Page 1 of Built of Illusions

Chapter 1

Lady Killer

Nico Rivera considered himself a master of emotional illusion. No one watching him would have a clue that anger and guilt consumed him. Another young woman had been murdered and he hadn’t been able to stop it. Once Nico caught him, this bastard would never breathe free air again.

Nico kept his face impassive and his body relaxed as he studied the motel scene. Thankfully, one of the officers had recognized that this woman might be part of the pattern Nico and his partner were uncovering. He didn’t have the proof he needed yet, but he was positive that a serial killer was working his way through the states in the southwest. Their bosses didn’t fully believe his theory, but he’d had enough successes to be granted a lot of leeway in his investigations.

Nico had been called out late on Christmas night. He’d left his friends in Vermont to come to a tiny motel on a back street in LA to look at death. Well, the remnants of it anyway.

It hadn’t been an easy death for Alessandra Wheatley. She’d been strangled with a flexible wire while the killer looked her in the eyes. Her face had been slashed and Nico had seen enough crime scenes to know at least a few of those slashes had been before she died.

Nico kept the sigh internal as he squatted down beside where the body had been. The medical examiner had taken the woman, but there were enough photographs taken that Nico had no difficulty seeing her there. We’ll catch him, Alessandra. We’ll make sure he pays. Nico rarely said the words aloud, but he always talked to the victims. They were the ones with the insider knowledge. Knowledge he needed if he was to catch another example of the worst that humanity had to offer.

“You think it’s our current scumbag at work?” Roman Delgado clicked his camera as he took his own photos of the room. Nico and Roman had been working together for years and he appreciated the man’s attention to detail and his compassion for the victims. If anyone could help Nico take this bastard down, it was his buddy Roman.

“I do. The injuries aren’t identical, but they never are. Same level of rage and she fits his type.”

Alessandra had been gorgeous. Latina heritage evident in the dark eyes that were wide with terror. Thick black curls that hung below her shoulders. Slim.

She remained fully dressed and Nico hoped she hadn’t been sexually assaulted. Their scumbag hadn’t crossed that line yet. Which gave clues to the man’s past and to his rage.

Why was he killing these women? What aspect of this woman called to his fixation? What was the trigger?

Alessandra had been an aspiring actress who worked as a waitress to pay the bills. None of the other victims had been actresses, but they were all involved with some kind of artistic work. Dancer, singer, musician, painter.

Did the jobs matter? Was the person he imagined killing over and over again involved in one of these professions? All of them?

The lack of sexual assault on the victims had Nico thinking the creep was imagining his mother as he strangled each woman. That almost made Nico shudder but he kept himself neutral.

Nico’s mom, Lisa Rivera, was everything a mother should be. She worked as a part-time lawyer. She and his dad, Manny, had fostered kids for as long as Nico could remember.

Every kid should have parents like Lisa and Manny. That would solve pretty much all the problems in the world. If this scumbag had been fostered with the Riveras, there wasn’t a chance he could do this. They would have found him the help he needed long before he started hurting people.

But this man hadn’t received help and he was killing a string of women across several states. Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and now California.

Nico had to figure him out, track him down, and toss his ass in jail for the rest of his life. Preferably before he killed anyone else. He also had to convince his bosses that not only were these cases connected, but that there might be more victims out there that no one had yet connected to the pattern.

Nico pushed to his feet and took a slow survey of the tiny motel room. Alessandra had been paying by the month while she hoped for her big break. Why had she chosen a motel and not an apartment? Was it cheaper? Closer to work? Or had she not been in town long enough to find one?

The motel wasn’t top of the line, but it wasn’t at the lowest level either. Maybe somewhere below mid-price. The paint job had probably been done when Nico was playing with Legos and the bathroom fixtures were blue. Still, the room was tidy and clean.

Alessandra’s clothes were immaculate and hung neatly on the rack. The drawers were organized and she’d laid layers of wax paper on them before putting in her own items. She had a couple of framed photos showing a younger version of herself with an older couple. Had to be her parents.

It would be Nico’s job to talk to them. To shatter their world and their hearts.

A few knickknacks sat on top of the nightstand and dresser. A small Hollywood sign. A tiny Oscar statue. A stuffed bear and a photo album. Representations of her dreams and her past.

Roman sighed and put the lens cap on the camera. “Such a waste. No signs of drug use or even alcohol. Everything we’ve got so far points to a nice young woman working hard to make her dream a reality.”

They’d dig further. Look for connections to see if the attack was based on who Alessandra Wheatley was as opposed to who she represented to her killer. Nico’s gut told him they wouldn’t find anyone who’d hated her enough to want her dead.

There wasn’t enough destruction for it to be a robbery or a drug search. The only destruction was of Alessandra herself. The only thing out of place were her car keys tossed on the floor. From that and the position of the woman’s body, it appeared she’d been on her way out the door when she’d been attacked. Her white blouse and dark pants pointed to an upcoming shift at the restaurant.

Nico walked to the door and looked out at the lot. The police cars lit up the scene, but he had enough experience to look past that.

This was a small strip motel set up perpendicular to the road. The parking lot would have been full of shadows. The light nearest this room and at least one in the parking lot were broken. He knew he’d find glass from a recent break scattered on the ground below both.

“It’s him, Roman.”