LUCY: The Complete Lucy Kendall Series with Bonus Content (The Lucy Kendall Series Book 5)

by Stacy Green

  The part of me that had been feeling sorry for herself and doing nothing for far too long wanted to crawl back into bed. Fortunately, the real Lucy Kendall was a lot more stubborn than that, and she hadn’t evaporated completely. Not yet, anyway. “I’m heading there now.”

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  Todd didn’t trust Chris’s motivations, and I understood his position, but now wasn’t the time. My apartment suddenly became a prison I had to escape. “Please don’t argue. If the police are stretched too thin, I’ll help search. And I’ve got to call Justin to see if he’ll feed the cat.”

  “You can do that while you wait for me.”

  That took me off guard. I stopped in the middle of my bedroom, hairbrush in hand. “What?”

  “You’re not going into this by yourself. Not after everything else. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  Todd’s four-door sedan was more immaculate than I’d expected. While his house had the lived-in feel of a bachelor, his car seemed primed for a date. The dash gleamed as if it had been freshly shined, and the slightly overpowering scent of vanilla made my already queasy stomach churn. As we rushed down I-95 toward Maryland, I tried to distract myself by debating whether or not the poison tucked away in my bag, in the backseat of a cop’s car, would be considered irony.

  “Thanks for taking me. I hope you didn’t have to take vacation days.”

  “I did,” Todd said. “Unpaid since we’re short staffed and it’s not exactly a family emergency.”

  “That’s not right,” I said. “I’ll reimburse you.”

  “Stop. I don’t want you going through this alone, especially with your state of mind the last few weeks,” he said. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be going at all. You need to take care of yourself first, for once.”

  I dragged my teeth over my lip, momentarily stunned by the wave of gratitude. It was more emotion than I’d felt since killing Riley and Jake. My peripheral gaze shifted to Todd’s tense form. His mustache hadn’t returned, and his face looked slightly fuller. The wrinkles around his eyes suited him, as if each were a testament to the good he’d done in the world. Including being a good friend to me when he believed I’d done despicable things.

  “The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children called a couple of days ago.” I needed to combat the war inside my head, and talking about something other than whatever tragedy we were racing towards sounded like a good way to pass the time. “They’d like to talk to me about a position in their Washington, D.C. office.”

  “Really?” Todd bounced in his seat a little, a hint of excitement in his usually calm voice.

  “Apparently word travels,” I said. “The supervisor who left the message said they’d heard of my work on the Kailey Richardson case and the recent sex trafficking ring, and that I’d be a good fit for a support specialist in the Child Victim Identification Program.” I’d almost laughed when she’d first asked. Me, with unlimited access to the nation’s best program for catching child predators. Like handing a match to a pyromaniac.

  “Big stuff,” Todd said. “We’ve got information from them before. You’d be working directly with law enforcement, right? Helping to ID the kids and get the various jurisdictions what they need?”

  “I suppose so,” I said. “I haven’t followed up.”

  “You should.” His enthusiasm didn’t make the situation any less comical. “It might be just the change you need.”

  I didn’t respond, because I didn’t know what to say. Change scared me, as it did so many people, but the idea of working for a national organization that helped law enforcement–playing by the rules–after all the things I’d done was impossible. Not after all this time. Hadn’t I decided long ago that I’d accept my chosen path no matter where it took me, consequences and all? What right did I have to try to turn back now?

  “So tell me the full story.” Todd finally said the words I’d been dreading. My brain still felt like it was working at partial speed, his words sounding as if he were speaking through some kind of muzzle. “How could Chris possibly be in communication with his mother? I double checked with ADA Hale on the way to your place, and he insists there’s no way Chris has been talking with her.”

  I hadn’t even thought about Chris’s aunt and uncle. I should have called them, but my primary concern had been Chris and getting to Maryland. I needed to be there, even if police forced me to stalk the sidelines. Typical one-track mind Lucy. “Are they coming to Maryland too?”

  “The ADA is, most likely,” Todd said. “Answer my question.”

  “Email.”

  “And he just found that via Google search? Man, I bet the FBI is going to wish they thought of that.” Todd gripped the wheel, glaring at the road as if he expected it to rise up and block our way. “Come on, Lucy.”

  “I’m serious.” I couldn’t think of a way to explain without giving too much of myself away. And then I decided I didn’t care if I did. Beyond that, I trusted Todd. Too many days of feeling sorry for myself might have clouded my judgment, but I took the chance. “That day in the garage, Jake told me he reached out to his contacts and had a buyer for me named Mary. I knew it was her.”

  Jake’s sex trafficking ring stretched across at least three states, and while he primarily sold kids, he’d been willing to make an exception for me. I examined my dry hands and wondered if I’d make the same choices in the garage today if I’d known I’d be as twisted up about my life as I was now. Most people would still be reeling from the trauma of being kidnapped and nearly sold like a slave, but I had bigger problems.

  Todd’s eyes remained steadfastly forward, his jaw locked tightly enough to look painful.

  I figured I might as well keep going. “I assumed she wanted revenge since I helped Justin tell the truth. She’d purchased from Jake before, and I guess dumb luck brought us all together. Anyway–” I almost said, after I killed Jake and Riley, but I caught myself– “before you got there, I checked Jake’s computer and made a copy of the hard drive and sent it to my computer expert. She found the email address Mary used.”

  “So what?” Todd said. “I mean, I know it’s typical, spoiled Chris. Raised with a silver spoon and all that, thinking he could do better. But the police and the FBI have all of that as well. Every single account taken from Jake’s computer bounces off foreign servers. The task force is taking them down the old-fashioned way–sting operations. There’s no way your hacker is better than the FBI’s people, sorry.” His chin jerked up and down to emphasize his point.

  I wasn’t sure I agreed, but I didn’t argue. “You’re right. We hit a dead end. And I’ve been…out of commission. Chris got impatient.”

  “I don’t understand where you’re going with this,” Todd said. “And I’d love to know exactly what you planned to do with information you stole.” His sideways glare told me he was afraid he knew exactly what I planned to do with it.

  “Let me play you his voicemail,” I said. Chris hadn’t said anything about killing his mother on the message. Playing it for Todd saved me precious energy.

  Chris’s husky voice filled the small car. A wave of emotion I hadn’t expected threatened to drown me. I might not see him again, and I’d have a brand new death on my conscience.

  That would be the end for me. The only question would be the final lines I chose to write on this life’s pathetic page.

  The second message brought fresh fear. We both jumped as the recorded shot reverberated through the car’s confined space.

  Todd’s face reddened. “What the hell was he thinking? More importantly, what were you two planning?”

  “Nothing.” At least that much was true. “My focus has been helping Justin, and you know that.”

  “He expected your help. To do what, exactly?”

  I shrugged. “Moral support? Talk him out of it? I don’t know.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  I waited for more accusations, but he let it drop. “You need to
prepare yourself. If this was his mother, he’s a threat to her. And that was clearly a gunshot.”

  “She didn’t kill him,” I said. “Not yet. She took him.” I couldn’t explain where that thought came from, but I didn’t doubt myself. I’d snag the answer from my subconscious eventually.

  “How is a fifty-something-year-old woman going to haul away a guy Chris’s size?” Todd asked. “Especially if he’s wounded and can’t walk?”

  “We don’t know that he couldn’t walk. Maybe he was shot in the arm or the shoulder. And she doesn’t work alone. She never has. When we thought we’d found Kailey in the farmhouse, who else was there? A dead man. It’s her pattern.”

  “I suppose she’s only learned how to manipulate better as the years have gone by,” Todd said. “And she certainly knows how to pick the right partner.”

  “Just like a pimp,” I said.

  “Even so,” he said. “What makes you think she took him? What’s the point?”

  I looked at him in disbelief. “Seriously? She’s proven she likes to torture people. Chris is the one who messed up her original operation, and now he’s involved in screwing her over a second time. You don’t think she’d want to torture him?”

  “You’re assuming this is really his mother he’s been talking to and not just some jerk yanking his chain. And how do you know that’s how she’d see it?”

  Because that’s how I’d see it. “I just do. Common sense.” I changed gears. “What about the gunshot? Why isn’t he answering his phone?”

  “I’m not saying something hasn’t happened to him,” Todd said. “But right now, I’d put my bet on a hunting accident before his mother. I’d guess he wasn’t wearing an orange vest, was he?”

  I didn’t respond, but I knew damned well Chris wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some bright orange vest that made him look as hick as everyone else. He was too much of a snob for that.

  “And you haven’t even mentioned the fact he communicated with his mother without telling anyone, including you.” Todd dribbled some salt into my open wounds. “It doesn’t bother you that he basically decided to risk lives to go after her himself?”

  “I don’t know.” More like I didn’t want to think about it right now. Thinking about it meant taking on more guilt, and my shoulders nearly scraped the ground as it was.

  “Then again, it’s no different from what you’ve done. Had you two talked about killing her?” Todd tried to sound firm, but a smattering of empathy leaked into his tone. He’d understand wanting to kill her. He probably wanted to do it himself. But while the line of right and wrong was a faint gray for me, Todd saw it as a pristine white mark.

  I closed my eyes. “I’m not even going to dignify that ridiculous question with a response.”

  “You don’t need to.” Todd said. “Let’s just hope I’m right about the hunting accident. Because if his mother has him, we’re talking about a whole other level of crazy.”

  4

  On another day, under different circumstances, I might have considered rural Harford County quaint. Just 25 miles from Baltimore, Harford County’s proximity to Chesapeake Bay made it a tourist destination. Or rather, made the southern part of the county a tourist destination. Instead of being directly off I-95, Jarrettsville was much farther north, off the beaten path, the route taking too many detours for my impatient taste. The northern end of the county seemed to be nothing more than the usual small rural town with struggling mom and pop shops, a couple of department store giants, and lots of gun shops. The recent snow no longer appeared fluffy and white but instead had become muddy river sand, courtesy of the highway department.

  I wanted to get straight to the search, but Todd insisted we meet up with the county sheriff deputy.

  “Here it is.” Todd pulled into the parking lot of a newer looking sheriff’s office. A perfect brick rectangle, it could have fit inside half the restaurants in Philadelphia.

  “They don’t have city police?” I asked.

  “Nope. The Harford County Sheriff has a few different precincts. This is the North Precinct, and we’re meeting with Deputy Gerry Frost.”

  My impatience swelled. “This building’s small enough we’ll have no trouble finding Barney Fife.”

  “It would be Barnette Fife in this case, and drop the attitude,” Todd said. “They’re helping us out. Don’t try to take control. Not everyone is as patient as I am.”

  “I just want to find Chris.”

  Todd ducked his head, his shoulders hunched against the wind, and headed into the small building. I followed, anxiety flooding my system. Without the protection of the city’s tall buildings, the wind shilled through the town’s muddy streets, blowing wisps of dirty snow. The cold settled into my throat, making me feel as if I could choke at any moment.

  Chris is out in this misery.

  A tall, athletic-looking brunette in an asexual uniform greeted us before we made it past the administration desk. “Chief Deputy Gerry Frost. Trooper Evans said you’ve got a friend who might be in some sort of trouble.”

  I wanted to tell her that he was definitely in trouble, but I let Todd answer. “He was supposed to meet someone at a property for sale, and she didn’t show up.” Todd turned to me, a warning in his eyes. “This is Lucy Kendall. The missing man, Chris Hale, was in the process of leaving her a message when a shot was fired and the call disconnected. He hasn’t answered his phone since. Before that happened, he said he was going to call the police and let them know about the woman he was looking for.”

  Deputy Frost nodded. “I checked with dispatch. There’s been no matching call. We’re a small staff, but I’ve got a deputy out looking. Problem is, we’ve got a few acreages that are for sale.” She turned her dark eyes to me. Her square jaw and sloping nose set like a mask. “Why would he call us about this woman?”

  I stared back at her. Women who tried to intimidate me instantly pissed me off. “Because she’s a wanted criminal.” Already prepared, I played the voicemail for her. Frost listened with interest, her eyes darting between Todd and me as Chris lamented about his mother. I expected to feel a fresh dose of fear at the sound of the gunshot, but my body had gone numb.

  “So,” Frost said when the message ended. As Chris’s message played, the deputy’s stance had subtly shifted from wary to glittering anticipation. “We’re going to have to search each acreage one by one. Good news is the snow will help us out with footprints. And blood.” She looked at me as she spoke, as if expecting me to wilt at the word. I met her gaze until she looked away. “What’s his mother wanted for?”

  Todd glanced at me. I shrugged. He could deal with the exchange of information. I wanted to get out and do something. “I asked Trooper Evans to keep the details quiet because I don’t want it going out over the radio and causing an uproar. Are you familiar with the Mary Weston/Martha Beckett case?”

  Frost’s eyebrows knitted together. “The names sound familiar. Is this out of Lancaster?”

  “Yes.” Todd’s carefully controlled, monotone voice highlighted his personal hatred of his stepmother. “Mary Weston and her husband John Weston kidnapped and killed several girls in the eighties. Their streak ended when their five-year-old son accidentally found one of the girls in the barn. At the time, it was believed Mary was a victim of her husband’s abuse, and he was found guilty and incarcerated. Mary gave the boy to his aunt and uncle to raise and moved on with her life.” Todd’s jaw worked in circles. “It’s recently been discovered that after she married Josh Beckett, she again began killing girls. By the time the connection was made, she was on the run again.”

  “I’ve heard of the case,” Deputy Frost’s face practically sparkled with eagerness. She probably spent her days dealing with domestic violence and drug users. A criminal like Mary came along once in a cop’s lifetime–if that. Apprehending her would change Frost’s career, assuming she had dreams beyond Harford County. “She let her boy take the rap for something, didn’t she?”

  “The you
nger boy, Justin Beckett,” Todd said. “He spent years in juvenile detention and was labeled as a sex offender because of her actions.” The left corner of his mouth twitched, but only someone who already knew the anger he carried for Mary would have caught it. Todd’s stalwart control amazed me.

  “Chris Hale, the missing man, is her older son,” I said. “He found the girl in the barn in Lancaster in 1986. The discovery of his mother’s involvement in those murders and her new life have messed up his head.”

  “A small positive is that he’s also a paramedic,” Todd said. “If he has been shot and isn’t mortally wounded, he’s capable of helping himself.”

  The reminder should have given me hope, but I felt nothing but mounting fear that my world and everything I knew to be true and real was spinning rapidly out of control. Dizziness crashed over me. I gritted my teeth and stood motionless.

  “All right.” Deputy Frost rocked back on her heels, as though she needed to get moving. “And you’re assuming Martha is still in good enough health to be dangerous? How old is she?”

  “We believe she’s in her mid-fifties,” Todd said. “And as of her most recent known killings in Lancaster, she had an accomplice.”

  “Is he with her?”

  “She killed him,” I said. “So she could escape. That’s what she does. But she might have another.”

  Frost nodded. “Self preservation–every killer’s hidden talent.”

  The words slapped me in the face and knocked me off balance, making me spin as though I’d just stuttered off the merry-go-round. I grabbed Todd’s arm.

  He steadied me. “We don’t know exactly what Chris encountered, but it’s unlike him to continue to ignore phone calls. We have to assume something has happened.”

  Frost pulled on her heavy jacket. “He said in the message he was heading back to his car, so that might help us narrow things down. I’ll have my deputy check for it before going on foot. What is he driving?”