The Trap

by Carol Ericson

  Galecki narrowed his eyes and ran a thumb down his mustache. “You wired or anything?”

  “This isn’t official business, Tony. I’m looking into something else. Nobody has to know about our meeting—not even the cops.” Jake circled his finger in the air. “Where’d you get the money to start this business?”

  Galecki’s lips stretched over his teeth in a grim smile. “A little money I had waiting for me on the outside.”

  “Drug money?” Jake’s pulse ticked slow and heavy in anticipation.

  “Hey, I’m not proud of it, man. My stupidity caused the death of my woman. I ain’t never getting over that.” Galecki lifted his shoulders, and Jake noticed the tattoo on his neck that had been refashioned into the word Baby.

  Jake knew that tattoo had once been AB for the Aryan Brotherhood. Most prisoners had to swear their allegiance to a gang inside if they wanted to survive, but Galecki seemed like he wanted to disavow all that now.

  Jake took a deep breath. “But?”

  “But they were offering. You know what I mean? Make the theft charges go away for the cops and get a cut of the money. My parents got the cash and they saved it for me, even though I told them to spend it on AJ.”

  “Who offered you the deal?”

  “The old cop. The one who came to tell me first about Lucinda’s murder. He didn’t know yet that I was working for the cartel and Lucinda’s death was a hit. I don’t think he’s the one who stole my money, though. It was the drug cops who done that.”

  Jake licked his lips, his throat dry. “Do you remember the name of the old cop who offered you the deal?”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember ’cuz he was good to Lucinda’s parents and AJ. He was all about AJ, wanted to make sure he didn’t go into the system, you know? He kept in touch with Lucinda’s parents and mine to check up on the baby. Good guy—except for the corruption. Never could figure out how a cop like that could cover for someone else’s theft—but then, you guys stick together, don’t you?”

  “What was his name, Tony? What was the name of this cop who told you to lie?”

  Tony shrugged. “Detective Roger Quinn.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kyra bustled into the task force war room and grabbed the back of her chair, shooting a glance over her shoulder at Jake’s desk. She blew out a breath and collapsed in front of her computer.

  She’d decided she had to confront Jake. If he were snooping around her house, she wanted an explanation. She’d cooled off some after talking to Rose yesterday. Maybe he’d had an inkling that Quinn had been murdered, didn’t want to worry her and headed over to the house to check out a clue.

  Anytime Jake had lied to her or kept the truth from her, it had usually been in her best interests. She could actually say the same about her lies—most of the lies she’d told Jake had been in her best interests, too.

  She’d gotten over that once Jake had proven to her time and again that he wanted to stick by her regardless of her mistakes and deceptions. Now she had to do the same for him. If he’d lied to her about going back to Quinn’s, it had probably been for a good reason—at least in his mind.

  She’d been ignoring his texts, giving herself a cooling off period.

  She’d texted Jake back this afternoon, and now he was ignoring her messages. She glanced at Billy on the phone. He’d probably know the whereabouts of his partner.

  When Billy ended his call, Kyra sauntered to his desk. “Hi, Billy. I just wanted to make sure you passed my info along to Ashley’s family.”

  “I did. Her brother’s in bad shape.” His lips twisted. “I can relate.”

  She took the chair next to his, which happened to be Jake’s, and leaned into his space. “Has your PI had any luck yet?”

  Billy’s younger sister had gone missing several years ago, and he’d recently hired a PI, Dina Ferrari, to help him find out what happened. The second copycat, Cyrus Fisher, had started his spree by murdering two African American women, which had triggered Billy, big-time.

  “Dina got a line on a guy the family didn’t even know was in Sabrina’s life at the time. His name never came up. Dina’s tracking him down now. I feel hopeful, but, man, talking to Ashley’s brother ripped me apart.”

  “I’m here anytime you want to talk.”

  “I appreciate that.” He pointed at Jake’s desk. “You know where he is?”

  “I was going to ask you. I haven’t heard from him since this morning. I was...busy, so I didn’t answer him. By the time I got around to responding, he’d gone radio silent.”

  “We had lunch, and then he took the car to look into something, didn’t tell me what.” Billy snapped his fingers. “Actually, you might be a bigger help to me than J-Mac in this. Some of Ashley’s AA group agreed to talk to me about the night she went missing. They’re a cagey bunch. Maybe they’ll be more forthcoming with a therapist there. You game?”

  “Where are you meeting them?”

  “At the AA meeting site—a church in Glendale. That’s where her brother found her car.”

  “I’ll come with you. I saw clients this morning and figured I’d do some work at the station this afternoon, but as none of Ashley’s friends or family has contacted me yet, I might as well go with you.”

  As they left the war room together, Captain Castillo grabbed Billy’s arm. “Where’s J-Mac?”

  “He’s the man in demand, but I don’t have a clue.” Billy jerked his thumb at Kyra. “Kyra and I are going to talk to Ashley’s AA group. Find out if they saw anything unusual that night or noticed a difference in her behavior.”

  “Good, good.” Castillo waved his hand in the air. He barreled into the war room anyway, as if he intended to stake out Jake’s desk.

  Billy shook his head as they made for the staircase. “That man needs to chill...or retire.”

  “He has seemed rattled lately.” Kyra knew Jake had his own suspicions about Captain Castillo, but he’d never been anything but helpful and nice to her—probably on Quinn’s orders.

  On the drive to the church, Billy asked her about the funeral plans for Quinn.

  Kyra glanced at Billy’s profile, his smooth, dark skin displaying not one crease of worry or consternation. Either Jake hadn’t told his partner about Dr. Ellis’s findings, or Jake had told him to keep the information on the down-low.

  Kyra fiddled with her phone in her lap, keeping her eyes downcast. “As far as I know, the autopsy isn’t done yet. At least, I haven’t been notified. Quinn’s attorney, Terrence Hicks, is going to do most of the arrangements with the department.”

  “I’m sure Terry will do it up right with the bagpipes and everything.” Billy clasped her hand briefly. “Going to be hard on you.”

  “Has been and will be.” She sniffed. “Everyone has been great, though, and Quinn himself made it easier on me. He’d been planning for this moment for quite a while.”

  “Most cops do.”

  They finished the drive on a lighter note with Kyra teasing Billy about his dating life. He was separated from his wife and had been going out with one of Kyra’s friends, a TV reporter, but both Billy and her friend had assured her their relationship was casual.

  As soon as Billy pulled up outside the church, their sober mood returned. Most likely, Ashley Russell had been snatched from this parking lot. The cops had no evidence indicating how the killer had taken her.

  The area around her car showed no signs of a struggle. Her car itself yielded no clues. But someone had lain in wait for a vulnerable woman, recovering, perhaps emotional, and had taken her away and murdered her.

  She exited Billy’s car and glanced up at the eaves of the church. “No cameras?”

  “Not a one.” He gestured toward the side of the building. “The meeting room is over here. Has its own entrance.”

  Kyra pulled on her jacket as she followed Billy around the co
rner. A door stood open and Billy poked his head inside the room.

  He called out, “Marcia?”

  Kyra heard a woman’s voice answering from the depths of the room. “That’s me. Are you Detective Crouch?”

  Billy waved to Kyra. “I am, ma’am. I brought a therapist with me. Kyra Chase works on our task force.”

  Kyra stepped through the door after Billy, catching a whiff of coffee and piety. She’d smelled a lot of piety during her stint with one of her foster families. Church every Sunday and hell to pay after at home if the foster mom didn’t think you were paying attention at the service or hadn’t sung loudly enough or hadn’t put your money in the plate. Those parents had been believers, all right—believers in spare the rod, spoil the child. So they’d been quite liberal with the rod, and Kyra had run away from that home so many times, the foster parents had come to believe even God Himself couldn’t save her.

  Marcia left off fussing over a table filled with cookies and that coffeepot to greet them. “What a wonderful idea to have a therapist working with the police. I think some of us will feel more comfortable with Kyra here.”

  “Thank you.” Kyra shook hands with Marcia, whose round cheeks bunched into a smile.

  “Have a seat.” Marcia’s blue eyes twinkled as she indicated the chairs already in a circle. “I promise, you don’t have to confess anything.”

  “Good, because we’re hoping to get some answers from you about Ashley’s last meeting here.” Billy folded himself into one of the metal chairs.

  Marcia remained standing. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Both Kyra and Billy declined, so Marcia took a seat next to Kyra. “I feel guilty about Ashley’s murder.”

  Kyra nodded. “That’s not uncommon. What do you think you did or didn’t do that put her in harm’s way?”

  Marcia ran her fingers through her curly dark hair, laced with gray. “She was my co-hospitality person. When I couldn’t bring the refreshments, Ashley stepped up. I was running late and asked her to fill in. She picked up some coffee and snacks and then stayed after the meeting ended to clean up—that comes with the duties. That’s why she was in the parking lot on her own that night. That’s why nobody witnessed her abduction.”

  As they talked to Marcia, a few other people filtered into the room, nervously sidling up to the refreshment table and grabbing coffee and cookies before joining the circle. They didn’t introduce themselves, and she and Billy didn’t ask. If one of them had something pertinent, Billy could always get the information later.

  Billy ran his finger around the circle. “All women? No guys come to this meeting?”

  Marcia answered for all of them. “This is a women’s-only AA meeting. Some of us find it easier to share with other women. There are men-only meetings, as well. There are meetings for LGBTQ, some for parents, some for singles. Something for everyone to feel comfortable.”

  Billy hunched forward, elbows on his knees. “The fact that this is a women’s-only meeting is published someplace? Someplace public?”

  Marcia answered, her eyes bright with fear, as the other women rustled around her. “Of course. There’s a website for AA meetings in Southern California. Anyone can see that.”

  One of the other women on the far side of the circle, her hands wrapped around a Styrofoam cup of coffee, asked, “You think he targeted our group because of that? Do you think any one of us could’ve been his victim that night?”

  “We just don’t know.” Billy clasped his hands between his knees. “This guy could’ve been stalking Ashley, knew she came to this meeting and ambushed her. But I’ll tell you what. Let me know what time this meeting gets out, and I’ll make sure a Glendale PD officer swings around on patrol at that time.”

  The rest of their conversation with the women gave them nothing. Ashley hadn’t been any different that night. None of the women had seen anyone lurking near the church, and every one of them had left before Ashley—and now blamed themselves for it.

  How had the killer known Ashley would be the last to leave? Were the women’s fears warranted? Copycat Four would’ve been satisfied with any one of them?

  Billy was right. The task force had nothing on this guy yet—even though he’d committed a second murder within twenty-four hours of the first. The Copycat Player Task Force still hadn’t released that information. They wanted to protect Piper, make the killer believe he’d gotten his witness.

  By the time they left the meeting, the sun had dipped low in the sky and the temp in the shade made Kyra shiver.

  She slid into the passenger seat of Billy’s car and took out her phone, which she had silenced. She puffed out a small breath when she saw a text from Jake, and then sucked it back in when she read the message.

  He asked her to his place for dinner tonight and indicated he had something important to tell her. Had he gotten confirmation from Dr. Ellis? Had he found something the night before in Quinn’s house?

  Billy punched the ignition. “Everything okay?”

  “Heard from Jake finally.”

  “Did he say where he’d been?”

  “No. Do you want me to ask?”

  “He’ll tell me if it’s important.”

  Apparently, what he had to tell her was important. She texted him back that she was on her way to the station with Billy and would drop by his house for dinner.

  They hit some traffic on the freeways. By the time they got to the Northeast Division, the shift change had already occurred, and most of the detectives had left the station.

  Billy pulled right up to the front door. “Okay if I drop you here? I don’t need to go in. I took all my stuff with me, and I’ll bring the car home tonight.”

  “This is fine. Thanks for taking me along, even though we didn’t get much out of the meeting.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. He may be hitting up late-night meetings where women are likely to be going out to their cars alone in places that probably don’t have security cameras. Every bit helps.”

  Kyra thanked him again before climbing out of the sedan. Entering the building, she waved at the night sergeant at the front desk. She jogged up the stairs. A smattering of people hunched over their computers or phones in the task force room, and she called out a hello here and there.

  She’d left her laptop on her desk when she’d gone to the AA meeting with Billy, and she woke it up now and checked her emails. Ashley Russell’s brother, Wade, had contacted her, and she replied to let him know her availability for tomorrow.

  As she skimmed through the rest of the messages, Captain Castillo appeared at the door of the war room. He didn’t usually stay this late, and his disheveled appearance and dark circles under his eyes signaled he should’ve gone home hours ago.

  Kyra smiled. “You’re here late, Captain.”

  “I was waiting for you, Kyra. Do you have a minute?”

  “Me?” She glanced behind her to make sure there were no other Kyras in the room.

  “When you’re free.”

  “Just let me wrap up, and I’ll drop by your office.” He left, and as she logged off her laptop, she mulled over why he’d want to see her. He must want to discuss Quinn’s funeral. Soon enough, everyone would know Quinn had been murdered. That would probably double the attendance at his funeral.

  She didn’t need to return to this room, so she hitched her laptop case over one shoulder and her purse over the other. She trooped down to Castillo’s office with both bags banging against her hips.

  He’d left the door open in invitation as there were few people left on the floor, but when she stepped inside, he asked her to shut the door. A flutter of trepidation invaded her bones.

  She nudged the door closed with her foot and dropped her bags to the floor. When she sat in the chair across from his desk, she gripped the arms.

  Captain Castillo spent several seconds straight
ening items on his orderly desk and then asked, “How are the funeral arrangements for Quinn going?”

  Kyra’s shoulders slumped, and she uncurled her fingers. He did want to talk about Quinn’s funeral, not that that discussion didn’t pose its own pitfalls. “I’m really not the person to ask. Terrence Hicks is organizing everything right now. I think once he gets certain concessions from the department, he’ll present me with choices, and then I’ll be more involved in the planning.”

  He cocked his head. “I haven’t heard from Terrence at all yet...or the ME’s office. They’re not done with the autopsy?”

  “The ME hasn’t notified me that she’s done with the autopsy.” She folded her hands in her lap to keep her fingers from fidgeting.

  “She?” Castillo’s gaze sharpened, and Kyra felt it probing her face.

  “Jake mentioned a Dr. Ellis was doing the autopsy, and he called her she.”

  “I know Dr. Ellis. She’s thorough and professional.”

  Would Castillo find Dr. Ellis all that professional if he knew she’d given Jake info on the sly and dropped the word murder in his ear?

  She cleared her throat. “That’s what Jake said. Maybe that’s why it’s taking a long time.”

  “You would think with Quinn’s history, the autopsy would be a mere formality.”

  Except for the shoe, the sock and the needle mark between his toes.

  “I’m happy to say I’m not familiar with the process of an autopsy.” She lifted her shoulders. “When I get the word that the examination is complete, I’ll contact Terrence, and he’ll move forward with the plans.”

  Castillo fiddled with a pen on his desk, and Kyra waited, the silence stretching between them so tightly she felt as if she could reach up and pluck it. Was that all he wanted to ask her? Why’d he ask her to his office and close the door?

  The knock from outside startled them both. Castillo dropped the pen, which rolled to the floor unheeded, and Kyra jumped in her seat, kicking over her bag. The noise snapped the tension in the room.