“Not yet.”
“When, then?”
“When I have something tangible to bring to the table. Hopefully, Raven.” I pulled out her number from a pocket. “I’m going to call her right now.”
But all I got was her voice mail. I left a message, asking her to call me. Rather, I asked her to call Silke, but I left my number.
Silke looked as disappointed as I felt.
“At least Raven gave me her real number,” I said. “I can work with that. But until I get her to agree to tell what she saw, what am I supposed to say—that there’s been another dead girl who then disappeared but again I have no proof?”
I see dead people….
Maybe this time the psych evaluation would be done in a rubber room.
Silke didn’t say anything until I was climbing into my pajamas. “Hey, those are some bruises.”
I glanced down at the back of my thigh and knew this was just the start of the pretty discolored pattern that would settle there. Icing it would help keep down the swelling and bruising, so I headed for the kitchen with Silke following.
Silke was right behind me. “Shell, I want you to stop.”
“No, you don’t,” I countered, grabbing a plastic bag and opening the freezer door.
“I do. You can’t keep doing this alone. It’s my fault, and I’m admitting it. Take this to Mom, let her know what’s going on. She’ll know what to do.”
“Mom? Not hardly. You just want me to be safe. Believe me, Silke, I’m on my guard.”
“That’s not good enough, Shell. I didn’t know you would go this far. I just wanted you to be the one to make the report on Thora, because I thought it might help you clear your name. I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger. Either you talk to Mom or—”
“What?” I interrupted. “You’re going to tell on me? Like you said to me, we’re not kids anymore.”
Silke didn’t continue the argument. Instead, she settled into a quiet mode I didn’t like. I filled the bag with ice and secured it.
“Look, Silke, I’ve got to get some sleep. I have a training class to teach first thing in the morning. Don’t go, though. I’d rather you bunked in here for the night.”
I didn’t want my twin running around taking chances any more than she did me. At least I was experienced in protecting myself. On the streets, anyway.
But when it came to men…
I couldn’t believe I was attracted to a man with an agenda. Was Jake DeAtley on some kind of citizen-vigilante quest? Was he a media type looking for a story? Or was he official, another cop?
Now I would have to figure out how to take advantage of the connection with Jake. Whatever he knew, I wanted it. The problem was, how would I get him to give it to me?
The creature of the night could sense the thump-thump of her heartbeat as she moved along the street. She wasn’t really necessary—no reason to hunt for several days, at least—but she was easy pickings.
Besides, she smelled so good—not just her blood, but her heightened emotions as she threw a glance behind her as if she thought someone might be following.
You’re looking in the wrong direction.
But then, they usually did.
The fear radiating from her was an aphrodisiac, tempting and promising an ecstasy that proved as potent as a drug.
She scooted along, her short hair ruffling around her face like little wings. Too bad she didn’t have any. Then maybe she could fly away.
Thump-thump…thump-thump…thump-thump…
The sound of her racing heart was too tempting to ignore.
Her instincts warned her, but there was nothing she could do to protect herself. So she ran.
That’s it. Faster, faster.
The blood lust surged with the chase.
Too quickly the chase was over…and the little bird screeched for the last time.
Chapter 8
“Commander Aniceto asked me to give this to you,” one of the rookies in my second class of the morning said.
“Thanks.”
I checked my watch. Three minutes to class. Enough time to read the note that wasn’t from my commander but from my mother.
Detective Shelley Caldwell:
Report to me at the district office after your last class of the day.
District Commander Rena Caldwell
Considering the way she was pulling me in—an order—my antennae went up. What was going on? I stuffed the missive in my shorts pocket and tried not to worry.
Something was up.
I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation after what I’d dealt with the day before. At least I’d had the sense to sleep with an ice pack all night—that and some ibuprofen had done wonders for my physical well-being. My nerves were on edge, though. I’d tried Raven’s number a couple more times. She hadn’t answered.
Not good.
I got through the class without thinking about why Mom wanted to see me, but by the time I got to the lunchroom, my brain was circling.
“Hey, baby, late night?”
“Really late,” I said, sitting across from Al.
I was fully aware that I looked as if I’d been through the mill. I’d awakened too late for a decent breakfast, so I’d picked up a coffee and croissant on the way in to work. The smell of the gloppy, stewy stuff on my plate wafted to my nose, and my stomach growled in appreciation.
“You look like hell. Can’t be because of a man. When you gonna find you a real one?”
Swallowing a mouthful of stew, I got a brief flash of Jake. “I already found one. You.”
“Yeah, but Rosalee would kill me if I so much as looked at another woman.”
“See—all the good ones are taken.”
Joking with Al put me in a better mood, and I began to wolf down my lunch. We ate in companionable silence for a moment before I said, “My mother sent me an order to appear in her office when I leave the academy this afternoon. Why couldn’t she just call me like a daughter and say she wanted to talk?”
“Why do you think?”
“Because she likes to give orders.”
“Maybe.”
“Hey, you’re not saying it’s my fault?”
“It takes two to tango…and two to fight.”
Rather than answering, I practically inhaled the rest of my lunch. But for the rest of the afternoon, I couldn’t help thinking about the intimation that I might be partly responsible for the uneasy relations between Mom and me.
Fearing that might be true, I decided I would do my best to assuage whatever gripe she had this time. I would be the model daughter.
That vow didn’t last very long.
The moment I stepped into her office—a cold regulation CPD space warmed by a few personal touches like an area rug and a couple of framed prints on the walls—she gave me a look that could freeze a runner in her tracks. I pushed through the negative and gave her what passed for a smile.
“Reporting as ordered.”
No answering smile softened her expression. “Please sit, Shelley.”
Shelley. She called me by name rather than by title, so this was a mother-daughter thing, after all. I sat and wisely kept my mouth shut. Let her take the initiative.
But when she leaned forward, elbows on her neatly organized desk, and asked, “Are you out of your mind?” all that tension I’d released earlier came flooding back. “I always gave you credit for being smarter than most of the population.”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t say anything.
Mom went on. “But what you’re doing…I just don’t understand it. What were you thinking, putting yourself at risk?”
My mouth dropped open. She couldn’t possibly know.
But I realized she could know, did know, when she said, “It’s against CPD policy to act alone without calling for backup.”
“Silke told you?”
“Don’t sound so horrified. I’m the one who has a right to be horrified. Pretending to be Silke, going undercover to seek ou
t a potential murderer—”
“Do you know about the connection to LaTonya Sanford, too?” When Mom didn’t even blink, I shook my head. “Silke’s been a regular Chatty Cathy.”
“Your sister is worried about you, Shelley. She says she’s sorry she involved you. She wanted you to make an official report or at least to come to me yourself, but apparently you wouldn’t listen to her.”
I didn’t care that Silke had tried to stop me and then to warn me. I hadn’t believed she would actually go behind my back to let Mom know what I was up to.
“I didn’t have anything to come to you with. Not anything you would believe any more than you did the last time.”
“I did believe you, Shelley. I just couldn’t do anything to change what happened.”
“They said I was crazy! You didn’t stand up for me.” And, currently, that was the crux of the problem between us.
“How would that have looked? I respect procedure. And in the end, the system worked the way it should. You were okayed for duty.”
“No thanks to you. And I didn’t get reinstated as a detective. The powers that be don’t trust me on the streets with a black mark on my record. It’s nice that you respect procedure. I only wish you would respect me.”
“Of course I respect you.”
“I asked you directly about cult activity at lunch.” This wasn’t me the daughter talking, but me the cop. “You told me nothing, and there’s no department regulation saying you can’t discuss a crime being investigated with another officer. That was your choice. I figured whatever information you were getting from Commander Aniceto was related to what happened to Silke’s friend Thora. Maybe he saw this kind of thing on his watch when he was heading up that gang unit. Will you please tell me now?”
Mom sighed and her shoulders lost their sharpness as she sagged back against her chair. “No, it wasn’t exactly the same,” she said, switching from Mom to cop. “I went to him the other day because we have a homeless man a couple of quarts low stashed in the morgue.”
I blinked at her, trying to take in the implication. “How much blood loss?”
“Enough to do the job.”
“And you still have the body?”
“We have two, actually,” Mom said, watching me closely, as if for my reaction. “Late last night three jocks partying a couple of blocks from Heart of Darkness were on the way to their car when they found a young woman unconscious. Unfortunately, she died before the paramedics got there. They couldn’t revive her because of the severe blood loss. One of the young men said he thought he saw her attacker slinking away in the shadows. He took chase, but unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough to get a good look at the person.”
“What does the victim look like?”
“Early twenties, short spiked dark hair, Goth makeup and clothing, three earrings in her eyebrow, tattoo of a black bird on her upper arm.”
The description took away my breath, and I choked out, “Raven!”
“You know her?”
“She’s the one who told Silke about Thora’s body.”
I had saved Raven from sexual assault only to have her fall to a much worse fate. My stomach knotted and my chest felt hollow, and though cops weren’t supposed to cry, I wanted to. This victim wasn’t some unknown person to me. I should have broken cover and had Chung arrested. Then Raven would have been questioned, maybe escorted home in a patrol car. She wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if Chung was the murderer, he would have been locked up.
“Can you tell me more about this Raven?”
Stunned, I shook my head. “I didn’t even know her real name.” I hadn’t asked her. “Raven was her Goth name. Maybe Silke…”
“I’ll talk to her about it. You seem very upset.”
“Of course I’m upset! I agreed to go undercover to stop anything like this from happening again!”
Mom nodded, and I would swear her voice grew gentler when she said, “Then you’re not going to like the rest. The girl’s body has already been examined and there’s evidence of rape.”
“Semen?” I asked, automatically thinking if Chung had gotten his hands on her again, we could run his DNA.
“No semen. But bruising and tearing.”
I took a big breath and tried to let it go. It felt as if it took forever to get rid of the extra air, and even when I did, I couldn’t breathe normally.
“There’s even more,” I said, and told Mom about the scenario on the stairwell that I’d interrupted.
To her credit, Mom listened without judgment. And if she already knew, if Silke had already told her about my fight with the security guard, she didn’t say so.
She merely said, “So this Hung Chung could be the one.”
“He’s definitely a suspect.”
And if I found out he had raped and killed Raven…
I realized my hands were balled into fists so tight my fingers began to hurt. I wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands. Taking several more deep breaths, I got my anger under control.
“So the medical examiner has already done his report. What about the missing blood?” I wondered if Chung could be part of Mowry’s vampire cult. “How was it taken?”
“Through a slash on the inside of the arm.”
“Like LaTonya Sanford and Thora Nelson.”
“But not like the man—his blood was drained through holes in his neck. As to this Raven, the M.E. thinks the blood was being removed during the sex act.”
The visual I got on that one made me wish I could have done something more. I could hardly believe the girl I’d saved last night was dead this morning. I should have tried harder to get her to press charges—maybe then she would still be alive. “How has the press not gotten hold of this?”
“They missed the John Doe. Or maybe they simply weren’t interested in him. And we’re keeping a low profile now. No need for a public panic.”
“Still, I’m surprised some reporter didn’t pick it up on a scanner.”
“It didn’t go out over the air. The beat cops were informed that if they found another one, they were to call for backup in code.”
The pieces of the puzzle were mounting, but they didn’t exactly fit together perfectly.
LaTonya Sanford, Thora Nelson, Raven and the homeless John Doe…someone really was taking their blood, if not in the same way. The women had been bled from wounds in their arms, the man from puncture holes in his neck.
So now Mom believed me.
Another person I knew believed a bloodsucker was hanging around the bar.
Jake DeAtley.
Again, I wondered if his interest in the subject was official. “You don’t by any chance already have an undercover officer working Heart of Darkness?”
Mom’s surprise seemed genuine. “No. And as far as I know, neither does anyone else. Why?”
I told her about Jake DeAtley. “He admitted he was investigating but wouldn’t say why.”
“And you couldn’t get more out of him?”
“Maybe I could…if I get closer.”
Mom’s expression registered her understanding. “That’s not an option.”
“Right.”
Not an option procedure-wise, perhaps, but definitely an option I couldn’t help considering personally. Not that I would prostitute myself for a lead. But I could work Jake for more information.
“I need to check DeAtley out through the system for priors or arrests,” I said, telling her how I’d already run him and others linked to the bar on the Internet for information and coming up with nothing on any of them. I had to admit I was hoping Jake would come up clean, but something was going on with him. “I wonder if DeAtley could have some connection to one of the victims.”
“If he does, we’ll find that out, too.” Mom’s brow furrowed. “Shelley, the case went to Detective Norelli, and he’s working with Walker.”
“Great. Give the case to the very guy who laughed in my face in the first place. He’ll probab
ly bury the case so no one will evaluate him.”
“Not hardly. Not when we have two bodies in the morgue. I’ll get you transferred back to Area 4 immediately.”
That had been my goal, but the idea of having to work under Norelli didn’t sit well with me.
“I’m already undercover and I’m working this alone.”
“Not anymore you’re not. You’ll work the case as part of the team or you won’t work it at all.”
I knew she meant business. This wasn’t my mom anymore; this was a cop with a lot of clout, clout that she could use for me or against me.
“I’m not handing this investigation over to anyone.”
“That’s not your decision.”
“I can go on furlough,” I warned her.
“It won’t be approved.”
“Then I’ll get the blue flu.”
Blue flu being the operative phrase when cops thought to go on strike without actually going on strike, which they couldn’t do by law.
“Detective, be reasonable.”
“I am reasonable, Commander. I’m on the inside—they’re not. It’s my lead. I won’t have Norelli messing up this case. It’s my case. It has been since I laid eyes on LaTonya Sanford in that alley.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
Mom made the calls necessary to get me cleared and assigned back to Area 4. She filled in the Area 4 commander about my undercover activities and said she was certain that Detectives Norelli and Walker would bow to my greater knowledge of the case. I watched her work in awe.
After hanging up, she said, “It’s still their case technically, but you’re in charge of the undercover operation. You’ll run it the way you want.”
Reluctant partners. This wouldn’t make any of us happy, but it would have to do. Compromise. Mom admitted to having done it. I guess I could, too.
Her pulling strings put extra pressure on me. I had to get it right, to prove to my mother that her faith in me wasn’t wasted. I had to get justice for LaTonya and Thora and Raven, and yes, the homeless guy, too.
I would make the best of working with detectives who gave me no respect.
I would succeed in putting the murderer away despite them.
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