by Stacy Green
She looked between the two of us, anger and fear crawling over her skin. “You’re going to get me killed.” She fell back into her seat.
“Now explain to me why we’re involving the guy who,” Chris glanced at Riley, “isn’t always your fan.”
“Because breaking into her house isn’t going to do any good. Todd needs to go in himself.”
“He won’t have a warrant. We’ve already been through that scenario.”
“Crime scene that’s already been investigated,” I said. “All he needs is the key. I’m hoping he still has it.”
“And then what?”
“He finds the information, he brings the real deal down. The Senator’s cut out–if he’s not the one we’re after–and Todd gets the glory. Now how do you think he’s going to see me after handing him that?”
Chris put the car in gear. “Well played.”
In the backseat, Riley groaned. “I think you people might be scarier than Preacher.”
I hid my smile.
30
Todd met us outside of Sarah’s gated community. He punched in a code at the gate, and we followed him through the narrow, winding loops until he stopped in front of a small, cookie-cutter brick and tan house with a red front door.
“So,” Todd said as we all got out of the car. “You’ve been doing your own investigation instead of lying low like I told you. Why am I not surprised?”
I grinned. “You know me well.”
“More than I want to, I think.” A moment passed between us, Justin’s words echoing in my head. Did Todd want information instead of action? If he only wanted the knowledge that he was right, he’d likely have the answer some day. But if he wanted to get inside my head and understand why, he needed to squash that fantasy. He didn’t need to see the true monster taking shape in my heart.
Chris cleared his throat and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “This is Riley. She’s the one who gave us the information.”
Todd gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. His sharp gaze remained on me. “Seems like the district attorney is re-thinking things after Dietz and Coleman called. Imagine my surprise to be brought into that conversation.”
“They owed you that much,” I said.
“I don’t want to know how you found out Dietz was pulling the strings or what the Senator’s got that made him back off,” Todd said. “The important thing is the DA is looking at this Sam Townsend now.”
“Is Lucy in the clear?” Chris asked.
“The DA is still deciding. But I think we’ll hear something by the end of the day.”
“What about Townsend?” I asked.
Todd fumbled a small notepad out of his pocket. “He quit his job in Columbus a month ago, and no one’s heard from him in over two weeks. His bank said there was a major cash withdrawal around that time, and we’re pulling his credit card records now. We’ve got his picture out to every station and agency in the area. Hopefully we’ll get a hit.” Todd toed the ground with his worn dress shoe. “Thanks for doing this mostly the right way, Lucy. You could have broken into this place like you did the storage locker, mucked things up. Instead you trusted me enough to call. I appreciate that.”
Preacher’s dead, frozen face with his flat eyes stared back at me. Only hours ago I killed a man. Not by poison this time, but by physical force. Brutally and without conscience. It was as if I’d been in a mind-altered state and suddenly everything snapped back into place. For the first time since Preacher died, I understood the reality of my actions. My knees buckled. Cold permeated my insides so forcefully I thought I’d never be warm again.
Chris’s hand on my elbow–a gentle squeeze–was the only thing that steadied me. I cleared my throat. “Yeah well, I’m hoping you won’t forget it.”
“Believe me, I won’t.” Todd had noticed my sudden switch. He chewed the corner of his mouth, obviously aware something more was happening. Before he could ask questions, I retrieved the locket and handed it to him.
“The serial number is supposed to be the lockbox’s combination.”
“Where’d you get this?”
Sarah wore it at the time of death. I killed the man who took it from her. My prized ability to lie failed me, whether from exhaustion or guilt.
“I stole it,” Riley spoke up and saved me. “Snuck in and got it out of Preacher’s pants when he was passed out.”
“Brave girl,” Todd said. He seemed to believe her. “Where’s the lockbox hidden?”
“Under the loose floorboards beneath her bed.”
“All right,” Todd looked straight at me. “Wait here.”
He disappeared into the house. Chris moved to get back into the car, but I focused on Riley. “Why’d you lie for me?”
“Bargaining chips, remember?”
I laughed. “You’ll be just fine.”
Inside the car, I couldn’t stop shivering. What happened to the confidence from an hour ago? The steely resolve that I’d done the absolute right thing? I felt like the new girl in school all over again, all the nosy eyes seeing past my bravado and figuring out exactly who and what I was.
Chris put his hand on my knee. I turned to explain, to flush my sins, but I caught site of Riley in the backseat. Chris and I looked at one another for a long minute, the air between us loud with silent conversation. He finally nodded. He knew the crazy running around in my head.
“It’s all right,” he said. “It was right.”
I sank back into the seat and tried to convince myself of exactly that.
Todd returned fifteen minutes later. His face was rosy with excitement, his steps so quick he nearly slid down the sidewalk. In his gloved hands was a plastic bag containing a large, red notebook. “It’s all here. Names, dates, just like she said. Some are johns, some are the kids and where we can find them. Lots of stuff about Preacher, which gives him motive. Ideas about who his boss is. She makes a case for Dietz. Mentions him by name.”
“What about the Senator?” I couldn’t help seeing him at Ward 8 talking to the bus boy. Was that boy’s picture on the web site? I hadn’t seen it, but I could have missed it.
“Nothing. Maybe she wasn’t certain enough to write about it,” Todd said. “I’ll probably have to turn it over to Crimes Against Persons/SVU. But this is big.” He looked at Riley, who’d shrank into a mute ball in the backseat. “Listen, you’re a big witness for us. I don’t want to take you in and stick you in a cell to keep you from running. Would you be willing to stay at a shelter I work with until I can find you a more permanent place?”
She considered her options. “Yeah. All right.”
“Good,” Todd said. “You can ride with me. I’ll drop you off before I go into the station, I promise.”
Looking wary, Riley exited the car. Todd still danced with excitement.
I leaned over Chris to call out his open window. “Riley, thank you. This is the right thing, you know.”
Her dark hair framed her pale face making her look like the innocent child she should have been. “Yeah? Guess you and I both need to believe that about ourselves.”
I dropped back into my seat, hollow and spent. To hell with that little girl.
“Oh, Lucy, I almost forgot.” Todd leaned back down to our level. “Got a text from the DA’s office as I headed in to search. The lab results came back. Fibers found with Sarah didn’t match your dress. He’s officially taking you off the suspect list, and I guess I’m back on as lead investigator.”
“You almost forgot?” I said. “How could you almost forget?”
His smile was almost as cocky as Chris’s. “Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I figured waiting another few minutes would even the score a bit.”
31
Mousecop greeted me with a pained, drawn-out yowl. Contorting himself around my ankles as only cats can do, he followed me through the apartment. I dumped my stuff on the bed and scooped up the warm, fuzzy cat. He purred against my cheek, his paws resting against my neck. Still cradling him, I joined Chris in t
he kitchen.
“Thanks for feeding him,” I said. Mousecop sauntered out of my arms and across the counter. He sat on the edge near Chris, flicking his bottlebrush tail in his direction.
Chris shoved the cat’s tail out of his way. “You’re welcome. What are you going to do now?”
I sat on the closest bar stool. “Sleep for a few hours. Or days.”
“Me too.”
“That’s right.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “You had a shift, and then you’ve been stuck with me. How do you do it?”
“Practice,” he said. “Like anything else, you can train your body to go on very little sleep.”
My body felt like liquid, and I was pretty sure if I didn’t rest soon, I’d end up a puddle of flesh on the floor. And sleeping meant I could prolong the inevitable emotional slide over what I’d done to Preacher. “If you say so.” A yawn cut through my throat. “Do you think Riley will tell Todd what I said about Preacher?”
“If she thinks she can benefit from it.”
“Yeah. I guess I’ll deal with that if it happens.”
“Todd already thinks you’re a killer.” Chris shrugged. “What does it matter?”
“I don’t want him looking into a new case.” And I didn’t want him to know about Preacher. He was different than the rest. If Todd found out what I’d done to him, he’d change his mind about me. He would see the real devil inside.
“Preacher’s just gone missing,” Chris said. “By the time he’s found, it will take weeks to identify the body. Good luck with no identification.”
“I hope we did a good enough job getting rid of it.”
“It’s all in the dump,” Chris said. “Sprinkled over various mounds of trash. Fitting end for him, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so,” I searched for the right word, “complacent about this. I expected lots of battles of conscience.”
“Didn’t we discuss this?” He yawned, and then stretched his long arms high.
“You didn’t panic because grisly death is nothing new. But this is the aftermath. This is when you’re supposed to break down and think about what you’ve done.”
“What good does that serve?”
“I think it reminds you that you’re human.” Sitting around in self-reflection had to serve some cause, or I’d wasted hours of my life.
“Did you feel that after you killed the truck driver? Or Preacher?”
“I felt it after I killed Brian Harrison. And when I realized what I’d done to Preacher, how far I’d gone…” I shuddered.
“But you don’t feel it now.”
“I’m too tired to feel anything.”
His smile was flat. “No. It’s your shadow side.”
“Jung again.”
“Because it’s true,” Chris said. “We’ve all got one. The inner part of us that wants to slap the jerk who cuts us off in traffic. Or chew out the person slowing up the checkout lane. We might even fantasize about what we’d say and how much we’d freak the person out.”
“That’s nothing but impatience and irritation speaking. People don’t actually consider acting on those impulses.”
“Except when their shadow side wins out,” he countered. “Then you’ve got the douche fighting over a toy at Christmas. For most people, it’s a one-time rage thing. But for some,” he spread his hands, “it becomes who they are.”
“And you’re saying that’s what’s happening to me? That my shadow side now governs my decisions?” I didn’t want to be whittled down to fit into some perfect scientific mold. I was more than that, full of complicated layers and inconsistencies. We are all more than that.
“Do you feel remorse?”
“I feel remorse for the victims,” I clarified. “For friends and family who might mourn those people.”
“But you feel no remorse for killing?”
“Right now? I feel nothing.” Admitting the truth brought a wave of unexpected relief. Exhaustion might be driving my emotions, but there was no seed in the pit of my stomach, no flash of nausea when I thought of the dead trucker or Preacher’s unseeing eyes. I felt nothing at all. Even the momentary panic in the car had gone. Without Todd as a reminder of consequence, I was calm.
“Do you think you’re special?” Chris asked. “Like you’re somehow genetically different?”
“Now what are you talking about?”
“You kill people and don’t feel bad about it. My mother doesn’t either. Neither did Bundy or countless others. Why is that? What makes it possible?”
My overwhelming tiredness was the only thing that kept me from coming off the stool and screaming at him. “First off, they’re sociopaths. Psychopaths, actually–cold blooded killers who get off on what they’re doing. I’m nothing like them. I’m doing this for a reason, and it’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Sure it does. Every time you kill, you slice off a little of the guilt you feel over not being able to help your sister.” His voice held no accusation, his eyes flatly calm.
“Fine,” I said. “Because I’m about to keel over, I’ll give you that one for now. But the people I kill hurt others. They don’t need to be here. I’m solving a problem society can’t. Or won’t.”
“You are,” he agreed. “But you should still feel bad about taking a life. And you don’t. Why?”
“I just told you why. These people shouldn’t be allowed to breathe. Knowing that I’m saving kids is what keeps me going.” My arms felt as if bugs were crawling over the fine hairs. Chris’s ability to invade my subconscious and pluck out my specific demons was maddening. I knew I should feel some level of remorse for the men I killed, and I knew my lack of it meant something very bad. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Not yet. Allowing the monster on my back to roam free in my head would be my undoing. So I kept him muzzled.
“That’s all I can tell you,” I said. “Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it, for now. But someday you’ll have to stop dodging the truth about yourself.”
“Why?”
“Facing it is the only thing that’s going to keep you alive and out of jail.”
My fingers went numb. I flexed them and waved Chris off. “Whatever. Too tired to think straight right now.” I slid down off the stool. “We both need to sleep. Can you make it back to your place without passing out at the wheel, or do you need to crash on my couch?”
His glassy-eyed stare answered my question. I shuffled to my storage closet and retrieved an extra pillow and blanket. “Here,” I tossed them on the couch. “Sleep for a while. If you wake up before I do and leave, lock the door.”
I left him there before he could ask me any more questions, or before my mind could dwell on the sudden spark in his gaze and the pink flame in his cheeks. I wouldn’t think about his sleeping fifteen feet away from me or how long it had been since I’d had sex or the way he made me feel accepted. Those thoughts would change our relationship, cheapen it.
I clung to that idea as I changed into an old T-shirt and then climbed into bed. Sex is a wonderful thing, and I’d had plenty of it. Given our strange connection and the way he understood me, sex with Chris would probably be incredible. But then what? How would it affect the bond we’d forged? Would he stop thinking rationally when it came to me? Would I become jealous and by extension, careless? Some relationships transcend sex. Physical intimacy wasn’t always the pinnacle. Sometimes just knowing the person understood your darkest core and still wasn’t going to walk away was enough.
I couldn’t risk losing that. Because Chris was wrong. Accepting whatever power my shadow side had over me wouldn’t keep me alive and out of jail.
His presence in my life–the only real anchor I’d ever had–was my saving grace.
32
Chris was gone when I woke up in the early morning hours. My eyes still blurry with sleep, I sat at the kitchen table and tried to reassess. The police now knew I hadn’t killed Sarah and had a viable suspect. Figuring Sarah’s murder out w
as no longer my problem. Preacher helped clear my name, and Todd had all the information Sarah had been gathering against the organization. Had she really suspected the Senator of being involved?
I sipped on my coffee. The Senator had resources. He’d arranged for Sarah to have a new identity. Hiding a perverted side would be relatively easy for him. His task force might even be a perfect cover-up, not to mention a perfect pool to fish for victims.
The idea still bothered me.
What about U.S. Attorney Dietz? Had he simply been sweating the revelation of an affair and the loss of wealth? Or had Sarah discovered something far more sinister?
I didn’t care for that idea, either.
What bothered me more than anything was how easily Dietz had caved to the Senator. And the Senator’s offer to help me–why? Did he really want to get Sarah’s true killer? Was I so jaded I couldn’t believe someone actually did something good for the right reasons?
Entirely possible.
I wished I knew what Sarah’s notes said.
My fingers edged toward my phone. Todd would tell me if I asked nicely. Maybe.
Common sense suggested I cut myself free of this entire mess. The sex trafficking was exposed, and Todd would make sure the information got into the right hands. But Sarah’s handwritten information would only get them so far. I still had the information on the Candy Market. Todd could get that to the right people, and even if it took time, police could bring down the ring. Even if the leader got away, some of the johns could be found. Maybe the kids could be rescued. I couldn’t do that all on my own.
I should do the right thing and move on, find a specific target.
A specific target. The one Chris had been hounding me about for weeks. We should find his mother and finish her.
How would that change Chris? Would he still be the same person? Or would he carry the same dark monster I did? After watching him dispose of Preacher, I had to wonder how close to the edge he was teetering. A push by me could ruin his chances at leading a fairly normal life.
