Unseen

by Jana DeLeon

  “Okay, and if he doesn’t?”

  “Then we head to the Franklin Motel and question everyone who’ll talk about Parks. And we ask Ray if we can search his room. I know one of Maxwell’s teams already went through it, but maybe they missed something. Or maybe they saw something that didn’t mean anything to them but might to us.”

  She looked over at him and could see the worry in his expression.

  “I know I’m grasping at straws,” she said, “but I can’t change clothes and go sit down for a five-course meal at my mother’s house. Not when I know what Madison could be going through.”

  “Of course not. And no one is asking you to. I’m sure Corrine will understand, but the reality is, neither of us has slept in a long time and we might not be as sharp as we need to be.”

  “It will have to do. I couldn’t sleep right now if I tried.”

  “Okay. Then we’ll finish up our coffee, force ourselves to eat a couple bites of something, ask for to-go cups, and go speak to Hustle. You realize how early it is, right? We’ll probably have to roust him out of bed.”

  “I don’t think he’ll mind.”

  Thirty minutes later, Shaye entered the lobby of the Bayou Hotel and drew up short when she saw Saul standing behind the counter.

  “I figured you’d still be in bed,” she said as she and Jackson made their way over.

  Saul waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m old. Sleep goes out the window right along with your hair.”

  “Things to look forward to,” Jackson said.

  “You still got a while. Me, I’m well on the back side of a good set of hair. So you want to tell me what’s wrong? Because I know you two aren’t out this early, looking like the cat dragged you in, because you’re interested in my thinning hair.”

  “I wanted to talk to Hustle,” Shaye said.

  “Still looking for that girl?” Saul asked.

  Shaye nodded. “Things have escalated since yesterday.”

  “Then I best get him out of bed. Meet us in the break room. I started a pot of coffee a minute ago. You both look like you could use a cup.”

  “We’ve already had three each.”

  Saul shook his head. “Then I best hurry.”

  Shaye and Jackson made their way to the break room, and Shaye poured herself a cup of coffee. “Want another?” she asked.

  “No. But give me one anyway.”

  She poured his cup and put them both on the table before dropping into one of the chairs. “Too tired to stand. Too antsy to sit. But tired is winning.”

  Jackson nodded and took the chair next to her. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before we see a pillow again.”

  “When this is over, I might give up coffee for a while.”

  “Let’s not get hasty.”

  She heard footsteps and low voices and a couple seconds later, a very sleepy but concerned-looking Hustle entered the room, Saul right behind. Hustle sat next to Shaye, and Saul poured himself a cup of coffee and took the last seat.

  “What happened?” Hustle asked. “Saul said things are worse and you didn’t find the girl.”

  Shaye gave him a basic description of the situation leading up to Madison’s abduction, leaving off how things progressed and ended with Carla. When she was done, Hustle sat back and blew out a breath.

  “Man! That is some crazy shit.”

  Saul gave him the parental look.

  “Sorry,” Hustle said, and held up his hands. “But it is. That lady sees faces, then can’t remember them? And what are the odds that she’s the witness? “

  “It’s definitely not a normal situation,” Shaye agreed. “Which is why it’s been so difficult to catch the guy.”

  “And now he has this lady.” Hustle shook his head. “He’s a serial killer, right? That means if he hasn’t already killed her, he’s going to.”

  Shaye nodded. “And the only two people who can identify him are the security guard at Madison’s building, who was shot and is still unconscious, and this girl he paid to deliver the package.”

  “And if you don’t know who he is, you don’t know where to look,” Hustle said. “So finding this girl might be the lady’s only chance.”

  “It’s possible,” Shaye said. “We have one other line of investigation to follow—a suspect we haven’t been able to locate since yesterday. But yeah, the girl is our best chance of identifying the killer. And the quickest—if we can find her.”

  “You checked Julia Street?” Hustle asked.

  Shaye nodded. “I drove that area for a while yesterday, until the crowds started thinning out. I figured when the people went home, the street kids would disappear as well.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “No money to be made without an audience, you know?”

  “Exactly, and I figured today would be quiet, but I remembered you telling me that you celebrated Christmas with some of the other street kids. It was a long shot, but I thought I’d see if you had any idea where they might do that sort of thing.”

  “Assuming she was part of a group,” Hustle said, “and assuming they celebrated.”

  “I know,” Shaye said. “It’s such a thin lead it’s almost nonexistent, but we were already in the area and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

  “We had a regular place,” Hustle said. “An inside place for when the weather was bad. It was an abandoned warehouse. We’d hauled in some couches people threw out and cleared a space so we could skate in there. If she’s in a group that’s celebrating, you’re not going to see them from the street.”

  Shaye blew out a breath. “So you’re talking a search of every empty building in that area. That could take days.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t help,” Hustle said. “If I knew anything…that poor lady.”

  Shaye put her hand on his arm. “You did everything you could. Please don’t feel bad. The New Orleans police and I are doing all we can to find her.”

  Hustle nodded, but Shaye could tell how troubled he was.

  “Please be careful,” he said.

  “Always.”

  26

  Hustle turned around and tracked back in the direction from which he’d just come. It wasn’t much of a hike, being that the living room was small, but he didn’t figure leaving Saul alone on Christmas morning was the right thing to do, even if he was just walking up and down the halls of the hotel.

  Saul looked up from his spot on the couch. “You’re going to wear out the carpet with your pacing,” he said.

  Hustle stopped and looked over at the man who was the closest thing to a father that he’d ever had. Hustle had tried to sit and watch the parade with Saul. To listen to the Christmas music and get into the holiday spirit. After all, he had a whole lot to be thankful for. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the lady. Was she still alive? He was hopeful until he remembered that dead might be better than some things.

  “I’m worried about that lady,” Hustle said finally.

  Saul nodded. “Me too.”

  “I can’t just sit here knowing she’s out there somewhere, scared to death…not if there’s something I can do.”

  “You told Shaye everything you know. You’ve already done what you can do.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What else is there?”

  “I could find the girl.” He held his hand up to stop the barrage he knew was coming. “Before you say anything, some of the street kids know about Shaye, but not all of them. And the ones who have heard of her still might not trust her. Shaye sorta knows how to spot them on the street, but she doesn’t know how we hide…how they hide.”

  Saul frowned. “You really think you can find the girl?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ve got a lot better chance than Shaye. Searching those buildings could take the police days, and if they wait for everyone to return to the streets tomorrow…”

  He didn’t say what he was thinking. He didn’t need to. Saul knew the score as well as he did.

  Saul
rose from the couch. “Then I guess I best put on some tennis shoes.”

  “You’re going with me?”

  “Regardless of what the law says, you’re still not good enough to drive alone, especially in a car you’re not yet familiar with. Besides, if that girl saw the man they’re looking for, she’s in danger too. I know you want to help, and so do I, but I’m not letting you do it alone. I’ll hang back when you need me to, but I’m not going to just sit on this couch and hope for the best.”

  “Fair enough.” If he was being honest, Hustle was a little relieved that Saul was coming with him. Someone waiting nearby was a lot better than someone sitting a couple districts over with a cell phone.

  Hustle headed to his room to change. Shaye had been right when she pointed out that he looked more suburbia than street. But he’d kept one set of clothes that he used to wear. The jeans were too short due to a recent growth spurt and they were worn in several places. The hoodie was so threadbare on the elbows that it was almost transparent. But they would help him look the part. If he wanted to find the girl, the kids he talked to had to trust him. And they wouldn’t even consider it unless he was one of them. After changing, he grabbed his sketch pad and some pencils and headed out.

  Saul was standing in the living room, shoving his pistol in his waistband when Hustle returned. Hustle was as happy to see the pistol as he was that Saul was coming. The retired military man was an excellent shot. If they ran into the killer, Hustle’s money was on the hotel owner.

  “What’s the pad for?” Saul asked.

  “In case we find her. Shaye said I was better than the police sketch artist, and I know I’ll be quicker.”

  “Good thinking.” Saul reached under the tree and grabbed a package. He tossed it to Hustle. “Open it.”

  “Now?”

  “You might need it.”

  Hustle pulled the paper off the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a military-grade pocketknife, just like the one Saul carried. Hustle had always admired it, and Saul had remembered.

  “It’s perfect,” Hustle said, still humbled by the way his life had changed. “Thank you.”

  Saul clasped him on the shoulder. “Let’s just try to do this without pulling anything out of our pockets, okay?”

  They headed out to Saul’s truck and when they got to Julia Street, Hustle directed him a block away and told him to drive slowly for three blocks, then move one block over and head back in the other direction.

  The streets were quiet, with only a handful of cars moving on them. Because this area of the city was mostly businesses, there were hardly any cars parked at the curbs. A couple walked a dog and peered into the windows of an art gallery but otherwise, there was no one in sight. Hustle studied the empty buildings as they went, looking for the signs that would indicate people inside.

  “Wait,” he said finally. “Pull over here.”

  “Why here?” Saul asked as he parked in the middle of the street in front of an antique furniture store.

  “Because that building behind us is empty.”

  “We’ve passed several that were empty.”

  “But they were already being developed or were about to be. That one has the city trespassing signs but no real estate signs. Not yet.”

  Saul turned around to look at the building. “The doors and all the windows are boarded up.”

  “Yeah, but the board over the window on the alley side is crooked. Maybe they hung it crooked or maybe someone took it down afterward.”

  Saul climbed out of the truck and followed Hustle around the side of the building. Sure enough, one of the pieces of plywood was tilted at an odd angle. Hustle reached up and easily lifted it off the screws it was resting on.

  “See,” Hustle said. “There’s a bracket on each side. When they leave, they put that board across the plywood to hold it in place. But as long as the wind’s not bad, it will stay propped up here while they’re inside.”

  “How do you know it’s kids?”

  “I don’t. Could be anyone living on the street. We all know the same tricks.”

  “You’re not going in there alone.”

  “Don’t see any other way to find out who’s inside.”

  Saul shook his head. “No way. It could be junkies or even dealers in there. They wouldn’t hesitate to cut your throat. If you’re going in, I’m going with you.”

  “If they see you, they won’t talk.”

  “If it’s not kids, they might kill you for invading their space. You’ve only got two choices here—either I go with you or you don’t go.”

  Hustle knew Saul was right. It was just as likely that junkies were inside as it was that kids were. And Saul did have his pistol. Junkies usually had a shiv of some sort, but few on the street had a gun. Anyone who’d had one usually sold it at some point.

  “Okay,” Hustle said. “But stay back some. Make sure when people set eyes on me, they don’t see you. At least not at first. And be careful where you walk. These buildings are usually falling apart.”

  “I spent four years crawling through sand dodging land mines in Iraq. You think a little rotten wood is going to get the best of me?”

  Hustle grinned. That’s one of the things he liked best about Saul. He was a man’s man. Tough and ready to back it up.

  “Then let’s get going,” Hustle said and hoisted himself over the window ledge.

  Saul grunted a bit getting into the building, and Hustle knew the older man’s knees were probably protesting the jump he had to make to get over the ledge, but as soon as he was inside, he waved at Hustle to continue.

  With all the windows boarded up, the building was dark inside until they reached the center, which had probably served at one time as a lobby. The ceiling was vaulted there and the plywood covering some of the second-floor windows had fallen off. Or been removed. It might have been done intentionally to give them some light inside. Hustle stopped in the middle of the room to listen. He could hear the faint sound of music coming from the back of the building. At least it was on the first floor. It was easier to navigate a healthy retreat when stairs weren’t involved.

  Hustle pointed to a closed door at the end of the hallway and Saul nodded. He followed Hustle down the hall, peering into the empty rooms as they passed. When they reached the end, Saul slipped into the doorway of the closest empty room. Hustle knocked on the door first. Surprise was not a popular thing among street people. He heard shuffling inside, and then the door opened a crack and a boy about his age gave him a cautious look.

  “What do you want?” the boy asked.

  “My name is Hustle. I’m a skater from the Ninth Ward docks.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “I’m looking for a girl who stays around here.”

  “Maybe you should find a girl in your own territory.”

  “It’s not like that. This girl saw something. I need to talk to her.”

  “What did she see?”

  “A guy who killed someone. And if he hasn’t gotten to her already, he’s probably looking.”

  The boy frowned. “What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know.” He pulled a copy of the drawing Shaye had from his pocket and showed the guy. “Do you know her?”

  The boy opened the door a little wider and took the drawing from Hustle. “Wait here.” He shut the door and Hustle blew out a breath, every second feeling like an hour. Finally, the door opened and an older girl with short, jet-black hair looked out at him.

  “How do you know someone’s after her?” the girl asked.

  “Because a private investigator told me. Shaye Archer. Have you heard the name?”

  “Who hasn’t? You’re telling me Shaye Archer is looking for this girl because she saw a killer?”

  Hustle nodded.

  “You’re not bullshitting me?”

  Hustle reached into his pocket and pulled out Shaye’s business card. “I have a whole stack of them. I know her and I trust her. If she says this girl is in trouble, then it�
�s the truth. Why else would I be out here looking for her on Christmas Day?”

  The girl looked behind the door at someone and nodded, then she turned back to Hustle. “I’m pretty sure that’s Sprint. I saw her yesterday evening, and she was shook up. Said some guy attacked her.”

  Hustle felt his heart beat stronger. “But she got away?”

  “Yeah. She ain’t called Sprint for nothing. Once she broke loose, there ain’t no way he could have caught her.”

  “Do you know where I can find her? It’s really important that I find her now. That guy that attacked her has already killed a woman and now he’s kidnapped another. She’s the only person who can identify him. He’s not going to stop coming after her.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. She needs to hide.”

  “Can’t hide forever. But if she could give Shaye a description…or look at some photos, they can catch the guy. Maybe before he kills the other woman.”

  He deliberately avoided mentioning the police because that word alone created panic among street kids, but even though he hadn’t mentioned it, they would know the score. If someone was out there killing and kidnapping people, then the police were involved.

  “I don’t know,” the girl said finally. “Let me check on something.”

  The door closed again and Hustle could barely control his excitement. He had no doubt this girl knew where to find Sprint, or at least had a good idea. If he could just convince her that speaking to Shaye was the smartest thing Sprint could do, then maybe he could convince Sprint as well.

  He heard hushed talking inside, and then the door opened again. He expected to see the girl again, but this time, Sprint was standing in front of him.

  Jackson parked in front of the lobby of the Franklin Motel and they stepped inside. Ray was standing behind the counter, and he gave her an exhausted nod. “I wondered if I’d see you,” Ray said.

  “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances,” Shaye said. “This is Detective Lamotte.”