Sinful Deception

by Mel Comley

  “Cold?”

  “Nope. Ignore me. Strange he never asked us inside.”

  “Maybe he forgot or has been instructed not to let any strangers enter, especially if the place is full of runaways.”

  “Not quite understanding your logic there, especially as we informed him we were the police.”

  Footsteps returned to the other side of the door, and this time the older man invited them in. “If you’ll follow me.” He scurried through the hallway and stopped outside an open doorway. He beckoned them to hurry up then walked into the room. “Detectives Fox and Grimshaw to see you, Mrs. Sims.”

  “It’s Crimshaw,” Alex corrected for her partner.

  The woman was dressed smartly in a black suit and a white blouse with a huge bow tied at the neck. Alex estimated her age to be early-to-mid forties. Her hair was immaculately coiffured, and her nails were painted bright red to match her lipstick. Mrs. Sims shook each of their hands and invited them to take a seat opposite her in the vast office-cum-library. “I’m Selina Sims. How can I help you, Detectives?” Her voice was gentle, and her smile broadened as she spoke.

  “We’ve been given your address from a young man who said his girlfriend spent a night here. We’re hoping you can tell us where she went when she left. She was a runaway.”

  “Oh, I see. Odd, I’m not taking any runaways at the moment.”

  “We heard you open your home up to runaways. Isn’t that true?”

  “I have been known to in the past. Not recently, though. This establishment is more for children who are in the system, either up for adoption or are entered in the foster care system. We’re pretty full right now.”

  “Can I ask when the last runaway stepped through your door?”

  Mrs. Sims placed her finger on her chin as if deep in thought. “I record all the information on the runaways that stay here. I have to keep up with how much they make and report it, you know.” She walked over to the large antique desk in front of the window, flipped through a small book, and returned to her seat. “That would be a few months ago.”

  “Was this a girl or boy?”

  “I only take in girls. House rule. Boys can be so much trouble, you see. Didn’t you say a young man said his girlfriend stayed here? Perhaps you can tell me the girl’s name?”

  Cagey and smart. “Belinda Montgomery.”

  Mrs. Sims bobbed her head. “Oh, yes, Belinda Montgomery. Such a cute little thing. We did our best to help her out, but she didn’t fit in.”

  Alex and Crimshaw exchanged glances. “Why didn’t she fit in?”

  “Alas, it’s the risk we take showing kindness to these girls, but for some of them, it isn’t enough. She said she wanted to stay here until her parents agreed to let her and her boyfriend be together. I explained the other girls get special privileges that are paid for by the state, and I only take the runaways in as a favor. All the costs are on me, so she would be expected to work to help pay for her keep.”

  Crimshaw frowned. “You kicked her out because she couldn’t pay you?”

  “No, dear, she started a fight with one of my regulars. I don’t stand for any trouble around here. I run a happy ship, and my regular girls accept the rules that are in place.”

  “But you did ask her to leave?” Alex asked, studying the woman carefully.

  “In the end, yes. I gave her a few hundred dollars to tide her over, to pay for accommodation for a week or so. I thought she might have called me to tell me she’d settled somewhere nice, but I haven’t heard from her at all.”

  Alex pulled out the photo of the dead girl and showed it to the woman. “Is this Belinda?”

  She studied the photo and remained silent for a few seconds. “Oh, that poor girl. Yes, that’s her.” She sighed heavily. “So sad the things that happen to these young girls. And she was such a pretty thing.”

  “She was found with two other girls. Would you care to take a look and see if you recognize them?” Alex handed her the photographs.

  Mrs. Sims tilted her head and frowned as she considered the photos carefully. Finally, she shook her head and handed them to Alex. “I’m sorry, dear. I’ve never seen these children before.”

  The woman’s words seemed genuine enough to Alex, but there was no shifting the feeling of distrust wrapped around Alex’s shoulders. “It’s an unfortunate situation, especially as runaways are purely seeking help and affection, something that is almost always lacking in their home lives.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Which is why I opened up my home to her, and to all the girls who come knocking on my door.” Mrs. Sims pointed to the array of photos adorning her bookshelves. “They’re like children to me once they step over the threshold. It’s up to them to make the effort and fit in around here. I won’t tolerate any disruption with my permanent residents, though.”

  “Would you object if we spoke to some of your girls? Perhaps they’ll recognize the victims.”

  “I’m sorry, that isn’t allowed. The girls are under my care for a reason—to protect them from outside influences. They never leave the premises so they won’t come into contact with our permanent residents, unless the girls end up on our doorstep.”

  “Really? So you home school them, or you have a teacher on site?”

  “Yes, everything is above board. We have a teacher on site, educating the girls to a high standard,” Mrs. Sims insisted, her smile never fading.

  “What happens if one of the girls has an accident or is ill? Do you take them to the hospital?” Crimshaw asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh no, we have a doctor on-call twenty-four hours a day for such emergencies. He visits the girls here.”

  “Well, thank you for your time. If you should remember anything else, please do get in touch.” Alex offered the woman one of her business cards. Mrs. Sims took it and placed the card in her jacket pocket. “I’ll show you out.”

  She led them to the front door and bade them farewell. “It’s been nice meeting you. I pray you catch the culprit or culprits who have robbed these poor children of their young, innocent lives soon, Detectives.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Alex replied.

  She and Crimshaw walked down the steps together in silence. Once they were seated in the car, Alex looked at her partner. “What did you make of her?”

  “She appeared to be okay to me. Strange setup, though. Not sure I’ve stumbled across many homes like this in my time.”

  “Yeah, that bugged me, too. I’m not liking the feeling my gut is giving me right now—that’s for sure. I think I spotted a note of recognition in her face when I showed her the second victim’s picture.” Before she could say anything else, her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Alex, it’s Tamara. We’ve had a call from a distraught woman who has identified one of the victims as Janice Brockhurst. She’s fifteen and has been missing for three months.” She gave Alex the address. “She just identified her daughter’s remains, so Chief Brown says to wait until morning before interviewing her.”

  “Thanks, Tamara.” Alex glanced at her watch. It was almost quitting time. “Anything on Patterson?”

  The silence on the phone answered her question, but something odd tinged Tamara’s voice when she came back on the line. “Nothing yet. Nobby headed home and says we should all get together for dinner tonight. Is that okay with you and Crimshaw?”

  “Sure. We’ll see you tonight.”

  Crimshaw shot her a glance. “What’s up?”

  “I don’t know. Tamara says we’re all getting together at Nobby’s for dinner.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Crimshaw shook his head. “What do you think she’s up to?”

  It wasn’t what Tamara was up to that bothered Alex. She was more concerned with what Nobby was up to. “I think we’re getting ready to go off the grid again.”

  Crimshaw grinned at her. “Sounds like fun.”

  ~

  Selina paced the floor of her office, seething. “Where’s your brot
her and his slutty wife, Joshua?”

  “I swear, Mrs. Sims, I don’t know. I’ve been trying to call him for the last two hours.”

  “Do you know what those two detectives wanted?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Of course you don’t, because you’re a fucking idiot. Two of the girls your stupid brother picked up are dead, and they traced one of them to me. What do you think would have happened if they’d brought a search warrant and went into the basement?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Selina stopped pacing. “Get that Martine girl cleaned up and ready. I’ve got a customer for her. Find your damn brother, and get rid of the other girl—and clean everything up! When Martine is finished, you can get rid of her, too.”

  I’m surrounded by the stupidest people in the world. Selina watched him walk away, crossed to the desk, and picked up her special diary. The police would eventually ask for it. She grinned and flipped through the pages. That was why she kept two: one for herself and one for anyone who got nosey. Once the basement was cleaned up, there would be nothing to find except the regulars the state paid her to keep. She’d had a good run, and as soon as everything blew over, she could start up again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Turn around and look.”

  Candy turned toward the mirror and gasped. “Oh, my God, I’m beautiful.”

  Val laughed. “Clothes, makeup and hair do maketh the woman.”

  She laughs a lot. Candy twirled in front of the mirror. So much for blondes having more fun. I look gorgeous as a brunette. Maybe now I can laugh a lot, too. “I wish my mother could see me now.”

  Val frowned. “Really, Candy?”

  “Only to rub her nose in it. She said I’d never amount to anything because I was ugly and a man would only want me for sex.”

  “The trick, darling, is to only want a man for sex. Otherwise, they’re useless. Is your mother ill?”

  “No, but she could be, her and her sick bastard of a boyfriend,” Candy said, the gist of Val’s suggestion sinking in. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him strapped to a table.”

  Val took her arm. “Let’s go home, and perhaps we’ll think about that later.”

  Candy followed her to the limousine filled with their afternoon purchases. The driver opened her door, and Candy slid into the backseat. The vehicle smelled like heaven. She didn’t care what Dr. Jackson asked her to do, she was never going to give this up.

  Val poured two glasses of wine and passed one to Candy. “A toast to your new life.”

  Candy sipped the sweet liquid. “What are you going to do with the other girls?”

  “I’d planned on cleaning them up and using them. Why do you ask?”

  “I saw the news while we were waiting for the car. The three bodies they found have caused quite a stir.”

  “If the police had told the truth, it would have caused more than a stir.”

  “What do you mean?” Candy asked.

  “Well, I couldn’t let them find the drugs in the girls’ systems, so I removed all their organs and a portion of their brains. But don’t worry your pretty little head about those things, darling. What would you suggest I do with Thirty-Five and Thirty-Six?” Val asked. “We can’t let them go.”

  “Why are you using girls anyway? Wouldn’t it be easier to find someone who has the disease you want to cure?”

  “You saw John and Elisa; do you think they could convince someone who wasn’t desperate to go with them?”

  Candy took another sip of wine. “I could do it.”

  “And how would you do it, Candy?”

  “Hang out at the hospitals, pretending I was visiting someone. Talk to people, find out what’s wrong with them. I would then follow them home, and with Rico’s help, you’d have a perfect specimen to start on right away.”

  “Oh, Candy, I can see we’re going to have a long and wonderful partnership. So what do you suggest I do with Thirty-Five and Thirty-Six?”

  “Drug them, take them into town, and drop them off at some out-of-the-way homeless shelter.”

  The limo pulled up in front of a massive townhouse.

  “Wow, is this where you live?”

  “It’s one of my homes. And now it’s your home, too. When we’ve finished the job at hand, I’ll have to take you to Spain. I have a lovely cottage there.”

  Candy slid across the smooth leather and accepted the driver’s hand to help her out. Dr. Jackson was right—the memory of John and Elisa was already fading. She’d landed in the lap of luxury, and killing them was a small price to pay for the life ahead of her.

  ~

  Alex waved to Nobby. “I’ll be over as soon as I take Dixie for a run and feed Cinders.”

  “Might as well bring them with you,” Nobby yelled. “Everybody should be here by seven.”

  She hadn’t lied to the Escape Artist. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she wished she could just spend a quiet night on the couch, but the lure of one of Nobby’s wonderful lasagnas was too tempting to ignore. She hoped to have a few minutes alone with him before the rest of the team arrived. Nobby always had a way of making her think outside the box, and for this case, she had a feeling she was going to need that.

  Alex had boundless energy, which was unusual for the end of the day. She put it down to working through the gamut of emotions that had touched her during the course of the day. Dixie started to pant heavily, so Alex halted and crouched beside her best friend. “Sorry, sweetheart, is this too much for you?”

  “Poor dog. As fast as you run, maybe you should consider swapping her for one of those greyhound types.”

  Alex looked up quickly and stared at the man who’d approached her in the park on their early-morning run. Damn it, I should have heard him approach. “She’s fine. Thanks for your concern,” she snapped and began running again. She strained an ear to listen in case he decided to follow her, and breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn’t hear his footsteps. Who the hell does he think he is? How dare he dish out advice like that when he doesn’t even know me?

  When she arrived home, she fed and watered Cinders and Dixie before jumping in a cool shower. The man’s image refused to leave her mind, infuriating her even more. By the time she’d dried her hair and pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she had worked herself up into an angry state.

  Nobby opened the door and stood aside to let her in. She breezed past him and into the kitchen. The wonderful aroma hit her, and finally, her mood lightened. Alex pulled out a chair at the table and sat. Nobby went to the cupboard and pulled down two glasses, filled them with red wine, and handed her one. “Looks like you need this.”

  “Thanks, I was feeling okay about today until I went to the park.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to bombard you with stupid guesses?”

  Alex took a sip of wine. “Sorry, had a strange encounter with that bloke again. He had the audacity to advise me to trade Dixie in for a breed able to keep up with me better. Can you believe that?”

  “Maybe I’ll go with you in the morning. He shows up, I’ll have a little chat with the bastard.”

  “I can handle him, Nobby. You look after yourself. I’d starve if I didn’t have you to cook these delicious meals for me.”

  “That’s for sure. Where are the kids? Told you to bring them with you.”

  “I know, but I’m hoping for an early night. If the Escape Artist has a plan, we all need to be at our best tomorrow. I was hoping we could talk before the others got here. What do you make of the case—or cases, should I say?”

  “You mean what is my gut telling me?”

  She chuckled. “Okay, what’s your gut telling you? I have to admit I’m finding this one a little tough to handle.”

  “What’s Blake saying about it?” Nobby asked.

  “We haven’t discussed it yet. I assumed the chief had him working on Patterson’s case.” Alex frowned as a thought hit her. “What were you working on all day?�
��

  Nobby ducked his head and checked the oven again. “Nothing in particular.”

  “The bloody hell, you say. What’s going on, Nobby?” A knock on the door interrupted them, and Alex rose to answer it. “We are going to finish this conversation before I leave.” She opened the door to a grinning Tamara, Reefer and Crimshaw, all carrying sleeping bags and equipment. The three brushed past her, tossed their bags on the living room floor, and headed to the kitchen.

  “Something smells delicious,” Reefer said. “Nobby, if I wasn’t a straight man, I’d ask you to marry me.”

  Alex closed the door and followed them. “Would somebody like to tell me what’s going on?”

  Tamara snatched a piece of garlic bread. “We’re having a pajama party. Tomorrow’s your birthday, right?”

  “Oh, no.” Alex held up a hand. “We are not doing this. We’re going to eat, and then I’m going to go to my apartment, climb into bed, and sleep.”

  Tamara pulled a birthday party horn from her pocket and blew it. “Not tonight, you’re not.”

  Another knock sounded on the door, and Alex shook her head as she went to answer it. “No pajama party.” She opened her mouth to speak but closed it as her eyes met a twinkling blue gaze.

  “Are you going to ask us in, Alex?” Chief Brown asked.

  “Of course, sir.” She stood away from the door, her heart pounding as Blake Morgan brushed against her on his way in.

  Crimshaw appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I’ll be damned. Alex Fox is speechless. Never thought I’d see the day that happened.”

  “Shut up, Crimshaw,” Alex whispered through gritted teeth. She pasted on a smile. “So when did this happen?”

  “Matt and I drove down and picked him up today. It’s only temporary, and he’s been released in Matt’s custody, so I expect everyone to cooperate and make sure nothing goes wrong with this case.” He held out an envelope addressed to Alex. “Commander Frost sends his apologies; he couldn’t make it tonight.”

  Alex took the envelope. “Thank you, sir.”

  Chief Brown sighed. “Can we dispense with the sirs tonight, Alex?”

  “I’ll do my best, sir.”