Free Casanova Killer by Tallulah Grace

smug smile, even as his heart sank. “So, did you ever meet my competition?”
“No, he always waited in the car for Sonja to come down.”
“Can you describe him for me, just so I know what I’m up against.” Dylan looked appropriately hopeful.
“Sure, handsome. He looked tall, at least I think so. It’s hard to tell from my window.” She whispered conspiratorially.  Dylan nodded. “He had longish black hair and a thick mustache, which I normally don’t like but on him it looked good. Broad shoulders, sort of like yours, and high cheekbones. His face reminded me of Rock Hudson, you know, an actor from ancient movies.”
“You saw a good bit from your window.” Dylan smiled again. The girl moved closer.
“Would you like to come in?” She invited. “We could get to know each other while you wait on Sonja.”
“Thanks, sugar, but I’ll have to pass today. I’m sure I’ll see you again, though.” Dylan straightened and moved away from the door. He was beginning to feel like he had a contact high.
“Your loss.” She breathed and slowly closed the door.
Dylan sent a text to Ethan and Nate with the description of the unsub. He also suggested that Nate order a helicopter to scour the surrounding cliffs. He knew in his gut that Sonja was dead.
“Where’s my damn clairvoyance when I need it?” He mumbled as he walked down to the first floor. Ever since Dylan was a small boy, he’d had visions of events as they happened. Most often, the visions only concerned those closest to him. His grandmother had explained that he had a gift, that he should be grateful that God considered him to be so special. Dylan considered it a curse and evidence that God either had a sense of humor or didn’t like him very much. The worst vision to date was of his wife cheating on him with his best friend. Former wife and former best friend, he clarified to himself.
“Just once, couldn’t the damn gift help me solve a case?” He whispered as he knocked on the door. No one answered. Pressing his ear against the wood, he heard no evidence of noise or movement inside the apartment. Knowing he’d be back later, he dialed Nate as he left the building.
“Feels like we’ve got another one.” He told him.
“It definitely does. Wait until you see her DMV photo; she’s a dead ringer for the first victim in London, no pun intended.” Nate’s voice was grim. “Sounds like the neighbor got a decent look at him. Any luck with the occupants on the first floor?”
“They’re not at home; I’ll come back later. I’m not sure how reliable the girl’s description is, she was pretty stoned when I talked to her, but at least it’s something.” Reaching his car, Dylan paused. “Are you working on a warrant for her apartment? Should I hang here?”
“Yes, it should be ready in a few. Working with the city government certainly expedites things. I’m on my way there now, so just sit tight.”
“Will do. Do we have choppers in the air?”
“Two, though the miles of coastline presents a challenge. Would be nice to have a clue to help narrow down the location.”
“Tell them to look for circling buzzards. I don’t expect we’ll find Sonja alive.” Dylan kicked the tire on his car. It felt good to let off a little frustration.
“I don’t expect so, either. Maybe we’ll find something in her apartment. I’m almost there.” Nate disconnected.
Dylan texted Jerry, asking her to call when she was free. His phone rang almost immediately.
“What did you find?” she asked in greeting.
“The girl living on the second floor saw Sonja get into a red Italian sports car yesterday afternoon. She gave us a description, but I’m not sure how accurate it is, she was pretty high when we spoke.”
“What’s the description?”
“Tall, longish black hair, mustache, reminded her of Rock Hudson.”
“The actor?”
“You know another Rock Hudson?”
“Smartass. Ethan didn’t say anything about a mustache; that’s new. It could be fake, or