by J. D. Allen
Jim Bean knew that, and not just from tracking lost kids and cheating husbands. More than once he’d considered starting clean himself. But he’d stopped short of doing it illegally. When he was accused of rape in college, he’d lost everything. His life, his friends, his shot at the FBI or the force. Not to mention the money of defending himself against that kind of lie. But he couldn’t clean up a past that lived in his head. He’d moved, changed his name. It had been enough. No one was looking for him. No one cared where he’d gone to hide. He wasn’t hiding like Sophie anyway.
He picked up a sheet that included the timeline of Sophie’s name changes and location changes. That made trip fifty-eight across the room. Grabbed another slip of paper. Fifty-nine. He compared it to the timeline of known vics. Again.
Usually he or Ely could find the trail, the electronic signature of name changes, money moving, auto registrations, utility bills, something. But right here in Dallas four yeas ago, she left. Elizabeth Stanton fell off the face of the virtual world after she … attacked Max. And she’d set him up first. Why?
Jim had to be missing something. Maybe it was just a power trip for Sophie, but why a coworker? He’d consider that very close to shitting in her own kitchen. That one act had her scrambling out of town. Had to be something else there. He made a mental note to call Max tomorrow. Maybe the man had stumbled onto something that would incriminate Sophie. Maybe he didn’t even know it. Or maybe she just lost control one night. Like in a bar in Texas. There was no reason to … assault Jim either. Except ego.
Jim sat on the paper-covered bed. There was nothing worse than failing. The idea of this trip was to find her before she had a chance to attack Dan. Not finding her meant sitting and waiting for her to come to Dan. Bug in a web, waiting on the spider to get hungry. That could take a while. She’d been planning and waiting seven years as it was. Waiting weeks, even months, would wear down his protection detail. Dan’s mom couldn’t take moving around to keep Sophie off their trail. And for that reason, fully going under witness protection wasn’t a good option. Not without a hit to her health.
Jim paced back to the bathroom counter.
Thirteen steps back to the door. Sixtieth time.
His gut tightened. This time it was a bad feeling, not anger or misery over the crummy life that twisted his insides. This was about the case. About Dan. The clock on the wall ticked off a countdown.
Sophie had waited this long. Hiring him had to be to speed up the process. She was so close to her goal. Staying away must be torturing her. Nope. She wouldn’t wait much longer. That meant Jim couldn’t wait either. He needed to do two things right away.
40
“First flight to Vegas in the morning?”
There was some key chatter as the reservations agent put in his request. “Five a.m., Mr. Bean. Would you like me to assign you to that flight? There’s two seats left.”
“Yes.” No sleep for him tonight.
She rattled of a confirmation number. He’d get the email with the details, he wasn’t worried.
“You’re set. Thank you for choosing—”
He disconnected before she finished. The cab hadn’t showed yet. He’d called them first. Thirteen minutes. The clock ticked in his mind. He shouldn’t have let O insist on returning the rental. Tricky way to stick Jim with Ava … Agent Webb. Should have known he’d go out on his own at some point even if Agent Webb wouldn’t be happy.
He waited. It was after eleven. A few shots of scotch had cleared his brain and dampened his tormented emotions.
Lights swung across the drive, the cab rolled to a stop.
“Haskel and 2nd,” Jim said.
“This time a night, gringo?” A Mexican driver looked concerned through the mirror and the glass divider. “Not a good place for a man like you.”
A man like him? What kind of man was he? “There was a restaurant around there. Good food.”
“Ah. Tres Hermanas?”
“Yeah.”
“Still. Bad neighborhood. I can take you to good restaurant closer. Less chance you get shot.”
“Have a crush on one of the waitresses.” Jim shrugged. “Take me there.”
“As you wish, señor.” He shook his head with an it’s your neck look and put the cab in drive and pulled off.
Jim stared out the window and watched the streetlights go by. In the beginning it was all about the money. What would a prostitute do to save money? All the way to south Dallas Jim struggled with his bad feeling. He texted Miller. Everything OK?
Other than Mrs. Hodge is kicking my ass in spades, yes. Anything new there?
Jim said “no” aloud. The cabbie looked back at him.
No.
Traffic was much better late at night than it had been in the afternoon. Cabbie said they were lucky not much was going on at the fairgrounds.
“I not stay here, señor.”
Unlike the traffic, the area looked much worse at night. People hanging around. Drug deals going on. Girls in salty clothing on the corner.
“You be on duty for a while?”
The cabbie handed back a generic card with his number handwritten on it. “Be driving till the bar crowd goes home.” He looked at the closed restaurant. “She might be gone. You sure you want to stay?”
“I’m okay.” Jim checked for his slap-jack in his pocket. The weight of the small metal weapon was reassuring as he got out. The thing would break a jaw bone in an instant, but there were guys with guns out here. No doubt about it, he’d have to take care not to offend the natives. Just a guy looking for a girl.
Jim banged on the front door of Tres Hermanas. Nothing. He waited. Two young black guys walked by. They stared him down. He made eye contact but tried not to threaten their alpha standing in this neighborhood. He jerked his head back slightly. It’s cool. Keep going, dude. The guys returned the gesture and walked on.
He banged again. This time Alejandra peeked around the closed sign. Once she recognized him, she opened the door. “What are you doing here this time of night?”
“Wanted another taco?”
“Liar. You still looking for Elizabeth.”
“I am.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I have been thinking about her since you left. But I can’t imagine anything that might help you find her.”
“I appreciate that, Alejandra. Do you know many of the girls working tonight?”
She looked down, then behind her. They were still alone. “After Elizabeth left, I did start to give them food sometimes. Like she did. Leftover things that are not going to last, you know. Here and there, I patch a few of them up after their man get too rough.”
Jim smiled. Maybe Elizabeth Stanton did have one positive legacy. “You think there might be one of those girls who would be old enough to have been around seven years ago, when Elizabeth worked?”
“You know they don’t last long on the streets.”
“Think for me. That would be someone twenty-five to thirty. Maybe the one the rest of the girls are afraid of.”
“There is one. Um … Jelissa. I bet she was around.” Alejandra worried at the polish on her finger. “But you can’t tell her I sent you. She’s mean. Last I saw her was a couple months ago. Works a couple blocks west, I think. She has mean-ass boys too. You better be careful.”
“Anyone who would put girls through this shit is mean. I’ll watch myself though.” Jim pulled a twenty out of his wallet and tucked it in her apron. “Thanks.”
“You’d be surprised ’bout who is working for who with her. Good luck, mister.”
She locked the door behind him.
41
Three blocks west looked more like a blown-out Middle Eastern war zone than a good place to pick up johns, but there was a four-lane street and an abandoned ball court. The hoops were rusted rings standing guard over a lost court. Three b
enches lined the far part of the tarmac with three girls lounging on one. They noticed him coming.
“We don’t usually get white boys walking up around here.”
The one who spoke was not a pretty girl. Skinny. The way her shirt hung off her shoulder showed deep hollows around her collarbone. Her teeth needed work. But her clothes were clean and her makeup was freshly painted on light black skin. She didn’t smile or make any offers.
He must look too coppish tonight, even in jeans and a black T-shirt. The other two didn’t bother to get up, just shot him skeptical looks and went back to an animated conversation.
“I’m looking for a girl.”
“Aren’t you all?”
He smiled. “I mean I’m a private investigator from Las Vegas. I’m looking for Jelissa.”
She shrugged and looked back at the other girls, who’d stopped their conversation and were now paying attention. “Don’t know no Jelissa.”
Jim pulled a twenty out of his pocket. “She’s not in trouble. I think she might be able to help me find a missing girl. That’s all.” He waggled the bill in front of his principal interviewee.
She glanced back. One of the girls shook her head and turned to face the four-lane. A couple cars went by. They didn’t slow.
Jim pulled out one more twenty. “More than you get a trick, I would guess. All I need is a place.”
She snatched the money. “You shouldn’t flash bills around like that.” She tucked them in her shorts. “Do you know where you are? Gonna get yourself knocked over.”
Unfortunately, he did know where he was. “Surprised you care.” He held out his hands. “Where can I find her?”
“You better not be making trouble.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“No scouts round here. But I’ll tell you. Other side of that warehouse.” She tipped her hip to the right. No pointing. “There’s a little yellow door. She stay in there. You don’t tell her I said so, okay?”
Jim peeled off one more twenty. “Eat a sandwich.”
She huffed and pushed up her tiny tits. “Some like it thin. You want a fat chick, Candy over there is your girl. But I can take care of whatever you need, white boy.”
“I bet you can.” He knew there was no need to give these girls any advice. No need to try and talk them off the street. If their man was watching, just talking too long could get them beat. He’d seen enough of that in Vegas.
“Thanks,” he said loud enough for them all to hear. “You girls be safe.” He walked back across the empty courts to the dark warehouse. “Why does it always have to be a dark warehouse?” he asked no one.
But it was true. If he were to buy and renovate all the empty warehouses he’d been through in the last two years, he’d be a freaking billionaire. He slowed as he made his way alongside the building. Two stories at least, gray metal siding. No windows facing the side street.
He looked around the corner. Several men were hanging out in front of a faded yellow door. All looked to be bangers.
He was alone, without transportation. He texted the cross streets to the number on the cab driver’s card. Ready to go. And then he walked around the corner as if he belonged. He kept his head up, his stride loose and easy. One of the guys had gotten up and was already heading his way. The thug actually laughed when he realized what was walking his way. White man with no business on this block. He shook his head as Jim approached. Still smiling.
“Good evenin’,” Jim said as the kid came alongside. Didn’t keep eye contact, didn’t avoid it.
“Might be.” The kid kept walking. The kid’s gait slowed, probably turned to check out the interloper. Jim didn’t look back.
The other two thugs had already stopped whatever they had been up to by the time Jim reached them. One was sitting on a tattered folding chair. The other was on an overturned bucket. That one stood and faced Jim. He was very thick. And tall. So was Jim. His slap-jack was in his back pocket. Easy out if he needed it, but he prided himself on talking to people to get what he needed.
“Jelissa in there?”
Big boy took a step forward. “What the fuck you want with her?”
“Well, a visit, I suppose.” What else would a guy be looking for her for? Not really good business for a pro to have bodyguards outside turning away potential buyers. Unless she was on a known-customers-only basis these days. Happened.
“She ain’t seeing visitors. Go on outta here before I make you a stat, bitch.” A threat. A stupid one, but the big guy stepped closer to show he was serious.
Jim supposed he should be afraid. The moose had his hand behind his back. But then again, so did Jim. If he carried a gun, Jim would have only a second to act. Reacting would be too late.
If this guy wanted trouble, he was sure hesitating. His body language was all wrong. He was still standing head on. Open to all attacks. The man glanced back at the guy in the chair.
Jim addressed him. “I want to talk to her. That’s all. I’m a PI from Vegas. Just looking for a lost girl she might have known. Not a cop or anything.”
He eyed Jim. Assessing. “No lost girls around here.”
Jim huffed. “Nothing but lost girls around here.” He stepped to his right, around the big boy to address the man with the power. Guys with power never got up until their muscle had failed. “This is ancient history in your world. Seven years ago.”
“I said—”
“Who you want from that long ago, darling?”
They all jerked around. A beautiful woman stood in the yellow door. She was in a bright green wrap with African designs. Her makeup and nails were immaculate. She glowed compared to the dank and dirty of everything surrounding her.
Jim gave her a little bow of the head. “She went by Elizabeth.” He pulled out the picture of Sophie and Dan. The big guy took it and handed it to Jelissa.
She held tight to the door frame. Her wrists looked thin. All of her looked thin, weak, though well-disguised in cosmetics. Not skinny like the girl on the bench. This was gray and hollow thin. Jim recognized cancer when he saw it. Yet she held a lit cigarette. Time must be running out for Jelissa.
“She got out.”
Jelissa nodded. “She did.”
She shooed the man from the folding chair. “You two go down the corner.”
They balked, but she insisted. Her word obviously carried some weight. “Why you looking for her?”
“Her family’s looking for her.”
“That a lie, baby.”
“So you knew her pretty well?”
She took a long toke. “You got one more chance and I call the boys back.”
Hard ball. Sometimes the truth can be an ally. It was hard to tell when. But this time the choice was easy.
“You’re right. It was a lie.” He folded his hands in front of his jeans button. He would deliver the information as if it could be bad news for Jelissa. “She’s wanted for killing about fourteen people. Some from this neighborhood back then. Now she’s stalking a boy from her youth. We’re trying to stop her from killing him.”
“So you are a cop?”
“Nope. Just a guy who fucked up and needs to set something straight.”
She eyed him carefully. “That is the truth. Probably in more ways than one.”
He wasn’t sure if he reeked of a fuck-up or if she had immaculate people skills. Perhaps both.
“He’s not a pusher?” she asked.
“The guy she’s after? No. Simple cowboy. She killed his sister too.”
Jelissa looked down. Flicked her ashes to the dirty concrete at her feet. “I learned a great lesson from Eliza.” She took out another cigarette and lit it, offered Jim one. He took it. She lit his too.
“Thanks.”
She nodded. Cool. Collected, she was. “She told me how to take back what belonged to me.”
Jim almost laughed. “Didn’t go telling you to kill your pimps, did she?”
She gave a quick raise of the eyebrows but didn’t answer. “Things have changed in this neighborhood over the years. I can now keep the really bad element out. The girls get a bigger take. It’s safer. As safe as this life can be on a girl.” She looked back at Jim. “Eliza told us how to do that.”
Dang, crazy bitch did have a soft spot for the downtrodden. “And it looks like you’ve done a hell of a good job. Whatever she said to you was good advice. But she’s off the chart now. Killing anyone in her way. Cut the throat of a guy in his backyard.” He let that sink in. “Another couple young girls who were just out for a party. Now she wants this guy because he was nice to her when she was a kid.”
“That don’t sound like her.”
“She’s changed. Very delusional. She’s switched identities several times.” He turned to face her. “Jelissa, I’m not a cop. I’m just trying to get her trail. None of the work you’ve done here”—he made a circle with this finger to indicate the neighborhood—“is in jeopardy.”
“You gonna kill her?”
“No.” If I get the chance, hell yes.
“Killing people for no good reason ain’t right. I done a lot of talking to kids and parents in this area to make that point. We are getting better.” She stood and gingerly paced a few steps back toward the door. “But I don’t know where she at. Haven’t seen her in years.”
“You made this place safer.” Even if it was by killing off the worst of the bad element. But that wasn’t his business. “Tell me this. Takes money to make these kinds of changes. ”
She looked away. Had she gone to the extremes Sophie had? She was trying to clean up her neighborhood, save some young girls, and he respected that. Small-time vigilante like Jelissa was okay with his moral code. Too bad Sophie had not taken the same road.
