Crypto Murders: Encrusted

Carver took it upon himself to be a “gentleman.” He dressed in a tuxedo and did not bring out the other dead girls. He looked at the living women and allowed them to pick whatever dress they wanted. He led them up stairs again where there was a ballroom with a robot DJ.

The dresses were worth at least ten thousand dollars. Resplendent in oranges and turquoise and purple and red, Meredith and Bao looked at each other.

“Thank you,” they said without expressiveness.

“Don’t be so glum,” Carver went over to them and brought their frowns upside down now. They returned to their scowls.

“I’m going to allow you ladies to undress and we’ll be on our way to the dance floor! Whoo!”

Bao turned to Meredith once Carver left.

“We should just play with his mind.”

“You don’t know. You haven’t seen the bodies.”

“The what?”

“He's killed before.”

“Where are they?”

Bao shrugged.“This is a sick prick. Whatever feelings you may have for him, get rid of them. Don’t take in any of his nonsense. Consider only the fact that he’s a homicidal maniac that could off us both at any moment.”

Meredith shook her head. “I mean at first, I was a bit leery of the whole idea obviously. But I’ve become accustomed to the food and these dresses are—”

“Stop it! He’s planning to kill us! There’s no getting around that.”

“Jesus. We should start plotting,” Meredith whispered just in case he bugged the room.

“He wouldn’t mind being called a psycho but any plan or to bring up a plot brought against him would mean punishment and a slow, agonizing death.”

“Alright so we just dress up and dance around with him?”

“That’s the idea.”

“It’ll still get us killed.”

Bao whispered, “Let’s just slow the march towards death.”

Kim was sober and didn’t have a headache. Her mind was even and her body responded. She made herself an egg, guacamole, and tomato on toast. The papers that remained on her kitchen island spread out like fingers.

All of the practice she had in law enforcement and the marijuana seemed to coalesce into one. Surprisingly, the two did not clash. In fact, they provided her a window into considering the most outlandish ideas. A yearning for them was most essential to her own way of thinking.

“Good morning Detective Pothead,” Darby said.

“Ha ha. I’ve got something. I’ve been able to draw something close to conclusions.”

“The weed is the answer apparently,” he said.

“Lay off the marijuana jokes,” she admonished.

“Did you say ‘smoke?’ Ha ha, I’ve got it. You’re expressing your life I know, I know. I’ll quit.”

“With the power to keep going with this investigation essentially pro bono I make it possible for you to make your wisecracks. What are you doing while I live off the proceeds from my book while these young women are being taken?”

Darby was struck dumb. He thought wrong about Kim again with her platinum and diamond encrusted mind.

“I—I didn’t…”

“Forget it. We’ve got this case to handle and champion. Lives are on the line as we speak. If we are to be the benefittors of this situation, it is important to remember that we’re on a timeline.”

“Yes, of course,” Darby said with confidence.

“That’s what I like to hear. Once you realize that the monster out there can and will be outsmarted, the closer we will be to nabbing him…or her…or them,” she remarked.

“Whoever it is, I’m glad you’re riding with us.”

“Don’t get all mushy with me. We have to stay focused.”

“Says the weedhead….”

“Darby, goddamnit!”