“He’s not the type. Can you imagine Nore romancing someone?” He shook his head. “But…do we know where he is now?” Kyle asked.

Jimmy shook his head. “He was supposed to be living in Stuart, and a social worker was supposed to have been looking in on him once every couple of weeks, but you know how things like that go. He disappeared after the social worker’s first visit. I have guys looking for him now, but…he could be anywhere. Including Miami.”

Kyle tapped a pencil against Jimmy’s desk, then shook his head.

“It can’t be Nore.”

“Why not? He killed Lainie. He admitted it. Said she was the devil’s spawn. Maybe he feels that way about redheads in general. Now that he’s loose and out on his own, maybe he thinks God has told him to kill more redheads, more of the devil’s spawn.”

“I don’t think so.”

Jimmy groaned, aggravated. “Why can’t anything ever be simple with you guys? Nore is a homicidal maniac! He butchered his wife, then Lainie, and it looks as if he’s at it again.”

Kyle shook his head, smiling slightly. “Nore never went to trial for Lainie’s murder.”

“Christ! He confessed to it!”

“Right. But he’s a certifiable madman, and madmen confess to crimes.”

“You had too many years of college, boy. Madmen don’t confess to crimes, they commit them!”

“Jimmy, this killer is suave and sleek. He seduces his victims. Hell, remember what Nore looked like? His eyes were wild, his smile was a leer. He’s about as seductive as a rabid dog. I don’t think he’s our man.”

Jimmy was quiet. He sighed. “Damn it, I hate it when you almost make sense.”

Kyle shrugged. “Nore shouldn’t have been let out.”

“No way in hell,” Jimmy agreed.

“It would still be a good idea to find him, find out if he’s been in Miami, question him.”

“I’ve got an APB out on him now.”

“Good. I think we’re going to have an interesting afternoon.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s your suggestion.”

“Let’s hit the tattoo parlors ourselves.”

“We’ve got beat cops on it already, you know.”

“Yeah, but let’s get involved ourselves. Unless you’ve got some other clue we could be following?”

“I always wanted to get inside a sleazy tattoo parlor,” Jimmy said. “Let’s go.”

They spent the afternoon visiting tattoo parlors, showing pictures of the rose tattoos from the bodies of the two dead women to the various “body artists” at the different establishments. They found similar tattoos, but nothing exactly the same as either one. They also questioned everyone about Holly Tyler.

Toward the end of the day, near seven, they got lucky at a place in Florida City called Tammy’s Tailored Tattoos and Tea Parlor. Tammy herself greeted them. She was a small woman wearing skimpy leather shorts and a skimpier vest that barely covered her ample bosom. Her hair was dyed a neon orange, teased and piled on her head. She flirted like crazy, until she made a sudden withdrawal, instinctively wary, when she realized they were the law. Kyle cut through her defensive stuttering, assuring her that they were interested in finding out about rose tattoos and Holly Tyler, nothing else.

Tammy studied the picture of Holly Tyler’s buttocks for only a moment before staring wide-eyed at Kyle. “My God! She’s dead? That pretty little thing is dead?”

“She was here?” Jimmy said quickly.

Tammy nodded, wide-eyed. “That’s my work.”

“When did you do it?” Jimmy demanded.

“Last Friday, late afternoon, early evening. She was in a big hurry, getting the tattoo to please some man.”

Jimmy flashed Kyle a quick look.

“Who was the man?” Kyle asked.

“I don’t know. He never came in here. She walked in by herself, real uncertain-like. She’d never had a tattoo before. She seemed to think we’re the devil’s den or something like that. The guy didn’t come with her. I didn’t make it as elaborate as I would have liked, ’cause she was in a hurry. She wanted the tattoo ’cause of this guy she had a real thing for. She was all excited and talkative, once she got comfortable. Said that good men were so hard to find these days, and this guy was a real prince. Nice guy, opened doors for her, paid for dates…and he was taking her for a romantic weekend on the water. They were just gonna lie around all weekend, drink wine, swim a little, fish a little, and make love like rabbits.”

“Where were they going, do you know?”

Tammy shook her head. “South. I’m not sure where. Just somewhere south. Maybe Key Largo, maybe Marathon…hell, maybe they were going all the way down to Key West. All she talked about is how great a guy he was, how excited she was…and how he wanted her to have a rose tattoo where only he could see it.”

“Did she say whether he was dark, light, blond, bald, Anglo, Latin, anything?”

Tammy shook her head.

“She didn’t describe the guy at all?” Jimmy asked.

“I’m really sorry. I—” She stopped suddenly, remembering something.

“What?” Kyle asked.

“She was really proud of the guy. Said how good-looking he was, yet kind of shy. Refused to have his picture taken. She was telling me that she had sneaked a couple of Polaroids when he wasn’t looking, but when she started digging around in her purse to find the pictures, she realized she must have forgotten them or lost them or something. She didn’t have them, so she couldn’t show me.”

“Damn,” Jimmy breathed.

The understatement of the year, Kyle thought. “Call in, have Holly Tyler’s house searched for photos and follow up every lead,” he said to Jimmy.

Jimmy nodded. “We’ll get guys right on it.”

Tammy looked at them sorrowfully, plainly realizing what a difference it would have made if she’d only been able to see the pictures. “God, I’m sorry. You know that I’d help you if I could.”

“Well, you’ve got us looking for photos now, so you might turn out to have been more of a help than you know.”

“If I think of anything else…”

“Sure,” Kyle said. He took out a business card and wrote down the number to Jordan’s house in Key West, along with his cell phone. “If you think of anything at all, no matter how minor you may think it is, please, please, call one of us,” he said, watching as Jimmy also handed her a card.

They left the tattoo parlor, driving north, back to Miami. They went back to Jimmy’s office, adding the new information to the time board they were constructing regarding Holly Tyler’s last movements.

“You’re really hung up on this tattoo thing,” Jimmy told Kyle, driving him to the airport to catch a commuter flight back to Key West.

Kyle glanced at his watch, annoyed to see how late it had gotten. After ten. It would be nearly midnight when he got back to Jordan’s house. He didn’t like Madison being there alone.

He glanced at Jimmy, about to tell him that he was worried because Madison had a similar tattoo.

He refrained. Jimmy might wonder how he knew about the tattoo, and he felt certain that Madison wouldn’t want anyone else knowing why he was so familiar with it.

It suddenly seemed important to him that no one know about Madison’s tattoo.

No one.

Naturally Darryl Hart would know about his ex-wife’s tattoo, but no one else had to know, and Kyle was determined to keep quiet about it.

He hesitated for a minute, then said, “Lainie had a similar tattoo.”

“Lainie!” Jimmy eyed him, frowning. “How do you know?”

“She was married to my father.”

“Oh,” Jimmy said. He still sounded suspicious. He glanced sideways at Kyle.

“No, I did not have an adolescent affair with my stepmother,” Kyle assured him dryly.

“I wasn’t suggesting any such a thing, I was just…”

“Wondering?” Kyle said.

Jimmy shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have gone near Lainie with a ten-foot pole,” Kyle murmured.

He realized that Jimmy was staring at him suspiciously again.

He glanced at Jimmy, smiling. “She was hell on wheels. Tortured my father and Jordan. And plenty of other men, I’m certain.”