Elly. Although that’s what she’d asked them to call her, it was interesting that Morgan was still referring to her as that. “You learn anything else?”
Stupid. He didn’t want to know anything more about her.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it wasn’t true. Fact was, he did want to know more about her.
And that was the problem.
Morgan pulled into the entrance to the underground parking garage beneath the precinct. After sliding his access card, he punched in a code on the keypad and the gate in front of them jolted open.
“She said she got to town about six weeks ago, found the center, and started volunteering there.”
“You find out where she’s from?” He wasn’t sure why it mattered, but couldn’t help asking anyway.
“Hephzibah, I think she said. Never heard of it before but she said it’s up north.”
Hephzibah? He’d never heard of it either. Sounded almost Middle Eastern. Not that Elly appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent, not with that red hair. “Is that an island? A city? A country?”
“A country, I think. She said it’s really small.” Morgan shifted into park and killed the engine.
“Why’d she leave?” Pushing open the door, Zander stepped into the damp air of the parking structure.
“Didn’t ask.” Morgan blazed the way to the elevator.
As the elevator slowly chugged up to the third floor, he slanted a glance at Morgan. “Is she here legally?”
“Tourist visa.”
Weird. A tourist who spent her days volunteering at the local youth center and lived on a boat.
And heard messages from God. Couldn’t forget that little tidbit.
Sounded like a flight risk if he’d ever heard of one.
Maybe it was time to dig a little deeper into Eliana Levi.
₪ ₪ ₪
Celestine Montoya clicked her long acrylic nails as she stared at the man standing on the other side of her desk. She said nothing as Hector fidgeted, shifting his weight from right to left and back again.
“I, uh…” Hector cleared his throat. “That is–”
“Enough.” Planting her glittery black fingernails on the desk, she slowly rose to her full five foot seven height, which was still a good four inches shorter than the sniveling man across from her. “I trusted you. But you lost forty-five thousand dollars’ worth of product. And you bring me nothing but excuses?”
“It wasn’t my fault! It was–”
“I don’t care.” The words were tight and measured. “You assured me you could handle it and now I’ve had to clean up the mess you made.”
She paused, locking him in her cold glare. “Although I still see one very loose end remaining.”
Hector’s face turned whiter than the pristine carpet beneath his feet. “No. I’ll make it right! I swear!”
In spite of this failure, Hector was a valuable asset to her organization. He’d come through more than he’d let her down.
Yet he needed to know she wasn’t some pushover. Not like her brothers.
She crossed her arms over her chest, the thin silk of her blouse soft beneath her fingers. Several long seconds dragged as she stared at him.
A sheen coated his forehead. “Please. Ms. Montoya. Gimme another chance. I won’t let you down.”
Yes, Hector was worthy of a second chance. “Seventy-two hours. The full amount, plus interest. Do not disappoint me again.”
“I won’t, I won’t! Thank you.”
Please.
She waved him away. Hector scurried from the room like it was on fire.
Settling back in her chair, she shifted so her tight leather skirt wouldn’t chafe her thighs. Movement in her peripheral drew her gaze to the room’s side door.
A large man stopped two steps into the room.
As expected. Ray always seemed to be around when she needed him.
“You heard?”
He nodded.
“See that he follows through on his commitment. If he doesn’t, you know what to do.”
The man disappeared without a word.
Three
The alarm’s incessant beeping penetrated nightmares filled with blonde hair and blood.
Zander slapped at the bedside clock, his fingers connecting with the correct button to silence the offending sound.
The room around him fell silent but the pounding in his head intensified as he opened his eyes, squinting against the early morning light.
“Ugh.”
It couldn’t be six already, could it?
He looked at the clock. The blue numbers confirmed it. He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and sat up in one jerky movement.
The world tipped. He buried his face in his hands.
Pain pulsed in his head, which felt too heavy for his shoulders. The fog swirling in his brain was thicker than the one encapsulating the city outside his window. His stomach churned like the wind-battered waters of the bay.
This was bad, even for him.
He pushed to his feet and staggered into the bathroom, retrieving some aspirin from the medicine cabinet and swallowing four dry.
Leaning heavily on the counter surrounding the sink, he waited for the dizziness to fade.
His gaze landed on the face staring back from the mirror.
Man. He was a mess.
Heavy rings hung beneath his dark brown eyes, evidencing the short night. What time had he gotten in last night?
Who knew? It’d been after midnight before he left O’Keefe’s but he didn’t remember the two block walk home. Just like he didn’t remember how many he’d had or how much it’d cost him.
He closed his eyes against the sad image in front of him. Why did he do this to himself?
Well, no time to worry about that now.
He stripped down and stepped into the shower, the cool water jolting him fully awake but doing little to clear his head.
Ten minutes later he was dried, dressed, and smoothing gel onto his short black hair.
After running a razor along the stubble lining his jaw, he weighed his reflection again.
Not great, but then again it never was.
A microwaved sausage and egg biscuit and a cup of strong coffee at least made him feel human again.
His cell rang as he stepped out the door of his apartment. The caller ID showed his madre.
He knew better than to reject the call, but silenced the ring. Likely would still invoke a lecture later on, but he didn’t have time to deal with her right now.
Probably just calling to complain about one of his sisters or tell him about some nice girl she’d met at church.
Or check to make sure he hadn’t gotten shot yesterday.
The drawback of being the only son left in the family. She was always checking on him.
And it’d only gotten worse since Laura had left him.
He hit the underground parking garage and headed for his car.
The shiny blue Mustang gleamed in the florescent overhead lighting. At least he’d gotten to keep that in the divorce.
Two years. How long would the failure of his marriage haunt him?
The uneventful drive gave him time to push all thoughts of Laura and the divorce from his mind.
Morgan looked up as he dropped his keys on his desk. “‘Bout time you got here.”
Zander stared pointedly at the white clock on the wall. 7:56. “Just because I don’t sleep at my desk…?”
A grunt answered him. Morgan slid something toward him.
He picked up the single sheet of paper.
A sketch. Of a young woman, Asian, with straight black hair brushing her shoulders. Her cheeks were sunken and her large eyes stared hollowly from her unsmiling face.
“Monica?” He looked up at Morgan for confirmation.
“Provided to us by Eliana Levi.” Morgan dropped the name like a hand grenade and paused.
Probably waiting for the shrapnel to stick. Zander pressed hi
s lips together. “When did she come by?”
“Around seven this morning, I guess. Gave her statement then headed for the center.”
Seven, huh? Must be a morning person.
“You can’t tell me you aren’t interested.”
So he thought she was smokin’. Big deal. There were pretty women all around him. “She’s a witness.”
“Won’t always be.” Morgan crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “We both know how this’ll go. We’ll work the case for a few days, trail will go cold, we’ll get shifted to something else, and the case will stall. Happens all the time.”
Especially in cases like these. “Maybe we’ll get something from that video.”
“The lab didn’t get anything. Not even the emblem on that guy’s sleeve.” Morgan leaned forward, his eyes radiating sympathy.
Or pity, Zander wasn’t sure which.
“Look, kid, you gotta let go of Laura. She’s moved on. You should, too.”
Problem was, she’d moved on before she’d even moved out.
Too bad his marriage hadn’t imploded before he made detective. Then Morgan would never have found out all the gory details.
But nooo. Laura had to wait until almost a year after he made detective to let him know she’d been cheating on him and was filing for divorce. Some detective he’d turned out to be. He’d never even seen it coming.
“If not Elly, then someone else. I’ve seen that chick in evidence lock-up checking you out.”
Sure. “I’m doing all right on my own.”
“Uh-huh. That why you drink yourself to sleep every night?”
Was it that obvious? He clenched his jaw. “I’m here every day and doing my job. My private life is my own.”
Morgan held up his hands. “I hear you. I’m just concerned about you, that’s all.”
Enough of this. Zander tapped the sketch. “We get any hits in the system?”
Morgan took the redirect. “Nah. I’ve got a call to Jimmy down in vice, but if our girl’s new on the scene, he may not know her.”
“Maybe he’ll know something about our vic.”
“Top of my list.” The phone on Morgan’s desk shrilled. He glanced at the caller ID and reached for the receiver. “Well, speak o’ the devil. Jimmy, man, what’s up?”
Zander half-listened as he logged into his computer and ran through his inbox.
Nothing pressing.
Now might be a good time to look up Eliana Levi.
A check of social security and DMV records turned up nothing. Not that he’d expected it to. She wasn’t a citizen and, by all accounts, hadn’t even been in the country very long.
He broadened the search, even plugging her name into various search engines.
Nothing. Not even a social media presence.
In fact, according to the internet, she didn’t exist.
“Okay.” Morgan’s voice drew his attention away from the computer screen. “So Jimmy doesn’t know either our vic or Monica. He’s got a contact on the streets he wants to talk to, then he’ll get back to us.”
An informant might be able to provide good information. “In the meantime, maybe we should cruise the streets. Talk to some of the ladies and see if any of them can help us find our girl.”
Morgan nodded his agreement. “This afternoon. Probably wouldn’t find too many of them around this early in the day.”
True enough. That’d give him time to review the evidence gathered from the scene and read the responding officer’s report. Maybe he’d see something he missed.
₪ ₪ ₪
Two hours. Not that they had anything to show for their efforts.
Zander rolled his neck until it cracked, releasing the tension in his vertebrae. They’d driven up every street in a five mile radius of the youth center, talked to every homeless person, prostitute, and drug dealer they’d seen, and found no one who would claim to know Monica.
The girl wasn’t a ghost. So where was she?
Now they were in one of the rougher neighborhoods, one of those where someone could be shot for just being there. Bars covered the windows of the various businesses they cruised by. Metal gates propped next to the doors, ready to be closed and locked at the touch of dusk.
Homeless camped in alleys on both sides of the road. Streetwalkers of both sexes outnumbered the people walking down the streets.
A flash of copper caught his eye. Curls bounced in the breeze, contrasted sharply against a sweater the color of tropical waters.
Was that…?
No. It couldn’t be. His hormones had him seeing her…
As they drifted by, he craned his neck.
Elly.
What the heck was she doing in this neighborhood?
“Stop the car.”
Morgan sidled up to the curb, his gaze scanning the street. “You see her?”
“No. I see someone who shouldn’t be here.”
He pushed open the door and strode down the block, his eyes constantly moving.
Several prostitutes watched him. Even from here, he could feel their hunger. They wanted him to be a customer, not a cop. And since he wasn’t in uniform, they didn’t know otherwise.
They might be able to provide him some solid intel, but his first priority was getting Elly off the streets.
What was she thinking? Did she really have no idea how dangerous it was for her to be walking around by herself down here?
She stood beside a solidly-built blonde who, despite the heavy make-up, teased hair, and feminine clothing, might not be a woman after all. Zander wasn’t too sure and in this city, you just never knew.
“…she just lost her best friend and I’m so worried about her.” Elly’s voice filtered into his thoughts as he drew closer. “If you see her, can you please have her come to the youth center? I want to help.”
He waited for the snarky response he was sure was coming.
But the blonde just nodded. “I’ll do that, hon.”
“Oh, thank you! God bless you.” Elly placed a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “How can I pray for you?”
Oh, please. He cleared his throat. “Ms. Levi? A word?”
She turned to him, her lips curving, revealing a shockingly-white smile. “Detective Salinas. Good to see you. This is Sugar and she was–”
“Excuse us.” He offered a tight-lipped smile to Sugar as he cupped Elly’s elbow and led her away.
Was anyone really so clueless?
It only took a glance at Elly’s face to answer that one.
Yes, yes she really was.
“What are you doing?” He kept his tone level, in spite of the fact that he wanted to throttle her.
“Looking for Monica. She must be so scared.”
“You should be scared.”
She stopped, her arm sliding from his fingers when he kept walking. “Me? How do you figure?”
He stepped closer and dropped his voice. “This is one of the worst areas of town. It’s not safe for a woman to be down here alone, especially…”
Someone like you.
He bit the words back. That wasn’t something he cared to explain. She radiated innocence and naiveté like no one he’d ever met. Combine that with her looks and she’d be easy picking for any lowlife.
“I’m not alone. The Lord is with me.”
And that right there was why she’d be an easy mark. “Yeah, well unless He’s packing heat, I don’t think He can help you down here.”
“Packing heat?” Her eyebrows drew together.
“Never mind.” Movement snagged his attention to an alley off to his left.
Three men, each in a black shirt with some kind of oversized logo and baggy jeans, sauntered toward them. All had shaved heads and a scorpion tattoo wrapping around their necks.
Aw, crud.
He’d hoped to avoid a run-in with any Stingers gang members today, even though they were deep in Stingers territory.
Two of the men evaluated him silently, their ey
es sizing him up, but the third man’s eyes devoured Elly.
The man closest to him cracked his knuckles. “You look a little lost, homie.”
He shifted his shirt so they could see the badge and gun clipped to his belt. “Salinas, SFPD. Looking for a witness.”
If the badge fazed him, the thug didn’t show it. “Don’ think you’ll find no witnesses down here.”
“Her name is Monica.” Elly’s voice was way too perky. “She’s about fourteen and she, um, works these streets.”
The thug stared at Elly. Probably wondering why she wasn’t shaking in her strappy sandals.
That made two of them.
“Salinas.” Morgan’s voice came from behind him. “Everything good here?”
The three men never moved, even as their eyes shifted to Morgan.
“Yeah, we’re cool.” At least he hoped they were. Although now that the men saw that he had backup, maybe they’d be less likely to start something.
“Monica’s about this tall,” Elly held her hand around nose level, “and she has black hair–”
“I have a sketch.” Zander reached in his pocket.
These guys weren’t going to tell them a thing, but Elly seemed determined to ask. Showing the picture would be the fastest way to end this so he could get her out of this neighborhood before someone took a shot at them.
Pulling the sketch from his pocket, he unfolded it and handed it to the man closest to him.
The man barely glanced at it before handing it back. “Can’t say I’ve seen her, but I don’t need to pay money for a chick.”
Zander refolded the sketch and nodded. “Thank you for your time.”
Without waiting for a reply, because one wouldn’t be coming, he grabbed Elly’s elbow and herded her in front of him. Morgan fell into step on her other side.
The sooner they got to the car, the better.
“But Detective Salinas, there are still other people–”
“Ms. Levi.” He kept his tone low and firm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
They reached the car and he opened the back door for her.
Staring at him, she made no move to get in. “Surely someone knows Monica. I’m going to talk to some of these other people.”
“Not gonna happen. Please get in.” He shifted to stand behind the door so he could keep the Stingers members in his sight.
Silent is the Grave Page 3
