“These women need justice,” Harri said. “They need their day in court. Start the healing process from the unimaginable horror they’ve been living through.” Harri licked her lips, wishing she’d gotten a coffee after all.
“Harri,” Tom said. “We could have a serial killer embedded in this organization. I’m diving further into the twelve girls’ deaths. I’ll talk to Grimley to see what else she’s got. Were the girls being choked as they overdosed? I didn’t see that kind of detail in the files. In any case, this pattern should have been discovered way before this.”
“That would keep this case with us and RHD?”
“If it’s a serial that falls under RHD jurisdiction.”
“I’ll keep pulling at the threads Roxanne Miles gave me. I have the name of the woman who groomed her. Ladner said he’d give me the names in forty-eight hours. We also have the names those casting directors gave us.”
“Might not need him.”
“I’ll see how far I get with the time we have. I’ll keep moving forward without his undisclosed info,” Harri said.
“Your boyfriend was a profiler for the FBI at one time?”
“Yes, how did you know about Jake and me?”
“That asshole Special Agent from Oregon spilled the beans on that one. You two really pissed him off.”
“Good,” Harri said. “He was an ass.”
“Sure sounded like it,” Tom said.
“Jake’s no longer an agent. He does consult work now.”
“Even better. We won’t have to go through official channels to get his take. Let me put some files together for him. Will you ask if he can look over our case?”
“Of course.”
“The little bell above the door chimed and a couple came in, staring at the list of drinks behind the barista.
“Ready to get that coffee to go now?” Tom asked.
“I think I’ve had enough caffeine for today,” Harri said and stood up to go. “I was so pissed at that journalist for withholding his info. Now, I can’t believe Byrne is proving his prediction right.”
“We won’t allow that to happen, will we?”
“No. Were you able to call any of the girls from the auditions,” Harri asked as she pulled open the door. Tom threw his coffee cup into the trash and followed her to the door.
“I haven’t started. The old files kept me busy. I’ll call Grimley again and see if she can squeeze me in today,” he said.
As they stepped outside, Tom made a point to scan the street up and down.
“What is it?”
“Have you felt like you’re being followed?” he asked.
Harri looked at him strangely. “Come again? My paranoia makes me always hyper-aware. I haven’t noticed anything lately.”
“Never mind,” he said. “Meeting with Byrne this morning started my day wrong. He usually stays away from me. I’m too senior for him to mess with. It doesn’t help that I feel like I’m being watched all the damn time.”
“When did this start?” Harri asked.
“When we were at the B&B with Sophie Lambert’s body. If we’ve stumbled across an organization as well-funded as this one could be, it wouldn’t surprise me to find out we’re being watched. It’s ballsy as all hell, though.”
“We aren’t invincible,” Harri said.
“That’s what worries me.” With that grim thought, he waved goodbye and crossed the street to head back to the office.
Harri would work from her cruiser, cold calling as many girls as she could. She hoped she’d be able to meet with some of them today. She was more convinced than ever that Addison James was still alive somewhere. Unless, she’d come across the serial Tom may have uncovered.
Not the time for that kind of thought, Harri said to herself. She didn’t want anything to derail her focus. Addison's time was running out.
“Hang in there Addison,” Harri said as she hurried back to the cruiser.
21
Day 3
Harri Harper startled awake with the chiming of her phone. Someone had just sent her an email. It was already four in the afternoon and she must have fallen asleep in the cruiser after her last phone call. She looked over to the lists of girls they’d received from the casting directors. Close to forty had been crossed out.
Harri swiped at the sweat on her brow. How could she have fallen asleep? Then she remembered being frustrated at getting nowhere and closing her eyes to take a break. She must have been asleep for close to a half hour.
None of them wanted to meet as they had barely any contact or no contact at all with Sophie. Harri had asked them all questions about exclusive Hollywood parties and friends coercing them to do things with older men, but none of the girls she’d spoken to so far had any idea of what she was talking about. They sounded genuinely surprised when she shifted to the new line of questioning.
On one hand, that was great news. On the other, she was frustrated, tired and her mouth felt like she had cotton stuffed in it from all the talking. Her phone buzzed again. The screen said Tom Bards.
She took the call.
“We have another girl missing,” he said without any preamble.
“Another missing girl?” Harri asked as she came fully awake.
“The missing girl’s roommate walked into Hollywood Division this morning. She said her roommate was a young actress and had gone in a sleek black car to a Hollywood party last night. The girls always text each other when they went out for the night for safety and Debi never did that. Janie, the roommate, could not contact her the entire night. When Janie saw her roommate’s bed empty this morning, she reported her missing.”
“Wait. This happened last night? It hasn’t been even been twenty-four hours yet?” Harri asked, confused, and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“I put out an alert to all divisions about young girls going missing and to contact me even if it hasn't been twenty-four hours. The intake officer didn’t take her statement due to policy. He took her phone number and called me instead.”
“Can I run with this? I’ve struck out on the girl’s I’ve called so far,” Harri asked.
“Go for it,” Tom said and recited the woman’s number.
“I'm on it. Good thinking, Tom,” she said.
“I wish I’d been wrong,” he said.
“Me too. I’ll call you when I’m done,” Harri said and hung up. She called the roommate immediately and arranged to meet her at her apartment within twenty minutes. It was a fast ride to Morton Avenue in Echo Park.
The apartment was a two-story fourplex far enough from Morton Avenue to avoid the noise. Parking was hard to find, though. Harri circled around the block three times before she finally pulled into a spot several houses away from the address.
The burning sun helped her wake up completely and by the time she knocked on the door, her mind was clear, and she was ready for the interview.
A young brunette opened the door, her face streaked with tears.
“I'm so glad you came,” she said in a rush. “I knew the police wouldn't take my report because she hadn't been gone twenty-four hours, but I know something's wrong. Debi would never do this. She’s responsible, especially for a seventeen-year-old.”
Harri put her hand on her shoulder and said “Slow down and let's go inside. You can tell me the whole story. What’s your name?”
“Jeanine Hunter. Call me Janie,” she said.
“Thank you, Janie.”
Janie nodded and motioned Harri inside. They moved to a white couch in the living room. The apartment was airy with hanging plants everywhere and bright light filtering through the open window.
“What is your roommate’s name?”
“Debi. Debra Mills,” Janie said.
“Did Debi mention anything about what kind of party this was?”
“She just said it was her first big Hollywood party.”
“Did you catch the license plate of the black car?” Harri asked.
“No, I didn
't. It was a town car,” Janie said, swiping at her face.
“Like a rideshare car?”
“No, like what you see the stars driving in instead of their limos. When they are out on the town,” she said.
“Did you see the person inside?”
Janie nodded. “An older woman. Maybe in her late thirties, or early forties.”
“Can you describe her?”
“She had a short dark bob, pretty. Debi had been excited because she’d met her at one of her auditions. The woman was some big star’s daughter and she invited Debi to some acting coach’s workshop. I'm not in the business. I'm a musician so I wasn’t paying much attention. Coaching is a scam. It all seems like a way to get money out of all the hopeful artists that come out here.”
“Did Debi ever tell you this woman’s name?’
“George? Georgie something,” she said.
Harri felt a buzzing in her chest. Georgie Shipwell would be the next person she would find and interview.
“Why are you so certain Debi is in trouble?” Harri asked gently.
“We have a pact,” Janie explained. “We’re both alone out here and we don't have any family. Whenever we go out at night, we text each other the address and who we’re going with in case something happens to us.” Janie gulped down air.
“Can I get you some water?” Harri asked.
Janie shook her head no. “I’ve lived with Debi for over a year and she’s never not texted me that information. Last night was the first time she hadn't and when I saw she never came home, I knew she was in trouble.”
“Do you have her phone number?”
Janie nodded and recited out her friend’s number. Harri called and it went straight to voicemail. Either her phone was dead or turned off. They wouldn’t be able to ping the phone if it was off.
“Would you mind if I went into Debi's room to see if I can find out who this Georgie woman is?”
“Please. Go,” Janie said. “Look anywhere. She didn’t know where the party was. When I asked, she told me this woman had said it would be a surprise. She’d let her know when she picked her up.”
“We need to track down this woman then,” Harri said. “It’s a good thing you witnessed Debi being picked up.”
“Please find Debi. She’s had such a difficult life and she was turning it around. Making it work. It's just not fair,” Janie said and began to sob.
Harri sat on the couch until Janie pulled herself back together again. “Can you show me Debi’s room now?”
Janie nodded and led Harri to Debi’s room. The tiny bedroom was very neat and clean with a twin-sized bed, desk, and a chair. Harri put on her evidence gloves.
Debbie’s computer was still on the desk. When Harri opened it, the screen went to a password.
“Do you know what her password is?”
“I don’t.”
“I’m going to take this with me so the IT department can go through it,” Harri said. She took out an evidence bag from her purse and slid the computer inside.”
Janie nodded. Harri took a closer look at the cork board on the wall behind the computer.
“Which one is Debi?” Harri asked, peering closer at pictures of young girls in various places in the Southwest.
“The redhead in the middle,” Janie said with a sniff.
Debi Mills was a gorgeous girl with copper red hair and sparkling blue eyes.
“I’m going to take this photo for her file,” Harri said and plucked the photo off the corkboard. “Is the woman in the town car here?”
Janie shook her head no. “She’d just met her last week.”
The cork board also contained pictures of large houses, various celebrities at red carpet events and an Oscar awards ceremony.
“That's her vision board.” Janie explained.
Harri nodded without saying a word. She looked under pieces of yellow sticky notes with dates and times and a phone number with manager written above it.
“Do you know what these times are?”
“She’s a waitress at a diner down the street. Those are her shift times. That’s her manager’s number,” Janie said.
Unfortunately, what Harri was looking for she wasn't finding. Then again that would be too easy. Harri had a first name at least, and a general description to go on. How many rich daughters of famous actors named Georgie could there be?
“Thank you for calling us in. I believe you when you say your friend is in trouble,” Harri said.
Janie nodded, seeming to have gone mute.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I am,” Janie finally said.
“If you hear anything from Debi, or anyone calling about Debi, or looking for her, please give me a call immediately.” She handed Janie a card with her phone number and email on it.
“I will,” Janie nodded. “Thank you for not making me wait forty-eight hours to report her missing.”
“Of course,” Harri said as she followed Janie back to the living room and to the front door.
“Take care of yourself and make sure to keep your doors locked,” Harri said. Janie nodded giving her a small smile.
“I'm sounding like a mom. Sorry. Keep yourself safe as I look for your friend.
She waved good-bye to Janie and hurried back to her cruiser. Her heart was beating hard. The circumstances of Debi’s encounter and subsequent disappearance sounded too similar to what Roxanne had told her. She needed to find the connection to Addison and Sophie's disappearances. The grooming portion wasn’t fitting in with what they’d found so far. Could Sophie have been groomed without her mother noticing? That was the big question.
She called Elle Lambert.
“Hello?” Elle asked in a tired voice.
“This is Detective Harper speaking.”
“Have you found who killed my girl?” Elle’s voice came out small and childlike. That didn’t sound good.
“We’re working on the case of. I wanted to ask you. Did Sophie have any new friends in her life?”
“Not that she mentioned,” Elle said.
“Did she receive any new acting lessons? Something that was too good to be true?”
“I got her all her lessons. I’m her…was her manager. I looked after my daughter and didn’t need any handouts.” A note of hysteria was creeping into Elle Lambert’s voice.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lambert. That’s all I wanted to ask. Take care of yourself.”
Harri heard Sophie Lambert’s mother sobbing as she hung up the phone. Her pain went straight into Harri’s heart. The same place that ached when she thought of her own sister.
Harri clutched her chest as she called Tom Bards.
“Tom, it's Harri,” she said into his voicemail. “You were right. Debi Mills was most likely taken by the same people who abused Roxanne Miles. I’m still looking for the connection between Addison and Sophie and this bigger case we’ve uncovered. Talked to Sophie’s mom. She didn’t seem to know about any grooming. Debi fits the victim profile. I have a name I’m running down. Georgie Shipwell, who picked her up in a town car on the night she disappeared.”
The phone beeped and cut off the call. She’d go back to the office and tell him in person. She didn’t have access to the DMV database, or she’d look up Georgie immediately.
22
Day 3 -Evening
As soon as Harri pulled out of her parking spot, a black Subaru SUV did as well, several cars back. As she drove towards the 101 freeway, she kept the car in her rearview mirror.
She took a left onto Morton Avenue.
The black SUV did as well.
She merged onto Echo Park Boulevard.
The black SUV did the same.
She was being followed and her shadow had no issue with her knowing it.
Her heart raced faster as she made a swift turn right onto Scott Avenue. She sped up on the small residential street and took the right onto Lake Shore.
The black SUV was attempting catch up but there was too much traffic
on Lake Shore. Harri floored at a yellow to take a left onto a small side street. The black SUV got stuck at the light.
Harri kept making lefts and rights on small streets until she hit Glendale Boulevard. She weaved in and out of traffic, putting as much distance between her and the SUV as she could.
They had some balls to tail an LAPD detective, she thought. Her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel hard. She would not let panic overtake her. That’s what they wanted her to be. Scared. Unnerved. She’d be damned if she’d give them that.
She called Tom again.
“You mentioned something about being followed?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“I am definitely being followed. Someone was waiting for me outside of Jeanine Hunter’s building. When I pulled out, a black SUV followed me. They were obvious about it, too. Either a total amateur or they wanted me to know they were there.”
Janie Hunter could be in danger. The thought flashed in Harri’s mind. “Call me back,” she said and hung up on Tom.
“Crap,” she said aloud and called dispatch. She gave them Janie’s address and asked for a car to drive by every two hours. Hopefully, the increased presence on her street would let anyone know she was on LAPD’s radar. Janie Hunter would be at least good for the night.
Harri drove around for another fifteen minutes in stop and go traffic making sure the black SUV didn’t turn up again. She didn’t want to lead them to her home. After she was sure the black SUV was nowhere to be seen, she turned onto Silver Lake Boulevard from Sunset and drove up the hill toward home.
The stress and anger drifted away the closer she came. Even though, her home had been broken into some months back by one of the Creek Killers, she worked hard to bring back the peace and joy her home gave her. She’d succeeded in making it her oasis.
Every cop needed a place to let go of the job and her home was that place. The higher her car climbed toward her sanctuary; the more worries drifted away. At least for the night.
That’s what she told herself, of course.
The nightmares were back. The ones about her sister and her family. But those were hers to vanquish and had nothing to do with the house. Out in the everyday world, she was a cop. An LAPD detective. In the middle of the night, she was the grieving sister of a murder victim. The personas were both her, different sides of a coin, but she made sure to keep them different sides.
The Broken Trail: A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller (Harriet Harper Thriller Book 3) Page 13
