are you doing here?" Michael hadn't figured to see Matt again that day.

"CJ might have struck gold." He grinned and then filled Michael in on the details.

"I didn't see anything about that earlier." The lieutenant punched in the names of the two suicide victims. "Uh huh – it seems there was a good bit of fighting among the folks in the ME's office over these two…I think it's worth looking into." He gave Matt a smile.

"Well what are you waiting for? Come on." Houston headed out to the elevator and punched the button.

The pair arrived at the house of Margo Sharpton, the mother of Donnie Sharpton. Donnie had been the first name to pop up in connection with Brock Willoughby and his friends. Michael introduced himself and Matt to the fifty-something woman who opened the door. After hearing why they were there she welcomed them into the kitchen and poured coffee.

"Mrs. Sharpton, we were wondering what you could tell us about what happened." Matt took a sip of the coffee.

After she looked at the two of them somewhat surprised, Matt explained that neither of them had worked the case before. "Oh, well…I guess that makes sense." She sat down and stirred creamer into her coffee. "Donnie was a good boy. He was just really shy and had always had trouble making friends. When he met them online and then started hanging out with that group I was happy – at first. When I got a good look at them and saw how Donnie was changing I got worried. I tried talking to him about it but he wouldn't hear any of it." She got visibly upset. "He was finally going out and having a good time, but I couldn't help but worry. They all looked like vampires or something."

"How long was he hanging out with them before…he died, ma'am?" The private eye was taking notes.

"I guess it was about a month or so. He changed – almost daily it seemed. Right before my eyes, you know? At first it was a change for the better, or so I thought. But after the first week, he just seemed so tired. They were staying out until all hours…I have no idea what they were doing."

"Mrs. Sharpton, did your son do drugs?" Michael took a sip of the coffee.

The woman started to tear up. "Not until he started hanging out with that Willoughby character. I found some pills in his pockets when I was getting ready to do the wash. Bright little things – they almost looked like candy. There were all kinds of little pictures on them."

"Ecstasy." Matt and Hoyt exchanged a look and nod.

"That's what the police said killed him. But one of the assistants at the Medical Examiner's office said that his blood was just…gone." She started crying.

"Did he have puncture marks on his neck?" Houston hated to see the woman so distressed but they needed to learn as much as they could about what had happened.

"When I identified him I asked about that. The first man I talked to there, an assistant, said that's what they were. Later on another man said it was from being bitten by a bug of some sort – but I didn't believe that for a minute."

"And he was found at Peck Road Park."

She nodded, wiping tears away. "He was right beside the lake there, just off of a trail." The tears continued to flow.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to upset you like this." Matt reached across and patted on her hand. "Did he have a computer of his own?"

"He did. I got rid of it after…"

"Alright. We're going to do our best to get this guy, I promise you."

The woman nodded again. "I hope so. It just isn't right that my Donnie is lying dead and buried in the cemetery and that guy is out walking around and partying."

They left a few minutes later and went to meet with the parents of Jenny Marcus who had been found about a month after Donnie Sharpton. Bruce Marcus was at home but his wife Doreen was working. He invited the two men in. As they asked him the same questions his response was much the same as Margo Sharpton – except he was mad and not crying. "That was my little girl, gentlemen. I don't know if you understand how it is between a father and his daughter…"

"Yes sir, both of us have a daughter of our own." Matt spoke up.

"Then you do know. She was my whole world - my wife's, too." Marcus picked up a picture of his daughter in a frame that sat on the end table next to his chair in the living room where the three were talking. "She was always doing things to help other people. But after she met those…freaks, she just stopped caring. All she could think about was going out with them. I know she was drinking, and my wife found some pills in her room a few days before she died. I don't know what they were. Doreen flushed them as soon as she found them. She called me home from work early so that we could talk to Jenny but by the time I got here she had snuck out and left the house. That was the last time she was home."

"Did you ever meet the people she was hanging out with?" Matt was leaning forward on the couch.

"No, I usually work nights. Doreen was here. She said the boy that picked Jenny up seemed nice enough, but he looked…weird. He had real dark black hair and wore makeup – you know, around his eyes? I saw a picture of him on Jenny's computer one time. Looked like a damn raccoon."

"And that's how she met him – online?"

"Yeah. Damn computers."

"Is her computer still here, Mr. Marcus?"

"Yeah, I … we haven't touched anything in her room. It's been a while now, but I just can't bring myself to do it."

"Would you mind if we took a look around?" Michael had a feeling that he knew what they would find – if anything.

"Sure, if it will catch the lousy little bastard." He led the way upstairs and pointed out the room to the two men who were donning gloves. "Doreen still goes in there and cleans up – dusts or whatever…I don't go in there. I can't." He started to tear up. "Do whatever you need to do and take whatever you need to take." He suddenly turned and headed down the stairs.

Matt and Michael headed into the room and began looking around, Hoyt through the dresser and Matt through the desk. After a couple of minutes, the PI called his friend over. "Got an evidence bag?"

"Yeah." Hoyt held it out to the man and he dropped in what appeared once again to be ecstasy. "Looks like maybe that's how he got them hooked, huh?"

"That's the way it seems." He went through the rest of the desk but didn't find anything else except for the desktop computer. After turning it on, he began going through the files, but didn't find anything useful at all. "There's no internet access. Guess we could take it with us. Maybe try to look through her internet files." Matt sat and thought for a minute as Hoyt moved on to look through the closet. "You know, it occurs to me: none of these folks had much on their computers in the way of emails…and most folks usually don't make a habit of emptying out their mailboxes – at least on a daily basis."

"No, they don't." Michael closed the closet door and turned to look at Matt.

"I wonder if he got access to their accounts…and after they were dead went in and cleaned out anything that had to do with him or the group?"

"That makes sense." He helped Matt unplug the tower and they went back downstairs. Hoyt made out a receipt and gave it to Bruce Marcus.

"Did you find anything?" The man had calmed down a little bit.

"Yes sir – what we believe is ecstasy." Matt felt bad having to tell him that. "We've found it in every victim's belongings so far – except for the first girl from two nights ago…we aren't sure who she is yet."

"I want you to get this bastard, Mr. Houston – Lieutenant. If there's anything I can do let me know, would you?"

"We will. Thanks for your cooperation." Hoyt held out his hand and they shook before he and Matt headed out down the sidewalk to put the computer in the car.