“Moon’s still the same person.”
“Yeah, I know.” Melba sighed. “I need to keep telling myself that. It might take me awhile though. She’s my friend. A good one. She took care of me when I tore my knee all to hell, for heaven’s sake, and put up with my bitching and moaning without word of complaint. That’s actually more shocking than learning Moon used to be some guy named Jefferson.”
“You got that right. Give it time, and if it still bothers you, do a little research and learn about people’s stories. That helps make it less abstract.”
“Good idea.” She started to put her key in the ignition and then stopped. “So….you and Jon, uh?”
“Yeah, I guess so. At least, for now.”
“And…?
“And what?”
“You know darned well what I’m asking, Toby!”
He grinned and then stretched and yawned. “I think I need to hit the hay.”
“I bet that’s not all you’ll be doing,” she mumbled under her breath. “Try to get some sleep. I have a hunch things are about to get more interesting, and not in a good way.”
***
Detective Anthony Mitchell scrambled for his phone, hoping to silence the ringer before it woke Bradley.
“Detective Mitchell speaking,” he whispered as he threw back the covers. Walking into the bathroom, he listened to the dispatcher, then hung up. He quickly dressed and slipped on his holster. Working quietly, he unlocked the gun safe in the bedroom to retrieve his revolver.
“Mitchell? What is it?” asked the sleepy voice from the bed.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I have to go.”
“Okay. You want me to make some coffee? It’ll just take a minute or two.”
“Thanks, Bradley, but I’ll stop and get something on the way.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on top of the bed-tosseled head of silver hair. “Try to go back to sleep.”
“Call me when you get a chance.”
“I will. Talk to you later.”
He closed the bedroom door quietly, shaking his head at the gentle snore. Thirty minutes later, he parked beside one of the forensic team’s white SUVs. A quick surveillance of the area confirmed the coroner was already on the scene. He got out of his car, balancing the two large cups of coffee in his hands.
“What have we got?” he asked Thorton as he handed over one of the cups.
“Same as last time,” his partner replied after he gulped down a swallow of the now lukewarm brew. “She hasn’t been chewed all to hell, but otherwise, it’s just as bad— if not worse.”
Mitchell caught sight of the body lying face down on the ground next to the dumpster. Another young girl, clothed in a shapeless gray smock. Too thin. Barefoot. Bruising visible on the back of the legs, even from his positon a few feet away. He stepped in closer once Anderson gave him a wave of permission and watched as Anderson helped Laurie Nelson roll her carefully over on her back. The coffee was forgotten in his hand as he took in the glazed, vacant eyes. He had to fight the rising wave of nausea threatening to bring up the liquid caffeine from his stomach. The lower half of the victim’s face was puffy and the red, inflamed area around the mouth was almost garish against the dead, gray pallor of her skin.
Four large safety pins, almost encased by swollen flesh, were punched through the skin at the top and bottoms of her lips. He closed his eyes to block out the sight, but the image was burned on his retinas. Even in her current state, he recognized her features from the file photos of missing children.
“Do you recognize her?” Tom asked.
“Yes.” He opened his eyes and nodded to the man kneeling next to the body. “Her name is Lauren.”
He watched from the sidelines as the coroner’s team moved forward with the gurney and carefully loaded the body.
“How about this, boss?” Lurie asked, indicating the object on the ground next to the dumpster.
“Yeah, better take it. You never know.”
She nodded, then bagged it and attached a tag with a description and evidence number. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a suitcase this color. I didn’t even know they came in purple.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“That was an experience!” Melba exclaimed as she followed Toby through the door into the office reception area. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a more unpleasant person.”
“Yeah, she’s a piece of work,” he agreed as he locked the door behind them. “It’s hard to believe Moon is her daughter.”
Melba stomped her way past the first couch and collapsed onto the second. She raked her fingers through her hair before leaning back and closing her eyes. “I could sleep right here for about a week.”
“Were you able to get any rest?”
“Not really,” she replied from her half-recline. “How about you?”
“A little. I woke up feeling pretty good though, other than maybe being a little sore. But in a good way.”
“I don’t want to hear about it! You’re disgusting!”
“Jealous?”
“Well…maybe.” She opened one eye and gave him an annoyed snort. “I don’t want to hear about whatever you and Jon Chiang got up to last night.”
“Last night and early this morning.”
She groaned from the couch. “Really? Twice?”
“Nope.”
In spite of herself, she opened both eyes in astonishment. “More?”
“Uh huh.”
“Three times?”
“Guess again.”
She closed her eyes again and snuggled against the leather upholstery. “Forget it. I don’t really want to know.”
Toby started counting in his head, making it all the way to fifteen before she sat back up.
“Okay, I do want to know. How many?”
He held up one hand and spread the fingers.
“Four times?”
“You forgot to count the thumb.”
Her head hit the back of the couch with a thud. “I didn’t even think that was possible.”
“Me either. You want me to make a pot of coffee?”
“Oh God, yes! I shouldn’t, but we still need to go over our notes. I don’t think I’ll make it otherwise.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you back in the office.”
A few minutes later, Melba gratefully accepted the mug full of nirvana he handed over along with a couple of store-bought cookies.
“Do you think she had anything to do with Diane’s disappearance?” he asked, munching down on his own piece of chocolate chip goodness.
“Heck if I know.” She brushed a few crumbs off her lap onto the floor and dug her notebook out of her purse. “If I look at it objectively— which I admit is hard to do with no sleep— I have to say, probably not. After spending an hour with her, I almost wish I could find a reason to believe she was a real suspect, but underneath all the meanness and holier-than-thou attitude she was dishing out, she was truly upset. What do you think?”
“I agree, but my instincts aren’t as good as yours yet. Did you notice the empty liquor bottles in the kitchen?”
“Yes, and if my eyes hadn’t seen the bottles, my noise couldn’t have missed the smell. You find anything when you ran her information through the system?”
Toby picked up the folder on the edge of his desk and opened it with one hand while his other snagged another cookie. “Not much,” he said, around a mouth full of rapidly vanishing crumbs. “She is reliant on Moon for money. She gets a small social security check, but no other agency support. Not even food stamps. She only has one low limit credit card, which is charged to the max. Other than that, she has a debit card and a small savings account. House is paid for, which surprised me, until I figured out it belonged to her parents.”
“Any arrest history?”
“No, although there’s one DUI charge, which was later dropped. That was about eighteen months ago. There’s also a couple of complaints related to domestic disturbances. Those are more recent. Moon did say D
iane and her mother fought a lot.”
“Nothing else? How about other family members? An ex?”
“No other family members, except for a couple of cousins up in Raleigh. No record of her having ever been married.”
“In other words—squat.”
“Pretty much. How’d it go down at the station? Did you have any problems?”
“No problems. The nice desk sergeant took down all of the info and only raised one very bushy eyebrow when Moon’s information was pulled up on the system.”
“Why he do that?
“She. The sergeant on duty was a woman. Anyway, state and local records are flagged when there is a registered change of sex. Thankfully, Moon correctly completed all of the paperwork several years ago, once she was officially a she. Otherwise, we’d probably still be there.”
“At least that’s taken care of.”
“Not quite.”
Toby watched her face carefully while finishing off the last cookie. Something about her tone set his radar to buzzing. “What do you mean?” he asked, not sure her wanted to hear the answer.
“I mean, I’m going to make a follow-up visit down to police headquarters tomorrow morning.”
“To do what, exactly?”
“I’m just going to chat with the detectives assigned to the missing children cases.” She avoided meeting his eyes, and kept her focus on folding the empty cookie bag into a neat little square. “The case is Mitchell’s.”
“Oh.”
“Then, I’m going to stop by and see Kelly.”
“Police Chief Kelly?”
“Yes.”
“Melba, what good do you think that’ll do? He pretty much hates your guts.”
“The feeling’s mutual. I just want to give him the head’s up that we’re working on something that might be related.”
“Why?”
She gave the bag one more precise crease and tossed it into the wastebasket. “So he knows I’m watching. So he knows someone he can’t bully cares about these kids being found.”
“You want me to come with?”
“Nope. Keep your phone handy, though. I may need you to come bail me out of jail.”
“That’s doesn’t make me feel any better. You’re just going to mention it and then, get the heck out, right?”
She picked up her purse and hitched it up on one shoulder. “Yes, sir. That’s all,” she affirmed with a sunny smile. “After all, it’s only professional courtesy. Now, I’m going to go home and get reacquainted with my sorely missed mattress. Don’t stay too late. I’m sure you have other things to do this evening.”
“I won’t. But I’m not sure I’m going to do anything other than fix something for dinner and watch a movie. I might call Grams. Speaking of which, did you talk to Abby? Is she going to come for the party?”
“Yes, and yes. She’s bringing the girls and Will’s coming with them.”
“Cool. It’ll be nice to see them.”
“Yes, it will. On that happy thought, I’ll leave you to finish up, so you can head home for your ‘quiet evening at home.’ I still suspect there’s a booty call in the works, though.”
“It’s not a booty call!”
“Ah, so it’s serious, then?”
“No, at least, I don’t think so. We both agreed we’re not ready for anything serious right now. It’s just a couple of good friends enjoying each other’s company.”
“Oh, like fuck buddies.”
“Melba! Where’d you learn that term?”
“I read.”
“I’m not even going ask what kind of books you’re reading in your spare time. And it’s not that either.”
“So, it’s more of a friends with benefits sort of thing?”
“Go home!” he shouted, pointing to the door. “Right now. Go home.”
Melba kept laughing all the way to the front door, and continued until she reached her car and had started the engine. “Lucky bastard,” she told the steering wheel as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Good for you, Toby,” she whispered to the front window of the Reightman & Bailey Agency. “Good for you.”
***
Special Agent Allen Edmondson, senior member of the region’s human trafficking task force, waited patiently for Chief Ernest Kelly’s office door to open. He’d already charmed Nancy, and flashed her another winning smile when she informed him it should just be a couple of more minutes.
“No worries,” he assured her, trying not to pay any attention to the voices clearly audible through the door. He leaned his tall, rangy frame up against the wall, and scrolled through his email on his phone. The voices increased in both volume and virulence, and it took all of his considerable willpower to prevent his head from snapping toward the sound. A quick glance up from his phone confirmed Nancy was made of lesser stuff. Her eyes were glued to the door, and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. A split second later, the door crashed open with a bang and one highly irritated, short, curly-headed tornado burst out of the office. The stream of words spewing from her mouth was loud, highly creative, and very unflattering to her host. She shot a fiery glance his way, then hitched up the biggest, ugliest purse he’d ever seen, before dismissing him without a backward glance.
She passed out of sight a moment later, though he could still make out the sound of her voice echoing down the corridor.
Chief Kelly stepped out of his office, face still bright red from the encounter. He glared at his secretary and growled low in his throat. “If you ever let that bitch anywhere near this office again, you’re fired. You got that?”
“Yes, sir,” Nancy answered meekly. She pointed to Edmondson’s spot on the opposite wall. “You have an official visitor, sir. The appointment is on your calendar.”
Kelly wheeled around and drew himself up to his full height. “Who the hell are you, and what do you want?”
Edmondson slipped his cell phone into his pocket and strode forward with outstretched hand. “Special Agent Allen Edmondson, Federal Bureau of Investigation. I believe we have an appointment.”
Kelly ignored the outstretched hand. “They sent you to help me with my case. Is that what you’re here to tell me?”
Edmondson allowed his hand to drop to his side. Kelly was obviously spoiling for a fight. If that’s the way the man wanted to play it, far be it from him to argue. “No. They sent me to make sure you and your department are fully prepared to help with what is now, officially, my case. Let me make myself clear, so you have no trouble understanding me. I’ll even use little words. This case, and any related case, is now under my authority. That’s what I’m here to tell you.”
Allen didn’t think the Chief’s face could get any redder, but he was surprised to find it could. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I already introduced myself, real friendly like. Even offered a handshake, which you ignored. That being the case, I’ll give you another hint. I’m someone who is so far above your paygrade and authority level, I might as well be breathing different air.” He let the big man stew for a minute and hoped he wouldn’t get pushed any further. Not because he was afraid of taking the next step, but because he really wanted to work this out and play nice. When Kelly finally expelled a deep breath of air, he knew he’d won round one of what was sure to be an ongoing battle. Better save the big guns for another day, if possible. “Perhaps, we should step into your office? And I was expecting to find the detectives assigned to the case waiting. Any way you can round ‘em up?”
“Nancy, track down Thorton and Mitchell and have them get their asses over here.” He stuffed his big hands down into his pockets and jingled a few coins while Nancy picked up the phone. “I thought you all ran in packs. You have a partner floating around somewhere?”
“Agent Garfield has been detained in Atlanta. She’ll be joining me tomorrow.”
“A woman?”
“A very capable agent. And take my advice, because she scares the shit out of me. You don’t want to try out any
of your attitude on her. She won’t warn you before she has you ass over elbows waiting for your short, sad hearing on obstruction charges. She’s not nice, like I try to be on first acquaintance.”
Nancy put down the phone and took advantage of the silence that followed. “Thorton and Mitchell are on their way, sir.”
Without another word, Kelly turned and stormed into his office, leaving Edmondson to follow.
***
“That was Nancy,” Thorton told him when he put down the phone. “Feds are here, and Kelly wants us in his office ten minutes ago.”
Mitchell stood from his desk and grabbed the case file. “We’d better break the sound barrier, then. Maybe we can turn back time.”
“I always liked that song,” Thorton commented as they threaded their way through the jumble of occupied desk, showing his appreciation by humming a few bars.
Nancy looked up as they approached and shook her head in warning of dangerous waters ahead. “Go on in, Detectives. He and his guest are waiting.”
As they entered, a tall man clad in a stereotypical black suit stood from his chair in front of Kelly’s desk. Even given the suit, he looked more like outdoorsman than a Fed. His dark, wavy red hair was brushed back from his forehead and the sides were liberally streaked with gray. His outdoorsy tan set off hazel eyes, and Mitchell noticed a generous sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
“Introduce yourselves, dammit!” The Chief barked. “Don’t you have any manners?”
They hurriedly obliged, and Mitchell found himself wondering why the small, almost private smile suddenly appeared on the agent’s face. He clasped the offered hand as he introduced himself, and Mitchell decided then and there this guy might not be so bad.
“Nancy!” The Chief shouted. “Drag another chair in here, then shut the door. Hold all calls.”
Once the chair materialized, Mitchell felt tiny beads of sweat gather underneath his arms when Chuck unexpectedly turned the responsibility for the briefing over to him. He opened his files and passed around the notes he’d prepared just that morning. Nancy shut the door with a soft click, and he went about the business of bringing Special Agent Edmondson up to speed.
Skin Puppet: Reightman & Bailey Book Three Page 26
