The Case of the Lipstick Killer

Max cut in. "But here's where I think we got lucky. Fresno PD found an unsub's blood on the sheet next to the victim that wasn't the victim's, and they kept it in their lab. In addition to that, the Fresno killer left a lipstick kiss on the victim's cheek, just like was found on Brad Morrison and the bartender from the Kona Club. A detective from Fresno PD is hand-delivering the samples to your lab sometime today," said Max.

"We just need to get a sample of Gwen Stein's DNA so your lab can run a comparison and see if they match. And maybe at some point, the police can get a search warrant to see if Gwen has that same lipstick in her possession."

Oh, that's what the message I got means. This Fresno detective called my office this morning to advise us that he was on his way, and he'd be here somewhere around noon or so, depending on how much traffic he hit on his way up here."

"Excellent," I replied.

"As far as getting a sample of Gwen Stein's DNA, that might be a problem. Jackie Morrison's girlfriend, Lani, was assaulted by a woman who held a knife to her throat and threatened to come back and cut her if she didn't stay away from Jackie. Unfortunately, she didn't get a good enough look at her assailant to pick her out of a photo lineup. Without her being able to identify her attacker, we have no evidence to arrest Gwen Stein. If we did, we could legally take a DNA sample from her. With no ID, we've got bupkis," said Wheeler.

"Do you think she's cocky enough to volunteer a sample?" I asked.

"You know, she just might be. No harm in trying. But if she refuses, at least for now, we have no way of getting a sample and comparing it to what you found in Fresno." "Well, shit," said Max. "I feel like we're so close. What a shame."

"Don't give up yet," said Wheeler. "I'll give her a call and see what she says. You never know. Give me your card and go have some lunch, and I'll call you as soon as I find something out."

"Here you go, Detective. We'll be waiting to hear from you."

"I know where we can get a nice lunch before," said Max. "We're only a few minutes away from Scott's Seafood over at Jack London Square. I love that place. It has a great view of the water and sailboats."

"That sounds like a great idea. Let's go there," I replied.

SCOTT'S SEAFOOD RESTAURANT

JACK LONDON SQUARE, OAKLAND

11:45 a.m.

I enjoy spending time with this over the top Cajun woman from New Awlins. I just wish she would stop flirting with me. She's wearing my defenses down. I can almost taste her luscious-looking lips. And that perfume she wears makes my knees feel weak. I have to be strong. I have a hunch that her knowing I was walking around with man parts would be just a little off-putting. Oh, God. What if she liked it? Great. I'll just ask her and see what she says. I don't think so. She's too good of an investigator to lose because I'm starting to think with the wrong head. I guess I'll just settle for lunch at this point.

Okay. Are you done talking to yourself now? Are you sure? Jesus.

I asked for and got a seat by the window, and the view was beautiful. It was a clear day for a change, and a few sailboats were sailing about, trying to stay out of the way of the giant container ship that was being turned and pushed into docking position by several tugboats at the Port of Oakland's Estuary dock.

"I think I'm going to have the seafood salad," said Max. "I had it last time, and it was great. It reminds me of being home in Looziana."

"I just love the way you say that, Max. It's so endearing."

"Endearing?" replied Max. "You keep talking like that, and I'm gonna get all hot and bothered. Is it too early for a cocktail? I mean, I'm with the boss. If she says it's okay, we're good."

"Well, what the hell. I'll have a Mai Tai," I said.

"Let's make that two," replied Max.

Max and I, the two hottest women in the restaurant, sat there enjoying our Mai Tais and lunch. Max again had the seafood salad, and I opted for the poached salmon, which was delicious.

Max and I had been sitting there for a few ticks past an hour, and then my phone rang. I almost jumped out of my chair. So did Max.

"Oh, God," said Max. "I almost peed my pants. Hurry up. Answer it."

"This is Nikki."

"Hey, Nikki. Detective Wheeler here. I just got off the phone with Gwen."

"And?" I replied, dying with anticipation.

"And she agreed to let us take a DNA swab from her. I'm surprised. I thought she would tell me to F off, which would have been within her rights. She must be pretty sure of herself. Either that or she's innocent. That could also be the case," said Wheeler.

"And she also invited us to look around her place to see if we can find a tube of matching lipstick. But I'm not expecting much from that. All she needs to do is get rid

of it if she does have one. But we'll see. We'll surely take her up on her offer. Hopefully, she doesn't get an attorney between then and now because we'd be shut out in a hummingbird's heartbeat if she did.

"That's exciting news, Detective. How long before we'll know if she's a match?" I asked.

"Well, it depends on when I get the sample and get it to the lab. Once they get the sample, it shouldn't take more than an hour or so. You two take your time and enjoy your lunch, and I'll call you back when I hear something," said Detective Wheeler.

"We'll be here," I said.

Max was hopping up and down in her seat. She could tell what was going on, and she couldn't help herself. Max was feeling the effects of the two Mai Tais. I stopped at one because I'm driving. That didn't prevent Max from leaning across the table and giving me a short but sensual kiss on the lips.

"Um," I said, not sure what to put on the other side of the um.

"I'm so sorry, Nikki," said Max. "I just got so excited, and it just seemed so natural. Please don't fire me. I like working with you guys too much."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to fire you. You just caught me by surprise."

"Fun, isn't it?" replied Max.

" I find you crazy attractive, but it just can't happen."

"Well, I won't tell anyone if you won't," said Max with a tint of wishful thinking attached to her words and punctuated by her overly seductive eyes, which were pouring over me like a hot July rainstorm in Looziana.

Jesus Christ. If I had half an ounce more of courage, I'd clear this table, lay Max down on it, and do things to her that would land both of us in jail.

After we finished our delicious lunch, we went back to the office to get some work done before the day was over. After work, we both went to our respective homes--Max went to her apartment--and I spent the evening in quiet frustration, trying hard not to think about that short but sweet kiss. I hope Max is feeling the same way I am.

Dammit, Max. I hope you're happy.

NIKKI FONTAINE INVESTIGATIONS

GRAND AVENUE, OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

February 13, 9:30 a.m.

Nora stopped what she was doing and just stared at Barton when he walked into the office wearing a bicycle helmet, tight biker pants, and knee pads, for God's sake.

"What the--"

"Don't say a word, Nora. And that goes for you, too," he said while pointing his finger at me, as I stood up at my desk upon seeing Barton walk into the office.

"Since I lost my car to the Oakland Police Department, my new mode of transportation is a 10-speed bike, and all of this is considered safety equipment. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to a minimum. And just so you know, I've been clean for almost a week. I'm going to a cocaine anonymous group, and I plan on keeping clean. And since I'll be riding a bike everywhere until I get another car, I'll be getting great cardio exercise. Plus, while I'm at it, I'm changing my diet to take advantage of more healthful options. Maybe I can shed a few pounds in the process. "So you guys are going to have to work hard to keep up with me."

"Okay, Barton. I like this new you," said Nora.

"You've got my vote," I said. "I think what you're doing is great. I hope you keep it up. Who knows? Maybe what you're doing might rub off on the rest of us."

"Thank you. It took a lot for me to come in here looking like this. I feel like a fucking clown."

"I wouldn't go that far, Barton," said Nora.

"Well, how far would you go, Nora?" he asked.

"I'm just kidding, Barton. You look fine. Don't be so sensitive. You know we love you, even if you look like a dork."

"That's it. You--"

"Lighten up. I'm just messing with you. You're inspiring me to take up bike riding. I hear it's great for the legs," said Nora.

"All right. I think we can all get back to work now," I interjected. "I'm just glad Max isn't here yet. This shit would go on all morning."

"Did someone mention my name?" said Max as she walked in the door. "Oh, shit, Barton. What's with the--"

"See? What did I tell you? I'm just a joke to all of you," whined Barton.

"No, you're not," continued Max. "I think you have very sexy legs."

"I'll get back at you guys. When the weather warms up, I'm going to start wearing biker shorts. If you think I look good in these biker pants, wait till you see me in a pair of biker shorts. That will serve all of you right. I locked my bike up at the back of the building. Don't any of you mess with it. No gum on the seat, that kind of thing. All right?"

"No one's going to mess with your bike, Barton," I said. "Right, everyone? No messing with Barton's little bike."

"Jesus," said Barton as he turned his back on everyone and went into his office and closed the door. They could hear him talking loudly to himself, but they couldn't understand the exact words.

It's probably better that they couldn't understand what he was saying.

2:45 p.m.

"Call for you on line 2, Nikki," said Nora as she clicked the earphone in her ear.

"This is Nikki Fontaine," I said as I picked up the phone.

"Hi, Nikki. This is Detective Wheeler. I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you. The Fresno sample did not match the DNA sample we took from Gwen Stein this morning. That means she's off the hook. It doesn't mean she's innocent. It just means she's off the hook, at least for now."

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed," I replied. "I thought we had Gwen. That would have gone a long way to clear Jackie of her husband's murder. Okay. Well, thank you, Detective Wheeler. We'll keep plugging along on our end."

Detective Wheeler continued.

"But there is something else that has me scratching my head. We got a hit on some lipstick of all things."

"Lipstick?" I replied. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I got the results back from the evidence gathered by our crime scene techs at Jackie Morrison's house on the night of her husband's murder. There was a lipstick kiss smudge on Brad's cheek. The lab compared that lipstick with all of Jackie's lipsticks gathered from her house, and nothing matched. Whatever lipstick that was on Brad's cheek didn't match anything of Jackie's. That's damn peculiar.

"But if you think that's crazy--I sure do--there's one more thing that's right out of the Twilight Zone. When Jackie's current girlfriend, Lani, was attacked the other day and had a knife held to her throat, her attacker kissed her on the neck before fleeing the scene. And guess what? When two officers responded to Lani's 911 call, she told them about the kiss, and one of the officers thought to take a picture and use a handkerchief to get a sample of the lipstick mark on Lani's neck. The officer turned the sample into the crime lab, and when they ran it through their database, it came up as a match to the lipstick found on Brad Morrison's cheek on the night of his murder.

"I find that downright stunning information. But what knocks the wheels off the wagon is the fact that the lipstick samples from both Lani's neck and Brad's cheek match the sample from that old murder in Fresno.

"Now, if that doesn't qualify as the weirdest shit you've ever heard, I don't know what does," said Wheeler.

"What the fuck!" I blurted out before I could put the language brakes on my mouth. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Detective. You just caught me by surprise."

"Don't worry about it. I said the same thing when I found out about that."

"Well, it's a particular shade and brand of lipstick. It's called Christian Louboutin Velvet Matte Diva. This specific tube of lipstick sells for just under a hundred dollars. So I'd say it's safe to say there aren't a lot of women walking around wearing this stuff.

"I just thought you'd find this interesting. But it's still some weird shit. I'll keep you posted if we get anything out of this.

"It was a good try, Nikki. You guys did good work. I look forward to working with you and Max in the future. Take care now," said Wheeler.

"You too. Thanks."

Well, if that doesn't kick you right in the balls. If it wasn't Gwen, both here and in Fresno, who the hell was it?

And this crazy shit about the lipstick, what the hell is that?

"Hey, Max," I said over the intercom, "come see me."

"Be right there."

"I just heard from Detective Wheeler. The samples didn't match. That Gwen bitch is off the hook for the Fresno homicide, and probably for Brad Morrison's murder also unless we can find some relevant evidence," I said.

"Well, that sucks," replied Max. "Where do we go from here?" "And here's one for the books. You're not going to believe this one."

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this, darlin'," replied Max.

"Okay. Fasten your seat belt. So Jackie's girlfriend Lani was assaulted by some crazy bitch the other day, who held a knife to her throat and told her to stay away from Jackie. Then the whacko with the knife kissed Lani on the neck before taking off. So the police took a sample of the lipstick that was left on Lani's neck and took it to the lab. When the lab ran this particular lipstick through their database, they came up with a match."

"A match to what?" asked Max.

"It was a dead-on match for the lipstick that the OPD crime scene techs got off of Brad Morrison's cheek on the night of his murder. And on top of that, they all match the old lipstick sample found on the murder victim in Fresno, that Jaeger woman. So whoever the hell is doing the killing in Oakland did at least one killing in Fresno. That limits the field of contestants. We need to start focusing on people who lived in Fresno at that time and are now in Oakland."

"What the fuck--I'm sorry. That just spun my brain too fast to keep up with," said Max.

"Don't worry. I had to apologize to Detective Wheeler when for saying the same thing when she told me about the lipstick. I don't know what we do with this information, but that's just one more little piece of evidence in our basket. Who knows? Maybe something will come up later where this comes in handy.

"But for the time being, our client is still vulnerable on this. It's a circumstantial case, but you never know what a jury is going to do when the main suspect is the husband or wife of the victim."

"Okay. We'll keep following leads and following whatever evidence we have and see where it leads us," said Max.

"That's all we can do. I think I'm going home early to go over some of the evidence and have some wine. My brain needs a break," I said.

"Let me know if you feel like any company," said Max in her most hopeful voice.

"Not tonight. The last thing I need right now is more stress. And, honey, right now you are more stress. It's not bad stress. It's just more stress than I can cope with right now. I think I'm going to throw a party at my place soon and invite everyone from the office. I'll expect you to come."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll be waiting with eager anticipation," said Max.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"Good-night, boss," said Max as she walked back to her office.

OAKLAND POLICE DEPARTMENT

February 15, 8:45 a.m.

"What are you working on?" asked Detective Manny Sanchez as he walked up to his desk across from Detective Johnson's desk.

"I'm doing some checking on that assault on the two tow truck drivers on Elmhurst Avenue on February 4th. It's too coincidental that three men were shot on the same street the next day. That looks more like revenge to me than mere happenstance."

"I think you might be right," replied Manny. "So, where are you looking?"

"I'm looking into the backgrounds of our two victims. One of them was in the hospital at the time of the shootings, so we know it wasn't him. That's Danny. That leaves Dooley. I want to find out more about him."

"Let me know if there's anything you need me to do to help out," said Manny. "Thanks. Will do. I'll let you know what I find out."

Detective Sanchez had a few leads that he needed to leave the office to investigate, and Donte was focused on his computer, seeing what he could find on Dooley.

The first thing Donte did was see if Dooley had any criminal record. There was nothing.

That's good. Maybe there's nothing here and it was just a coincidental shooting. But I have to be thorough. If Danny and Dooley are clean, I'll move on. I want to be sure I don't overlook something. Let's see if Dooley's been in the military.

It didn't take long for Donte to find a listing for Dooley Monroe.

"All right. What do we have here?" said Donte out loud.

"Jesus. This guy was a frigging Army Ranger. Damn," said Donte. "Let's see what his MOS was. Holy shit," he yelled. "He was a goddamn sniper. Well, that's one hell of a red flag. We need to talk with Mr. Dooley Monroe."

NIKKI FONTAINE INVESTIGATIONS

GRAND AVENUE, OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

February 15, 8:50 a.m.

It was the day after Valentine's Day, and Max and I were already in the office. The two of us were in the middle of a conversation when we heard horns honking from two or three cars simultaneously.

"Good God," said Max. "This sounds like New York City. What's up with all the damn honking?"

"That must be Nora walking from her car to the office," I replied, shaking my head at the realization.

"What do you mean, that must be Nora?" asked Max.

"Well, she--"

The sound of screeching brakes immediately followed the loud horn honking.

"Oh, shit," I said. "Nora must be wearing her red leather miniskirt today."

"How could you know all of that?" asked Max.

"Because this isn't the first time this has happened. Sometimes Nora becomes a health risk to the public just by getting dressed in the morning," I replied. "She has a figure, especially when she drapes it with short skirts and silk blouses, that can and will stop traffic. The problem is that sometimes not all of the traffic stops."

I had barely finished my statement when Nora walked in the door. Indeed, she was wearing her red leather miniskirt paired with a white silk blouse and her CFM Christian Louboutin suede and mesh red-sole pumps.

"I can't believe all the honking that's going on. I hear it all the time. There should be a law against honking so much. You'd think we were in New York City," said Nora as she closed the door behind her and walked up to her desk.

"I think you're right, sweetie," replied Max. "Just like New York City."

Max turned and winked at me as she was making her statement.

"You look very nice today," I said.

And then I walked up to Nora's desk so no one else could hear what I was saying.

"Well, you look like you're feeling much better. You doing okay?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm doing much better. Screw that witch. I'm not going to let her stop me from living. I always feel better when I'm wearing something nice, so that's what I'm doing.

"So how do you think I look?" said Nora loud enough for others to hear.

"Like a million bucks and change, sweetie," I replied. "A million bucks wasn't quite enough."

"Well, thank you. I have lots of nice clothes, so I figured that I might as well wear them. Don't you think?"