All Good Deeds (A Lucy Kendall Thriller) (Lucy Kendall #1) (The Lucy Kendall Series)

by Stacy Green

  “What are you doing back here?”

  I pushed the hair out of my face and dropped the pepper spray back into my pocket. “Thought I might find Sly Lyle. See if there’s any truth to his story.”

  “Is your ego really that big? You think I can’t do my job? That we’re all a bunch of flailing idiots?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “I just wanted to help. I was at home, I couldn’t settle down. I thought maybe if Lyle were here, I could convince him to talk. That’s all. I know you’re overloaded and doing everything you can.”

  He half-extended his arms, looking like he wanted to shake me.

  “Look, I’m an overbearing pain in the ass, and I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, gritting his teeth. “You have got to stop interfering. You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

  “You know I just want to help.”

  “Because you think I can’t be impartial with Justin.”

  Right now, Justin wasn’t my only issue. “We’ve already discussed that. I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.” A gust of wind rushed over both of us, and I shivered. “Because of that, I couldn’t help his victim either. So if Kailey was taken–”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This isn’t about you, Lucy. Or my brother. It’s about a missing kid, and I don’t get to have tunnel vision. I have to be objective, even if one of the persons of interest is my brother. I don’t think he’d do it, but I can’t risk a child’s life and look the other way. So I’ve got to suck it up and do my job, and I can deal with that.” Todd squared his shoulders and looked down at me with cold eyes. “What I won’t deal with is a guilt-stricken, miserable former CPS worker-turned-private investigator trying to make a difference by sticking her nose into things she isn’t qualified for.”

  Anger coursed through me, in part because he was right, but mostly because I didn’t dare argue. “I’m not here because of your brother.”

  Todd sighed like I was the dimmest light bulb in the box. “No, but you’re bumbling around here, leaving more physical evidence that might have to be sifted through. And what if you’d been attacked? Then I would have to stretch my resources thin and away from the Richardson girl while we dealt with your assault or God knows what else. You see how selfish your help is?”

  “I’m sorry,” was all I could muster. He was right. Here I was, risking my own life, not just to find Kailey but to cover my own ass. I didn’t see any other course of action. I couldn’t help anyone from prison. And I’ll be damned if I’d go to jail over the likes of the Harrisons. “I just want Kailey to be found.”

  “Then let the police do our job.” He closed his eyes. “I still think you’re way too close to this. There sure as hell is something you aren’t telling me.”

  I tried not to grimace at the swarm of nerves in my stomach. “What are you getting at?”

  He opened his eyes, lips pressed into a line so tight they disappeared beneath his mustache. “The whole neighborhood knows my brother’s got a record. Now he can’t go back to his home.”

  Good. “You don’t expect me to feel sorry for him, do you? Where’s he staying? Do you know where he is?”

  He flinched, looking over my head at the old factory. “That’s none of your business.”

  So he was out roaming the streets, possibly having taken Kailey, and Todd didn’t know where he was?

  “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not like that. I know where he’s at. I’m just not telling you.”

  I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t have time to debate. “I hope so.” I stepped to move around him, and he caught my arm.

  “How do I know you didn’t plan all this? Steal Kailey, expose Justin, and then she suddenly turns back up?”

  No, no, no. He couldn’t go down that rabbit hole. “You’ve got to be a better cop than that.”

  “I am a good cop. That’s why I know you’re up to more than just finding Kailey.” He came nose-to-nose with me. “What if I searched your apartment? What would I find?”

  Hopefully not my cubbyholes. “You were there last night. You saw my life is pathetically boring. Feel free.”

  “Keep this shit up, and I might.”

  I wanted to point out how that would detract resources from Kailey, but I didn’t dare. “I’m sorry for interfering.” I pulled free of him and headed for my car.

  “I don’t want to see you around the neighborhood again. You get me?”

  “Absolutely.” I slid into the car, started the engine, and drove out of the lot.

  I’d been lying, of course.

  I was headed for Brian Harrison’s, and I decided I needed help.

  12

  Chris wanted to drive, but I refused. I needed the control. In my economical Prius, his knees were nearly at eye level with his chin, but he didn’t complain. I parked across the street from Harrison’s duplex. I hoped Chris would come in handy during my search, and if Harrison did have Kailey, I had no idea if he worked alone. Cyanide was a fast-acting weapon, but not faster than a bullet. Plus, I figured this was a good test for Chris.

  “So you really think Harrison could be the guy instead of Justin?” He peered over my shoulder at the plain duplex.

  “I don’t know, but I’ve got to find out.” Truth was, I wasn’t sure Harrison had Kailey. It didn’t feel right. Sly Lyle had described the girl as twelve, maybe younger. There’s a large physical difference between a nine and a twelve-year-old girl, especially if the latter’s hit puberty. And Kailey was small for her age. The neighbor girl Harrison had been accused of bothering was thirteen. If I had to make an armchair guess, he was into pubescent girls like Josie, and Kailey wasn’t his type. But I couldn’t take the risk. And I was too selfish not to check things out for myself. If I could save my own hide in this, so be it.

  “And you can find out what kind of information Brian Harrison has on you,” Chris said.

  “That too. But Kailey’s first priority.”

  “If he does have her, what are you going to say to Todd? You just happened to have a key and stumbled on her?”

  “I’ll worry about that if it happens.”

  He flopped back into his seat. “So who’s your informant?”

  “Can’t tell you that.”

  “Does he know you kill people?”

  His putting it out there so bluntly made it sound harsh, as though I were of the same ilk as a serial killer. “He’s never mentioned it.”

  “Good. Plausible deniability.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Spoken like a lawyer’s relative.”

  “Comes in handy sometimes.”

  “What, does your uncle keep your nose clean? Have the cops looking the other way while you clean up the garbage, as you put it?” I didn’t believe he’d killed anyone in his life, but he was a paramedic with an exorbitant lifestyle, so I had to believe his wealthy family gave him a second income. Guessing his uncle put the pressure on local police to keep his nephew out of trouble wasn’t that much of a stretch.

  “Never needed to.” He flashed me a grin. “I don’t get caught.”

  He had the kind of cockiness brought on by one of two things: not getting caught, just as he’d said, or never taking any risks and pretending his deep thoughts and plans accounted for something. I was pretty sure it was the latter.

  My phone beeped with a text from Kenny. He’d just confirmed Harrison’s car was in the Kipling Elementary parking lot. “Let’s move.”

  I led the way across the street, head up, confident but not drawing attention. People in this neighborhood usually didn’t bother with anyone else’s business. None of them wanted additional trouble. A baseball cap he’d retrieved from his car pulled low, Chris followed behind, hands in his pockets. If he was nervous, he didn’t act like it. The duplex was standard with tan siding that needed washing and brown shutters. Nothing on the shared concrete slab of a porch evoked a homey feeling. The neighbor hadn’t picked up his paper.

 
; I knocked, waited a full thirty seconds, and then got down to business. Lock picking is an art, but once you’ve got the hang of it and with the right tools, it’s easy work. I had the cheap, standard lock open in seconds. Behind me, Chris tensed. The only safety precaution I’d brought was pepper spray; I didn’t plan on killing anyone unless it was self-defense. Easing the door open, my heartbeat thrummed in my ears. I’d been told Harrison lived alone and didn’t have a pet, but I never knew. A roommate I could handle. A snarling Doberman, not so much.

  Only stale silence greeted us. We slipped into the place and locked the door. I checked my watch. Twelve minutes. The flickering street light seeped in around Harrison’s cheap, plastic blinds revealing a lonely looking living room. Worn, neutral colored carpet, a very tattered and stained blue sofa, and a well-loved faux-leather recliner. A large flat screen television and several gaming consoles dominated the room.

  I motioned for Chris to check upstairs. Nerves mottled his skin in pink dots, and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead gave his virginity away. He’s never done an illegal thing in his life. Quietly and systematically, I checked the small downstairs. Closet, nothing. Kitchen, a sink full of dishes, but nothing. Refrigerator full of beer. No milk. No snacks for a child. No sign of a child, no telltale scent of fear, no whimpering. Bathroom, extremely dirty and nothing of consequence.

  I went back to the television. Harrison had a stack of DVDs, several of them standard pornography. All of the discs matched their covers, but none looked very used. Probably for show. No sign of his computer downstairs, so I hurried to the second floor. Chris was already in the second bedroom, which looked more like a storage shed. My stomach clenched as I recognized items from Cody Harrison’s apartment: a lewd poster of a naked woman on a motorcycle, legs spread; a creepy looking bong in the shape of a caterpillar; and–my heart stopped–the Dell laptop that had sat in Cody’s living room. I picked it up. I’d gotten rid of the phone, but it was possible Cody had the picture on this laptop. It would be days if not weeks before his brother missed it.

  “I don’t think that’s his computer,” Chris said. “It’s in the bedroom.”

  “It’s not. But I need it. Did you try Brian’s computer?”

  He nodded. “Password protected.”

  Figures. Kelly hadn’t been able to find an email for Brian Harrison, but the laptop I had might solve that problem. Surely the brothers had emailed.

  “Why do you need that?”

  “This is his brother’s computer. It might have Brian Harrison’s email, and my hacker can use it to send a picture embedded with a program that will give us remote access to his desktop. If he’d been stalking Kailey or any other girls, we might find evidence there.”

  “And your picture might be on there.”

  I brushed past Chris, quickly eyed the other bedroom. No sign a child–or a woman or a cleaning person, for that matter–had ever been here, just as I suspected.

  “There’s nothing here. We need to go.”

  A text from Kenny. “Harrison just drove away.”

  I stuffed the laptop inside my coat, grateful I’d thought to bring it, and hurried down the stairs. Chris had the sense not to question me. We slipped quietly out of the house, locked the door, and then ran across the street to the car. Inside. Laptop in the backseat. Driving away. Passed a blue Neon, nerves in my throat.

  I didn’t breathe until we were several blocks away with no sign of the Neon on us.

  Chris finally broke his silence. “So Brian’s a pedophile, too? Like his brother?”

  “Sometimes it runs in families, especially if they’re indoctrinated young.” That’s the story the dead Harrison brother had given to the police when he was first arrested. That his uncle molested him and ruined him for life. I didn’t know if it was true, and while the cycle of abuse is very real, it’s also something pedophiles like to lie about. Only a very small percentage of people who are sexually abused go on to repeat the pattern. Most pedophiles are just born with something horribly out of whack inside their heads.

  “It doesn’t look like he’s got Kailey. At least not at his place.”

  Chris glanced at the laptop now sitting safely in the backseat. Hopefully Kelly had a charger, and hopefully the damned thing’s hard drive wasn’t shot. I knew Kelly had near magical ways of salvaging information, but I didn’t understand the process and didn’t like waiting for it. But if she found evidence of Brian molesting girls, I’d be able to get rid of him without any additional guilt about saving my own ass.

  “Do you consider it noble?” He finally asked when I parked next to his Audi.

  “I’m sorry?”

  He faced me, eyebrows knitted together, his nose crinkled. “What you do, do you consider it noble? Don’t get me wrong, I get it. I support it. These perverts aren’t going to stop hurting kids and should be put down. If the system won’t do it, then might as well be you. But do you ever think about your own fate?”

  “I don’t plan on going to jail.”

  “I don’t mean that. I’m not trying to get all existential on you.” He talked with his hands, waving them in front of his face in a circular motion. “I don’t sit around pondering the meaning of life and why humans are the way we are. But I do think about cause and effect, action and reaction.”

  I wished he’d stop making me think so hard. Focusing on only the task at hand was so much easier. “I’m not following you. Are you asking about my soul?”

  He laughed. “Nah. I’m not sure I really believe in that stuff. I just…something like this, your calling, if that’s what it is, you know it won’t end well, right? People who go down your road don’t get to step off, at least not without major consequences.” He leaned on the center console as if he were spilling a dark secret. “Maybe you’ll get arrested someday. Or maybe some pissed off family member will catch you. Or you’ll screw up and dump cyanide on yourself. Whatever it is, there’s no happy ending for you, is there?” He paused, glancing down at his hands and then back at me, a sad, resigned smile on his face. “You don’t get to just walk away.”

  A stinging rawness, like I’d breathed in bleach, built in my chest and left me struggling for a response. After every eradication, I’d take a scalding hot shower as if that would somehow cleanse my sins, followed by single shot of bourbon, making sure my stomach matched the heat of my flesh. Those nights, I never remembered my dreams, and I never wanted to, because they all ended the same way: being consumed by nothingness with no meaning left behind.

  “I’m aware,” I finally addressed Chris. “Nothing you’re saying is anything I haven’t thought a thousand times.” Speaking helped my head to clear. “And of course, I assume you go through the same thing?”

  “What?”

  “Being like me, as you say. I assume you’ve asked yourself the very same questions.” The malignant tone I used made me feel powerful and only slightly ashamed.

  Chris’s smile was forced. “Right.”

  He opened the door, and I took a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours. “Let me know if you get anything off the laptop. Or if you need any more help searching for Kailey.”

  He shut the door without waiting for my response, and I wondered if I’d ever hear from him again.

  Stupidly, I hoped I did.

  13

  My sister’s lifeless body lay on the bathroom floor, arms and legs stretched out as if she’d started to make a snow angel. Her glassy, vacant eyes faced the tub. Blood pooled beneath her body, trickling down the uneven tile and sitting in the grout like tiny crimson streams. I screamed her name again and again, but she never stirred. Never took a breath. How could she? Long, vertical gashes on both wrists had drained her life away.

  Death was real. It wasn’t some terrible thing that happened to other people, to be discussed in whispers. My sister didn’t live forever, and neither would I. All the vibrancy of her life–both good and bad–now stained my mother’s white tiles. As I stared at my sister’s co
rpse, the brightness of the blood dimmed. I no longer saw the bluish tinge on her slack mouth. I saw only her eyes. And they saw nothing. One day, I would see nothing too. How would I look in death?

  I’d never know. I’d never see myself again. Never talk to anyone again. As terrible as if the corpse itself reached for me, I suddenly grasped the true meaning of death. I understood its harsh reality, understood that I would simply end as if I’d never been here. Buried in the ground, cold and stiff and nothing.

  I woke up screaming. Mousecop flew off the bed and skittered across the floor. Heart throbbing in my head until I thought my skull would explode, I gasped for air. The nightmare wasn’t new, and it wasn’t even a nightmare. More of a memory with high definition to enhance the viewing experience.

  You’re not dead now. You’ve got a long life to live. You’re making a difference. I chanted the words that had become my refuge over the years. Taking deep breaths, I searched for the positive things in my life, for the happy place to help me stop shaking.

  As my heart rate slowed and the protective layer of my brain dimmed the real truth of death, hypocrisy took fear’s place. Five times now, I served as judge, jury, and executioner of the thing I feared most. I didn’t watch my marks die because I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand the idea of watching their eyes slip into the void.

  Enough. I needed to sleep, and this was an old battle I’d never win. So I’d die someday. In the meantime, I’d do everything I could to make a difference in this world.

  Kelly didn’t have a charger for the old Dell, but she did know how to take it apart and get the information from the hard drive. With some luck, she’d find out if Cody Harrison had the photo of me and more importantly, what his email address was. Not that I expected to find any evidence of Kailey. But I might be able to figure out who he molested, if the story were true, and how to get the girl some help.

  Saturday dawned bright and cool, with the last vestiges of leaves shivering their way to the ground. Todd refused to answer his phone, likely screening his calls, and the only information I had on the search for Kailey were the snippets Kelly gleaned from her sources. I needed to check in with Jenna Richardson, so I drove into Poplar where every inch of the neighborhood had been searched by police, but volunteers were still meeting, going door to door, combing through the thicket of woods thin enough to see through on a sunny day. Fliers of a smiling, gap-toothed Kailey now decorated every light pole and fluttered in most windows. In the business district, a group of women stood in front of the nail salon, handing out fliers to everyone who passed.