Intimate Relations by Rebecca Forster (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📕

casual about their involvement with her. This was underscored by the fact that lawyers secured her computer but did not claim her body. The faceless corpse still rested in Paul's cold storage along with four hundred other stiffs. The thought of that –of a young woman left naked and alone—softened Cori's mood. She made a note to see if that had changed in the last few days.

On the right side of the board there was another circle. This one was marked E/EC, Enver and Emily Cuca. Their 'family tree' included Roxana (question mark), Asian man (question mark). The business lines were blank except for Ali Keyes. But Ali wasn't really a connection. One of his associates had booked the Cuca space at the behest of a corporation. Instructions were specific as to food, time, number of guests, and the fee paid for use of the Cucas’ living area. The artist and his wife had no relatives in the United States. The relatives in Albania were few, and the Cucas had not spoken to them since they had immigrated.

The Cucas’ clients were not listed. They had created more than 1500 companions. They dealt in cash, the names and addresses of their clients were sketchy.  These folks preferred keeping their predilection for silicone over flesh private. Cori requested the Cucas’ income tax returns. The Cucas’ accountant was on it.

 There was a third bubble. This one bore no picture, only the title AIing Inc. Roxana had a contract with this corporation, agreeing to stop her career as an influencer in return for a large sum of money. The same one that barred Enver Cuca from reproducing Cami's image. This was the same corporation that contracted with Sam to retrieve Roxana's computer. The legal name of the corporation was Action Intelligencing Inc. It was a multinational concern. Its subsidiaries and ownership interests stretched from small towns in the Midwest to villages in Sri Lanka, and chic addresses in Hong Kong, London, and Paris. The subsidiaries each had their own map of influence.

Cori and Finn only wanted to know who the human being was who set the wheels in motion that led to Roxana's death, not the history of the corporation. They would do a deep dive into AIing Inc. if it became necessary, but they believed the web that needed unraveling was closer to home.  It was spun by someone who had caught up Asylum, the Cucas, and Roxana. Somewhere in the mess was one person who knew exactly what happened that night and why that girl had to die.

Cori put her elbow up on the desk. She rested her head in her upturned palm, curling a stray hair around one finger as she looked at the board. Her eyes were pulled back time and again to the pictures of the Cucas’ unit. The first room. The tables. Sofas. Chairs. The knife and the mutilated companion.

The second landing. Nothing but a locked closet and bare walls.

The third. Cori shivered as her gaze lingered on the workroom. Even in a photograph that place looked like a portal to hell. Then there was the 'house' room as they had come to call it. But it wasn't a house at all; it was the stage for a brutal crime. So clean. So useless. Cori dropped her hand. She bit her bottom lip. The pictures told a story that Cori didn't understand.

She let her gaze linger on the yellow plastic markers where blood traces had been found. Some had been so microscopic that she and Finn missed them. The forensic team identified them at the entrance to the 'house' room, and then again near the worktable. The person who beat Roxana walked through the workroom, paused at the table, and —what? The microscopic blood drops had ended there. Where had that person gone? Where had they put the murder weapon? Where...

Cori looked back at the photographs of the 'house' room. The closer the camera moved to the curtains surrounding the bed, the more prevalent the markers were.  Near the platform on which the mattress sat there was only yellow tape. No need to mark a spot, there was blood everywhere. The pictures that had been taken after the mattress, curtains, and pillows were removed and sent to the lab caught her interest. The tape was still there. The platform was still there but without the curtains it was more interesting. Cori looked at the bathroom area and the freestanding tub. She cut over to the mock up of the living room. Her gaze traveled to the meticulous arrangement of the outdoor furniture.

She sat up, and leaned forward. Cori closed her eyes, and then opened them again. She was concentrating so hard it took her a moment to realize that Finn was beside her. She didn't bother to acknowledge their tiff; she didn't want to talk about warrants or what they had lost.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"A well put together but incomplete evidence display." Finn said. "What do you see?"

Cori got up. She walked to the board. She pointed to each of the 'house' room pictures: living room, bathroom, dining room, patio.

"I. See. Roxana's. House."

Cori turned her head. Her big blue eyes were wide; the shadow above them sparkled prettily in the ugly bullpen light. Finn's lips tipped. He moved to her side, nodding. His fingers traced a path over the photographs. He saw it too. The 'house' room was built for Roxana. It was a home away from home.

"'Tis a gilded cage," Finn said.

"Why?" Cori wondered. "Why would she want to stay in a place like that?"

"She sold her soul to some devil," Finn said. "The contract says she is to cut off from her world. Someone bought her, Cori, and this is where they would put her once she signed the contract."

"Pedal could be right. Maybe Roxana was a slave." Cori pointed to the pictures. "That was going to be her doll house once they hooked everything up. Lord above, could Cuca be