“Do you know where Hennessey is?” She had to ask the question, even though a full search for the man was under way.
“Nope.”
“There was a woman who lived there with Hennessey.”
Bates rubbed his chin across his shoulder. “I ain’t saying.”
“We don’t need you to. The landlord told us she did.”
“Can I go?”
Madison had to stifle her rising anger. “Did you know that Hennessey had a lady living with him?”
His eyes darted to the table before focusing behind them.
“When did you last see her?” Maybe she could fool him into disclosing something.
“How the hell should I know?”
Madison smiled. “You did know about her.”
“I ain’t sayin’ that.”
“We have all day.” Madison put her hands on the table and rose to leave.
“Shit! Lady, I don’t know.”
She stopped walking and turned around. “Think hard.”
“I dunno. A few weeks ago.”
“This woman who lived with ‘RH.’ Describe her for us.”
“She was a dirty blonde.” He snorted a laugh, and when he realized he was the only one who found amusement in his statement, went serious again. “She was tiny. I like my woman with a better build.” He stopped talking and eyed Madison as if she were candy. “A real woman, ya know.”
If Madison cared what this creep thought of her, she might feel self-conscious about her size. She carried a few extra pounds but was more athletic build, than she was the bikini model. So far, the description, although vague, matched Lacy’s physical description.
“Anything else?”
“She was popular with men friends.”
“She slept around?”
“Not with me. Not sure if she put out with everyone but no one minded trying to git with her if you know what I mean.”
“You tried?”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” Bates extruded his lips and pulled them in.
Madison noted his demeanor. “You were close enough to know her name.”
His eyes took in the room.
“Bates if you know, it’s best you tell us. Are we going to find your prints on the shovel that buried—”
“Lacy. A’ight?” Bates splayed his hands on the table. “That’s all I know. She’s RH’s girl.”
“You don’t know her last name?”
“Can’t say I do.”
MADISON SPOKE TO TERRY ON the other side of the glass. “No further ahead, except we have confirmation she lived there, at least in a roundabout way. And we can’t hold him because of his skin color.” She referred to their superiors’ viewpoints on such matters. They would lock up any who appeared guilty based on a pre-set mold if they had their way.
“The sarge really isn’t that bad.”
“You’re blind then. Every time someone is less advantaged or fits the stereotype, Winston narrows in on them.”
“I think you should give the guy more credit.”
“As soon as he gives me a reason to, how’s that? And since when are you on his side?”
Terry didn’t answer her, but she witnessed insecurity in her partner’s eyes.
-
Chapter 7
TERRY PULLED UP THE INTERNET and did a telephone search for the partial phone number they got from the allergy medication. “Hopefully this brings us something.”
“It should help, that’s for sure. Too bad all we have is her first name to help us out.”
Terry glanced at her and smiled. “You’re always so skeptical. Here it is. Dixie’s Pharmacy on Lexington.”
Lexington was in the north end of the city, a particularly wealthy area.
“You’re certain?”
“That’s what came up with the four digits. Besides, the logo that was left matches up to theirs.” He pointed to the screen.
Madison grabbed her coat. “Let’s go then.”
Sergeant Winston stopped her. “Whatcha got, Knight?”
And the play-by-play begins.
“We’re close to getting a full ID for the girl.”
He studied her eyes as if he suspected she knew more than she was telling them. “Fine, but keep me posted.”
THE PHARMACIST STOOD BEHIND THE counter, both hands braced on it. The way he stood there, it was as if he looked down on them and viewed himself as superior. “Normally, I’d ask for a warrant.”
“We’re asking for your help with a suspicious death,” Madison said.
He shrunk behind the counter. “It has nothing to do with our dispensing of drugs?”
“Not that we’re aware of.”
His face lit up. “Murder?”
What was wrong with society when the thought of someone’s life being taken made their eyes widen with excitement? Madison blamed Hollywood for glamorizing evil and spreading the fever like an epidemic.
“Do you show a client with the first name of Lacy?”
He laughed. “You’re going to need to give me more than that. An address? A prescription number?”
“Here.” She showed him a picture of the package they recovered at the crime scene.
The pharmacist leaned over to look but said nothing. His eyes revealed that he recognized the packet.
Terry stepped closer to the counter. “Please just try the name Lacy in cross reference with this medication.”
“I should get a warrant first.”
“Don’t you understand we don’t have time for this? The longer you take, the farther away her killer could be,” Madison said.
“You people don’t give up.”
“Just try the name—”
He held up a hand to stop her and started typing. “Lacy.”
“Try it without an e.”
“Yes, I got it.”
“You found her?”
He looked up. “I mean I got it, as in I remember the name from—what?—less than twenty seconds ago.” He looked back at the monitor. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got. All right, nothing there.” He typed something else in.
“No Lacy?” Madison asked the pharmacist.
He exhaled loudly. “I’m working on this. Just give me a minute.”
Madison rolled her eyes toward Terry.
“I show a Lacy.” He flattened his hands on the counter and stared at them.
“Last name?”
“I’m not really sure if I should give that out.” He leaned across the counter. “With the economy these days, everyone’s replaceable.”
“The woman’s dead, she won’t care. Her family, on the other hand, is probably looking for her.” Madison had a feeling that wasn’t the case. There was nothing in missing persons that had matched any identifiers on the vic. She kept eye contact with the man. He could be a father, possibly even a grandfather. “What if she was your child?”
“Oh no. Not playing that game.”
“We won’t release the source of how we came to ID her,” Terry said.
The man scanned their eyes and let out a deep breath. “Last name is Rose.”
Madison’s mind went straight to the tattoo on Lacy’s ankle. Her name was there all along.
“What address do you show? Is there a medical plan in place for her?”
“I will require a warrant for that. Now, if that will be all, I have prescriptions to fill.” The pharmacist walked away.
She didn’t expect him to answer the questions, but she studied his brief facial reaction and she would swear Lacy Rose had coverage. In the car, she asked Terry, “Did you see the flicker in his eyes?”
“Pretty clearly.”
“Now we have to answer the question of what Lacy was doing with a guy like Hennessey in a cheap neighborhood when
it seems likely she had a wealthy benefactor in the north end.”
“And what was her relationship with her benefactor?”
Madison picked up her cell and dialed Sergeant Winston.
“Surprised to hear from you. Not used to this.”
She ignored his attitude. “We’ve got a full ID on the vic. Lacy Rose. We’ve pulled the background and are headed over to notify next of kin now.”
“How did you manage to get the ID?”
Madison told him and hung up.
“We promised that guy we wouldn’t disclose who provided the full name,” Terry said.
“Actually, you promised.” She smiled at him and put the car into gear, but with speaking the word promise, two that she had made came to mind. First, the one made to herself to close her cold case, once and for all, and two, the one she had made to Vilma Thorne. But she didn’t have time to deal with either right now.
-
Chapter 8
THE BACKGROUND CHECK ON LACY Rose showed the last known residence was located in the east end, only about a block from where she was found. The property had belonged to Patricia Rose, the deceased’s mother, but she had died three years ago of a drug overdose.
The paternal name Patricia had stated for her daughter’s birth record was Maurice Kendal. His address was in the north end of the city.
Madison stopped at the security gate for the neighborhood of Deer Glen. Bars prevented entry of any unwelcome visitor. It represented the line between the haves and have-nots.
“Please state who you’re here to see.” A man’s voice came through the speaker beside the driver’s-side window.
Madison held up her badge to the guardhouse where the small man hid behind the power of the uniform.
“Mr. Maurice Kendal, number six thirteen Fawn Avenue.”
“Do you have an appointment with Mr. Kendal?”
“Police business. I can drive through the gate if you want.”
“No need.”
She heard the motor working and the arm lifted.
“You would have driven through it, wouldn’t you?” Terry was laughing.
“Guess we’ll never know now.” She smiled.
A WOMAN IN A MAID’S uniform stood behind the door. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Kendal is not in.” Her one hand steadied on the open door.
Madison heard talking in the background. Someone was there and by the tone, it wasn’t more hired help. The man’s voice held authority.
“We have bad news for Mr. Kendal.” Madison flashed her badge.
The woman’s posture slipped, and her Italian accent riddled into her speech. “I get him for you.”
A large man, oddly resembling Daddy Warbucks of Annie, stood in front of them dressed in a Hawaiian shirt paired with khakis.
“What the hell is this?” His eyes surveyed both of them, one at a time, from their feet to their eyes. “I didn’t receive a call from the gate notifying me of visitors.” He turned and briskly clapped his hands. The maid picked up a phone on a nearby table and dialed a number. He twisted his wrist and looked at his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. What is it?”
A meeting in that get-up? Maybe his priorities would change when he heard what they had to say.
“Maurice Kendal?”
“Yes.” The man nodded impatiently.
“This will only take a few minutes.” Madison stepped through the door.
“By all means then, come in.”
Luggage sat on the floor and would explain his tropical get up. Madison felt the “meeting” was more likely a vacation than a business affair.
“Don’t have much time.”
“Is there somewhere we could sit down?”
“Bad news is bad news, standing or sitting.” He put his hands in his pockets.
Another man approached but kept back at a distance. His face reflected a warmness Kendal was sorely lacking.
“Your daughter, Lacy Rose, was found this morning and we believe she may have been murdered.”
“I don’t have a daughter. What is this?” Kendal looked around and Madison noticed the expression on the other man’s face.
Madison continued. “We’re sorry for your loss, and if there is any family we can call or anything we can do—”
“You can get out for one.” He pointed a thick finger to the front door.
“You were listed as her father on the birth record.”
“Doesn’t mean anything. If, and I mean if, I had any connection with this girl, I would have been nothing more than a donor.” He turned to the other man. “This is why you don’t throw money away on the ten-dollar whores. They somehow sniff money and come back around. Stick to a reputable escort agency.” Back to Madison. “Some girl came around a while ago. She claimed to be my daughter.”
The man, who had been in the background, came closer. His breath was somewhat labored as if he debated whether to talk.
“You know her?” Madison asked him.
“I do.” His voice cracked slightly. “I did.”
Maybe it wasn’t Daddy Warbucks supporting her, but rather, this man.
“And what’s your relationship to Lacy?” Madison noticed Kendal’s clenched jaw and the anger in his eyes.
“I’m not related.” He glanced nervously at the homeowner. “And Mr. Kendal and I are business partners.”
Madison addressed Kendal. “You mentioned Lacy came around. How long ago was that?”
“A few weeks ago.” He turned to the other man, who nodded with the assessment. “She came begging for money and gave me all this talk about starting out in a new life. She rambled on about being found innocent.” He nodded toward the other man. “Peter was here.”
Madison noted the phrase “being found innocent.” There was evidence that Lacy had shot drugs in her past. They would have to wait for toxicology results to see if she had stopped the habit more recently. And if she had stopped taking drugs to turn her life around, what had served as her motivation?
“Before that she never talked to you? She just showed up to ask for money and told you how she planned to change her life around?”
Kendal went to cross his arms but settled his hands on his hips. “Essentially.”
“That wasn’t all there was to it?”
Peter eyed his business partner. “She wanted him to be her father.”
Kendal’s jaw tightened at Peter’s statement, but Madison sensed Peter experienced more grief over Lacy’s death than the father of record. Madison addressed Kendal. “But you told her to get lost?”
“When you’ve got money as I do, you get users.”
“Users?”
“You know, the people who want to suck the life out of you, more importantly, drain your finances. They claim they want something more, something special.” He dittoed his fingers when he said the word special.
Daddy Warbucks, or, as he was legally known, Maurice Kendal, wasn’t a trusting person by any means. A puppy could likely approach him to be pet and he’d assume it wished to piss on his shoes.
Madison made special note of the other man’s reaction. His eyes fell to the floor, if only for an instant. “Did you provide Lacy medical coverage?” she asked Kendal.
“You’re not listening to me. I told her to get lost.”
“All right.” Madison and Terry backed away. “That will be all then. Sorry for your loss.” The latter was added in the hope it would impress guilt upon a man Madison feared didn’t have the ability to feel it.
-
Chapter 9
THEY SAT IN THE CAR outside of Kendal’s house.
Madison grabbed a Hershey’s bar from her jacket and took a large bite. “I think we should get on a warrant to release the information from Lacy’s medical records, but I also believe this Peter guy has the answers we’re looking for.
Did you see his reaction to Lacy’s death?”
Terry glanced down at her bar and then back to her full mouth. “I’ve told you how much I hate it when you do that.”
“Lacy came around a few weeks back.” She swallowed, took another bite. “A mother with a record, who dies, a father who disowns her, and a boyfriend who beats her. This girl had crappy luck. Drugs were probably her only escape. What made her change? Did she truly change?”
“I’d believe she killed herself if it wasn’t for finding her in a hole. Someone else was around, and until we get an answer as to time line—”
“I know. It makes me wonder if she killed herself of her own volition. It seems she had a newfound hope in her life. We’ll have to figure out what that was too.” She gestured with her chocolate bar to the two vehicles in Kendal’s driveway—a Jaguar and a BMW. Madison’s eyes rested on the former. “I’d say Daddy Warbucks—”
“You thought he looked like that too?”
Madison laughed and nodded. She typed the plate of the BMW into the DMV database. “We only have Peter’s first name, but his plate is going to give us the rest.”
“Which car?”
She cast him a glance. “The Jag is more show and fun. Did you see Kendal’s shirt?” She took another bite of her bar and tapped on the screen. “Peter Hargrove. Age fifty-eight. The file says he’s married. The residence is located at twenty-one eighty Barber Avenue.”
“That puts us at the same end of the city.”
“Yep, Peter’s got money too. Guess it makes sense with them being partners, and maybe when he saw Lacy, he thought he’d take advantage of a broken girl.”
Terry lowered his chin and looked upward at her. “You don’t know that.”
“I don’t yet.” She felt pretty confident in her assessment. What other purpose would a man have with a younger woman to whom he wasn’t related? “Also, Kendal told Peter to stick with the escort agency so he’s probably not all that innocent.”
THEIR FIRST THOUGHT WAS TO wait on Hargrove back at his house, but if he was involved, what would stop him from making a run for it after they left. Instead, after driving around the block to make the men think they had left the area, they had gone down a side street that afforded a clear view of Kendal’s house. They would wait for Peter Hargrove to leave and follow him. The dusk of evening helped their cover.
Found Innocent Page 3
