by T. R. Ragan
Kitally nodded. “Did you ever see License to Kill? Bond used explosive toothpaste. I was intrigued.”
Lizzy gave Hayley a disparaging look. She had no words.
Apparently neither did Hayley.
“Any other hidden talents?” Lizzy asked.
Kitally pursed her lips as she thought about it. “Many. Kali would be number one.”
“Kali?”
“Stick and knife fighting, a form of martial art that favors deflection followed by a fast counterattack. Also, computer hacking and engineering would be on the list.”
Lizzy figured the girl was toying with her now, pulling her leg. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“High school diploma?”
“I have a master of science in engineering from Princeton.”
“Well, who doesn’t?”
Kitally just stared flatly at her.
Hayley said, “She’s not bullshitting you.”
Lizzy looked from Kitally to Hayley and back again. “How is that possible?”
“I graduated from high school at the age of fourteen.” Kitally frowned. “I never did make it into the YEGS hall of fame, though.”
“YEGS hall of fame?
“Young Exceptionally Gifted Students.”
Hayley gave Lizzy a look that said I told you so.
“So you went from Princeton to jail, all in the space of five years?”
“It wasn’t jail, it was a detention center and I wasn’t there for long. Princeton was a breeze and besides, I’m really good at multitasking.”
Lizzy closed her eyes and took a breath, then let it out. “Just because you got lucky at McBane’s house,” Lizzy told her, “that doesn’t mean you can enter a house with guns blazing . . . or machetes . . . and get away with it. I have clients to worry about, not to mention my reputation.”
“I get it.”
“Why this job? From the sounds of it, you could do anything you choose.”
Kitally shrugged. “For now, I choose this.”
Lizzy wasn’t sure she wanted to know the real reason why someone as gifted as Kitally would want to work for minimum wage doing PI work, so she didn’t push it. “What do you think, Jessica?”
“If Hayley thinks you should hire her, then she has my vote.”
Lizzy felt like she had just entered the twilight zone. Jessica and Hayley never agreed on anything.
Jessica looked at her watch. “I have to go.” She placed a torn picture from a magazine on the desk in front of Lizzy. “I thought this would be a perfect bridesmaid dress.”
Kitally whistled through her teeth. “I like it.”
Lizzy held up the picture for Hayley to see. “What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in that thing.”
“Everyone can wear their own version of the dress,” Jessica explained.
“Cool,” Kitally said as if she was already one of the gang. “You would look great in this, Hayley. I could cut the sleeves and fix the décolletage, you know, give it more of a street chic look.”
“You sew, too?” Lizzy asked.
Kitally looked bewildered. “Doesn’t everyone?”
CHAPTER 21
The first thing Dr. Madeline Blair did when she walked into work the next morning and saw blood dripping down the middle of the receptionist’s face was let out a high-pitched squeak. It took Madeline a second to recall that today was Halloween.
Cindy picked up a butcher knife and stabbed it into the air, replaying the scene from Psycho, complete with her own rendition of crazy background music.
“Very funny,” Madeline said after drawing in a deep breath. “Do I have any calls from David Westlake?” After his last call in to her show, her ratings skyrocketed and she had David to thank for it. She’d left a message on his cell phone at the beginning of the week, but he had yet to call her back. She was dying to let him know what a big difference he made. She owed him big-time.
Cindy’s eyes grew round. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“I saw it on the news this morning. Mr. Westlake has been missing for a few days now. They found his car parked at his work, but nobody has seen him.”
Stunned, Madeline didn’t know what to say.
“Dr. Blair,” the receptionist called before Madeline could slip her key in the electronic device to get into the main part of the building. She held up an envelope. “I have something for you.”
Madeline took the envelope, and then swiped her card to get to her office. She passed the control room where the board operator was preparing for a show, then stepped inside her office and shut the door behind her. David couldn’t possibly be missing. Where would he go? She shuffled through her purse, found her cell phone and called his wife.
“Debra, it’s Madeline. The receptionist told me she saw something on the news about David missing. What’s going on?”
“Listen, Madeline. I’m talking to a detective right now. I’ll have to call you back.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Take the girls to school for you?”
“My parents have the girls. I’ll call you later.”
Madeline disconnected and put her phone to the side. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She turned on her computer and read through her contact list for the number of David’s good friend John. He was shocked by the news, but he hadn’t seen David in over a month. She made a dozen more calls just like that one. Nobody had seen David.
Her gaze settled on the envelope. Wondering if it could be from David, she ripped it open and pulled out a note. Every letter was a different size and color, carefully cut out from a magazine: I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.
Her insides tightened. She examined the note and the envelope closely, but there was nothing to clue her in as to who might have made the note. She grabbed her key card and walked back to the receptionist’s desk. “Could you tell me who delivered the envelope you gave me?”
“I have no idea. It was here on my desk when I arrived this morning.”
“Did you see anyone outside when you drove up?”
The receptionist shook her head. “What’s going on, Dr. Blair?”
“Nothing. Never mind. Please let me know right away if anything else comes in for me.”
“Yes, of course. Are you sure you’re OK?”
Without giving her an answer, Madeline went back to her office. Her phone was ringing. It was Debra. She hit talk and asked, “Did they find him?”
“The police want to talk to you, Madeline.”
“Yes, of course. I can come to your house right now.”
“No. Not here.” Debra’s tone was flat, emotionless.
“What’s going on?”
“They have a few questions, that’s all. Detective Chase is right here and he’d like to talk to you.”
Debra handed the phone over before she could protest.
“I can be at your office at two o’clock on Monday afternoon,” Detective Chase said in a gruff voice. “Does that work for you?”
Madeline looked at all the papers scattered across her desk. “I would prefer to meet you at my house.” After he agreed, she gave him her address and the call ended.
Madeline didn’t know what to think. What was going on? She couldn’t imagine where David might have gone. Had he and Debra squabbled? If so, where would he go? David used to spend weekends fishing. Maybe things weren’t going well at work or at home and he’d decided to pack up and spend some time with his thoughts. But why wouldn’t he tell someone where he was going?
Her current line of thinking prompted her to think about her neighbor Chris. She had been so busy lately, so worried about her ratings and her career, that she’d hardly given Chris much thought. A few days ago, she’d stopped by his house on the way
home from work. Since he didn’t answer the door, she’d assumed he was visiting his daughter. At the time, it hurt her a little to think he wasn’t able to take a minute to call her and let her know when he would be back. She looked at her calendar now and realized she hadn’t talked to Chris in weeks.
Her heart raced in earnest.
She tried to recall whether Chris had ever talked to her about other family members or friends in the area, but it was no use; she drew a blank.
She gave the cryptic, creepy note one last glance before placing it inside her purse. On her way out, she told the receptionist she would be back in time for her show. She needed to take a ride and calm herself down. David was fine, she told herself. Chris, too.
CHAPTER 22
Hayley rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then looked at the clock on the nightstand: ten o’clock. It took her a minute to figure out that it was Saturday. She hadn’t fallen asleep until well past two.
The sheets twisted beneath her as she turned over. Her arm dangled over the side of the bed. She might have fallen back to sleep if Dog hadn’t walked over and put his slobbery tongue on her bare arm.
“Knock it off, Dog.”
He barked.
“OK, OK.” She got up, put on a pair of sneakers and a sweatshirt, then grabbed the dog’s leash and headed outside. Before she could clip the leash to his collar, Dog ran down the stairs and disappeared around the corner of the building.
Becca was sitting on her porch step, smoking a cigarette. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked Hayley.
“Dog is messing with my lifestyle.”
“Is that his name?”
“I let Hudson name him,” Hayley said.
“Great. Ever since you got that mutt, Hudson won’t stop badgering me. He wants a dog, too.”
“You can have this one.”
“No, thanks.”
Hayley turned her face toward the sky. “A little sunshine. It’s about time.”
“I haven’t thanked you yet for paying off my debt.”
Hayley didn’t need or want to be thanked, so she said nothing.
“I got a job downtown. I’m a barista. Pretty fancy, huh?”
“Impressive. Where’s Hudson?”
“He’s looking around the house for loose change. We need milk.”
“Hey, Hudson,” Hayley called out. “Walk me and Dog to the store and I’ll buy you some milk and a doughnut.”
Hudson came running. The screen door slammed shut behind him.
“Can I go with her?”
Becca exhaled a thick stream of smoke. “Sure, yeah, you two have fun.”
Dog was already galloping around in the park by the time they caught up to him.
“If Mom says I can have Dog,” the kid said, “can he be my dog?”
“Might as well be. I don’t want him.”
“Mom won’t like it.”
“As long as I feed Dog and let Dog sleep at my house, I think she’ll be fine with it.”
Hudson looked hopeful. “Maybe she’ll let Dog sleep over sometimes.”
“Maybe.”
“Mom hasn’t been yelling so much lately.”
“Have you been doing your chores?”
He wrinkled his nose.
“If you clean your room and help cook dinner sometimes, I bet you she’ll let Dog sleep over.”
“Did your husband run away, too?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t want one.”
“Maybe the boys are afraid of your knives.”
“Could be.”
The kid didn’t usually talk much, but today was the exception. He asked another fifty questions by the time they bought groceries and headed back across the park toward home.
Hayley led the dog and carried the groceries while Hudson enjoyed his maple doughnut. When the kid looked up at her, his face was covered with a thin coating of sticky maple glaze. He looked happy and for a moment Hayley forgot about everything rotten in her life.
Dog barked at something or someone behind her. Hudson looked back toward the market, pointed, and said, “Who’s that?”
Hayley looked over her shoulder. Her heart dropped to her stomach. A tall guy, big boned, with tree trunks for legs, was coming their way. His gait was steady, his gaze unflinching, both hands hidden within the front pockets of a zippered jacket. His face was unreadable. No expression whatsoever. He looked like a man on a mission.
She and Kitally had spent the past three nights passing out cards, letting every goon in Sacramento know they were offering a cash reward for any tip leading to Brian’s whereabouts. She knew it was only a matter of time before Brian got word. She just hadn’t thought she’d hear from one of his messengers so soon. She needed to get the kid moving.
“Come on, Hudson. Let’s get you home.” She handed him the leash. “Let’s see if Dog can run faster than you.”
Hudson loved to run. And that’s all it took to get him going.
She glanced over her shoulder again. The man began to jog.
Hudson was having too much fun. He wasn’t taking the game seriously enough. A cold chill ran through her. She gripped the kid’s shoulder. “Hudson. If you can make it back to the house in two minutes, I’m going to give you five dollars.”
“You swear?”
“I promise. Go! Now! Run!”
He ran so fast, she was afraid he might trip over his own feet. Dog ran after him, barely able to keep up with the kid.
Hayley didn’t bother running at all. She turned and waited for the man to catch up to her. She’d left her apartment so fast, she hadn’t brought anything with her. No knives, no Taser, no weapon of any kind, not even her stick.
So this would be it. She hadn’t planned to go out this way. For two years now, she envisioned being alone in a room with Brian. She’d planned to wait for him to make the first move, and when he did, she’d pull out her sticks, her knives, every weapon she had on her body. After he was dead, his friends would show up and she would claw and fight until her last breath; as long as Brian Rosie was dead, she could deal with that.
Hayley kept her gaze on the man’s face with an occasional glance to his hands, which were hidden within deep pockets. If the brute didn’t stop and shoot her, if he came up close enough, she might have a chance. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She was ready.
Six feet away from her, he stopped and stood stock-still.
Hudson and Dog were long gone.
Hayley stood motionless, feet apart, hands at her sides. If he pulled out a gun from where he stood, she would be too far away to do anything about it.
“Kristin Swift,” he said in a raspy voice.
“What?”
“Wolf sent me. He said you needed a name. It’s Kristin Swift.”
She let out a breath. Holy shit. “That’s it?”
“You’re not easy to find. Next time, you might want to leave a number or some way to reach you. I’ve been running around this city looking for you for two days.”
“Well, you found me.”
Leaving her with a grunt, he turned back the other way and walked off.
As Hayley watched him go, she realized she was losing her edge. She never should have walked out of the house unprepared. It wouldn’t happen again.
CHAPTER 23
Detective Chase was intimidating as all get-out. Tall and broad shouldered, he came across as ultraconfident and larger than life.
Uncharacteristically, Madeline felt like the complete opposite of confident—timid and apprehensive. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t relax. Her palms were sweaty and she found it difficult to catch her breath.
For
the past twenty minutes, the detective had sat on her leather ottoman, facing her straight on. He kept scribbling in his notebook after asking the same questions over and over, making the past five minutes feel like hours. He worded his questions in a way that tended to put her on the defensive. Simply put, Detective Chase was starting to piss her off. “David was my best friend,” she said in answer to his question about why she and David talked on the phone so often.
“You’ve said that.”
“I didn’t see you write it in that notebook of yours.”
“Debra Westlake told me the same thing—you and David were best friends. It’s all in the reports. Nothing for you to get worked up about.”
She let out a caustic breath. “If you think that’s worked up, you haven’t seen anything.”
He straightened, like a big, mean grizzly bear being challenged. “Is that right?”
Shit. Talk about putting her foot in her mouth. He was making her feel as if she should call a lawyer. “Listen,” she said in a calm voice. “More than anything, I want to help you find David, but I don’t understand how asking me the same question over and over is going to assist you in that endeavor.”
He ignored her statement and simply asked her another question. “Debra Westlake mentioned that you asked her husband to call in to your radio show recently. Can you tell me more about that?”
Damn. “No problem. David has listened to my shows for years and he sometimes calls in to ask questions to help get things moving along.”
“Moving along?”
“Yes, to get listeners involved. For instance, one time he called in to the show to ask about depression—”
“Was he depressed?” The detective scribbled in his notebook.
She gritted her teeth. “No. David was not depressed.”
“But he called in to your show to talk about depression.”
“That’s right. He was helping me out by pretending to be a caller and thus getting a conversation going about depression.”
“Who decided which subject he would talk about?”
“I really don’t remember. It could have been either of us. That really isn’t important.”
