Unseen

by Jana DeLeon

  So she had no idea who could be at her door now. Corrine and Eleonore always called before coming by, and Jackson always called or texted. Hustle and Saul were back at the hotel, hosting a celebration with Sprint and Raven, and she didn’t anticipate the police asking her for a statement until tomorrow.

  She peeked out the blinds and saw Shonda standing there. She pulled open the door and Shonda threw her arms around Shaye and hugged her so tightly she might have bruised a rib. When Shonda released her, Shaye could see her eyes were misty.

  “I shoulda called first,” Shonda said. “But I had to thank you in person.”

  “You heard already? I was going to call you tomorrow. Come inside.”

  Shonda stepped inside and followed Shaye into the kitchen, where Shaye pointed to a barstool.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” Shaye asked.

  “No. Thank you. I ain’t gonna take up your time. Lord knows, you probably need to sleep. Or maybe drink. I’m not sure how to fix what you been through.”

  “Me either.”

  “Louise has an old high school friend that works as a nurse’s aide. She was there when they brought that girl you was helping into the hospital. She told Louise about it. Louise called me. And I called every working girl I know and the news is spreading faster than a cold.”

  Shaye smiled. “I’m really glad it’s over.”

  “Me too. And I’m sure I ain’t heard the whole story. Maybe sometime, you can fill me in.”

  “I don’t know that you want to hear the details. A lot of it is gruesome and sad.”

  “I figured, but I feel like I owe Carla that much. To know what happened to her and why. She was a good person. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

  “No. She didn’t.”

  “And I feel all of us owe you as well. No one believed that woman when she said Carla was killed ‘cept you. And if you hadn’t, he might have got away with it. And don’t give me that bullshit about just doing your job. We both know it’s more than that.”

  “You’re right. I liked what you said before. That it’s a calling.”

  Shonda nodded. “Anyway, I wanted to see you in person and tell you that because of this, I’m making some changes. I’m quitting the streets.”

  Shaye stared. “You are?”

  “Not tomorrow or anything. I still got bills. But when it opens again in January, I’m putting in my papers for beauty school. It’s what I was gonna do years ago before I got sidelined by a man. Ain’t gonna happen this time.”

  Shaye had no doubt that Shonda could accomplish whatever she set her mind to. “You know there are grants for school. I could help you with the paperwork.”

  “For real?”

  “Then maybe you could get off the streets sooner.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “What about Louise? Does she know what you’re planning?”

  “I told her. I don’t think she believes it yet, but once I start making changes, I think she will too. This thing with Carla spooked her. She ain’t ever gonna look at a john the same again. Neither of us will. And we’ll stick to our rules. Carla didn’t.”

  “I still wonder why she went to the apartment with Michael. I figure it’s because she knew him.”

  Shonda nodded. “That and the money. It’s a dangerous thing, though—thinking you know somebody.”

  “Yes. Sometimes it is.”

  Shonda rose from the stool. “I gotta get. If you was serious about helping me with those papers, I’ll call you next week.”

  “I’d love to help.”

  “I’m gonna pray every day that God keeps you safe. This city needs you.”

  It was well into the night before Jackson made it to Shaye’s place. He’d spent a long day helping Detective Maxwell run down all the facts they could obtain on Michael Babbage, aka Casey Dugas, and searched every square inch of the house he’d lived in with his mother.

  “How’s Madison doing?” Jackson asked as he slumped onto the couch.

  Shaye grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and handed it to him. He’d earned that and more.

  “She’s doing good,” she said as she sat next to him. “Her head hurts some and she’ll need to regrow a patch of hair, but I don’t think she’s overly worried about it. She’s torn a few things in her shoulder, but the doctor thinks it will be fine with some rest.”

  “And mentally?”

  “That one’s always hard to call. I’d say that right now, she’s so relieved, she’s happy. But eventually, she’ll come down off that high and start working through everything that happened, piece by piece. She’ll have some things to deal with, but I think she can handle it. And she’s got Eleonore.”

  “She couldn’t find better on that end of things.”

  “That’s for sure.” Shaye credited Eleonore with her ability to live a normal life. As far as she was concerned, the therapist was a miracle worker. “Did you turn up anything at the house?”

  “Oh yeah. All sorts of things. The worst being a set of photos—four women, Carla included—it was clear they were dead. All blonde. Maxwell already identified one as Mitzi, and he’ll keep working on ID for the other two. There were dates on each photo. The killings started after Ramona Babbage died.”

  “An overdose, right? Want to place any bets on that one being an accident?”

  “Ha! Pass. I’m going with Killing Mommy Made Me Psycho for the win.”

  “Based on the things he said to Madison, I think you’re probably right. I mean, I doubt he was ever quite right, but I think killing her would have tipped him over the edge.”

  Shaye told Jackson what Michael had said to Madison when she was being held captive.

  Jackson nodded. “Something else we found—more paternity tests. Every one of them a man who owned a low-end motel. We checked. Michael, aka Casey, had worked as a night manager at every one of them over the last two years.”

  “He must have found out somehow that his father owned a motel and gotten jobs so he could get close enough to the owners to get hair to use for the DNA tests.”

  “And then he found Ray and he was a match. But why didn’t he tell him the truth?”

  “I think he looked for Ray intending to kill him. Michael told Madison that he knew about her lies. My guess is he went to work at the motel and Ray eventually shared the story he told me—of his tragic youthful romance—with Michael. Maybe as a warning about getting involved with the wrong woman.”

  “Then Michael realized his mother had lied all this time and he killed her, setting off a whole different chain of events.”

  “I don’t think we’ll ever know exactly what was going on in his head. I’m sure Eleonore would have some theories, but honestly, I don’t even care. Michaels’s gone and that’s good enough for me. What else did you guys find?”

  “You’re going to love this one—a 3D printer and several plastic keys.”

  Shaye stared. “That’s genius. He used his mother’s phone to get the key to the apartment, then made a copy of it right there.”

  “Maxwell’s going to take the keys over to the apartment building and test them, but I’m betting one of them works. The others are either duplicates or keys to other vacant units.”

  “Other crime scenes. Or potential crime scenes.”

  “It’s possible. Maxwell plans to get a list of every ‘showing’ that Ramona had after her death and see if any of the other keys match. We also found a dolly and a furniture crate, just the right size to transport a body.”

  “That’s how he moved the bodies without being seen. No one thinks twice about a guy moving a crate when he’s driving a furniture truck.” She shook her head. “It still amazes me sometimes how people who are so warped can also be very clever. It’s frightening, really.”

  “Yeah. These kinds of cases always leave me feeling uneasy. When crimes happen over money or a woman, you can understand the dynamic on a certain level, even if you don’t agree with the action taken. But when people
are living in their own damaged mind, there’s no way to understand that completely. Unless maybe you’re just as damaged.”

  Shaye nodded. “It makes avoiding danger difficult when you can’t pinpoint the inciting incident. It means everyone can be a victim. That’s a tough reality to live with, even for a cop.”

  “Did you talk to Ray again?”

  “Yeah. That’s where I just came from.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “As well as can be expected when you find out the son you never knew you had was a serial killer.”

  Shaye shook her head. “Ray is a good man. I feel bad for him.”

  “He’s a strong guy. He’ll figure out how to handle it, but yeah. I feel bad for him too. You know, one thing I still can’t figure out is how Michael killed Carla when he was supposed to be at the hotel working.”

  “I have a guess on that one,” Shaye said. “I think he asked Jason to cover the desk for him. Probably told him he had a family emergency and not to let anyone know or he’d lose his job.”

  Jackson’s eyes widened. “I bet you’re right. Two young white guys, brown hair. People probably wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the difference. And that would explain why Michael was angry with Jason. When the heat turned up on the investigation, Jason must have thought something wasn’t quite right.”

  “Yeah. It’s a shame he wasn’t smart enough to know why. If he’d gone to the police with his concerns, he might still be alive.”

  “So much carnage and we’ll never know for certain why. Sometimes this job sucks.”

  Shaye leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You have to remember all the people you help. Like Madison. Not only did you save her life, but you killed the man who wanted her dead. She’ll be able to move forward because she’s safe. Even if you don’t have an answer for everything, the outcome matters more.”

  He looked at her and smiled. “How did I get such a smart, beautiful girlfriend?”

  “Well, for starters, you have really good taste.”

  He laughed and put his arms around her and pulled her close. She leaned into him, the heat from his body comforting her. She’d never met a man like Jackson. A man who didn’t just talk about high moral standards but lived them. A man who didn’t make promises lightly and put himself on the line every day for strangers.

  A man she could trust.

  He released her and reached for the present she’d started to open last night. “I think you’ve waited long enough,” he said, and handed her the pretty box with its metallic silver bow.

  “I thought you’d never remember,” she said. “I’ve been staring at that thing for the last half hour.”

  He grinned. “Go for it.”

  She pulled the bow and slipped it off the box, then lifted the lid and gasped. “Oh my God, Jackson. It’s beautiful.”

  The locket was silver and old. She lifted it from the box to get a closer look. It was heart-shaped, and the etching on both sides was so intricate that she couldn’t fathom the amount of ability or time it took to render such a work of art. She pressed the tiny button on the top and it opened. Inside were two photos—her on one side, Jackson on the other.

  “I was afraid you might think it was corny with the pictures,” he said. “But it was so pretty. I saw it and immediately thought of you.”

  Shaye sniffed and struggled to keep from crying. “It’s not corny at all. It’s beautiful and perfect.”

  He took it from her hands and placed it over her head, letting it rest against her chest, then he took her hands in his and looked directly at her.

  “I love you, Shaye Archer.”

  The tears that had been threatening to fall burst out and she began to cry. She flung her arms around him, so many emotions coursing through her that she didn’t even trust herself to speak.

  Finally, the tears subsided and she whispered, “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  More Shaye Archer coming in 2018.

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