Brooklyn Blood

by M. Z. Kelly

  When she was finished, Amy presented a hand mirror, allowing me to check the results. “What do you think?”

  Maybe it was the wine working in my system, or the fact that I never really did much with my hair, but the results struck a positive chord with me. “I look...” I blinked a couple of times. “I don’t even look the same.”

  Amy nodded. “That’s ‘cause you went from not to hot, Mads.”

  Max gave me her thoughts. “If I was you, I’d have Amy do my hair every day.”

  A half hour later, I’d done my makeup and slipped into my slutty black dress, feeling half-naked.

  I came out of my bedroom, my doubts resurfacing as I said, “I don’t know about this.”

  “It’s perfect,” Amy said, coming over and walking around me, studying her work. “If I was a guy, my brain would be sloshing around in testosterone right now.”

  I looked at Max, raising my brows.

  “You got game,” she said, in a tone that reminded me of a football coach. “I got me a feeling Sam’s gonna step on his pecker.”

  ***

  I took an Uber to Bennington’s Steakhouse because the wine was still working in my system and I almost fell over after I put on my heels. I was still feeling overexposed in my new dress as I entered the restaurant, even though I’d worn a coat because of the freezing weather. My unease returned when Sam greeted me in the lobby and helped me with my coat.

  “You look...amazing,” he said, when my coat was off.

  I was grateful that he hadn’t said slutty. I then had a thought that amazing might be a code word for half-naked, as I thanked him. I glanced around the candlelit booths and tried to take the attention off myself by saying, “This looks lovely.”

  “I’ve never been here before, but it came highly recommended.”

  The maître d’ led us to an area near the back of the establishment, where we took seats and ordered drinks. We made small talk about our surroundings as we settled in.

  My date, if you want to call him that, was in his thirties, with short sandy hair and blue eyes. Sam was handsome and confident, making me again wonder whether he was really interested in me or had other things on his mind as he asked me about my day.

  “It was pretty uneventful if you leave out the parts about a family wanting to bury their beloved in their back yard, and a man named Lola and his niece digging graves near my apartment.”

  Sam’s blue eyes held on me as he smiled. “Really?”

  “Really. All in a day’s work when you live in a cemetery.” I took a moment to tell him about the funeral service, then Lola and Katerina. “I think I mentioned Thorndike to you before. He says his first name is popular in the old country, wherever that is. Amy and I get the feeling he’s got a lot of secrets, including the niece, who apparently has some immigration issues. Luckily for her, or maybe me, that’s not my area of concern.”

  Our drinks were served as we chatted about Amy and Max for a few minutes. Sam had previously been to Funk’s Fields, so he knew the layout of the place, and he’d met my roommates. He then told me about being assigned a new partner, after his previous partner had submitted his retirement papers due to medical issues.

  “Her name is Joanna Kemp, a newer agent who’s just getting her feet wet in the job.”

  It crossed my mind that Sam might have more than a professional interest in her as I said, “I was under the impression the cold case unit was where they sent agents who...”

  When I hesitated, searching for the right words to explain my thoughts, he interrupted. “Agents who are ready to retire? Or have disciplinary issues?”

  I smiled and picked up my glass of cabernet. “I didn’t mean that, exactly.”

  “Cold case isn’t as cold or as boring as some people might think. We do actively work cases. That’s part of the reason I wanted to meet tonight.”

  I was about to ask him what he meant when the waiter returned to take our orders. After he left, Sam changed the subject, asking me about Remy Powell.

  “They have a suspect in custody, a homeless man who was camping in the cemetery and was in possession of Remy’s purse. I think they got it wrong.”

  “You think he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  “As you know, the murder scene was elaborately staged. What happened was personal to the killer. None of it fits with the suspect they have in custody.” I filled him in on Remy’s background as a prostitute, what we knew about her mother, and what Dick Vernon had told us about a cult possibly operating in the area. “It might be that she hooked up with the wrong guy, and he used her to play out his crazy fantasies. Or there really could be some kind of cult involved.”

  “It sounds like you’ve taken a personal interest in the case.”

  Sam knew about me working a prior case without the authorization of the department. I tried to minimize his concerns by saying, “It happened in my back yard, so I’m...I guess it’s personal for me because of that.”

  “I understand.” He sipped his wine and paused before going on. “Speaking of things that are personal, I wanted to meet tonight because I have something to tell you about your mother.”

  I was filled with a combination of anticipation and dread as I said, “What is it?”

  Sam reached over and touched my hand. “I think your mother might still be alive.”

  SEVENTEEN

  A million thoughts crashed through my mind, everything from elation to anger. Was there really a chance I might get to see my mother again? But, if my mom was alive, why hadn’t she contacted me all these years? How could she have left me with my aunt and uncle to raise, and never attempted to see me?

  My feelings of abandonment overwhelmed me as my voice broke. “Tell me what you know.”

  “I went through your mother’s file again last week. Remember, when we last talked, I told you I thought she had been involved with a man named Mark Banuelos?”

  “Yes. I think you said he died of a drug overdose in 2001.”

  He nodded. “As you know, I’ve been able to establish that Banuelos had ties to one of the Raleigh victims, a girl named Jackie Ralston.”

  Sam’s reference was to one of several girls who had been raped and murdered in Raleigh, North Carolina. All the victims had been in drug treatment at one time, and their homicides had been tied to the killer known as the Phantom. When my mother had gone missing from a drug program in New York called New Beginnings, after she’d left me with my aunt and uncle, the original investigators had believed the Phantom might have come north and begun a killing spree in the New York area. Another young woman who was in the drug program with my mother, Dorothy King, had also gone missing, but the cases were never solved.

  “Go on,” I said, desperately wanting to know what else he’d learned.

  “Banuelos had a drug supplier named William Jeffers. He not only supplied Banuelos, but he was a middle man, a supplier running drugs up and down the east coast. I talked to someone who worked Narcotics back when Banuelos overdosed, and he thinks his death wasn’t an overdose.”

  “He crossed Jeffers?”

  Sam nodded. “He ripped off a large amount of heroin from him and ended up dead a week later.”

  “How does my mother fit in to all this?”

  “I think Banuelos was supplying your mother with drugs. When he crossed Jeffers, and paid the price, the narcotics officers said Jeffers also went after Banuelos’ family and anyone else connected to him.”

  “Including my mother.”

  “I think that’s why she left you with your aunt and uncle to raise.”

  My throat closed up, the realization about what happened suddenly hitting me. “She was trying to save my life.”

  “Probably.”

  I tried to sort through my emotions as our food arrived. I’d lost my appetite by the time the server had left.

  When we were alone again, I said, “Where...my mother...where did she go?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly, but I ran
her birthdate and social through several databases. I got a hit on a woman named Donna Wallace. A couple years ago she was treated at an upstate hospital. There were some charges for the medical procedures that were never paid and went to collections. The birthdate and SSN were a match to your mother.”

  I realized there were tears on my cheeks. Sam moved closer, putting an arm around me in a gesture of comfort. “I’m sorry. I know this is difficult to hear.” He paused as I tried to control my emotions, then went on. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  I drew in a heavy breath. “Go on.”

  “This guy, William Jeffers. We’ve tied him to being in the Raleigh area when the Phantom’s victims went missing. He may have also had some contact with Dorothy King. It’s just speculation, but it’s possible that Mark Banuelos was helping William Jeffers find his victims, in exchange for drugs, before he overdosed or was killed. Dorothy King might have been one of those victims.”

  The realization that my mother was involved with a drug user and someone who was helping a serial killer choose his victims roiled my stomach. Had my mother been so addicted to drugs that her judgment had been affected? I then remembered that Banuelos had a prior conviction for domestic violence, and the thought crossed my mind that my mother might have been abused by him.

  “Jeffers,” I said, trying to stay in control. “Is he still alive?” I brushed a stream of tears from my eyes.

  “We’re not sure. As far as we know, he’s no longer active in the drug trade, but he may have gone underground. No one has seen or heard from him in almost a decade.”

  I tried to process everything, including the fact that my mother might still be alive and living a few hundred miles away from me in the same state. “You said that Donna Wallace was treated in an upstate hospital. Where exactly was that?”

  “Catskill Medical Center, near the town of Monticello. She had a series of outpatient treatments back in 2014. I checked the address on the billings and medical records. She moved from her last known address and left no forwarding address.”

  “You said she was in the hospital. Do you know what she was being treated for?”

  Sam’s arm drew tighter around my shoulder and his voice softened. “I’m sorry, Madison, but there’s no easy way to say this. According to the medical records, the woman who might be your mother had cancer.”

  EIGHTEEN

  “I’m sorry about having to tell you about your mom,” Sam said, as we left the restaurant about an hour later. I’d lost my appetite and had barely touched my food. “Maybe doing it over dinner wasn’t the best idea.”

  I met his blue eyes. “No, it was...I’m...I’m glad you told me.” I looked away. “At least I know now that she might be alive.”

  We stopped on the sidewalk while I waited for my driver. The night had turned even colder, and I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. I looked down the street, feeling a little lost and empty.

  “We could go...look for her. I mean together.”

  I turned back to him. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  He went on. “If you want, we could take a long weekend and go by her last known address, maybe talk to her former neighbors.”

  I was feeling conflicted. I barely knew Sam, and the thought of going away with him didn’t feel right.

  “Maybe...” I took a breath. “I should probably think about it. What you told me...it’s been a shock.”

  “I understand.”

  A car pulled to the curb, the Uber driver signaling to me. “Guess I’d better go.”

  Sam came closer, reached down, and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll call...” His eyes held on mine as we parted. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Call me in a day or so. We can talk then.”

  When I got home, Amy and Max were waiting up for me. They rushed over, seeing my forlorn expression.

  “The bastard dumped you, didn’t he?” Amy said.

  “She got kicked to the curb,” Max agreed.

  I slumped down on the sofa. “I think I need a drink.”

  “Lordy,” Max said to Amy. “Better make it drinks all ‘round. I gotta hear what happened.”

  Amy took a couple minutes to gather our refreshments, then came over with wine and glasses. “Okay, let’s hear it, and don’t leave anything out.”

  “We want all the dirt,” Max agreed.

  I took a glass of wine from her and sighed. “I think my mother’s alive.”

  Amy squealed. “What? This is a cause for celebration!”

  “Maybe not.” I spent the next half hour going over everything Sam had told me, all of it coming out in bursts of emotion, as I lost control several times and broke down.

  After hearing everything, Max said, “If your mother is still alive and she never made any attempt to see you, it’s...”

  “Unforgiveable,” Amy said, finishing her sentence. “And if that’s the case, she needs to hear it from you.”

  “There’s something else,” I said. “Sam said he wants to go to Monticello with me over the weekend and help me look for her.”

  Amy and Max looked at one another like I’d just told them I’d won the lottery.

  “Are you kidding me?” Amy said, looking back at me.

  I shook my head. “I told him I wasn’t sure about going.”

  “You what?” If a voice could raise the dead, Amy had just called the zombies to crawl out of their graves above us.

  “I think she told him no,” Max told her.

  I felt compelled to defend myself. “I didn’t say no. I just said I was in shock, hearing about my mother, and would let him know.”

  Amy took my hands and locked eyes with me. “Listen to me. I know you’ve been on the shelf for a while, but Sam wants to take things to the next level. If you care about him, you’ve got to make a decision.”

  “You do care ‘bout him, don’t you?” Max asked me.

  I broke eye contact with Amy and slumped back on the sofa. “Yes...maybe...I don’t know.” I brushed a tear. “I’m just confused and in a state of shock. I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling.”

  “Maybe we should go with her,” Max said to Amy.

  Amy gave Max her best are-you-fuwking-crazy stare that she usually reserved for me. “Yeah, we could all stay in the same room, maybe get a couple of bunk beds.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” I said. “Well, maybe not the bunk beds, but we could all go together. That way, Sam wouldn’t expect...”

  “Sex.” Amy drew out the word in that way she had that made it sound like it had a half-dozen syllables. I flashed back on us in junior high, talking about someday doing the dirty deed.

  “It’s not just that.” My emotions took over again and I felt myself tearing up. “I think I need the moral support from both of you.”

  Amy’s voice softened. “We’re here for you, Mads. You know that. Just let us know what you need. But if I was you, I would take advantage of certain things, if you know what I mean.”

  Max seconded what she said before I told them I was going to bed. After brushing my teeth, wiping off what I realized was way too much makeup, and slipping into my pajamas, I lay in bed, unable to sleep.

  My mother is alive.

  That thought consumed me. I imagined myself knocking on Mom’s door and saying, “Hello, I’m the daughter you abandoned almost twenty years ago.” Scenes of me tearfully confronting her followed, as I demanded to know why she had left me.

  Other thoughts then assailed me. What if my mother was dead from cancer, and I’d never see her again? Then another thought: Maybe William Jeffers had been searching for my mother all these years. If he was the Phantom, the man who had murdered dozens of women, and he knew she was alive, he wouldn’t just walk away and give up on finding her.

  It was sometime after midnight, just before sleep finally found me, that I made a decision. I would learn everything I could about William Jeffers. If the Phantom was still alive, I
would find the serial killer and make him pay for his reign of terror. I was also determined to find the mother I’d barely known. Whether she was dead or alive, I had to finally know the truth about the woman who had abandoned me.

  NINETEEN

  One of the disciples, a woman named Colleen, seemed to appear out of nowhere as Mary opened her eyes. She sat up, seeing that Colleen was carrying a tray of food.

  “You need to eat,” Colleen said, keeping her voice low and setting the tray on the nightstand. “I made you some cobbler. My mother used to make it for me when I was a girl.”

  Mary yawned and tried to focus. “Thank you.” Her eyes held on the young woman. Colleen was around thirty and was married to Michael. He was one of Adam’s closest advisors and he scared Mary. “When...? Do you know how much longer...until...?”

  Colleen reached over and touched her arm. “I’m not sure. Maybe a day or two.” She lowered her eyes. “They’re making arrangements. It will be in the graveyard where...” Her gaze moved off. “...where the other girl was punished.”

  After thinking about the terrible fate awaiting her, Mary told her what the executioner had said. “They’re going to burn me...” She waited until Colleen looked up. “...alive.”

  There was a nod. “I’m sorry.”

  Mary’s eyes grew heavy, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m scared.”

  Colleen squeezed her hand. “If it means anything, I’ll be there praying for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Colleen, you need to get back up here.”

  They turned toward the stairway, hearing Michael’s voice.

  “I’ll be right there,” Colleen said. She turned back to Mary. “I’ll be back and check on you before...”

  “Thank you,” Mary said, as the woman stood to leave.