Star Investigations

Prologue

Lucy eyed vultures circling the distant heavens waiting for some animal on the ground to die. The land here was barren and dry, the earth cracked. There was a breeze that cooled slightly but not enough to fend off the midday heat. Other than the hiss of the wind or a distant squeak it was deadly silent. She could hear her boots on the gravel road and the sound of her breathing. She’d be in trouble if she didn’t get a ride soon.

A desolate farm, ravaged by time, stood partly erect across the road. A windmill rose above the scene like a skeleton, its blades making an odd hollow sound. A coyote stalked around the buildings searching for his midday meal. He flushed a rabbit and the two bounded across the field, soon out of sight.

Lucy was hitching her way to San Diego in hopes of landing a spot on a soap opera they were shooting. Her friend Meg was already competing for a part but then Meg’s parents were ultra rich and could afford to send their daughter by plane. Lucy had to sneak out of the house. Her parents would have a fit if they knew what she was doing right now. They thought she was visiting Meg and she was but would have to go to San Diego to do so. She never lied.

The last guy that gave her a ride turned off in the middle of nowhere leaving her between towns on a lonely stretch of highway. She’d not seen one car in the last hour but knew that if one came along she’d get a lift. Everyone at home complimented her on how beautiful she was. She’d been Prom Queen and Miss Phoenix. People, male or female, liked to look at her so she’d get a ride no matter who was driving the car.

First there was a dust plume then she heard a motor in the distance, a jeep and it was coming fast. It stopped in front of her. She was in luck: there was a big man in a business suit and two security guards. How much safer could she be? The big man smiled then said,

We’ve got room for exactly one more. Hop in.

Lucy giggled and jumped in the back next to him. She was offered a beer and gratefully accepted. She was dry as a bone. The big man tapped the shoulder of the driver and pointed to a distant field. They turned down a side road and that’s not where she was going.

Let me out please. I’m not going this way, said Lucy.

The big man just smiled and didn’t say a word. The other two stared straight ahead and acted as though they’d not heard either.

She was in trouble and knew it.

Please let me go. I don’t want to go this way, said Lucy.

No one said a word. The jeep was going too fast for her to jump out. She started to cry knowing what she was in for. She’d had sex with Tommy her boyfriend four times and all of those times it had hurt. The pain that three big men could cause would be unbearable.

They came to a grove of trees beside a small pond. An old house sinking into the ground was the only building in sight.

Come on angel, let’s take a walk, said the big man.

She sat, cried, and wouldn’t get up. The big man got out of the jeep, turned and faced her, lifted her by the waist, then set her down. She fought him, punching him with her fists to no avail. He dragged her into the house, the door open, half off its hinges. The floor boards creaked and sagged under his weight. The place smelled dusty and old.

In one room lay a bed, not dilapidated like the rest of the house. She knew then that they’d done this before.

Take off your clothes angel, said the big man.

No I won’t. I’m not that kind of girl, cried Lucy.

He grabbed her jacket and tore it away, then did the same with her blouse. He ripped the strap on her bra then pulled it off. He tossed her on the bed and pulled off her jeans. He undressed then climbed on top of her.

She screamed when he penetrated her, the worst pain she’d ever suffered. Then came the second and then the third.

They were by the pond sitting in the shade drinking beer. She put on her jeans, jacket, boots, then ran.

Lucy heard the jeep start, the sound growing louder as she dashed across the open field. She turned and saw it bearing down on her. She snaked trying to avoid it but it was no use. She felt the bumper smash into the back of her legs then an oppressive weight on her whole body. Her world went black.

Walker got out of the jeep joined by his guards.

You killed her you fool. We could have had a good evening. Load her in the jeep. We’ll take her to the facility.

Walker was on his way to the Lantic Facility where he worked as head of security. He was on his way to the medical building to see Dr. George Knowles.

Hello doctor. We have a gift for your research project.

The guards wheeled the dead girl into the room.

The doctor examined her and asked,

What happened?

I don’t know. We found her like this beside the road. It’s obvious she’s been hit, said Walker.

I’ll take care of her. Let me handle it from here, said George.

George watched Walker and the guards leave the room then took blood samples from the dead girl. He needed her DNA so he could formulate a serum that would cure her ills, death.

He took the blood filled syringes and injected them into tubes, all but one. He sealed the tubes and marked them with the number nine. He injected the syringe into a tiny embryo he’d cultivated from a woman’s womb and placed it in a tank filled with fluids.

Test subject number nine, he said proudly to no one in particular.

George had been a surgeon in New York until he lost his third malpractice lawsuit. That was the magic number that freed him from insurance premiums. No insurance company would have him and neither would any hospital. But there was always research especially the kind where the patients had no family to sue on their behalf.

Chapter 1

Jackie Star sat at her desk sipping her morning coffee as she watched the big blonde and the little brunette walk into her office. There was a battle going on between the fabric of the big blonde’s top and her breasts. Not only were they trying to shred the undersized blouse but they were also trying to spill over top. The thin textiles of her slacks were under the same stress from her ankles to her waist. She was dressed completely in blue except for her red leather boots. Two blue combs adorned her bleach blonde hair. She looked every bit a comic book hero.

The brunette beside her was almost a head shorter than her buxom friend, more on the cute side than majestic. She wore a tank top two sizes too small and a brown leather skirt with matching high heels. The skirt ended a lot less than half way to her knees, just barely legal in any state.

Jackie raised her brow wondering what they were doing in her office.

What can I do for you ladies? asked Jackie.

The big blonde took the gum from her mouth and stuck it to the inside liner of a boot then said,

Are you Mrs. Star? It says Star Detective Agency on your door and we need to see the boss, Jackie Star.

Yah, I’m Jackie.

Pleased to make your acquaintance Ms. Star, said the brunette.

What is it you need me from me?

The big blonde stepped up to the desk and said,

Well, it’s about Rosie you see. We heard your mother used to be in the trade so we came here. Well that’s what old Carroll said anyway, that your mother used to be one of us. You know what we’re up against. We’re professional girls. Rosie was too until somebody killed her. And you know that the cops do nothing for us.

So what exactly do you want me to do? asked Jackie.

The brunette spoke next.

To find her killer. They said it was suicide but Rosie wouldn’t kill herself. You’d have to know her. She was so full of life that one.

So the authorities have ruled her death suicide but you don’t agree. Why? asked Jackie.

The blonde was next and said,

Because she wouldn’t and why would someone search her room and take no valuables?

How do you know her room was searched? asked Jackie.

It was the brunette’s turn.

Well you see Rosie was a neat freak and things weren’t the way they were supposed to be. Lined up all perfect like, everything just so. You know what I mean. We can show you.

Jackie’s case load was full and she wanted get out from under this but these two were sticking up for a friend. A dead friend. And yes her mother was a hooker, Angel Star, who died of a drug overdose. She barely remembered her mother but did remember the disrespect accorded the street girls by the police, politicians, citizens, and their cliental.

Jackie had no intention of ever following in her mother’s footsteps but did believe that street girls were of some value. If a man was unable to snag a woman for whatever reason then he had somewhere to go when Mother Nature rattled his chain. He didn’t have to rape someone to answer her call.

It was politicians she had no use for, lower than any street girl she’d ever seen. They’d never go out of their way for a friend like these two.

What are your names? asked Jackie.

It was the blonde’s turn.

I’m Chyna and this is Samantha but we call her Sam, she said with a mock curtsy.

The gesture was comical and made Jackie laugh. She knew no one else would touch the case and what if it was murder? Someone would get away with killing a street girl. It could have been her mother many years ago.

All right Chyna and Sam let’s go take a look at her apartment. By the way you know I can’t work for free.

The brunette took an envelope from her purse and said,

We collected twenty eight hundred dollars for a start. Here take it. We’ll get more.

It’s two hundred a day plus expenses if I decide to take the case. If there indeed is a case. Let’s go take a look at her place. Hold onto the money for now.

They went downstairs to the parking lot and Jackie climbed into her Dodge Challenger, one that Romy had bought for her as a wedding present. It was white with custom black rims and had Jenny written on the back fenders. Two wide black stripes ran from front to back. Jenny was a beauty. Jackie popped the locks, Chyna and Sam climbed in.

Nice wheels, said the blonde.

Jackie had lost count and wondered if it was her turn to speak.

I take it the police tape and locks have been removed from Rosie’s apartment. said Jackie.

After only two days. They said they didn’t need to investigate a suicide. The stupid jerks, said Sam.

Jackie turned the key and Jenny’s Hemi roared to life. It was too tempting not to spin the wheels a little after throwing it into gear. Why buy something with an eight cylinder Hemi if you’re not going to use it? Besides the parking lot was empty and it was private property.

Take it easy Ms. Star we’re not used to machines like this, said Chyna.

It’s Jackie and do you two always alternate speaking?

It’s only polite. Sometimes our work isn’t. We only have each other, sometimes under the most trying of times, said Sam.

It was Chyna’s turn to speak.

Yah, if we get beaten the cops think we deserve it, we asked for it cause of what we do. So we team up, you know. It was me and Sam and Rosie and now Rosie’s dead and we want you to find her killer no matter what it costs. We’ll make more money, we’ll turn more tricks. We’ll screw our butts off if that’s what it takes.

Jackie roared in laughter almost losing control of her car. The idea of these two turning extra tricks to pay her was a little unsettling. She’d have to think about that. First things first. Let’s see if there is something to investigate.

Chapter 2

The drive across town to the Red Light District took over half an hour. Jackie parked Jenny on the street in front of the apartment building, locked her doors, and engaged the theft system. Nobody was going to steal her baby.

They climbed the stairway to the third floor where Chyna reached into her cleavage and pulled out a key. There was probably enough room to hold a purse full of goodies in that gap thought Jackie. They entered and the first thing that assaulted her was the blood on the double bed. It was one of those apartments where the living room and bedroom were one. It was large and lavishly furnished, comfortable, and would make a man feel at ease. There was a kitchen and a washroom at the far end. Before meeting Romy she’d lived in a place almost identical to this.

We left it the way it was when they found her so that you could check it out. We didn’t touch a thing, said Sam.

The first item Jackie checked was the door and lock.

It’s a brand new lock assembly and the door’s been repaired. The door bolt is new, said Jackie.

The cops had to break in after someone reported a shot. It was locked, said Chyna.

Do you know where the key was? asked Jackie.

On the dresser, said Chyna.

I think it was Sam’s turn to speak, said Jackie.

Sorry Sam, apologised Chyna.

The key was a small matter as there could be more than one but the door bolt was something else. It could only be slid into place from the inside meaning a killer would have to climb out the window so that’s where she went next.

There were two third story windows and they opened and closed with ease. They did however face the front of the building and were directly above the sidewalk. Surely no murderer would take a chance and lower himself into the arms of a patrolling cop.

She looked for marks left by a grappling hook, the kind used by burglars but found none. There were no drain pipes to shimmy down. It would be a long jump and would probably result in a broken leg if not both.

There was a washroom window but it was so small only a cat could get in or out. That certainly was one for the suicide theory.

What was the time of the murder? asked Jackie.

They said it was nine, early night, said Sam.

It was dark, but the streets are lit. Not well around here but there is light. I know what you’re thinking about the door bolt and all. It’s the one thing that doesn’t figure, said Chyna.

So what makes you think the place had been searched? asked Jackie.

Sam walked up to the dresser and said,

"Well look at the things on the dresser. They’re sitting crooked. Rosie was a neat freak and lined everything up perfectly like soldiers on parade. And in the drawers there’s creases in her clothes. And her nylons, there’s nine in one pile and