by Debra Webb
“She works at Mercy General,” Trinity said aloud. The schedule gave no indication of the position she held, only the hours scheduled to work each day.
Jim joined him in the kitchen. “She scheduled to work today?”
Trinity shook his head. “Tomorrow afternoon.” The numerous night shifts made him wonder who kept the girl, Lily, while her mother worked.
“I’m calling the police!”
Trinity and Jim turned simultaneously. An elderly woman waved a cordless phone receiver in her right hand while sporting what appeared to be a can of pepper spray in the left.
Jim’s hands went up surrender style. “No need to call the police, ma’am,” he assured her. “We’re from the Colby Agency. We’re here to help Ms. Larkin.”
Trinity lifted his hands in the same fashion. “Are you a neighbor of Ms. Larkin’s?”
The woman pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. “If you’re here to help her, why isn’t she here, too?” she demanded, promptly ignoring Trinity’s question. “Since she’s not, that means you’re here illegally.”
Unfortunately, Trinity considered, the lady had a valid point.
“I’m Jim Colby,” Jim explained, “and this is my colleague Trinity Barrett.” Jim gestured to his coat. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll gladly show you my ID.”
The woman cocked her head. “Open that coat up so I can see if there’s a gun under there.”
Smart lady, Trinity decided.
Jim obliged, gingerly tugging open his coat using his thumbs and forefingers.
The woman nodded, a frizzy gray curl slipped loose from her haphazard ponytail. “You, too,” she instructed Trinity.
Trinity did the same. Jacy Kelley, the agency’s new receptionist, had appeared in the parking garage with Trinity and Jim’s coats before they headed here.
“Come on over here where I can see.” The neighbor wasn’t stepping away from the open doorway.
Moving cautiously, Trinity and his boss again complied with her demand.
When they’d reached the center of the living room, she said, “That’s close enough right there.”
Both displayed their credentials.
After leaning forward to check out the IDs they offered, she eyed first Jim then Trinity with marginally less suspicion. “Where’s Wanda and Lily?” Fury tightened her lips. “Has something happened?”
Jim explained the circumstances that brought them to Larkin’s apartment, leaving out the part about the missing child. They needed this woman cooperative, not hysterical. Her face paled and her eyes widened at the few details Jim provided.
“I knew that no-good bum would do something like this eventually.” She shoved the canister of pepper spray into the pocket of her baggy jeans, shifted the phone to her left hand and extended her right toward Jim. “I’m Teresa Boles. I live cross the hall. I take care of Lily after school.” As Jim shook her hand, she added, “He should’ve gone to jail for good the last time he knocked Wanda around.”
“Ms. Boles,” Trinity began as he, too, accepted a brisk handshake from the lady. Her grip was a heck of a lot stronger than he’d expected. “We’ll need the ex-husband’s name, phone number and address. Can you help us with that?”
“Kobi Larkin.” Teresa wagged her head. “I haven’t seen him in months. Not since he broke Wanda’s jaw.” She muttered a curse under her breath. “I helped her take out a restraining order and he hasn’t been back. I hoped we’d seen the last of him.” She suddenly frowned. “Wait.” She looked from Jim to Trinity and back. “You said Wanda was at the hospital. Where’s Lily?”
Trinity and Jim exchanged a look. “Ms. Boles,” Jim said gently, “we don’t know where Lily is. Bear in mind that Wanda was seriously injured and we can’t be certain her story was accurate.”
“Where’s the baby?” Boles demanded, anger overtaking the fear in her voice. “Did that lowdown fool do something to Lily?”
“Ms. Larkin,” Trinity took up where Jim had left off, “stated that her ex-husband had taken Lily. Do you have any idea where he might have taken her? Where he lives or works?”
“Why aren’t the police doing something?” she shrieked. “There’s no telling what he’ll do! He’s a dopehead! A no-good son of a bitch!”
“Ms. Boles,” Trinity said coolly, hoping his rational tone would calm her, “the police are at the hospital with Wanda. They’ll probably be here soon. We’re trying to get a head start on finding the little girl. We promised Wanda we would find her. Anything you can do to help us will help Lily.”
“We need as much information about him as you can provide,” Jim reiterated.
She trembled, took a deep, shaky breath and squared her shoulders. “Kobi lives on the street, as far as I know. Don’t have a job or a phone. But,” she said when Jim would have interrupted, “the one thing I know for sure is that he hangs around with some other troublemakers over in Rogers Park.” She shook her head. “I don’t know any names of his friends,” she added before Trinity could ask. “I heard Wanda say something about his friends in Rogers Park when she was yelling at him the last time he had the nerve to show up here. Before he broke her jaw. A couple of months ago.”
“We’ll check it out.” Jim pulled a business card from his jacket pocket. “Ms. Boles, please call us if you think of anything else or hear anything related to Mr. Larkin or Lily.”
Boles accepted the card, stared at it a long moment. “What about the police?” She looked to Jim first, then to Trinity. “Won’t they come here, too? Aren’t you working with them? Do they understand that he’s capable of anything? Just because he’s Lily’s father doesn’t mean he’ll take care of her.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Trinity answered, “the police will likely be here soon and have questions for you, as well. As we explained, we’re trying to get a head start with locating the father so we can help Lily.”
“Every second we waste,” Jim said, his tone dull, emotionless, “may be the one that could have made the difference in how this turns out. You have my word that we’ll do everything possible.” He moved around the bewildered woman and headed for the door. “Call if you think of anything at all.”
“Thank you, Ms. Boles.” Trinity tried to reassure her with his eyes. “We’ll find Lily.” He started for the door.
“If it’s not too late already,” Ms. Boles called after him. “Kobi’s crazy. He could do anything.”
Trinity didn’t slow his momentum.
Jim was right.
Every second counted.
Chapter Three
Toy World, 3:40 p.m.
The police arrived at the toy store a full three minutes after Von, forcing her to adopt a different strategy for questioning employees.
In the past fifteen minutes they had taken four employees, one at a time, into the manager’s office for questioning. Von couldn’t eavesdrop so she had initiated her own approach.
First she’d visually examined the sidewalk and street in front of the toy store. No blood. Didn’t make sense. The woman had been bleeding. Quite possibly her coat, assuming she had been wearing one at the time, had soaked up the initial blood lost. But where was her coat?
According to Victoria, the incident had taken place on the sidewalk in front of the store. Since the checkout counter and the restrooms were at the back of the store, it made sense to Von that any employee who’d witnessed the confrontation would have been working the aisles at the front of the store.
Von wandered the action figure aisle, the end closest to the two-story glass store front, and watched for the red apron the employees wore. The last-minute shoppers were out in full force. The thick crowd helped her to blend in. She glanced at the street beyond the heavily decorated wall of glass. Von doubted the two police cruisers parked out front were discouraging business since Christmas was just three days away. Some parents would walk over hot coals or dodge flying bullets to fulfill their kids’ Christmas wishes.
Which was dumb in Von’s opinion. Christma
s was a waste of energy and resources.
A young guy, younger than her twenty-eight, rolled a float stacked high with boxes onto the aisle where Von waited. Depending on how long he’d been stocking these shelves he may have witnessed the confrontation between Larkin and her ex.
Half a dozen steps and she stood right behind the store clerk. “Excuse me.”
He didn’t turn around or acknowledge her presence.
She tapped him on the shoulder.
He jumped.
Then she saw the reason he hadn’t heard her. His shoulder-length hair hid the wire extending from his ear to his MP3 player.
He snatched the earbud free and jammed it into his apron pocket. “Can I help you?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, sorry.” He forced a smile. “How may I help you, ma’am?”
The distinct flicker of worry in his eyes warned that he’d committed this transgression before and wanted no part of that kind of trouble again.
“Have you been stocking on this aisle all afternoon?” Might as well get straight to the point.
He glanced past her, then searched her face a moment as if attempting to determine if she was a spy for management. “Since about one.”
She hitched a thumb toward the front window. “My best friend had a big fight right outside with her ex. Did you see it happen?”
He stiffened. “I already talked to the police. I told ’em everything I know.”
Von produced a trembling smile. “I can’t get the police to tell me anything and I’m really worried. She’s at the hospital and her ex took her little girl.” Von shrugged. “I really want to find that bastard before he does something even more stupid.”
The clerk licked his lips, checked both directions of the aisle. “I wish I could help you.” He shrugged. “I really do. But I really did tell the cops all I know.” He gestured to the floor to ceiling, wall to wall window. “I could see them arguing but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. The dude grabbed the kid’s hand and walked off. The woman ran after him. Looked like she was yelling but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.”
“Which way did they go?”
He pointed left and shrugged again. “That’s all I know.”
Von gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
The police would continue questioning employees until they were certain no one had seen or heard anything. Von had other plans.
If the violent part of the confrontation hadn’t happened in front of the store, then it had to have occurred after the ex walked away with the kid in tow. Von moved out the front entrance and turned left.
Concentrating on the snowy sidewalk, she passed a restaurant, a bookstore and a pharmacy. When she reached the end of the block she turned around and retraced her steps.
No blood. Just the slush of snow beaten down by foot traffic.
How far had Larkin and her ex gone before the physical confrontation occurred? The Colby Agency was five blocks away. A street over and four blocks down. The woman had been bleeding profusely. Wherever she was attacked, presumably with a knife, there would be blood close by. If not on the sidewalk near the toy store…if not in front of witnesses who surely would have called the police— It had to be in a more secluded place. Some place no one would look on a busy afternoon only a few shopping days from Christmas.
Von checked the wide alley between the pharmacy and the bookstore. Some trash, a few empty boxes and a Dumpster but no blood. Double-checking as she retraced her steps, she returned to the sidewalk and moved on to the next possibility.
Between the restaurant and the toy store was another alley, this one too narrow for the city’s garbage truck. Again there were empty boxes. A couple of garbage cans and not much else.
“Damn it.” Had Wanda Larkin gotten disoriented and confused the location of the confrontation? Maybe she’d followed the jerk a considerable distance from the toy store.
Von ventured deeper into the alley. As she neared the end where the alley gave way to another sidewalk and street, her gaze snagged on a dark spot. Not mud or other grime. This was distinctly rusty in color. The snow was a slushy mess from the foot traffic but there was something…
She touched the spot, assessed the smudge on her fingertip.
Definitely blood.
Her heart rate accelerated as anticipation fired in her veins.
At the intersection of the alley and the parallel street that ran behind the toy store another stack of boxes were overturned and scattered.
More blood.
Von dragged box after box aside…a woman’s coat had been wadded into a ball and tossed to the side. Von cautiously unrolled the coat. The lining was bloodstained. Fur-lined ankle boots were hidden behind more boxes…and socks—all bloodstained.
Judging by the amount of blood on the ground, Von estimated that Wanda Larkin had been immobile and hemorrhaging heavily for several minutes. Lying on the frigid ground with no coat and no shoes.
Fury roared through Von as she pieced together the story the elements of the scene revealed.
The ex had meant for Wanda to die.
Von sat back on her haunches and surveyed the scene once more. Larkin had stabbed his ex-wife or slashed at her with the knife. Von inspected the coat, noted the hole in the garment. Not an extended tear in the fabric, a distinct hole. No slash. He’d stabbed her. He’d hit her or pushed her hard enough to knock her unconscious or stun her, at least for a few minutes. Then he’d stripped off her coat and boots, tried to camouflage her body and walked away.
Leaving her to die.
Exposure to the extreme cold would have hastened the outcome.
“Bastard.” Von pushed to her feet and double-timed it back to the toy store. She tracked down the guy she’d questioned before. “Do me a favor.” The clerk didn’t look too gung-ho, but Von went on, “Tell the police there’s blood in the alley between this store and the restaurant next door.”
The guy’s eyes rounded. “Blood?”
“Tell them!” Von ordered as she backed down the aisle toward the exit. “Tell them now.”
She didn’t wait around to get caught up in questioning. Her SUV was in the parking garage down the block and across the street. On the way, she put in a call to Victoria and explained what she’d discovered near the toy store.
“Von, I want you to rendezvous with Jim and Trinity,” Victoria instructed. “They’re en route to Rogers Park. The ex-husband reportedly lives or spends time in the area.”
“Do we have his name or a description?” Von asked, pushing aside the automatic reaction that had nothing to do with this case.
“His name is Kobi Larkin. Research is sending a DMV photo to your phones now. Also, Trinity obtained a photo of the child at the mother’s apartment. He’ll forward that to you as well.” Victoria hesitated. “And, Von, tread cautiously,” she warned. “Keep me posted. I’ll follow up with Chicago PD.”
“On my way,” Von assured the chief of the Colby Agency as she sprinted to her SUV. Her mind raced ahead of her…to Rogers Park.
To him.
Trinity Barrett.
Living in the same city with him wasn’t the end of the world. Not at all. Chicago was plenty big enough that running into each other wasn’t exactly that big of an issue. He’d worked in the high-class section of the city; she’d worked on the fringes. Hadn’t been a problem…until this year.
From the moment Jim Colby had told her the Equalizers were merging with the Colby Agency, Von had known this moment might come.
But she’d hoped.
She’d even prayed.
Well, sort of.
Now the nightmare she’d wished to avoid was becoming reality.
She would be forced to work with Trinity Barrett, her ex-husband.
After hitting the key fob and climbing into the driver’s seat of her SUV, she jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine. She took a slow, deep breath and relaxed to the degree possible.
She could do this.
It
wasn’t the end of the world, Von reminded herself. Not really. Yes, it would be awkward and annoying and damned frustrating working with him. But there was every reason to anticipate that she would certainly survive the challenge.
He, however, might not.
Chapter Four
Rogers Park, 4:30 p.m. (3 hours missing)
Trinity waited at the corner of the block, the rendezvous point.
She was almost here.
Evonne Cassidy. Von. His ex-wife.
Trinity hiked his shoulders in an effort to relieve some of the stress. He should have resigned ten months ago when Victoria announced that the Equalizers were merging with the Colby Agency. But Trinity loved his work at the Colby Agency. He’d hoped that Von would do the right thing and decide not to come onboard at the agency.
But she’d done exactly the opposite.
Five years ago they had made the decision to end their volatile relationship. Problem was, neither of them had been willing to leave Chicago. Determined to make a fresh start Trinity had, in time, signed on with the Colby Agency. A couple years later he’d heard through mutual friends that Von had taken a position at another PI type firm, but he hadn’t known until a few days later that it was Victoria Colby’s son’s firm.
That fact hadn’t been a problem until this year.
Until then, Trinity and Von hadn’t spoken since the divorce finalized, not for any reason. Shortly after the announced merger earlier this year, they’d had a face-to-face meeting in neutral territory. A decision to keep their history private had been reached. There had been no need to drag their tumultuous shared past into the present. They would be cordial to each other at work and if they were lucky, a mutual assignment wouldn’t come up.
So much for luck.
He watched her SUV roll to a stop at the curb. This was it. No turning back.
They were professionals. They were both dedicated to their work. There was no time to deal with personal issues under the circumstances.
A child was in danger.
Von slid from behind the wheel, shoved the door shut with her hip and hit the key fob to initiate the vehicle’s security system. Her trendy slacks and matching coat were signature Von. She liked being comfortable, but she never sacrificed fashion to make it happen. Somehow she always looked like she’d just stepped off a runway in the most casual of clothes.
