by Jana DeLeon
“A tall, lean white dude with brown hair,” Louise said. “You just described half the men walking around New Orleans.”
Shaye pulled out her phone and brought up the pictures she’d captured and saved earlier of Cooper and Parks. “Do you recognize either of these men?”
They leaned in and studied the photos, but both shook their heads.
“Is one of them the guy that did it, you think?” Louise asked.
“Both of them had access to the apartment and don’t have an alibi for that time, but I have no way to connect them to Carla.”
“Us working girls got a pretty good memory for faces,” Shonda said. “You need to so you can avoid the creeps. I ain’t seen either of them around here, but whoever picked Carla up Friday night did it while Louise and me was gone.”
“Or she called it quits because it was slow, and he got her on her way home or at the motel,” Louise said.
Shaye nodded and studied the two women for a moment, an idea that had been festering in her mind popping back into play.
“You don’t know of anyone else who’s missing, do you?” she asked.
“This ain’t exactly government work,” Shonda said. “Nobody sticks around any longer than they have to. Why? What you think happened?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Shaye said, “but if the man my client saw managed to collect a woman without being seen and clean a crime scene so that police didn’t find a trace of anything, then it’s hard for me to believe it was his first time.”
Louise’s hand flew over her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Shonda frowned. “There was a girl named Mitzi, used to work a couple blocks from here. I seen her in the coffee shop sometimes, but I ain’t in a month or so.”
“What did Mitzi look like?” Shaye asked.
“White, blonde, tall, thin,” Shonda said.
“Like Carla,” Louise said.
Shaye’s mind screamed at her that she’d known, but she forced herself to remain focused. It was only one other woman, and there might be an explanation for her disappearance that had nothing nefarious attached to it. Plenty of working girls were blonde.
But her gut told her differently.
“Do you know anything personal about Mitzi?” Shaye asked.
Shonda shook her head. “We just chatted about things that didn’t matter, really. There’s another girl that works that area, though. Brandi. White, brunette, and got a mole on her cheek. She might be able to tell you something.”
“I really appreciate you talking to me,” Shaye said.
“What do you think is going on?” Louise asked.
“I don’t know,” Shaye said, “but I want you two to be very careful, especially you, Louise.”
Louise sucked in a breath. “Because of my hair. Shit. I just did it blond because they make more money.”
“I’d get a wig if I was you,” Shonda said.
Shaye pulled out her wallet and handed them both a hundred bucks. “Maybe take the rest of the night off and grab a bite to eat. See about that wig in the morning.”
Shonda stuffed the money in her cleavage and pulled out a card. “That’s my cell phone. If you find out anything…”
Shaye shoved the card in her pocket and handed Shonda and Louise one of her own. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Please be careful, and if you see or hear anything suspicious, let me know.”
“We will,” Shonda said. “And I’ll ask around. See if there’s a recent shortage of blondes. I know a lot of people well enough that they’ll talk. Definitely they’ll talk to me before they talk to you.”
“I really appreciate it.”
Shonda nodded. “You all right. Most people wouldn’t bother with any of this.”
Shaye smiled. “That’s my job.”
Shonda snorted. “You ain’t fooling nobody. You ain’t got to work. You out here because you have to be. Some people got the calling. My grandmama worked relief in Africa for thirty years. I seen the difference between a job and something you ain’t got no choice but to do.”
“Well, let’s just hope my calling makes a difference,” Shaye said.
“Already has,” Shonda said. “That monster Clancy is dead.”
9
Shaye left Shonda and Louise and headed back to her car. It was too late to go by Madison’s place. She’d intended to go home after this stop, but since Shonda had indicated that Brandi worked only a couple blocks away, she decided to make a pass in that area and see if she could spot her. It was a quick drive two streets over and she slowed to a crawl, looking for a woman who might be Brandi. This street was a little busier than the other had been so she had to take it slow to get a good look at everyone. Finally, she spotted a brunette in a low-cut silver dress and red high heels leaving a convenience store with a pack of cigarettes in her hand.
Shaye pulled to the curb in front of the store and exited the vehicle. The woman had stopped next to a lamppost and was lighting a cigarette. She narrowed her eyes as Shaye approached.
“I’m just having a smoke,” the woman said. “I ain’t breaking any laws.”
Shaye showed the woman her ID. “I’m not a cop. I’m a PI. Are you Brandi?”
The woman’s eyes flickered and Shaye knew she’d found the right person, but she didn’t answer straightaway. “I might know Brandi,” she said finally.
“I got your name from Shonda,” Shaye said. “I’m not looking to cause you any trouble. I’m working a case and Shonda thought you might be able to help me out.”
“Don’t see how. Don’t know nothing about nothing and wouldn’t tell it even if I did.”
“Did you know a girl who worked this area named Mitzi?”
Brandi took a puff on the cigarette and blew it out. “Maybe. Why? What’s she done?”
“Nothing that I’m aware of. I’m afraid maybe something was done to her. I understand she hasn’t been around in a while.”
Shaye finally had Brandi’s full attention. “What do you mean done to her?”
“I’m investigating an attack on what I think was a white, blonde working girl. Shonda said she hadn’t seen Mitzi in a while and thought you might know where to find her if she left on her own accord.”
Brandi glanced up and down the street, then leaned closer to Shaye. “I ain’t seen her in a month. She don’t have no phone so I went to the apartment she rented. Damn landlord wouldn’t let me in to look. One of her neighbors said they hadn’t heard a peep from her unit though, and the walls is thin. Really thin.”
“Do you think she could have left town? Maybe gone back home, wherever that is?”
“Her stepdaddy turned her out when her momma died. She was thirteen. She ran clear of him a couple years later. The only reason she’d ever go back to that town is to spit on his grave when he dies.”
Shaye nodded. “Can you think of anywhere else she might have gone?”
“No. She didn’t have no other family that I know of. And even if she was cutting out, she would have told me.”
“Did she have a boyfriend?”
Brandi shook her head. “I don’t even think she liked men much. But they pay the bills, you know?”
“Can you tell me the address of her apartment? Maybe I’ll have better luck with the manager.”
Brandi gave Shaye the address. “He’s a real piece of work. Told me he’d let me in for a blow job.”
Anger coursed through Shaye and paying the apartment manager a visit moved up to priority one on her list of things to do the next day.
“Any other girls who’ve stopped showing up for work lately?” Shaye asked.
Brandi stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard, but I don’t talk much. You think you got some kind of Jack the Ripper thing?”
“I’m not sure what’s going on.” Shaye pulled out a business card and handed it to Brandi. “But if you hear anything about other girls missing—even rumor—please call me. I promise I’m not going to cause any trouble
for you.”
Brandi took the card and tucked it in her tiny purse. “Yeah, all right.”
“And please be careful.”
“Who are you working for, anyway? The cops?”
“No. Just an average woman who witnessed something horrible and wants justice.”
Despite the fact that it was close to midnight, Jackson was parked in front of Shaye’s apartment, waiting on her to return. He’d known her plans for the night and although he’d tried to convince her to let him come along, she’d insisted that even the sight of him would close up any mouths that might have otherwise spoken. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t argue with her when she was right. Working girls could spot a cop ten blocks away. He’d insisted on regular contact, so he’d known when she was about to conduct her final interview and would be heading home. That’s when he’d set out for her place.
She wasn’t expecting him. If he’d insisted on talking to her in person when she finished up work, she would have known something was up. Something so big it couldn’t wait until the next day. And wondering could have thrown her off her game at a time when he needed her to be focused on everything around her and not what he had to say. So he’d decided to let her focus on her work tonight and meet up with her when she was done. She’d been out later than he’d thought she would be, which meant either that she’d found a line to work or that she hadn’t found anything and had refused to stop trying until she’d exhausted her options.
The headlights from her SUV flashed onto the street a couple minutes after he arrived. He watched as she parked behind him and got out of her vehicle. He stepped out of his truck and walked over to her. She gave him a smile but he could see the unspoken question in her eyes.
She kissed him, then motioned to the door. “I know you’re not here to tuck me in, but whatever it is will have to wait until I change. Then you can fill me in over a beer and cookies.”
“Best offer I’ve had all day.”
Shaye smiled. “That’s not exactly a compliment given what you do for a living.”
Inside, he headed straight for the refrigerator while Shaye went to change. She looked tired and worried, and the last thing he wanted to do was add to all of that, but no way was he going to keep what he knew from her. Not even for one day. Their relationship was built on trust—something Shaye had for very few people—and he wasn’t going to do anything to compromise it.
But he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. To be honest, he hadn’t really decided how he felt about the information, which left him with no earthly idea how Shaye would receive it. Part of him wished there was nothing to be found about the baby. With no avenue of investigation, Shaye would have had to let it go, and part of Jackson thought that might be better. But the other part of him understood that not knowing was a form of torture all in itself.
But what if the unimaginable happened? What if Shaye found the child? What then?
He wasn’t sure Shaye knew the answer and he couldn’t even begin to offer one up. Which left him filling the role he most often filled with Shaye—supporting whatever decision she made. He hated that he couldn’t contribute more, that he couldn’t share some of her burden, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out a way to do it.
Shaye came back into the kitchen wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Even though it was chilly outside, her apartment was always toasty warm. Jackson had joked once about her utility bill but instead of laughing, she’d gone quiet, then explained that she’d spent so many winters shivering in that crypt that she refused to be cold in her home. It was a stark reminder to him that no matter how much Shaye had healed, there were things that she might never be able to shed.
Shaye flopped onto the couch as Jackson headed into the living room and placed a container of cookies on the coffee table in between the bottles of beer before sitting next to her on the couch. Shaye took a sip of beer, then leaned back and looked over at him.
“Tell me,” she said. “By the look on your face, I know it isn’t good, so rip the Band-Aid off.”
Jackson blew out a breath. “I talked to Elliot today.”
Shaye stiffened. “He found something?”
Jackson nodded and told Shaye about the entries in Emile Samba’s journals. Shaye listened in complete silence, but Jackson could tell by the way her jaw clenched that she was angry. When he finished, he studied her for several seconds.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laid this on you tonight. It could have waited.”
“No. You made the right call. This wouldn’t have been any easier to hear in the morning or a week from now. That’s all Elliot found?”
“Yeah. He scanned ahead a good bit to see if there were any other mentions, but that’s it.”
“It’s not surprising. Once he exchanged the baby for the money, he was done. It probably never crossed his mind again.”
The anger and bitterness in her voice made his heart clench, and he reached over to take her hand. “He was a monster. A psychopath. Nothing he did has any relevance as to your worth or that of the child.”
Shaye squeezed his hand. “I know. Eleonore has spent a third of my life drilling that into my head. I accept it mentally although I can’t help the disgust I feel. But emotionally…”
“I understand. When it’s something this big, it’s hard to separate the head from the heart. I don’t even know that it’s possible.”
“I have to find that attorney.”
Jackson held in a sigh. He’d known it was coming and understood the reasons why it had to happen, but he was still afraid of what the eventuality would be as the weeks, then months, ticked by without a single lead. She’d handled so much already. Could this be the one thing she wasn’t ready for?
“You know better than anyone the difficulties,” he said.
“I do, but I have to try. I’m not going to make this my life’s work. I’ll do the things I would for any client asking for the same service. If it doesn’t yield anything, then I’ll file it all away to revisit if something new gives me another angle to pursue.”
He knew she believed what she was saying, but he also knew that once Shaye started down that road of pursuit, it would be much harder to file it away than she thought. He’d known detectives who couldn’t let go of a case. That one case that they never really closed the door on, even though it cost some of them their families, their health, and in a couple cases, their jobs. And in every instance, Jackson absolutely understood their reasons, but he couldn’t help but feel bad about the lives ruined by their dogged pursuit of a question with no answers.
“I’ll support you and help you with anything you want to do,” he said. “You know that. But I feel like I had to say that. You’ve had so much to deal with lately. Disappointment is far too trite a word for what you’ve experienced. I just don’t want any more heaped on you.”
She let go of his hand and slipped her arms around him. He pulled her in close until she was nestled against him and kissed the top of her head. If only he could hold her right there, on that couch forever, protecting her from all the bad things out there for the rest of her life. But he knew he couldn’t.
Because once Shaye Archer was determined to do something, it was all over but the worrying.
He roamed the house, his eyes looking past the peeling wallpaper and tattered furniture. At one time, this had been home. Now it sat, decaying a little more each day.
Just like the bodies he’d disposed of.
He headed down the hallway, his footsteps heavy on the rotting floors, and made his way into her room. Rats had shredded the end of the quilt, probably to build a winter nest, and a thick layer of dust covered every surface, but otherwise, it looked as it had when he’d lived here. He peered in the closet and saw her favorite pink dress hanging there, and he flashed back to the day that had changed everything.
The day he’d learned the truth.
All those years he’d believed her lies. Believed that hi
s father had left them because he didn’t want a child. Believed that she did her best to take care of him. But none of it was true. His mother was the reason his father left. She was a whore. Maybe she didn’t walk the streets selling herself like the others, but a nice dress and an expensive haircut didn’t make her any different or any better. In fact, it made her worse. At least the others weren’t hypocrites.
He walked over to the dresser and picked up a picture. All of the rage he’d felt the day he’d learned the truth came racing back into his body, knotting every muscle. Making it hard for him to breathe. The fake blonde hair. The thick makeup and tight clothes. Decent women didn’t look that way. Good mothers definitely didn’t. But she’d paid for her lies. One bad batch of cocaine was all it had taken to rid himself of the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
But then she’d come back. He saw her everywhere. On every street corner.
And now, in a penthouse apartment.
10
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
* * *
Jackson stretched his arms out from under the blanket that covered him and lifted himself into a sitting position. He’d spent the night on Shaye’s couch. She had a guest room, but he preferred staying where he could see the front door and figured Shaye probably preferred it as well, even though she would never admit she was nervous about being there alone. She also had a king-size bed that could easily accommodate both of them, but that was territory they hadn’t gotten into yet and definitely one of those areas where he would wait for her to make the first move. Or at the very least, give off signals that were the equivalent of holding a neon sign above her head.
He would be the first to admit that he wanted her that way, but why wouldn’t he? She was the most incredible woman he’d ever met and beautiful to boot. And if he was being honest with himself, his feelings grew deeper with every moment he spent in her company. He’d never fallen like this before, and he knew this was different. Special. And he was prepared to do anything required not to screw it up.
