by Stacy Green
“Why do you care?”
“Because he’s a Senator, and he’s all over TV with his task force stuff.” I pushed out a fake laugh. “Guess I’m a little starstruck.”
He snorted and then leaned in closer. “Don’t be. Senator Coleman’s no different from any politician. Two-faced. You just gotta know which one you’re dealing with.”
My instincts flared. “What do you mean?”
His gaze flashed over my shoulder, and he stepped quickly away. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“You have to give me your name, at least.” I stuck out my hand. “I’m Lily.”
He regarded my hand like I’d offered him poison. Before he could shake it, a hand closed over my shoulder. “His name’s Eric.” Preacher’s voice trembled with the authority he’d hinted at earlier. “And I’m sure he needs to get back to work. I know the Senator doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Eric nodded and then hurried down the hallway, disappearing into a side door.
“You ask a lot of questions.” Preacher’s fingertips pressed into my shoulder. I gently ducked away from him.
“I slammed into the poor kid and nearly knocked him down,” I said. “Figured the least I could do was flirt a little. Did you see him blush?”
Preacher seemed to consider this, staring at me with hardened eyes. I flashed him my sweetest smile. “Are you going to tell me your real name now?”
“Preacher’s all you need to know.”
“Come on.” I tapped my finger on the knot in his tie and licked my lips. “At least tell me how you got the nickname.”
“Next time,” he said. “If you decide to accept my offer, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
He wasn’t going to give me any more information, and my nerves were frayed to the point of disintegration. If I had to flirt with this piece of trash any more, I’d end up stabbing him with a steak knife. Or something sharper if I could get my hands on it.
Preacher motioned for me to lead the way, and I followed him through the darkened restaurant and into the even darker and frigid night. For the first time all winter, I welcomed the cold blast of air.
He zipped up his jacket, giving me a final once-over. “I’ll be waiting for your call.” He strutted away, hailing a cab at the end of the block.
Rooted to the spot, I watched the cherry taillights until they blended into rushing traffic. My head spun, and I inhaled the winter air until my lungs burned. It blew away the confusion and re-primed my senses. I was me again. Back to the agenda, leave the rest behind.
The Senator’s presence wasn’t altogether shocking. It stood to reason he’d know about a place like this. Were they both frequent customers? I couldn’t imagine the Senator coming into contact with Preacher unless the younger man’s involvement in the speakeasy was more than as just a patron.
More pieces to a very complicated jigsaw. The question was, how far would I have to go to fit them all together?
16
My body trembled with every pull of the trigger. Empty cartridges littered the floor around me. Sheer power rippled through my body. Envisioning the blue and white target as a living, breathing monster–the devil who’d ruined my sister and made her take her own life–helped ensure most of my shots landed center mass.
I reached for more bullets, but I’d already gone through the pack in less than twenty minutes.
“You out already?” Chris stepped out from the next partition. His safety goggles had a singe mark from a stray brass. “Want to buy another box?”
I rolled my neck and shoulders back, realizing how much tension had mounted since I’d started target practice, the opposite of the way it was supposed to work. I shook my head, putting my gun back in its safety box. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
I hadn’t reached the door of the shooting range before he caught up with me. “I’m good for today. You want to get some lunch?”
He held the door open, and we went back out into the gallery, returning our rented guns and earmuffs. I’d called Chris this morning because I thought going to the range would eliminate some of the stress last night caused, but I felt no better. Without the gun in my hands, I felt as confused and powerless as ever.
The cloud of apprehension and dishonesty hovering over me didn’t help matters. I’d have to tell Chris everything sooner rather than later.
“No,” I finally answered. I struggled with my coat, and Chris helped slip the bulky wool over my shoulders. Still holding on to the collar, he held my gaze until I felt bare and had to look away.
“You going to tell me what’s wrong? Did you hear any more from Todd?”
“No. I just … I need to tell you something.”
My confession came out in a carefully practiced rush: why I’d chosen to go alone, how safe I was, Preacher’s offer, and finally what I’d found out. “I should have told you, I know. But, he called, and it was a last minute thing.” I couldn’t tell the entire truth. He’d be disappointed in me, probably hurt. I didn’t want to see that. “So please don’t be too mad. Or be mad, but can you just wait a few minutes so I can talk about everything else?”
Chris’s unmoving gaze heated my skin. It was as if I were suddenly back in the girls’ locker room after gym, forced to strip and shower with the other girls who didn’t seem to mind being naked. Fixating on how my breasts didn’t look as nice as theirs, how my thighs were more round than the cheerleaders’. I always hunched my shoulders forward, as if that somehow protected them from seeing me.
I was doing the same thing now. I pushed them back.
“Are you going to have sex with Preacher?” He was suddenly a blustering storm cloud, the big, black kind that sweep in out of nowhere to lie in wait until the perfect moment to unleash torrential energy.
Feeling wobbly on my feet, I tried to gather myself. Consumed with everything else that happened last night, Preacher’s “test run” was the last thing on my mind. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“You can’t do that.” He continued to stare at me as though he could somehow project his fierce will into my consciousness. I pictured it wrapping around the synapses of my brain and embedding itself into my cellular makeup.
Shivering, I wrapped my hands around my chest. “Why? I’ve done worse.”
“No,” he said. “You haven’t. Lowering yourself to that level for information, that would be the absolute worst thing you could do to yourself.”
I didn’t know what to say. So I kept quiet and waited for his lecture. When it didn’t come, I finally cleared my throat. “I’m not sure what you want to hear from me.”
He kept staring, almost blankly, as if he’d stepped out of himself and his body was just a shell. Just as startling, he suddenly snapped back to himself. “I want to hear you say you won’t have sex with Preacher.”
“Fine, I won’t.” I didn’t plan to. But if it came down to being the only way to get information, I’d be forced to reconsider it. But saying that aloud to Chris was not a smart idea. Or a necessity.
He shook his head. “How am I supposed to believe you? You lied to me once. You said you wouldn’t meet with Preacher alone.”
“That wasn’t a lie. I told you, it happened quickly. I couldn’t risk turning him down.”
“You didn’t want me there.” He raised an eyebrow, his glare hollow and cold, daring me to challenge him.
I felt meek–my own out-of-body experience. “No, I didn’t. It was too risky.”
“Right.”
We stood at a standoff, invading each other’s personal space as only the most intimate of partners do.
I stepped back. “I can take care of myself. See you around.” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I rushed into the blistering cold before he could stop me. Icy air stole my breath, and I blinked at the crushing wind. Chris had just enough time to catch up to me and block my path.
“How can you even consider this?”
I blinked against the bitter air. “I can handl
e it.”
“You think so. But once he’s got you alone, who knows what will happen? How far you’ll allow yourself to go to get what you want?”
I brushed past him in search of my car. “That’s none of your business.”
“You’re my business.” He grabbed my arm, his strength throwing me off guard. “I’m your alibi, remember? Willing to lie for you. That makes you indebted to me.”
I yanked my arm away. “Which I intend on paying back as soon as I take care of this problem.”
“What? This trafficking thing? You think you’re going to bring that down?” He was on the verge of laughter. I wanted to dig my nails into his cheek.
“Kelly’s doing her best, digging around in the online depths. She’ll find something that points to this operation eventually. But until then, I’ve got Sarah’s death and Preacher to deal with. I’ll find out who’s in charge. Maybe Riley and some of those kids will have a way out.”
“Sure. As if it will all work out happily ever after.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that this isn’t just a few people, Lucy. This is a network that’s bigger than you, and you’re never going to find them all. Banging some worker bee for information isn’t the answer.”
My teeth were clenched against cold and rage. “Good thing that’s not for you to decide.” I turned again to walk away.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Chris kept the pace. I wished he would slip on the ice-covered parking lot. My eyes teared from the wind. Where the hell was my car?
“You’re running in circles with this, and you know it.”
“We’ve had this discussion.”
“And we’re having it again.”
I stopped again, searching. Finally I spotted the Prius in the opposite direction. I turned on my heel and started marching forward.
“Look, I appreciate your concern. But I don’t need you to be my moral center, okay?”
He held up his hands in a sign of defeat. “Fine. It’s all about what you need, anyway. So what it is you want from me? What am I supposed to tell you?”
“I wanted to know what you thought of the information I had,” I said. “About the Senator being at Ward 8 and the busboy knowing both him and Preacher. I think I’m missing something, and it can’t be just the Senator’s involvement.”
“Why not?” He asked. “People lead double lives all the time. Look at you. You lie to friends and enemies alike.”
His guilt trip crawled onto my skin like a filthy mite and made a nest. I didn’t have time for that sort of thing. Guilt is for the weak. “That’s not fair.”
“Probably not, but I’m not taking it back. Not right now.”
“Whatever.” I unlocked my car, fumbling with the ignition. I’d figure things out on my own. Easier than being held accountable to someone for my every thought and decision.
Chris rapped his knuckles on my window. I shook my head. He rapped again.
“Asshole.” I dug my fingertip into the button to roll the window down. “What?”
“You want to know what I think?” He asked.
I shrugged. Damned if I’d admit that his opinion mattered now.
“I think there are no coincidences, and you need to walk away from this before it gets a lot worse.”
If I were an alcoholic I’d head for the bar right now. Shame coated my skin, resentment filled my head. I needed Chris in my life. And yet sometimes I wished he’d never approached me. No matter what he’d said earlier, his allegiance was unconditional. The thought warmed me, yet also brought a needling despair. With Kelly safely hidden behind her computer, I never answered to anyone. Now I’d somehow put myself in the position of both needing Chris’s help and having to ask for his moral permission. As if I needed his consent. I didn’t want to operate that way, but the fault was my own. Using him as my alibi had been selfish and stupid. But he’d come through as I knew he would, moral baggage and all. But did that give him the right to be the voice of my conscience?
My hand cramped from shooting. I eased my grip on the steering wheel and took the exit to Northern Liberties. Sleep is what I needed. My brain could reset and approach the problem rationally. I’d find a solution, just as I always did.
17
Parking in Northern Liberties was brutal in the winter, and my cheeks were chapped and frozen by the time I reached the door to my building. Inside the lobby, trying to shake off the cold and fatigue, I didn’t see Detective Todd Beckett until he stepped out from behind the row of mailboxes.
“Nastiest day yet.”
I stumbled back into the wall. “Good God. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry about that. It’s too cold to wait outside. I needed to speak with you in person.”
Suspicion roiled through me. “About what?”
He didn’t waste time. Our relationship had long progressed past the bullshitting stage. “Several green fibers were found with Sarah’s body. Our lab believes them to be cashmere.”
An icy sensation spiderwebbed down my back as Todd continued. “Witnesses at Exhale and at Maisy’s stated you were wearing a green dress, and more than one believed it to be cashmere. The girl at Exhale specifically remembered it because you normally dressed very…drab. That was the word she used.”
So my vanity had royally screwed me over. “All right.”
“So I need the dress. For fiber analysis.” He showed me the signed warrant.
“You know we interacted, and her body was found near my desk. The fibers being a match aren’t a stretch.”
Todd fluffed his hair, the roots damp. “But these were found mixed in with her blood. Unless they migrated from her dress to the gaping wound in the back of the head, it doesn’t look good for you.”
Confusion and panic mixed together for a heady cocktail. I hadn’t killed Sarah. The green fibers might not match. But what if they did? It was enough to arrest me, maybe even take me to trial. Circumstantial evidence had done plenty of people in.
Images of my apartment made me dizzy. Everything was hidden. They’d never find my stash of poison and other supplies. My head cleared. “Let me see it, please.”
I read the orders carefully. “You’re allowed to recover the dress only.”
“Of course. What else would I look for?”
I said nothing. I didn’t need to. The implication hung between us, impairing my ability to think straight. Todd finally jerked a nod. “I’ll follow you.”
The air inside the elevator steamed with tension. My chest felt as if it would crack from the imaginary weight bearing down on it. “There’s more to this.”
Todd leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator. “Excuse me?”
“Something you’re not telling me.”
He smiled grimly. “There’s lots I don’t tell you.”
“I’m talking about Sarah’s murder. Downstairs, when you said your boss wanted it solved yesterday, you weren’t looking me in the eyes. You always look me in the eyes.”
He sighed, leaning toward me, his fingers outstretched. I froze as he moved a lock of hair off my face. “You give me too much credit.”
Neither one of us spoke again until we reached my door.
“It’s not the cleanest.” I turned the key, hoping my hand wasn’t shaking. “I left in a hurry this morning.”
Todd slipped on a pair of blue, latex gloves. “I’m not inspecting your hygiene. By the way, the Senator was happy to hand over the phone you stole from Sarah once he found out it was part of a murder investigation. He also gave me a copy of all the legwork you’ve done. Interesting. You really believe she was involved.”
I refused to play his game. “I’ll just get the dress. It’s in the laundry.”
“Perfect.”
“I’m sorry to say, it doesn’t have any blood stains.” I headed for the bedroom, thinking about the compartment in my bedroom closet. My neck muscles felt tight as rope, my insides a maze of painful knots. The compartme
nt was in the closet, behind a shoe rack, and barely visible even to me. Todd wouldn’t see it. He had no right to search as long as I gave him the dress. Everything would be fine.
Mousecop started up from the bed when Todd entered the room. He ambled to the corner and eyed the detective with suspicion. At least someone was on my side.
“Fat cat,” Todd said.
“He’s healthy.” I moved to the bathroom, but Todd caught my arm.
“I’d like to get it myself.”
My jaw tightened. I pointed to the door. “It’s in the wicker hamper. Halfway down. Please keep your hands off my delicates.”
He had the decency to look embarrassed.
My mind wandered to every criminal case I’d ever read. Most of the prolific ones who believed they were smarter than the police were all caught by silly mistakes or blind luck.
Would my story end with blind luck?
Not that I was like any of those criminals. I didn’t stalk the innocent. My killing had a purpose. I made society safer. And I certainly wasn’t drawn in by the thrill of the hunt. No, it was a duty. A necessary evil.
I grew short of breath. My legs jerked with the urge to defend myself. I sat down on the bed, refusing to look at the bathroom.
“How’s Justin?” I had to say something, distract myself somehow. “Still seeing that girl?”
A muffled shuffling came from behind the bathroom door. “Fine. And yes as far as I know. What about you?”
“What?”
“You and Chris? Since you were with him the night Sarah Jones was murdered.”
I blew out a hard breath, trying to think of the right response. All I could see was my little storage cache. Insulin and cyanide and needles and the ketamine I’d bought just a few weeks ago. Todd was too close. “I don’t discuss my personal life with someone trying to pin a murder on me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Todd called back. “I’m trying to solve a murder.”
“You might want to look in the right place then.”
His footsteps made my heart pound. Why was he walking so fast?
