by Karen Rose
‘So we’re back to finding Evan,’ he said. ‘If we find the mother, she might be able to point us to the son, even if it’s only through a call she makes to warn him after we confront her. Evan could have changed his name, but his mother will probably know where he is.’ Mine does. Unfortunately. ‘I say we make finding Yvette a priority.’
‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘How many can there be?’
‘Whittling by birth year . . .’ He frowned at his screen. ‘Ileanna would have been thirty-eight, so Yvette could be anywhere from fifty-five to seventy-five. Still over five hundred nationwide. We need the mom’s birth date and social. I’ll get Records to run the check.’
Stevie rubbed the back of her neck. ‘He’s had Ryan Agar for nearly a day.’
‘I’m betting Ryan’s dead by now,’ JD said.
Stevie sighed. ‘I should feel . . . sorrier. But the dumb fuck should have listened to us, told us what was going on and let us protect him. His mother had her heart cut out, for God’s sake. He should have told us. He’d be safe.’
‘I agree, but he didn’t. I’m thinking this could let us be proactive for a change. This guy’s tracking Lucy, so he knows she’s back in the city. If we assume Ryan’s dead, we have to assume his killer will leave him where Lucy can find him.’
Stevie sat up straighter. ‘Makes sense to me. Keep talking.’
‘He’s already used her apartment and her club. He’s left hearts in her car at work and her best friend’s home. So where next?’
‘Thorne’s place?’
‘Maybe. She stayed with Mulhauser last night. Maybe his place. We really need to know more about her schedule. Restaurants, shops. Wherever she frequents.’
‘Wherever she feels safe,’ Stevie said quietly.
Safe. A thought hit him and made him angry. ‘Depending on how much he knows about her background, I have an idea of where that might be.’ He checked his watch. ‘Hyatt wanted status by eleven, but I think we need to call him now.’
Tuesday, May 4, 8.45 P.M.
Lucy put her duffle on her desk, then found her wallet and locked it in a drawer, the first time she’d done so in a long time. He’s tracking me. He knows where I am. Right now.
The phone on her desk rang shrilly, making her jump. Relax. You’re not alone. A detective named Skinner had been pressed into guard duty and stood outside her office door.
‘This is Dr Trask.’
‘It’s me,’ Gwyn said furiously, sounding like she’d been crying. ‘I tried your cell and you didn’t answer. I’ve been calling every number for you I know. Dammit, do not do this to me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Lucy sank into her chair, feeling awful. ‘The cops have my phone now.’
‘Why?’ Gwyn bit off the word.
‘Because . . .’ She hesitated and lowered her voice. ‘Because they’re checking it for a tracking device. This guy slipped one in my purse, Gwyn.’
‘Oh my God. Lucy, you need to go to a safe house. Why isn’t that Fitzpatrick putting you somewhere safe?’
‘I’ve got a bodyguard. And later JD will be with me. I’m safe. Just . . . scared.’
Gwyn shuddered out a breath. ‘This is a nightmare, Lucy.’
‘I know. Believe me, I know.’
‘Why are you there, at the morgue?’
‘The family of a deceased came in from out of town.’ The PI’s parents. ‘They’re here to ID the body.’
‘Let somebody else do it,’ Gwyn said tightly.
Lucy wished she could. ‘There is no one else for this one. I can’t say more.’
‘He’s killed someone else,’ Gwyn said dully. ‘Like Kevin.’
‘Yes,’ Lucy whispered.
‘Lucy.’ Ruby stuck her head into Lucy’s office. ‘Oh, sorry.’
‘It’s okay, Ruby, I’m almost done. I gotta go, Gwyn.’
‘You call me,’ Gwyn said. ‘When you get home. Promise me.’
‘I promise.’ Lucy hung up, turned to Ruby. ‘The family’s here?’
‘Yes. They insisted on talking to the ME that did the autopsy, but Mulhauser’s asleep. I was tempted to go to his house and wake him up, but I’m on duty by myself tonight.’
‘Let him rest. I’m here and I’ve read the report. Why are you on duty by yourself?’
‘Alan quit.’
Lucy gaped. ‘He did what?’
‘He up and quit. Called in an hour before his shift. Said he didn’t want to mess with dead people anymore. Personally, I think his little weenie thrills of watching you when you thought he didn’t know about your bad-ass leather-dress club went fizzle when everyone found out. Putting up with the dead wasn’t worth it anymore.’
‘You could be right,’ Lucy said, both relieved and creeped out. ‘Where are the parents?’
‘In the waiting room.’
‘Make sure there’s double sheeting over the torso.’ Where the victim had been gutted. ‘Make sure it extends up to cover her throat, then put another sheet over that.’
‘Already done,’ Ruby said. ‘She’s the best I can make her.’
‘Good. The report said she has a tattoo on her left ankle. Show that first, then wait for my signal. We may be able to avoid showing them her face.’
‘I doubt,’ Ruby said glumly. ‘They always gotta see the face.’
It was closure, Lucy knew. But incredibly painful for the families. And for me and Ruby. ‘Then wheel the deceased into the viewing room. I’ll go talk to the parents.’
‘Thanks, Luce. Look, there were two other doctors on call before you, so I’m sorry to drag you in here. But you have all the facts in this case.’
‘I was nearby, so it’s okay.’ She turned to Detective Skinner, who’d been waiting in the hall. He appeared to be bracing himself. ‘You okay?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve done them before. Identifications, that is. Never liked them.’
‘Me either,’ she said grimly, then made her way to the front entrance where four people waited. An older man paced, agitated, and an older woman sat, pale and numb with shock. Next to the woman sat a man, tall, dark, about forty years old. A few seats down sat a young woman who looked more afraid than grief-stricken.
The receptionist had gone home for the day, so the security guard sat behind the receiving desk. ‘Dr Trask, these are the parents of Nicki Fields, Mr and Mrs Fields.’
The pacing man abruptly stopped, turning to glare at her, a reaction to which she was accustomed. The woman looked up, dazed, her eyes filled with pain.
‘Mr and Mrs Fields?’ Lucy said softly. ‘I’m Dr Trask. Please come with me.’
Mrs Fields stood unsteadily and the dark-haired man rose to hold her arm. ‘Can he come with us?’ Mrs Fields asked.
‘Of course.’ It was Lucy’s experience that families who had support were better able to endure the often excruciating identification process. She paused at the desk and scrawled Fitzpatrick’s number on a pad. ‘Can you call Detective Fitzpatrick?’ she asked the guard. ‘Tell him we’re ready for him and Detective Mazzetti as soon as they can get here.’
She turned to the man and the young woman. ‘You are?’
The man spoke. ‘I’m Clay Maynard. I’m a friend of the family. This is my assistant. Can she stay here?’
‘Of course.’
‘Is that the detective on the case?’ Maynard pointed to Skinner.
‘No, sir. This is Detective Skinner. He’s doing some training tonight,’ she said. She led them to the family side of the viewing room where a curtain was pulled across a large window. Skinner stood near the door while she stood with the parents and Maynard at the window.
‘I’m very sorry we have to ask you to do this,’ Lucy began and Mrs Fields began to cry. Normally Lucy was uncomfortable with the families, rarely touching them because her hands were always so cold. But the touch of JD’s hands had given her immense comfort over the last few days. And this mother had lost her child. Lucy couldn’t help but think of her own mother.
Her mo
ther had been the coroner. She would have done the comforting. Lucy wondered who’d comforted her mother when Buck died. As she took Mrs Field’s hand in hers, Lucy wondered why she’d never wondered it before. ‘Your daughter won’t look like herself. I’m so sorry. Are there any special scars or marks you can remember?’
‘She had a tattoo,’ Mr Fields ground out. ‘On her ankle. Left ankle. A rose.’
‘All right.’ Still holding Mrs Field’s hand, she tapped the intercom button. ‘We’re ready, Miss Gomez.’ Then she pushed the button to open the curtain. Mrs. Fields was holding so tightly to her hand, it was a wonder her bones didn’t crumble.
At the first sight of her daughter on the table, Mrs Fields began to weep. When Ruby showed them her ankle tattoo, Mr Fields sucked in a pained breath.
‘Yes. That’s her tattoo.’ He clenched his jaw. ‘Show me her face.’
Lucy met Ruby’s eyes through the glass and nodded. Ruby pulled the top sheet back. Mrs Fields dropped Lucy’s hand and turned into her husband’s arms, her sobs filling the room.
Lucy pressed the intercom button. ‘That’s all. Thank you.’ She closed the curtain.
Maynard lifted devastated eyes to meet hers. ‘Is it possible for them to speak with the detectives tomorrow? I don’t think they can do it now.’
‘Of course.’ She led them to the front and gave Mr Fields her card. ‘We should be releasing your daughter’s body soon. We’ll need to know your wishes. If you’re working with a local mortuary, please give them my name. And please call me if you have any questions later.’
Mr Fields nodded unsteadily. His face was very gray. ‘Thank you.’
She put her hand on his sleeve. ‘Do you need a doctor, Mr Fields?’
‘I’m fine.’ Holding his wife, he left, followed by Maynard and his assistant.
Lucy knew the Fields weren’t fine. She knew it would be a very long time before they’d be fine again. Any of us. Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to her office.
Tuesday, May 4, 9.40 P.M.
It was a twofer he hadn’t anticipated, but one he’d thoroughly enjoy – the Ryan/Sonny throwdown. Once the Satisfaction was far enough out on the Bay so their screams would go unheard, he dragged Ryan up from the hold to the deck and dumped him next to Sonny, who had one hell of a headache. He imagined Ryan wasn’t feeling much better. The big cowboy apparently got seasick. Being left on the boat all day had been akin to torture. Or so Ryan thought. He’d soon find out what torture really felt like, just like his mama had.
Sonny’s eyes narrowed when he saw Ryan. ‘You. I should have known.’
It took Ryan a few seconds longer to recognize Sonny, but when he did, he stared at the patch on Sonny’s sleeve in disbelief. ‘You’re a sheriff?’
Sonny ignored him. ‘You lily-livered coward. Why the fuck would you squeal now?’
‘I didn’t. I didn’t say a word. He already knew. Whoever the hell he is.’
Both men looked up at him with hate. How much was for him versus each other was hard to say, although he suspected he scored the most. If he didn’t, he soon would.
‘I’m Ileanna’s brother,’ he said mildly. ‘You do remember Ileanna, don’t you?’
Both men went silent. Sonny looked scared. Ryan looked . . . guilty.
‘Don’t you?’ he repeated, more threateningly.
Ryan closed his eyes. ‘The detectives said my mother suffered. You did that.’
‘I did. I hadn’t actually planned to, but I learned something that changed my mind.’
‘Which was?’ Sonny demanded.
Arrogant prick. ‘She made a deal with Russ Bennett,’ Evan said.
Ryan opened his eyes. ‘What kind of deal?’
‘She traded secrecy for a nip/tuck and a boob job. Put it all in a letter that when she died would be mailed to the DA. I’m guessing the letter will arrive within a day or two.’
Sonny shook his head in disgust. ‘Bitch.’
Ryan said nothing, but it appeared he agreed with Sonny on that one.
‘How did you get the letter?’ Sonny asked.
‘I didn’t,’ Evan said. ‘Not her letter anyway.’
Ryan struggled to sit up, then gave up. ‘Who told?’ he asked simply.
‘Malcolm. He was dying and sent an anonymous letter to my mother, begging her forgiveness.’
‘Brave of him,’ Ryan murmured. ‘Sending it unsigned.’
‘Considering you wanted your mother to tell the cops for you, you shouldn’t talk.’
Sonny flashed Ryan a glare. ‘You told your mother. You idiot.’
‘You’re right,’ Ryan said quietly, then looked up, meeting his eyes. ‘And so are you. I wanted to tell back then, but I was scared. I ran away. I am a coward.’
‘You’re a coward now,’ Sonny said in furious frustration, ‘telling him this just so he won’t gut you like he did your bitch mother. I got news for you. He’s gonna do it anyway.’
Ryan paled, looking like he was going to throw up.
Evan squatted next to Sonny. ‘That was downright insensitive.’
Sonny spat at him, his spittle falling a few inches short. ‘You can go fuck yourself.’
He smiled and had the satisfaction of seeing Sonny cringe. ‘I’m really going to enjoy you. I thought Bennett was fun, but you . . . I have to say, the badge puts you right up there with Trask and his daughter.’ He turned to Ryan. ‘Tell me what happened that night. I’m making a scrapbook of your varying accounts.’
‘All right,’ Ryan said calmly. As if it really didn’t matter.
‘Shut. Up,’ Sonny gritted.
‘No,’ Ryan said. ‘I know how Malcolm felt. I need to say it. Just once so that it matters. Besides, if my mother wrote a letter – and I have no doubt that she did – it’ll surface. If Little Brother here doesn’t kill you, everyone will know. Even if you don’t go to jail, your career will be ruined. Can I at least sit up?’
‘No,’ Evan said. ‘Just talk. I want to know what you did and what Buck Trask did.’
‘All right. It was prom and Buck had had a big fight with his girl. He’d caught her cheating and he was pissed, so he dumped her and invited the one girl that would humiliate his old girlfriend the most. I’m sorry to say it, but that was Ileanna. She had a reputation for . . . putting out. I don’t know if it was earned or not. It didn’t matter then and it doesn’t matter now. She didn’t deserve any of what happened to her.’
Evan was seething now, just hearing the words. ‘What happened?’
‘Buck took her to the dance,’ Ryan continued, ‘but he was determined to make his old girlfriend feel like shit. After the dance he and Ileanna snuck under the bleachers on the football field. We knew they were going. The others thought it would be fun to watch. I wasn’t going to go. I don’t know why I did. I’ve regretted it my whole life. By the time I got there, the others were there and Buck was standing off to the side. Another guy was beating up your sister. He’d already raped her once, but he did it again.’
‘Ricky Joyner?’ Evan asked, his stomach queasy.
‘Yes. Buck had told us that the girl he was taking to the prom dumped some other guy for him. That would have been Ricky. He and Buck had had a run-in, months before, during the season. Ricky was mad. And high on crack. I think he must’ve seen Buck and Ileanna either doing it or ready to and just . . . exploded. Buck had this dazed look, like he couldn’t believe it.’
‘Why did you let it happen?’ Evan asked. The question he’d always wanted to ask.
‘I don’t know. I wish to God I’d stopped it, but I didn’t know how. So many times now when I make a call on my cell, I wonder if it would have been different back then if we’d had cell phones. But I doubt it. We probably would have taken pictures,’ he said bitterly. ‘It was a mob mentality. Bennett, Edwards and Cannon egged Joyner on.’
‘Did Sonny?’ he asked.
Sonny struggled against his bonds. ‘No,’ he said desperately. ‘I didn’t.’
Ryan
shrugged one shoulder, which said it all. ‘When Ricky staggered away, we got scared. Buck said we should make it look like a robbery. He took her purse and the necklace. He said he knew how to get rid of them, since his dad was sheriff. It sounded like a plan. We hadn’t actually done anything. Or so we told ourselves. We ran.’
‘And left her there to die,’ Evan said with contempt.
‘Yes,’ Ryan said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Your “sorry” means nothing now.’
‘I know. The next day we heard Ricky had shot himself in the head. We figured he’d sobered up, realized what he’d done and couldn’t live with it. The necklace never showed up.’
‘What about the bracelet?’ he asked and Ryan looked genuinely confused.
‘I don’t know about a bracelet. I saw a necklace. That’s it.’
He turned to Sonny. ‘You know about the bracelet?’
‘No,’ Sonny said, but he was lying. I can tell.
He delivered a vicious kick to the same place he’d kicked Sonny before. ‘Tell me.’ Sonny was silent, so Evan brought out his bat and watched Sonny’s eyes flicker in fear. ‘Tell me.’
‘Yes, I saw it,’ Sonny ground out. ‘It was in her purse. Your sister’s purse. But Lucy Trask took it. I saw her wearing it, back then and again today.’
As did I. ‘And the necklace?’
‘I don’t know.’
He brought the bat down hard on Sonny’s hip, hearing the crunch of bone followed by Sonny’s scream of pain. ‘Not a good answer, Sheriff.’
‘I don’t know,’ Sonny repeated harder, sobbing. ‘Buck was supposed to get rid of the stuff, but we saw Lucy wearing the bracelet the next summer and we panicked. We didn’t want anyone tracing the stuff back to us.’
‘So?’
‘I got the bracelet back from her, but I couldn’t find the necklace. Then she stole the bracelet back and wouldn’t tell me where it was. I wanted the necklace, so I put some of my mother’s things in her room and said Lucy stole them. I thought I’d get her in trouble with her dad, make her so scared that she’d tell me where she’d hidden them so I wouldn’t plant more things and get her sent to juvie.’
