The Shark (Forgotten Files Book 1)

by Mary Burton

Hiding was not an option unless she wanted to look like a wuss. She blew out a slow breath, set her cup down. No sense skirting this past mistake.

  “Clay Bowman,” she said.

  His dark gaze rose. “Riley Tatum.”

  She was actually surprised he remembered her. He’d blasted into her world, made her want too much, and pushed her out of his life.

  “So what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  “A case.” He allowed his gaze to linger. “You look good. Life must be treating you well.”

  “Can’t complain.” His voice struck a chord as familiar words echoed. Do you have this? Was he the guy who’d helped her on the side of the mountain?

  “Glad to hear it. I always pegged you for greatness.” Bowman’s presence scraped her nerves and invaded her space as she faced him.

  “Did you just arrive in the city?”

  He studied her a beat. “Why do you ask?”

  The dark paint was gone, but she recognized the wide set of his jaw and angled cheekbones. “I guess I thought we might have crossed paths in the last couple of days.”

  “I have that kind of face.”

  “You ever do any hiking?”

  “Sometimes.”

  He answered her questions but gave her nothing extra. He was the guy in the woods. She was sure of it. But he wasn’t willing to confirm and she was in no mood to play games.

  Sitting around and playing it cool was not her specialty, and she wasn’t interested in chatting with a guy she once thought she might have been able to love. Shit. How could she have not recognized him on the mountain?

  “It’s been a pleasure, Bowman. Glad to see you’re doing well.”

  “You too, Riley.”

  Waving to Seth, she crossed the coffee shop. “Thanks, Seth.”

  As she moved, she sensed Clay watching her. Tracking her. Hell, he could be just as surprised to see her here. She kept moving.

  Her SUV was already running, AC blasting so Cooper remained cool. When she slid behind the wheel, she shot a quick glance in Cooper’s direction. “The universe hates me today.”

  Cooper looked up, then relaxed back.

  Seeking distraction, she grabbed her phone from her pocket. A missed message. Realizing she hadn’t turned her ringer back on, she played the message. It was from Bonnie Gilbert, who simply said, “If you want to know more about Vicky, call her friend Rebecca Wayne. Rebecca knew more about my daughter than I did.” After rattling off Rebecca’s number, she rang off.

  Riley dialed Rebecca’s phone.

  On the third ring she heard, “Hello?”

  “Is this Rebecca Wayne?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Trooper Riley Tatum with the Virginia State Police. I understand you were a friend of Vicky Gilbert.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “I’d like for us to meet. I want to talk to you about her.”

  “I’m in school right now. And how do I know you’re a cop?”

  “We can meet in public. I’ll show you my badge.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I shouldn’t be on the phone, but I’m in the girls’ locker room.”

  “When can you talk?”

  “School lets out at three and I have tennis practice right after. I can meet you at the courts.”

  “Great.”

  Rebecca told her the school’s address.

  “I’ll find it.”

  Bowman sat in Seth’s coffee shop watching Riley Tatum through the window as she spoke on her phone. Garrett Andrews had tracked her cell to this location, and though he’d seen her on the mountain and at her home, he wanted to see her up close. She looked better than he remembered.

  She noticed him the instant he’d entered the café—good cops knew who was around. Identifying him had brought a wicked frown to her face, and when he spoke, she knew he’d trailed her on the mountain. She’d called him out without giving him away. Savvy. Smart. But that was Riley. Never anyone’s fool.

  Tall and lean, she carried herself with the straight-backed posture of someone with her sights set on the chief’s office one day. Her clothes were nice and crisp, with an edge. One glance suggested she was a gym rat, but she would have to be in good shape to maintain the tracking pace she’d set the other day.

  She’d not given any physical indication that his presence bothered her as she rose and left, but he’d sensed her irritation. He shouldn’t care one way or the other if seeing him again affected her, but he did.

  On his phone, he opened the e-mails from his office that profiled Riley Tatum. At thirty, she’d racked up several citations and a valor award for the rescue two years ago. There’d been talk of her moving to the investigative side, but she’d opted out to stay with her dog. Loyal. As he remembered.

  Her arrest of Jax Carter had earned her media attention, which she’d shunned when the reporters surrounded her after the arrest. She did not like the limelight. He couldn’t fault her. She was a good cop.

  A review of the Shark’s victim profiles proved she easily fit the killer’s type. Today with her long dark hair draping her shoulders, the similarities were striking. Shave off twelve years and she was a perfect fit.

  And now she was connected to the Gilbert case. The killer had been inactive for a dozen years and the previous killings had all happened in New Orleans, her hometown. He knew she’d crossed paths with this killer and had somehow gotten away.

  When he thought back to his visit with Charles this morning, he couldn’t picture Riley living the socialite life. Why had Charles called her difficult?

  Bowman rose.

  Out the door, he strode to his black SUV and slid behind the wheel. He switched on the engine and, certain now that no one could hear, dialed Shield.

  He picked up on the second ring. “You made contact?”

  “I did.”

  “What do you think?”

  That was a loaded question. “We exchanged a couple of basic pleasantries.”

  “Did she recognize you from the mountain?”

  “She did.”

  “She’s not told anyone about your assist there?”

  “I don’t think so. I asked for her discretion at the time.”

  A humorless chuckle leaked over the line. “It’s to her advantage not to talk. She gets all the credit.”

  “True.” But she wasn’t the type to grab attention. “Her stepfather strikes me as the kind of guy who would willingly gamble her life. He’s got a huge portrait of his first wife. She was Riley’s mother and they look exactly alike.”

  There was a long pause. “I wonder if Riley knows how close she came to dying twelve years ago?”

  “Hard to tell,” Bowman said.

  “Whatever you need to get this case solved, consider it done. He’s close and we have a real chance of catching the son of a bitch.”

  “Roger that. She’s now my number-one priority.”

  Riley placed a call to Sharp and repeated the conversation she’d had with Rebecca Wayne. He agreed to join her so they could conduct the interview together.

  It was minutes before three when Riley and Sharp arrived at the school. Both got out and leaned against the car, enjoying a moment of fresh air and sunshine.

  “I ran a background check on Darla Johnson,” Sharp said.

  Riley leaned forward, her interest keen. “Carter’s girlfriend?”

  Sunglasses glinted as he tipped his face toward the sun. “She’s twenty-three years old and has a list of priors that rivals her boyfriend’s. Assault, drug trafficking, and drunk driving make her a perfect fit for Carter. Johnson is a high school dropout and has no primary job. A real piece of work.”

  “Any idea where she might be now?” Riley asked.

  “I’ve issued a BOLO, but no luck finding her yet.”

  “Flushing out Darla is not going to be easy.”

  “I agree.”

  “Unless we have the right bait.”

  He tipped his face toward her, his expression unre
adable. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Her kind often trolls on social media. I could dig out a picture of me when I was nineteen and set up a page and start posting comments about how hard my life is and how no one understands me.” She had a picture taken of her at nineteen when her hair flowed around her shoulders. She was smiling in the photo, but her eyes reflected a darkness that showed life had not been a piece of cake. It was perfect.

  Sharp remained silent as if mulling the idea.

  “The page is only intended to find her. And I’ll even use my real name so no lawyer can ever accuse me of using a false identity.”

  “What name are you using?”

  “Elizabeth Riley Tatum. My mother called me Beth.”

  “Beth Tatum?”

  Sensing his interest, she said, “I’ll send friend requests to Vicky’s high school pals. If a couple accept, I’ll look more legit.”

  He considered her idea. “Set up a page. But if you get any kind of bite, I want to know about it.”

  “Done.”

  The afternoon bell rang and as the hundreds of kids poured out of the school, she texted Rebecca. The girl responded back within seconds, and they agreed to meet at the bleachers near the tennis courts.

  Riley and Sharp stood in the afternoon sun, soaking up the warmth and the breeze. They watched as the kids assembled by the tennis courts, and when one girl hung back from the crowd, Riley nodded. “I think that’s her.”

  “Okay.”

  The girl was a tall, leggy blonde wearing a tennis skirt. Her hands trembled as she pretended to adjust the strings on her racket. “Can I make initial contact?”

  “Sure.”

  Both pulled their badges and walked toward the girl with Riley taking the lead. “Rebecca Wayne?”

  Rebecca responded to a text on her phone and looked up. “Trooper Tatum?”

  “That’s right. And this is Agent Sharp. He’s also with Virginia State Police.” Both held up their badges.

  The girl barely glanced at the shields and seemed more worried about making it to practice. “I don’t have a whole lot of time. Practice starts in fifteen minutes and the coach gets all bent when I’m late.” Rebecca fished a power bar out of the side pocket. “My mom texted me the news about Vicky. Mom is Mrs. Gilbert’s friend. I still can’t believe she’s gone. I saw her about a month ago.”

  “Any reason why you two haven’t seen each other recently?”

  “Yeah. Her new boyfriend. Mr. Super Creep.”

  “His name?” Riley pulled out her notebook and pen.

  “Jax Carter.”

  “How’d they meet?”

  “Through his weird sister.”

  “Sister?” Riley asked.

  “Yeah. Darla. She said she was his sister.”

  It was easier to lure prey as a brother and sister act. “Okay.”

  “They met us at the mall one day. Vicky and I kind of ditched school a couple of months ago and went shopping.”

  “You skip school a lot?” Sharp said.

  “A few times.” She raised the bar to her mouth and hesitated. “You aren’t going to tell my parents, are you?”

  “Not about skipping school,” Riley offered.

  She bit into the bar. “Good. That wouldn’t go over so well.”

  “Tell me about Darla and Jax,” Riley asked.

  “They were hanging out in the food court. She’s pretty. He’s cute and can be nice. And when they came up to us, it was kind of fun. He started flirting, and we were both thrilled. But I could tell Vicky was into it a lot more than me. She ended up giving him her cell phone number, and within a day, he was calling and texting her all the time. Total mind control.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She and I could be hanging out and then he’d text and boom, she was gone. When he snapped his fingers, she jumped like a puppy dog.”

  “He was good to her?”

  “At first. Gave her all kinds of presents. Bracelets, earrings, and a pair of very cool high heels. She was always gushing when she talked about him.”

  “But you said you didn’t like him.”

  Rebecca swiped a loose strand of hair from her eyes. “She used to play tennis with me. The last time we played was a couple of months ago. She had a wicked bruise on her thigh and when I asked her about it, she blew it off. Said she bumped into the corner of a table. And then in the locker room I saw a bruise on her back. I pressed and she became all defensive and angry. She quit the tennis team the next day.”

  “You think Carter was hurting her?” Sharp asked.

  “Yeah. I told her to tell her parents. Her parents are a pain, but they’re okay. They were always trying to help Vicky stay on the path. But she wouldn’t tell them.”

  “What about her mental health?”

  “She swung between highs and lows.”

  “So what was the appeal of Jax Carter?”

  “She always liked playing with fire. Which explains why she thought Jax was all that.”

  “Did you say anything to her parents about Jax?” Sharp asked.

  Rebecca glanced at him, nervous. “I told my mom, who said she’d talk to Mrs. Gilbert. I don’t know if she ever did.”

  “When Vicky left home last month, where did she go?”

  “She spent a night with me, but my mom started asking questions. Vicky said she was going back home, but I knew that was a lie. She went to live with Jax.”

  “Where?”

  “He has some trailer or motor home. Kinda creepy. She said it felt like home. She’d been talking about running away with him. He kept telling her he loved her and she believed him.”

  “Have any idea where I can find Darla?”

  She folded over the wrapper of her power bar and tucked it back in her bag. “Did you check the mall? I saw her there the other day.”

  “When you skipped again?”

  “Again, you aren’t telling my parents, are you?”

  “You do it again and I will,” Sharp said.

  Her face paled even as she squared her shoulders and tried to look tough. “How will you know?”

  Riley smiled, but knew it conveyed no warmth. “You really want to test him on this?”

  The girl looked away. “No.”

  “Smart. Do you know where they park the motor home?”

  “I know they move around a lot, but where, I don’t know. Where’s Jax?”

  “He’s in the hospital. He’s under arrest for assault.”

  “Shit. Did he kill Vicky?”

  “No. But he beat up another girl so badly she’s in the hospital.”

  “Did Darla kill Vicky?”

  “I don’t know who killed Vicky.”

  A breeze blew the hair back from Rebecca’s face, accentuating a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She looked too damn young.

  “Ever see another guy hanging out with Jax?” Sharp asked.

  “There was a guy once. Dark hair and tanned skin. He sat next to Vicky in the backseat. Jax said he was a friend.”

  Guys like Jax lured girls like Vicky into prostitution slowly at first. They’d ask them to be nice to a friend. Being nice usually translated into sex. After the first friend, there’d be more until finally sex with strangers was a job. “Was there anyone else she hung out with?” Riley softened her voice, knowing Sharp made the girl nervous.

  “After Jax, no. He was it for her.”

  “When’s the last time you had contact with Vicky?”

  “She texted me on Friday. Said she’d see me soon.”

  “Did she say where she was going?” Riley asked.

  “A big party.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. She didn’t say anything else.”

  Riley handed a card to Rebecca. “If you think of anything else, will you call me?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She flicked the edge of the card with her finger. “What was Jax doing with Vicky all this time?”

  “He was pimping her
out,” Sharp said.

  “Like a hooker?”

  “Exactly like that,” he said.

  “Damn.”

  “Don’t skip school,” Sharp cautioned. “The monsters love the girls that color outside the lines.”

  Rebecca looked at Riley. “He’s intense.”

  “He’s also right,” she said.

  Riley and Sharp left a shocked Rebecca by the tennis courts and strode back to the car.

  “Should we go to the mall?” Sharp asked.

  “It’s after school so the mall will be full of kids. I’d bet money Darla won’t be there. Her kind comes in the middle of the day to troll for the girls who’ve skipped school. Those girls, more often than not, have some kind of issue and are easy prey.”

  “So we have a BOLO and social media.”

  “It’s a start.”

  People stuck to what they knew and criminals were no different. The motor home had been seen at the truck stop shortly before Carter assaulted Jo-Jo. Maybe Darla would double back, and if not, maybe someone knew something about her.

  “If you get any leads, Tatum, call me.”

  “Sure. What about ViCAP?”

  “I sent in a report.”

  “Good. Thanks.”

  After Riley and Sharp left Rebecca, she dropped him off at the office and drove to the busy truck stop north of the city. She settled back in her seat and watched as a couple of girls milled around the front door of the truck stop’s diner. Both wore short skirts and plunging tops. Standing next to them was a tall guy wearing a sleeveless T-shirt. His arms were covered in thick bands of tattoos, and his dark hair was tied back in a slick ponytail. Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he drew in a lungful of smoke and blew it out.

  The trio wasn’t breaking any laws, but they had the look of street workers. Out of her SUV, she cut across the lot to them. She’d promised Sharp she’d only call if she had something.

  The man hesitated and took a step back from the girls. A gap-toothed grin spread across his face. He held up his hands. “Po-Po, what’re you doing here? We ain’t doing nothing wrong.”

  She glanced at the girls, who moved closer to him. “You have identification?”

  “Why you want to know our names?” he countered.

  “You can show me your ID now, or I can call for a patrol car.”

  “We ain’t done nothing wrong,” he said.