Cover Up: Models and mayhem–The Depot series

by VoyagerG

Mac returns as Dani's Outrider to solve a tragic case where models died from a gruesome ailment. He and Crystal must go undercover at an agency to find the culprit before it causes a citywide panic and possibly makes Dani and her models their next target.

9. Twisted motives

Chapter 9: Twisted motives

Mac strolled and talked calmly with Paulo as they headed toward the black van. Paulo now knew better than to make any sudden moves or try to run away again. He had officially dubbed Mac 'El Bruto.' When they came to the van Mac swung open the door and shoved him inside. Mac jumped in after him and slammed the door shut.

"Okay, señor! Now we're really gonna talk. En español ó inglès?"

"I'll speak ingles for you, Bruto. Your Spanish is too proper. Look, you don't get it; I'm not the killer! No way! Ana was my girlfriend; I loved her, why would I do that to her or her amigas? I found out from her family at the wake that she died of some kind of poison! I don't know how to get poison, not one that does damage like that, man! We…we couldn't even have an open casket." Paulo sank onto the red beanbag in the corner and wept. Mac's stomach knotted. He truly felt bad for the kid.

"Relax Paulo, here, have a drink. Cool off." Mac tossed him a can of coke from a cooler. Paulo hesitated.

"It's not spiked. Look, I'm not going to hurt you, Paulo. You just have to trust me."

"Trust you? I don't even know you!"

Mac ran a hand through his hair and glanced at him sternly. "Trust that I am on top of this case and the killer will be caught."

"Then what are you hanging around for? Go catch the killer! It her! It's Lindsey!" Paulo snapped open the can and chugged it.

"How do you know that, kid? If My partner and I didn't show up you could have murdered an innocent woman."

"I know because she's a jealous bruja that's why! Ana told me. She never felt comfortable in that apartment with her. She knew, man, she knew something was up with her. I was going to move Ana out of there to be with me, we were already planning it when she died. Lindsey's crazy, man! She ain't right in the head!"

Mac glared at him. At this point, he didn't know what to think. Lindsey probably should have gone into another career…acting. "Maybe she is nuts, but I just stopped you from going to the slammer for a revenge killing."

Mac twirled in his chair and pulled out surveillance photos he had of Claude and Lindsey and the others. He couldn't have solid proof without a medical test, but he felt it in his gut that Lindsey was Claude's daughter. They had similar expressions, arched brows, dark features and a genetic giveaway, the same earlobes. It was something he picked up on after talking with Lindsey in the diner, but he didn't share it with anyone else.

Mac had also done a little personal investigating into Lindsey's background; all the Lindsey Brewsters listed in Connecticut were not the model. When tapping Stella's phone line, he found a folder with old photos shoved in the back of her desk. Mac, ever nosy, wanted to go through it to see if there were young modeling pictures of Dani. He remembered seeing one of Claude and a gorgeous pale-blonde woman with long, curly hair. Stella stood off to the side, with a forced and disgruntled smile as Claude posed with his arms wrapped around blonde. The image was very cozy. The back of the photo read 'Claude Dupont with his favorite gal-pals, Janet Brewster and Stella Nicholls, NYC, 1967.'

The clues started coming together for him after taking Dani home from Claude's apartment. There was the photo of the blonde woman with the name of Brewster. In regards to the murders, only Jezebel models were targeted, where this same Janet once worked. Lindsey hated Claude and made no big effort to hide it when she first spoke to Mac at the studio. The models who died were part of the same clique as Lindsey. Crystal's instincts had been right all along. Lindsey couldn't be trusted.

The police were currently cracking down hard on the agency and there was a rumor that Jezebel was going to be shuttered for a long while. Pinning the murders on Claude would be the perfect way for Lindsey to get back at him. It was her sick and twisted way of showing him what his utter lack of parental affection had done to both their lives. Lindsey Brewster was really the only suspect who could be adequately tied to all the murdered girls. Mac put the photos away and swung around in the rolling chair.

"Paulo, as volatile as you are, I know you're not the killer. I saw the autopsy photos and spoke to the Medical examiner. The girls did not have marks of abuse on them, only skin and organ damage from the toxins used to kill them. It's as if they died by their own hand. Man, I know I've seen this type of poison case before! I just can't place it." Mac slammed the table frustrated. It would no doubt come to him long after the case ended.

"How will you prove that it wasn't me? These cops are looking to pin the murders on the first dupe they get, who better than a Latino guy that already has a rap sheet and was dating a victim!"

"Well whose fault is that if they suspect you? You've tainted your rep."

"Easy for you to say, Bruto!"

"Can the 'Bruto' stuff, I'm not a brute, or else you'd be beaten to a pulp instead of drinking cokes. My name is Mac."

"Big Mac, huh? Listen up, Mac, you're a handsome white guy, they'd never suspect any of your race if they can find a minority. You know that!"

"Don't pull the race card with me, pal. Do the crime, pay the time, and suffer the stigma. They'd hardly suspect females either…but now I think I do."

"If you're thinkin' it's Lindsey, you better be sure, because I am."

"I am sure…well…at least ninety percent. You attempted to strangle Lindsey forcibly. So, poisoning with skin creams is definitely not your style. There would have been DNA evidence or other incriminating markings on the bodies and possibly signs of struggle. The models were unwitting victims because they used Claude's tainted goop and it must have done the damage over night while they slept."

Mac jumped up and pushed open the door. He put a strong grip on Paulo's shoulder and shoved him forward. "Get outta here and take better care of yourself, Paulo. Keep a cool head. I know you're hurting. I know how it feels to lose someone you care about."

Paulo eyed him warily. "Do you? How?"

Mac sighed. "My girlfriend was murdered last year. Believe me, it still hurts. I went gung-ho for revenge too, but it got me busted. You can't take the law into your own hands. If I find you involved in this again, you're going straight to jail. Trust me, I can pull any strings I want to." Mac warned.

Paulo jumped from the van, his temper calmed. "Sorry man. Listen, I know you're not a cop, and you don't wanna turn me in because then you'll have to blow whatever cover operation you got goin' on here. But whoever you are, give my girl some justice! Give all of them justice!"

The young man sprinted out of sight. Mac slid behind the wheel. He was about to turn the key when a sense of dread swept over him. He ran from the car and back in the direction of Lindsey's apartment. In all the commotion, he had nearly forgotten that he left Crystal behind with her.

-Oo-

"Look, Dani, Mr. Towler, I've already told you all I know about this horrible case. I want my lawyer and I want him now!"

Henry sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was in his office and had Dani meet him and Claude there after Dani voiced her misgivings about bringing Claude to the studio.

"Mr. Dupont, you are not under arrest, so you don't need a lawyer. We just needed to confirm a few things about the model murders to aid the investigators. Would you like us to get the police involved?" Henry motioned for the phone. "All I have to do is say the word."

"No! Not them again. Why does this all matter to you, Dani?"

Dani stared at him steely eyed. "Because this mayhem revolves around my career and I need to protect my models from the maniacs at Jezebel! Last night you tried to tell me that Stella was out to get you, why did you say that?"

Claude nervously dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a long blue envelope. "A few days ago I found this slipped under my door. It's typed so I don't know who wrote it. Only Stella could sound so desperate."

Dani looked it over confused and passed it to Henry. "This is ominous! Why didn't you just take it to the police and get it dusted for fingerprints?"

"Like I said, I'm tired of dealing with them. I'm a very important personage in the modeling world, Dani. You know that. I've gotten all sorts of oddball threats in my lifetime. Do you think I have time to worry over all of them? Obviously I'm still alive to tell them. I had a friend check it for me, and it's clean. Whoever wrote it used gloves."

Henry read over the letter grimly. "Didn't you stop and think that this could be related to the murders? Listen to this carefully. 'All I ever wanted was for you to acknowledge me, to tell me you loved me and mean it. I've endured hardships for years without you, but I've come to realize that it was all your fault. Now you are going to pay. Death for you is so trite. I want you to suffer for a long time.' Claude, this is no joke or vague threat! This is evidence in an ongoing investigation. I could have you charged for obstructing justice."

"You certainly should!" Dani spoke up, circling Claude. "After how he treated me last night and not to mention how he treats everyone who crosses his path. He's a demon."

Claude grasped at his hair. "Dani! Last night was a mistake, I was getting drunk, and I was needy and you are still one of the most beautiful women I could never get again. So I'm a gigolo, so what? I'm not your killer if that's what you're both implying! I know Stella must have written that. She's always wanted me."

Dani crossed her arms angrily. "Stop flattering yourself. It's tiresome."

"Mr. Dupont, you better hope that we can't prove otherwise." Henry noted, rising from his chair. "You're free to go, but if I were you, I'd take this note very seriously and watch your back."

Claude jumped from the seat and hurried to the door. "Keep it, find this person and throw away the key, fry them, do whatever needs to be done. I don't deserve this kind of harassment!"

Dani held back a scathing retort and marched to the window, keeping her focus on the traffic. The world revolved around Claude Dupont. Never mind the murdered girls and their grieving families, or his models at the studio who were living in fear and wondering if they would be targeted next. It was no use to argue the point.

Henry glared at him. "Will I be hearing from your lawyer? Because I can have people do certain investigations into all your Jezebel and personal accounts…in fact, I've already done it, we're about halfway there, have you been involved in illegal stock trading perhaps?"

Claude froze and plucked at his purple tie. He straightened up and faced them. A twitchy grin flitted across his lips.

"Who said anything about me calling my lawyer, Mr. Towler? I just demand justice for these poor, innocent models. They would have been big stars! I would have made them supermodels if given the chance. Dani, would you…"

Dani put her hand up, but refused to look at him. "Have a nice life, Claude."

Claude nodded fretfully and left the building as fast as he could. Dani grinned at Henry. "Where did you come up with that one? We're not investigating his finances."

Henry chuckled. "I know, I just threw it out there, and it looks like my guess was right. The police investigations will figure that out eventually."

Dani took a seat and poured a small drink. "And Jezebel will finally go to the dogs. Have you heard from Mac or Crystal?"

"No, I tried to call the van phone, but there's no answer. I'm sure they're getting the job done. No need to start panicking."

Dani gazed out of Henry's window again at the setting sun. "Not yet anyway."

-Oo-

Lindsey and Fred worked quickly, dragging Crystal into the back of Fred's pick-up truck. They drove a few blocks up to the abandoned red-bricked building with the centuries old cemetery. When they entered the dusty building, Fred carried Crystal to a small room in the back where in the center laid a simple pine box, a coffin. He shoved her inside. Lindsey paced the larger room giddy.

"Hurry up, you imbecile! Somebody is going to come. I need to get back to my apartment before Mac comes there. He's gonna figure out something's wrong." She demanded.

"She's in, she's in! I worked hard digging that grave last night, Lindsey."

"Oh yes…that one, well, there's been a little change of plans, I kinda used it already." Lindsey coyly twisted her foot and smiled at him tartly.

Fred gaped at her then ran to the cemetery. He noticed the grass strewn and the soil compacted loosely in front of a crumbling headstone from the early nineteenth century. He ran back inside to Lindsey.

"Wait a minute here. If this grave isn't for this chick, then who's in there?"

Lindsey tossed her head back with a laugh then cupped her mouth and shouted "HEY STELLA!" She burst into a deranged fit of giggles. Fred's entire form shook and he cursed her. He ran with his hands out, ready to tear at her throat. Lindsey rushed backwards and pulled out Crystal's gun. Fred stopped short.

"Don't you touch me! Stella found the formula because you left it inside your janitor closet. Now go get the gasoline and light this place up fast! Either way, you're gonna go down for everything. You were the one who mixed up the damn stuff! I can pin it all on you. Nobody is gonna think I did anything wrong. I'm practically a victim, I could have been one." She wagged the gun as he ignored her warnings and inched closer.

"Stay back! I'll tell them everything! How you stalked poor Stella and obsessed over her so much that you had to have her or else." She threatened.

"That's a rotten lie!"

"Is it? Stella barely noticed you. And why should she? You're a dirty janitor. She wanted the all-powerful Claude! She always did, but he was too busy fooling around with my mother and ignoring me to notice!" Lindsey seethed. "Now go light those papers and rags in the corner!"

Fred hung back, watching how Lindsey's attractive face suddenly turned beastly, her pale skin flushed to a deep, fiery red. She was liable to kill him no matter what happened. He was afraid of her; he was ever since he saw what she had done to the first model. Lindsey had blackmailed him. She made a big show that she was interested in plants and botany and begged him to get her a special chemical for use in an experiment. Fred walked backwards toward the pile. He picked up the red jug of gasoline and poured.

-Oo-

Mac raced up to Lindsey's apartment and hurried inside. The lock had been busted when he kicked the door in earlier.

"Crystal? Lindsey? Where are you?" He peered around. The women were gone, however he noticed the curtains flapping. The window was still wide open. He went to close it when he found something stuck on the metal rungs. It was a piece of dark blue fabric. Mac picked it up and stared closely at it.

"This is from Crystal's blazer." He said aloud.

Mac went back inside and when he found Lindsey's phone he made a quick call to Henry to tell him he was onto a very important lead. The answering machine picked up and as he left a hasty message, his gaze averted towards the deserted back alleys. He suddenly noticed plumes of smoke rising from the old building adjacent to the cemetery. Mac leaped onto the fire escape and ran down fast. Something was very wrong and he had to get over there.

-Oo-

Crystal's head throbbed and she lolled it side to side to try and shake off her dizziness. The air was stifling. She opened her eyes carefully, and realized she was still in darkness. The bottom of her boot scraped against wood. Her fingers brushed over soft mounds of silky material. Her shoulders were constricted and her prison forced her to keep her arms crossing over her middle.

'Oh my God! I'm in a coffin! I'm in a coffin and I'm still alive!' She thought frantic. There was a faint smell of smoke around her.

"Oh no! NO!" She screamed, afraid she was about to be cremated. However, she didn't feel the box moving underneath, or the sweltering furnace heat. She raised her fists and banged on the lid. It wouldn't open from the inside.

"Get me out! Help me! Help!" She screamed. Panic swept over her and bile rose in her throat as her stomach clenched. The after-effects of the drug were still wearing down.

"Let me out of here!" She screamed again and again, until she gasped for air. Crystal banged and scraped at the edges of the of the coffin lid. The smoke odor grew stronger. She found a moment to calm down and tried to put her ear to the side of the coffin. She could hear the murmurs of harsh voices fading out and then with a deep horror she realized the crackling noises fast approaching was fire.

-Oo-

"Why…why didn't you just kill that woman inside? Shoot her!"

"It's too complicated! She's not a modeling assistant; she's a CIA agent! Her and Harper!"

Fred tossed up his hands. "So putting her in a coffin and burning down a building is easier? You are seriously whacked out!"

Lindsey stumbled onto the grass in the cemetery, still holding the gun on Fred.

"That's funny, I don't feel so crazy, so shut up, Fred! I'm not sorry to have to do this, but any minute the police and fire department will be coming along. Thanks for all your help!"

Lindsey turned suddenly and her face smacked hard against a loose wood board. She dropped the gun and sank to her knees. She cried out and fell face down, grasping at her nose and mouth.

"That's for my Ana you monster!" Paulo stood heaving and raised the board again.

Fred looked in every direction, and then made a dash for the gun. He aimed it at Lindsey. "And this one's for my Stella!" He cried.

Before he could pull the trigger, Mac took a flying leap off a three-foot headstone and bowled into him. They rolled onto the dirt and he grappled for the gun. Mac shoved a palm full of mud into Fred's face and drew him up by his collar, shaking him furiously.

"What have you done with Crystal? Where is she?" He shouted.

He refused to speak, but Mac got his answer as Fred's gaze motioned toward the building. The flames rose higher and burst out the windows on the first floor. Mac socked Fred and scampered toward the building. The back doorway was hot, but he kicked it open and then had to leap out of the way of shooting flames. There was no way to get in from this side. He raced around to where smoke forced itself out through the cracks in the boarded up windows, but the fire had not yet consumed it.

Mac grasped the wood and tore at the beams until they all fell off. He picked one up and smashed it through the glass, clearing a pathway to jump inside. He tumbled in, narrowly missing the shards that sprinkled the dusty cement floor. Smoke rapidly seeped in and the fire licked at the entryway. He gasped when he saw the dark pine box in the center of the room. Hearing Crystal's muffled screams, Mac yanked the lid open, breaking it from its hinges. Crystal sat up quivering with shock, her voice nearly gone from screaming and she still pounded at the air. Tears streamed down her face.

Mac enveloped her in a hug and kissed the top of her head as she coughed and cried against his shirt.

"I found you, sweetheart. I found you." He murmured. He scooped her into his arms and dragged her toward the window.

"Catch your breath!" He ordered her.

The fire trucks and police were just pulling up. Mac helped her out the window as carefully and quickly as possible to avoid her getting cut. He felt tiny shards prickle his legs and palms, but he ignored it. Crystal dove onto the grass, heaving deep breaths. He jumped out after her. When he looked back he saw the flames finally reach the interior of the room and catch onto the coffin. Mac had made it just in time. He picked up Crystal and carried her toward the sidewalk. The firemen ran in his direction with the hose.

"Anyone else inside? Are you two okay?" He shouted, readying the hose to shoot out water.

"We're okay, and…I…I don't think so! It's abandoned."

A rugged faced, older fireman with bushy dark brows came to assist. "It's a wonder this hovel didn't burn down years ago! I've been waiting for this day! Stand back! Turn it on, guys!"

Sprays from the water blast hit Mac and it cooled his overheated skin. Keeping Crystal in his arms, he left the scene. He saw police running to the cemetery. A young, short, rookie cop pounced on one knee with his gun pointed at Paulo and Fred.

"Freeze! Both of you stay right where you are!"

Fred was clawing and sobbing at the grave where Stella was likely buried and Paulo had the gun pointed on Lindsey.

"Take her in! She killed my girlfriend! She killed all those models! I swear!" He shouted.

"Just calm yourself, pal, and lower the weapon." The cop retorted.

Crystal nudged Mac to lower her down. She could barely talk and seemed almost in a state of shock. An ambulance pulled up to the curb. Mac clasped her hand and led her to them so they could administer first aid.

"Mac, you're…you're bleeding!" She finally spoke, her voice raspy.

"Mac picked at the tiny glass in his hands and arms and flicked it away. He winced from the stings. "I'll live, Crys."

They stared wearily at one another and Crystal fell against him. "Thank you, thank you so much." She sniffled.

"I'd do anything for you, you're my partner." Mac said resolute. Crystal raised her eyes toward his face. She was about to kiss him when a siren blared. They pulled apart and Henry raced out with more cops.

"I had to explain that this was all a federal investigation, Mac. They would have accused you and Crystal of starting this blaze. They will be taking Lindsey and anyone else involved into custody."

"I'm glad you made it. I gotta stop these cops before they shoot Paulo. I'll be right back, hon." Mac hated to leave Crystal, but she was already sitting on the edge of the ambulance, sucking up fresh air. She waved at him to go do what was needed.

Henry and the Police Captain went into the cemetery. Mac rushed behind some tall grave markers, hoping to get behind Paulo, while the other cops were ordered to hold their fire. He approached very cautiously. Lindsey had her hands draped over the back of her head execution style, in too much pain to make any more sudden moves. Paulo slowly turned his head when he heard a few leaves crunching behind him.

"This woman must die." He said coldly. "Just like her victims."

"Paulo, it's over. Justice has been served."

"NO, it hasn't. They're going to let her off easy. She's too pretty. She's a white girl; she'll cop an insanity plea. That's always the way."

Mac moved in closer and spoke gently to him. "She can't. The murders of the women were masterminded over a period of months. She was very much in her right mind when she manipulated Fred to get the toxins she needed and put them into the night creams."

"This bastardo must die too." Paulo replied and aimed the gun at Fred.

"Paulo…do…do you believe in God?" Mac suddenly asked in Spanish.

"Si…" Paulo droned softly and raised his eyes to the sky. "Very much."

"Wasn't it God who said, 'Vengeance is mine and I will repay?" Mac asked, hoping he wasn't misquoting the scripture too much.

Paulo sucked in a deep breath and nodded, but his gun didn't waver away from the two on the ground. He went on his knees right above Lindsey. Mac crouched down and maneuvered his body carefully to block her. He put his hands on Paulo's shoulders and the gun brushed against his chest.

"And…and…you know…when I was in the army, I had a friend, a very uplifting, spiritual guy, he's no longer a soldier but he…he once showed me a bible verse that said that certain people in the world, all the agents, cops, judges and stuff, the authorities…they're…they're put in place by God to wield the sword for a reason, to keep law and order and to stop the bad elements. He said, God would rather us forgo any violence and focus on serving him, but this is how it has to be in this world." Mac's hand hovered near Paulo's arm, and then he slowly reached out and got a firm grasp on the gun. He carefully aimed it to the ground.

"Paulo…let God do His work. Lindsey and Fred will not go unpunished, but it has to be done the right way, by the law. I don't want to see you get hurt or suffer; you've been through enough. Comprende?"

Paulo limply released the gun and Mac pulled it away and tucked it into the back of his pants waist. He hung back on his knees and wiped the sweat dripping from his brow. Mac the negotiator. Mac the peacemaker. It wasn't very long ago that he would have solved all these conflicts with guns and beat downs himself. The police moved in, first on Fred, who refused to leave the grave, even pulling up mouthfuls dirt when they cuffed his wrists.

"Stella's down there! Dig her up! Dig her up! She could be alive!" He bawled so hard that Mac had to swallow a lump in his throat, however this man was no better than Lindsey.

Two cops lifted up Lindsey and placed her on the stretcher when the paramedics approached. Her entire face was bloodied and swollen all shades of red, pink and blue. Her upper lip ballooned crookedly and she was missing a few teeth. Mac wanted to feel pity, but all he could muster up was contempt for the cold-blooded murderess. Paulo leaned against a headstone and slid down, giving way to fresh tears. Mac patted his shoulder and soothingly drew him toward the exit gate. There was no way that Lindsey would escape the death penalty now. He looked at her a last time and shook his head. She was going to get everything she deserved.