Wicked

by Jana DeLeon

  She started the car and drove to the nurse’s office, making sure she overdid her limp as she walked inside. The nurse, an older woman who’d retired from the hospital a couple years before, took one look at her as she entered and shook her head.

  “You poor thing,” the nurse said. “What’s wrong?”

  “I banged up my knee pretty good last night,” Tara said. “I cleaned it well and put antibiotic cream on it, but it hurts to walk and it’s throbbing. I’m afraid it might be getting infected.”

  The nurse waved her toward the examination room. “Sit on the table and pull up your pants leg so I can take a look.”

  Tara climbed onto the table and exposed her knee. The nurse removed the bandage and inspected the wound, touched the red area around it with two fingers, then touched her calf in two different places.

  “You did a decent job with the bandage,” the nurse said. “Knees are a tough one to keep covered unless you have the luxury of not walking. How did it happen?”

  “I fell last night on my way from the library to my dorm room.”

  The nurse raised one eyebrow. “Must have been walking pretty fast to do that kind of damage. It looks like you skidded some, the way the skin tore.”

  “I was running, actually,” Tara said, seeing no reason to lie about part of the event. “It was dark and someone was following me.”

  The nurse narrowed her eyes at Tara. “Did you get a good look at him?”

  Tara shook her head. “He was in the bushes at first and when I started running I could hear him behind me running as well. I fell trying to look back. I didn’t try again after that.”

  “I don’t blame you. That must have been frightening.”

  “It scared the shit out of me. I’m sorry—the crap.”

  “No apology needed. I imagine it’s an accurate description. I had a guy come after me once when I was in my twenties and had just started at the hospital. I was working the night shift and he followed me to the parking lot. Put a gun in my face and took my wallet and my car.”

  “Oh my God.” Tara couldn’t imagine what she’d have done if her pursuer had caught her, but she was going to guess it would have involved fainting or simply having a heart attack on the spot.

  “I was lucky. He didn’t care anything about a young woman. There’s plenty out there that do. You be careful. Even campus isn’t safe for a woman alone at night. Try to stay with others and if you find yourself alone, call security. They can get out of that shack and walk you to your dorm.”

  “That’s a good idea. Right now, my plan is to never be alone in the dark. Well, unless I’m sleeping.”

  The nurse smiled. “Good plan.” She opened a cabinet behind her and took out bandages and gauze. “I’m going to clean this again and re-bandage it. It looks a little inflamed, which could be the start of an infection or from the bandage rubbing on it. The skin around it feels a little warmer to the touch than uninjured parts of your leg, so I’ll play it safe and give you an antibiotic.”

  “Thank you. The last thing I need is an infection. It’s hard enough to walk now.”

  “It’s quite a hike from the dorms. Do you have a car?”

  “No, but I borrowed a friend’s.”

  “Smart. The more you can avoid walking, the quicker that wound will close.”

  “Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to go back to my dorm and sit on the rec room couch with my laptop, but I have a couple of professors who will mark off for no attendance.”

  The nurse shook her head. “Don’t you worry about them. I’ll write you a pass and they can’t say a thing about it. I imagine after something like that, you wouldn’t be much use in a classroom anyway. No sense risking your grade point average because you need a couple days to recover from a big scare. I’ll be right back with the rest of the supplies.”

  Ten minutes later, Tara was back in Ethan’s car, a package of antibiotics and a nurse’s pass in her hand. Her knee smarted a little from all the activity and the cleaning, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the display. It hadn’t made a peep all morning, but she couldn’t help looking.

  Tara had awakened early, but Shaye was already gone. She’d left Tara a note on her desk that she was going to check on something and would call her later that morning. They’d talked for hours the night before, Tara telling Shaye everything she knew about Ethan, hoping something would help the detective find him. Then Shaye had shown Tara security footage from the convenience store, hoping Tara might recognize some of the students who had entered the store around the time Ethan disappeared. But although a couple of them looked somewhat familiar, Tara didn’t know any names.

  She wondered what Shaye was checking on and if she’d found out anything useful. Ethan had been missing over two days now, and Brenda had received the text the day before. Time was running out. They needed to find Ethan before what happened to Amber happened to him.

  Her cell phone rang and she let out a yelp, then mentally chastised herself for being so jumpy. She saw Shaye’s name in the display and hurried to answer.

  “How are you doing?” Shaye asked.

  “Okay. I just had the nurse check out my knee. I got antibiotics and a two-day pass from classes.”

  “Good, because I need you to go with me to the police station and file a report.”

  “Why? They didn’t want to listen last time.”

  “I’ve arranged for you to speak to Detective Grayson. He’ll listen. I promise.”

  Tara bit her lip. “Does that mean you’re quitting the case?”

  “No. But I think this is bigger than either one of us realized, and the police need to know what we know. I’ll still look for Ethan.”

  Some of the tension left Tara’s shoulders. With Shaye and the police looking for Ethan, surely they could find him before things got really bad.

  “Have you eaten breakfast?” Shaye asked.

  “What? Uh, no.”

  “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. We’ll have a nice breakfast so you can take those antibiotics, then we’ll go talk to Detective Grayson.”

  “Okay.” Breakfast sounded nice and she was hungry. Plus, it would give her time to prepare to talk to the police again. Maybe she’d flubbed it the first time and that’s why they didn’t take her seriously. But they had to if she was with Shaye, right?

  “See you in thirty,” Shaye said and disconnected.

  Tara tossed her phone on the passenger seat with the drugs and the pass and started the car. Everything was going to work out. She’d talk to the police and they would find Ethan, and everything would go back to the way it was before all this crazy shit started happening.

  She was going to keep repeating that until she believed it.

  13

  Jackson stared down at the girl in the abandoned house and shook his head. How many more young people were going to die before they figured out what was going on? The girl in front of him had yet to be identified, but her hoodie had the university name on it and she looked the right age to be a student. That made three dead and one missing from the same school.

  He looked over at Grayson, who blew out a breath. Grayson’s frustrated and somewhat nervous expression let Jackson know that his senior officer had reached the same conclusion Jackson had.

  “We’ve got a real problem here,” Grayson said.

  Jackson glanced around to make sure no one was standing close enough to overhear. “We’ve got a serial killer.”

  “Shit! When is this city going to catch a break?”

  Jackson shook his head. “I’m hoping before the boy Shaye told me about this morning winds up like this girl.”

  Grayson ran his hand through his hair. “You said she’s bringing the girl in this morning to file a missing persons report, right?”

  “Yeah. I gave her the go-ahead as soon as you agreed to do the interview. I don’t want the girl running up against Vincent a second time or she may n
ever talk to police again.”

  “Good. We have to find that boy before he’s another name on a toe tag.”

  “If he’s not already prepped for the position.”

  “You’ve got to think positive,” Grayson said. “I know it’s hard, especially with everything you just went through, and it’s even worse because it all centered on someone you care about, but you’ve got to keep your mind on all the people you save. You can’t dwell on the ones you couldn’t or you’ll be looking for another career.”

  “I know.” Jackson had been telling himself for months that the work he’d done with Shaye had saved lives. A serial killer, stalker, and a human trafficker had been eliminated from the population, and there was no telling how many lives that saved over the next decades. But it was hard to absorb the ones already lost and even harder to absorb the damage that those still living had to cope with every day.

  Grayson glanced around, then looked at Jackson. “You and I need to talk. We’ve maintained a working relationship, but we’re not in sync like we were before and we’re never going to be again until the air is cleared.”

  Jackson nodded. It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to, but it was one that was long overdue. Grayson was right. Neither of them was clicking on all cylinders. Grayson was still pissed that Jackson had suspected him of being the man who’d kidnapped Shaye and tortured her, and Jackson still felt guilty for suspecting him, even though the evidence had strongly supported the idea. It was time for them to talk it out, get over themselves, and get back to solving crimes and saving lives with their combined ability working at 100 percent.

  “Let’s finish up here,” Jackson said, “and see if we have time for coffee before we head back to the station.”

  “You want to have this discussion in a coffee shop?”

  “I figure you can’t shoot me there.”

  Tara clutched her purse strap as she walked into the police station behind Shaye. The desk sergeant’s eyes widened when he saw Shaye and he jumped up from his chair and came around the desk to hug her.

  “It’s great to see you,” he said. “And you look good. How are you? How is your mother?”

  “We’re both fine,” Shaye said. “Considering. How are you doing?”

  The desk sergeant’s expression changed from happy to immensely sad. “It’s been rough. I never would have believed that Bernard could, you know, go that way instead of facing the music. I worked with him for thirty-five years and in a single moment, realized that I never knew him at all.”

  “I understand,” Shaye said.

  “Yeah, I suppose you do,” the desk sergeant said. “What can I help you ladies with?”

  “We have a meeting with Detective Grayson,” Shaye said.

  The desk sergeant nodded. “He’s in interview room three. You know the way.”

  “Thank you,” Shaye said, and motioned Tara toward a door that led into a long hallway with numbered rooms on each side.

  One. Two.

  Tara counted as they walked and when she saw the big black 3, she drew up short. Shaye turned around and gave her a sympathetic look.

  “I promise it will be fine,” Shaye said. “Detective Grayson is a good cop. Just answer his questions as best you can, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

  Tara took in a huge breath and slowly blew it out, then she nodded and Shaye knocked on the door, then poked her head in. A second later she motioned for Tara to follow. As Tara stepped inside the room she saw two men standing near the door. One was older and looked very proper. The other was younger and really cute. He and Shaye looked at each other and immediately, Tara saw the chemistry. It perked her up a bit. A happy thing in the middle of all this bad.

  “This is Tara Chatry,” Shaye said. “Tara, this is Detective Lamotte and Detective Grayson.”

  Detective Grayson stuck out his hand to Tara and she shook it, still feeling a bit insecure.

  “Thank you for coming down,” Detective Grayson said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Tara held up the bottled water she’d gotten at the café where she and Shaye had eaten breakfast. “No, thank you.”

  “Then let’s have a seat and get started,” Detective Grayson said. “I’ll be recording this interview, if that’s okay.”

  Tara slid into a chair next to Shaye and across from the two detectives and nodded. “Whatever you need to do. I just want you to find my friend.”

  Detective Grayson nodded. “That’s what we want as well.”

  “Where do you want me to start?” Tara asked, confused about whether her story started with Ethan disappearing or with the weird text.

  “Why don’t you start with the text Ethan received,” Detective Grayson said, “and then we can work forward from there.”

  Tara took a drink of her water, then started talking. She told the detectives about the text, about Ethan’s disappearance, and about her less-than-positive experience with Detective Vincent that led her to hiring Shaye. Detective Grayson looked frustrated when she described how Detective Vincent had dismissed her concerns outright. Detective Lamotte just looked pissed.

  When she finished, the detectives asked her some questions to clarify points and then there was a silent pause. Shaye looked over at her.

  “Tell the detectives what happened at the library yesterday,” Shaye said. “And afterward.”

  Tara felt her pulse tick up a notch and her palms started to sweat as she recounted her conversation with Brenda and her flight from the stalker. The detectives listened intently, both of them leaning forward over the table as she talked.

  When she was finished, Detective Lamotte asked, “You’re sure her name was Brenda?”

  Tara nodded.

  “Brenda Lewis,” Shaye said. “I traced her cell phone number.”

  The two detectives glanced at each other, and it was clear from their expressions that they weren’t happy.

  “What is it?” Shaye asked. “Something’s happened.”

  Detective Grayson blew out a breath. “This is confidential information so neither of you can speak of it outside these walls, but since it appears Ms. Chatry is in danger, I think it’s only fair that she be aware of the facts.”

  Tara dropped her hands in her lap and clutched the edges of her T-shirt. “What facts?”

  “Brenda Lewis was discovered this morning in an abandoned house,” Detective Grayson said. “She was murdered.”

  Tara’s hand flew up involuntarily over her mouth. “Oh my God! But it hadn’t been two days. The text said she had two days to find Ethan before he took her.”

  Detective Grayson cleared his throat. “There was a note on the body. It said Cheater.”

  The room began to spin as the magnitude of what Detective Grayson said registered completely with Tara. Panic set in and she started to hyperventilate.

  “She told me,” Tara said, placing her arms on the table to keep from swaying. “She told me so he killed her. And now he’s after me. He must have seen her tell me. It was him that chased me.”

  Shaye leaned closer and put her hand on Tara’s arm. “I need you to breathe. A long breath in, then slowly out. Just like last night. Go ahead.”

  Tara stared at a blurry Shaye, her chest burning from the lack of oxygen, and she forced herself to drag in a breath. Slowly, she let the air out and the room stopped moving. Then everything started to come back into focus.

  “Another breath,” Shaye said, “then drink some water.”

  Tara focused on her breathing, now completely embarrassed that she’d lost control in front of the detectives. They probably thought she was some weepy, incompetent girl who couldn’t handle anything.

  “You have every right to be afraid,” Detective Lamotte said quietly. “In fact, it’s better if you’re afraid because then you’ll be more aware.”

  Tara felt some of her shame slip away. The detective was right. If this accomplished nothing else, she’d be questioning everywhere she went, what time she we
nt, who she went with, and who else was there every time she stepped out of her dorm room.

  “I…” Tara started, then her voice broke. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Am I safe going to class? Do I need to just quit school and go to my aunt’s house? Would I be safe there or would I be exposing my family to all of this? Are the other people in my dorm safe if I’m there?”

  “Let’s work through one thing at a time,” Detective Grayson said. “How critical is class attendance right now?”

  “It’s always critical,” Tara said. “I’m barely scraping As in a couple of classes and I need to keep my grades up. I don’t have much scholarship money, but without it, I’d have to get loans. My parents struggle to make up the rest because they don’t want me to start out in debt. A couple of my professors mark off for no attendance. I guess a note from the police would be excused, but for how long? And how far behind would I be by the time this is over?”

  “Okay, don’t get upset,” Detective Grayson said. “We’d prefer you have as little disruption to your life as possible.”

  Shaye nodded. “It’s better for your mental health to keep your normal routine whenever possible. Trust me, I’m the expert on this.”

  Tara gave Shaye a grateful look. It really helped having someone on her side who knew exactly what it felt like to be so scared and to not even know who to be scared of.

  “How secure is your dorm?” Detective Grayson asked.

  “It’s got one of those keypad entries,” Tara said, “and you have to let people in if they don’t have the code, but I don’t suppose that’s very secure. Everyone gives it to their friends so they don’t have to let them in. But Shaye secured my dorm room for me last night.”