A Dallas Suite

Chapter Forty One

Moore told me to check my emails and meet with the other detectives. They weren't expecting me to come in today so they had continued further steps on the case. The five remaining names on the list were accounted for, based on what I saw.

So the good news was no one else was murdered last night, that we knew of. The bad news was we still didn't know the whereabouts of Jeff. There was no trace of him at the scene, besides the dead body and the cop he knocked out.

That either mean that he was done killing now that both Diggs and Singleton were out and he would run. Or he had diverted from his original ten victims now that he figured out we were on that trail. Or he was just waiting for an opportunity to strike again. I didn't like any of the options.

Hope approached my desk with a piece of paper that contained a single address. She slid it across my desk, on top of the case files I was reading.

"What's this?"

"This is Marcus Knight's hideaway apartment in the city. They weren't able to locate him last night, so he's hopefully here. And hopefully alive."

"What do you mean they didn't locate him? I just checked the email, McGreary said that everyone was accounted for and safe."

"No, he sent that email at three in the morning when he was exhausted. He said that everyone who was located was safe. But he failed to mention that Knight wasn't located."

I rubbed my head again and winced as a shot of pain flared from the back of my head down my back, into my legs.

"I guess I overlooked that. Okay so everyone was accounted for, except for Knight? Did they actually check the house or knock on the door and leave?"

"SWAT breached the front door. Under the circumstances, they figured they had good reason to go in, especially since he lives alone. They searched the entire house and found no one there. Last night, we didn't know he had a hideaway, but I was able to dig this morning and find it."

"Alright, well I guess we need to pay this guy a visit. You in?"

"I don't think Moore is going to allow you to go anywhere alone again. Let's go."

The apartment building wasn't far away from the department, just a couple of streets away on Beaumont Street. Pulling up to the front of the building, nothing looked out of the ordinary. People were walking in and out and going on about their days. Doesn't seem like anyone was murdered inside the building last night. At least not that anyone had found yet.

We went to the third floor, where all of the family sized apartments were located. There wasn't anything special or fancy about the building. I'd never guess that a multi millionaire was hiding out here, which I suppose is the whole point.

I knocked on the door and stepped to the side, out of the doorway. It was a safety tactic they taught you in the military and in law enforcement. If anyone decided to shoot at someone knocking or trying to come in their door, they'd most likely shoot directly at the door. So if you stepped to the side, you had a better chance of not being shot, which is something you want to prevent when you can.

A few moments passed before Marcus Knight opened the door. I had seen pictures of him, but he looked very different here in person. Marcus was an accountant who made a fortune by being a personal investor to other wealthy people. After that he started multiple non profits that focused on giving scholarships to the lower class. Somehow, even though it was a non profit, he found a way to make his bank accounts fill up even more. He was still a cherished man in the city and state to the kids he impacted. Thousands of people who had no option for school without the charity were able to get scholarships and later receive degrees. They seemed to look past his personal revenue stream.

Looking at him now, I wouldn't believe he was a wealthy man or a benefactor to underprivileged kids. The thin hair he had was disheveled, he had a beard of stubble from not shaving for a few days, his eyes were bloodshot red and he reeked of tequila. The silk robe he had on looked like it had just been thrown on and the chest was open, exposing an overly tanned, hairy patch of wrinkled skin.

"What?" He grunted at me as he stumbled back inside the apartment.

"Mr. Knight, I'm Detective Seeks and this is Detective Madison."

"I know who you are. I asked what you want, not who you are," he grabbed a rocks glass that looked like it contained straight tequila and took a large drink.

"Sir, we're here to check on your safety. And seeing that you appear fine, we want to offer you some security."

He laughed and half sat, half laid down on the sofa in the center of the room. "What kind of security do you want to offer me? I'm safe here, no one knows I have this apartment. It's paid cash and my name isn't linked to it."

"Well in all fairness, Sir," Hope decided to chime in since the man didn't appear to like me very much, "I was able to find this place. If I could, then someone else could. We'd like to offer you a police escort to ensure your safety. Or preferably, move you to a safer location."

"Fuck that, I'm not going anywhere. If the man finds me, he finds me. But I'm not going to some shitty police safe house, if y'all even have those. Now as far as you having a cop babysit me, I can't stop you from doing that. But they are not allowed in my building. This is a private building and I'll sue whoever comes to my door for harassment. They can watch for your big bad killer from their car on the road if they want to. Now, if I'm not being detained, which I'm not, then you two can piss off."

I turned and looked at Hope once we were in the elevator, "it's a shame being an asshole isn't an arrest-able offense."

"Well if it was, that guy would have been in jail years ago."