by Rebecca York
“But what’s his motive for killing class members?” Brian pressed. “I mean, we graduated ten years ago. Why now?”
“That’s the tricky part. It’s not like we can draw an arrow to any one motive—unless it’s directly related to Gary. Until we come up with more information, we can only speculate. And that makes him more dangerous. If you want some advice, I’d get out of town for a few days.”
“I was already thinking about that.”
“The guy who killed Claire is out of control. It’s like he’s trying to wipe the slate clean, and he’s getting reckless.”
“Yeah.”
“So get out of his way for a few days.”
“And you’ll have it cleared up by then?” Brian asked sarcastically. “When the cops are still standing around holding their…” He stopped and glanced at Olivia. “Sorry, I’m on edge.”
“We all are.”
“I think things are moving fast,” Max said. He looked at Olivia. “Come on, we’ve got something we can work with.”
They left the office, glancing at Ms. Holiday as they passed her desk. She gave them a questioning look.
“Bring your boss a glass of water,” Max said. “Or if he keeps liquor in the office, he might want something stronger.”
Before she could comment, they exited the office, neither one of them speaking again until they’d climbed into Max’s SUV and closed the doors.
“How does what he said about their going down to Baltimore help us?” she asked. “I mean, if they visited a prostitute, it could be anyone.”
“Yeah, but I used to work vice down there, and I have some contacts among the working girls. Some of them worked as informants for me.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s start by looking for some of my old contacts.”
“But like Brian said, whatever happened with Troy and Tommy was ten years ago.”
“Right. But it may be memorable enough to find out what happened.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “I told Brian he was in danger. Now I’m thinking I should leave you with Shane and Jack.”
“No,” she answered instantly.
“Why not?”
“Because I want to see this thing through. And I’m not going to be any safer with them than I am with you.”
“You’d be out of the action.”
“I was the one who called you in the first place. And I’m not going to hide in a closet while you’re out investigating.”
He sighed. “Okay, I get that. But we’re going into a rough neighborhood. Stay close to me and keep your head down.”
She expected him to pull out of the parking space. Instead he pulled out his phone and dialed. When someone answered, she could tell he was talking to his partners.
“Olivia and I have some new information. We’re going down to Baltimore to follow a lead.”
In answer to a question, he conveyed what Brian had said.
After listening to the reaction on the other end of the line, he said, “Olivia wants to go along, but I figured I’d better clue you in to our location.”
Again he listened, and she saw his expression change. “Good. Keep me posted.”
“What?” she asked when he’d hung up.
“The results came back on the DNA.”
She leaned toward him. “They know who it was who strung that barbed wire in the woods? Then we don’t have to go down to Baltimore after all.”
He sighed. “I wish it were that simple. The DNA from the blood on the shirt was good enough to type. But that doesn’t mean we know who the guy is.”
When she looked confused, he explained it to her. “It can be identified as one particular individual. Now Shane is hoping a friend of his in the Montgomery PD will do a search of the Maryland criminal database. But even if his friend will do it, the perp might not have a record. So we’ll stick to our original plan unless he calls back with a name we can take to the bank.”
“Okay. I get it.”
He drove out of the parking lot and headed for I-95, then turned north and into the city.
Olivia cleared her throat. “Thanks for not saying any more about what happened at the cabin.”
“I understand why you don’t want anyone to know about it—besides whoever already knows. And it looks like there are fewer of them than there used to be.”
She winced.
“I don’t think Brian was at the cabin,” he said, and she knew he was trying to reassure her. “But I get the feeling that if he heard stuff about what happened in Baltimore after the party, he might also have heard about the cabin.”
“And that really could put him in danger, which means we did him a favor.”
“If he takes our advice.”
“You said the killer is deteriorating,” she said.
“Until recently he’s been very cagey. He never killed in the same way. He made sure it would be hard to connect the dots on the murders.”
“I connected them.”
“You’re smart. And you were on the edge of the action. You probably had a feeling there was something going on, but you couldn’t quite put it together—partly because it involved incidents you wanted to forget about.”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“Back to the killer. For ten years, he was very clever. Now he’s doing stuff that’s going to get him caught.”
“Maybe he doesn’t see it that way.”
“If not, I’d say his judgment is going. Did he really need to kill Claire?”
“I don’t know what she knew about him—if anything. But she was at the party. And maybe she was up at the cabin, too,” she added in a low voice.
Max reached across the console and laid his hand over hers. They both knew “up at the cabin” was shorthand for what had happened to Olivia up there. Had Claire also been raped?
Olivia turned her palm up, knitting her fingers with Max’s, and he drove with one hand on the wheel for a few moments.
“Or it could be she had nothing to do with any of it,” Olivia said. “He could have looked around for someone who he could drive crazy—then used her to get to me. Either way, she’s dead.”
“And it’s not your fault,” Max added.
“I know, but I can’t help feeling like I could have saved her.”
“How? Knocked her out cold and dragged her out of the house? And then what? The guy still had his gun.”
They rode in silence into the city. Olivia hadn’t been in downtown Baltimore in a long time, and she looked around at some of the new office buildings and condos. Then after a while, she began to notice that they were in a rundown neighborhood. The streets were pocked with potholes. The sidewalks were cracked and littered with trash.
And the housing was all narrow Baltimore row houses, some with redbrick fronts, some with vinyl siding, and some with the ugly formstone that had become popular in the fifties. Most of them also had the famous marble steps that were a hallmark of the city. And a few sported the window screens painted with outdoor scenes, the likes of which Olivia had never seen anywhere else.
There were people on the streets. She saw a few children playing and a few moms watching them. But there were more residents that didn’t fit the family mold. Young men in baggy jeans and T-shirts were huddled on some of the corners, and women strolled around wearing revealing costumes like low-cut tops and skirts up to their crotches.
Olivia turned to Max. “Am I seeing drug deals go down—and prostitutes strutting their stuff?”
“Yeah.”
She clasped her hands together as she watched the depressing scenery roll past. She’d lived in the Baltimore area until she graduated from high school, and she’d never seen this part of the city. Probably farmer Winters and his wife had never seen it, either. It was as removed from rural Howard County as the Middle East was from Switzerland. “And you spent a lot of time down here?” she asked Max.
“Yeah.”
“Is that how you got shot?”
“Uh-huh. But i
t’s more dangerous at night. We should be okay now.”
He had slowed, and she saw him look toward a townhouse where the first floor had been converted into a bar called Down and Dirty.
“Some of my contacts used to hang out there.” He turned toward her. “And now I’m wishing I’d insisted that you stay home.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he must have decided there was no point in arguing about something that they couldn’t change. Instead he turned the corner and drove slowly down the block. When he found a parking space between a pickup truck and a motorcycle, he pulled in and turned to her.
“I know how these people think. Let me do the talking.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t know what to say.”
He reached across her, unlocked the glove compartment and took out an automatic pistol, checked the safety, and tucked the weapon into the waistband under the light jacket he was wearing.
“I thought you said we’d be okay in daylight,” she said.
“Down here, it’s best to be prepared.”
He stayed close to her as they walked back along the cracked sidewalk to Down and Dirty.
Max pushed the door open, and they both paused as the atmosphere hit them with an almost physical force. Inside, the room was dimly lit, the air was heavy with cigarette smoke and the smell of beer, and loud music played on an old-fashioned jukebox. Immediately, Olivia’s eyes began to water.
“I thought it was illegal to smoke in a bar in Maryland,” she whispered.
“It is.”
“But…”
“It’s not worth the trouble to send cops to enforce that kind of law. And nobody in here is complaining.”
Olivia was. She hadn’t breathed so much smoke since—well probably since some of those high school parties.
She peered through the thick air, seeing that the bar was lined with both men and women, and many of the wooden tables and chairs were also occupied. Apparently it was a popular place for people who had nothing else to do in the middle of the day.
Max had adopted a casual stance as he also looked around the room.
A woman with ratty blond hair at one of the tables saw him, did a double take, and got up. She headed toward them, her hips swaying. From her skimpy outfit, she looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, until Olivia got a look at her face, which was so lined that it was impossible for her to put her makeup on smoothly.
She spared Olivia a quick glance, then dismissed her and focused on Max.
“As I live and breathe, Max Lyon. I heard you were dead.”
“I’m hard to kill, Tonya.”
“Haven’t seen you in ages, lover boy.”
Chapter 22
The suggestive tone of the greeting made Max’s stomach clench, but he figured Tonya was doing it for Olivia’s benefit. He and the prostitute had never been intimate, but she’d been one of his best informants. And he’d tried to take care of her, giving her some protection and also paying her well for the information she supplied. He hadn’t seen her since he’d gone off the job, and she looked like she’d aged ten years in the meantime. Unfortunately, that was often the way with working girls. The profession took an enormous toll, particularly for the ones who plied their trade out on the street. They were vulnerable to beatings and disease. They were often on drugs. And forget proper nutrition.
He noted that the woman’s hair was a tangle of bleached blond ringlets around her head, and her tight dress barely covered the intimate parts of her body. She gave Olivia a casual glance, then switched her total attention back to Max.
“Long time no see,” she drawled.
“I’ve been busy.”
“What are you doin’ slumming now?”
“I was shot. After I recovered, I switched from the force to a PI agency. I’m on a case.” He gestured toward Olivia. “Ms. Winters hired us.”
Tonya gave Olivia a second look. “Don’t I know you?”
Max had told Olivia he’d do the talking, but when she gave him a quick look, he nodded.
“I do some modeling,” she said in a low voice.
“Yeah, that’s right. And now you want to find out how the other half lives?”
Olivia shook her head. “No. My best friend was murdered, and I need Max to figure out who did it.” It wasn’t exactly true. She and Angela had grown apart since high school, but she figured the best friend part would have some impact.
Tonya snorted. “And I’ll bet the cops are useless.”
Olivia nodded in agreement. “It looks like it.”
Max had let the women talk for a few moments. Now he jumped back into the conversation. “Honey, you’re not saying I was useless when I used to work down here, are you?”
“Not you, baby. But most of ’em, you know.”
“I’m hoping you can help me solve a puzzle we’ve run into.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s sit down, and I’ll buy you a drink.”
She flicked a glance at Olivia. “And then we can have a hot threesome?”
When Olivia drew in a quick breath, Tonya cackled. “Relax, darling, I know Max is too much of a straight arrow for anything like that. He had plenty of opportunities to get into trouble down here, but he never took advantage of them.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he murmured. “Why don’t we go back to your table, if that’s okay?”
“Sure.”
She threaded her way through the crowd, and Max reached for Olivia’s hand as they followed. She held on to him with a tight grip, and he was pretty sure she was rethinking her decision to come slumming with him, especially since several rough-looking guys were eyeing her with interest.
Back at the table, Tonya plopped into a seat, and Max and Olivia followed suit. He knew some of the other people in the bar remembered him from his days on the vice squad, but they also knew he’d disappeared from the force. And they would follow the unspoken rule of minding their own business, unless their self-interest was involved.
“How about that drink?” Tonya said.
“Sure.”
“Champagne.”
He laughed. “Nice try. How about your old favorite, a shot of Jack Daniels with a beer chaser.”
“Fair enough.”
He looked at Olivia. “You want your usual?”
She blinked, then nodded.
“Will you girls be okay alone for a few minutes?”
When they both said yes, he recrossed the room, standing half turned away from the bar so he could keep an eye on them while he ordered the bourbon and a beer chaser for Tonya and soda water with ice for himself and Olivia. Asking for a tray, he carried the drinks back to the table and discovered that the women were talking about hair products. Good for Olivia.
Tonya downed her Jack Daniels, then sipped the beer while he and Olivia both took a sip of the soda water.
When Tonya had drunk half her beer, Max said, “Olivia told you her best friend was murdered. But it wasn’t just her. There are others who also bought the farm. Most of those people were at a certain party. It broke up because one of the guys got reckless and shot off a gun.”
The working girl winced. “He killed someone?”
“Actually, no,” Max said. “But he screwed up the party scene, and two of the guys weren’t ready to call it a night. We’ve heard that they came down here and that something bad happened.”
“When was this?” Tonya asked.
“In the spring.” Max named the date.
The informant laughed. “Oh come on. And you expect me to remember something that happened down here ten years ago?”
“Not under ordinary circumstances,” Max agreed. “But in this case, I think it was something memorable. Something people were talking about. Something that would stick in your mind—if you knew about it.”
Tonya leaned back in her chair, thinking, and he was pretty sure she did have some information—which she wasn’t goi
ng to give up for free. “Something very bad,” she mused.
“Yeah.”
“Like murder?”
Max let the words hang in the air.
She looked around, like the people at the other tables might be listening to the conversation. As far as Max could see, they were all absorbed in their own business.
When he didn’t say more, she filled the silence. “I can’t give out information like that for free.”
“I understand.” He got out his wallet and pulled out two fifties, which he passed across the table.
She took the money and tucked it into the purse that hung from her shoulder. “You want me to tell you about a murder for a hundred dollars,” she said.
He added another fifty. “You know something. Tell us what it is.”
“I did hear something, but secondhand, you know. It’s Julie who’ll be able to tell you more.”
“Who is Julie?”
“The gal who didn’t get killed, you know.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll have to ask her about it.”
“Can she come here?”
“Not likely. She’s in a bad way, but I can take you to her,” Tonya said.
“A bad way?”
“She’s sick. With some lung thing.”
Max weighed his options. Likely he was going to have to pay this Julie, too. It might turn out to be a wild-goose chase, but if the woman really did know what had happened after the party, this could be their big break.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Tonya stood. “Sure. It’s quicker if we go the back way.”
They followed her down the hall, past the kitchen and the restrooms, through a door, and into an alley that smelled of cheap whiskey and garbage. Max drew his gun and held it down by his side as they proceeded along the uneven pavement, then crossed a narrow street and continued up the alley. The trash was thicker here, and the backyards of the row houses were walled off by board or chain-link fences, many of which looked like they could have been pushed over by a strong wind.
Olivia glanced at him, and he gave her a reassuring look. Tonya might seem like she would do anything for money, but she’d always been straight with him. Besides, she hadn’t known he was going to step back into her life, and she hadn’t gone off to make a phone call before leading them out of the bar. Still, he wished again that Olivia were tucked safely away.
