Evil Without a Face (Sweet Justice)

by Jordan Dane

  In the fanny pack around her waist she carried the essentials she’d need for the trip. She’d been told to leave any credit cards and her cell phone behind, making it impossible for her mother or the law to trace her once she got where she was going.

  She had followed her instructions to the letter, severing all links to the life she’d left behind.

  This should have felt liberating, but it only reminded her of the deceitful way she skulked out of the house in the middle of the night. She left her mom a cryptic note, saying only that she had gone and would contact her when she could. Anything more would have been trouble.

  But a strange mix of dread and relief came when headlights pierced the gray murkiness, flickering between the tall stand of evergreens. A car eased toward the park. At that distance and angle, Nikki couldn’t make out the color or make. She stood and craned her neck for a better look. About the time she poked her head up, a young man emerged from the trees to her right. He barged down the trail without a care in the world.

  “Oh shit,” she gasped, nearly leaping out of her skin. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t know you had this section of the park staked as private property.” He grinned. “Just here to drain the lizard. You okay?”

  Between the river noise and the distraction of the car, she hadn’t heard him coming down the path. The guy was tall and lean, with dark hair. He had a nice smile and kind, soulful eyes. She gauged him for late teens or early twenties. With her heart still racing, her judgment meter was way out of whack. Normally, he would have been her type, but she had more on her mind.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Nikki sneaked a peek past him toward the headlights. She had to ditch him fast or all bets were off. “I had to use the restroom, that’s all.”

  The kid chuckled. “Yeah, right. So why’d you lug the duffel with you? Planning on staying awhile?”

  Nikki swallowed and blinked—caught in her lie. After a quick second, she collected her thoughts enough to glare at him with hands on hips, going on the offensive.

  “Why don’t you go and take care of your…lizard.” She raised her chin in defiance. “I got better things to do than talk to you.”

  Pretty lame, but it was all that sprang into her head. The guy smirked and walked by her with a shrug, more amused than pissed. But before he got near the men’s room entrance, he glanced over his shoulder and checked out the car driving up. Maybe in the shadows and the glare of the headlights, he wouldn’t see much. Or God willing, the whole incident wouldn’t register with him. He vanished into the darkness of the men’s room, but not before the damage had been done.

  She had overreacted. Chalk it up to a bad case of nerves, but now someone had seen her and the car. Her only prayer was that the kid would be gone in the morning, before the search for her had begun.

  As planned, the vehicle parked and flashed its lights twice. From this range and through the headlights, Nikki couldn’t see inside. Almost sick to her stomach, she reached down to pick up her duffel bag and hoisted the strap over a shoulder. She looked up the footpath and down, to make sure no one else saw, then ventured from the trees. She walked toward the car, gravel crunching underfoot. Even up close she still was unable to see the driver’s face. And no one got out. When she reached for the door, doubt kicked her heart into high gear and throbbed in her ears.

  She knew once she got inside there’d be no turning back. After taking one last breath of the crisp night air, she opened the rear door and tossed in her bag, then slipped into the front passenger seat and shut the door behind her.

  She didn’t want to believe in regrets.

  Harrison Police Station

  3:25 A.M. CST

  After Sam got to Harrison Station, Sergeant Miller filled her in on what had happened and directed her to the holding room where they’d detained Jess for questioning. Detective Ray Garza was interrogating her now. Baker had been taken into custody but was kicked loose. No arrest.

  So why were they still questioning Jess?

  Sam was digesting all the details of her friend’s encounter with Baker and the aftermath when she opened the door to the adjoining observation room. She found Chief Nathan Keller dressed in a pricy suit and standing in the darkened room with only the light from the adjacent interrogation room shining through the two-way mirror. He glanced at her with little acknowledgment and turned his attention back to the interrogation without saying a word.

  Sam contemplated the possibility of slinking from the room, but for the sake of her friend she took a deep breath and joined the chief, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the dimly lit room.

  When she caught her first look at Jess, her eyes widened with shock. She fought to stifle her reaction.

  Jessie was battered and bruised. Cuts and scrapes on her face were stark under the fluorescent lights, making her skin appear ghostly pale. Jess stared at Detective Garza, sitting across from her, her face unreadable, her eyes blank. Sam knew that look. Jess had survived worse than Garza could dish out in his wildest imaginings. No way the detective would break her.

  A voice came over the speaker overhead, sounds of the interrogation.

  “Tell me one more time, what were you doing at the hotel?”

  “I already told you.”

  Jess sounded tired, but there was an underlying intensity to her demeanor, a shrewd feline ready to pounce on its prey. At times Sam could read her friend, but only if Jess let her.

  “I came to talk to Baker. I got a tip he’d be there.”

  “Talk? About what?”

  “A private matter, between me and him.”

  “Since when do you talk with a Colt Python in your hand? The hotel clerk said you chased after Baker, carrying a weapon.”

  “In that neighborhood, I’d be foolish not to protect myself. And you gotta admit, a Colt Python is a pretty nifty ice breaker.” Jess shifted in her seat. “Are you gonna arrest me? If not, I think I’ve had enough fun for one evening. I need my beauty sleep.”

  Sam understood her friend’s sarcasm about her looks. When Jess looked in the mirror, she only saw the scars. And any man interested in her only wanted one thing, according to Jessie. She gave it when she had the same urges, but the room had to be completely dark and on her terms. No romance. No talking. No future. Jessie had no time for complications.

  “She’s a cagey one.” The chief finally said. “Your friend should consider exercising her right to remain silent.”

  “She may have the right, sir, but she sure doesn’t have the ability.”

  She caught Chief Keller glancing down at her with a faint look of amusement.

  “What’s your interest in this, Detective?”

  The man turned his attention to Jess in the next room. Sam did the same.

  “Personal, sir.”

  Jess wasn’t the only one who knew about cagey. Sam’s answer was the equivalent of saying, “With all due respect, none of your business, sir.” She tightened her jaw, waiting for his response.

  Silence filled the tight quarters. Sam felt the tension as Chief Keller stiffened beside her. The occasional voices carried over the speaker above, but the noise was muffled in her head. She was too distracted to register what was said.

  After a long moment the chief spoke.

  “Understand this, Detective Cooper. If you expect to advance your career, you must avoid the negative perceptions of others by steering clear of controversy. Your personal friend in there is mired in it. Par for the course, from what I can see.”

  The man knew more about her relationship with Jess than she had given him credit for. She shut her eyes tight. None of this bode well for her career. The chief continued, dropping another bombshell.

  “You may have to make a choice, Detective. That is, if you truly want to make the leap into the homicide division.”

  He knew about her political maneuverings inside the department, lobbying for Homicide. She swallowed, hard. This was either a very good thing or she had completely blown
it.

  As if reading her mind, he added, “I’ve got my eye on you, Samantha. I expect your help in persuading your stubborn friend to let things cool between her and Baker. For both your sakes, I hope she listens to you.”

  He turned to go, but Sam couldn’t resist another question.

  “What happened with Baker, sir?”

  She already knew the answer to her question. Sergeant Miller had briefed her, but she wanted to see if the chief would lie. Unfortunately, the man had a third option in mind. He completely ignored her insubordination.

  “Process her out and get her home, Detective Cooper. Mr. Baker is none of your concern.”

  Chief Keller left the room. And Sam never turned around.

  Next door, Garza had given up and left Jess alone. Her friend sat rigid in the chair, not giving an inch. Eventually, she shifted her gaze to the mirror, knowing someone stood behind it. With stubborn defiance, Jess glared at the glass. Sam wanted to smile but knew the pain behind those eyes. The defense mechanism it took to hide her true emotions had been borne from years of abuse and the unflinching will of a survivor.

  Sam debated how much to tell Jess about what she’d learned about Baker. In the end she decided she could never talk Jess out of her personal vendetta, nor did she want to.

  Anchorage International Airport

  3:20 A.M. AKDT

  Claire Hanson had already been on edge, but when the young girl didn’t say much during the drive from Talkeetna to Anchorage, it made the trip seem like an eternity. Her attempt at conversation died on the Parks Highway when the girl avoided eye contact and kept to simple answers, if she replied at all. Her young passenger merely stared out the side window onto a murky blur of scenery.

  And the chill in the morning air closed in on them both.

  Claire didn’t know what to expect, given the girl’s special situation. But the poor kid needed help, leaving her little choice but to do what she could. Besides, the resemblance was uncanny. Even if she’d wanted to call the whole thing off, she couldn’t—not after seeing the girl’s face.

  The airport terminal was busier than she expected, with the first bank of red-eye flights departing Anchorage. After pulling to the curb marked for departures, Claire parked the Subaru and turned off the engine. She leaned toward the girl and forced her to make eye contact this time.

  “Everything’s going to be okay now. You’ll see.”

  She reached out and stroked a loose strand of hair off the kid’s face, a familiar gesture that clouded Claire’s eyes with painful memories. The girl nodded, her eyes brimming with the start of tears, but she said nothing.

  “Here’s your ticket and ID. You know what to do, right?” Handing over an envelope, Claire tried to keep the tension from her voice. “I mean, he told you what to do, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, I know what to do.” The troubled kid managed a fleeting smile. “And thanks.”

  After a long moment burdened by the silence between two strangers, the girl looked at her plane ticket, then opened the car door and got her belongings from the backseat. While she did, Claire searched her mind for something to say. Anything to make one last connection. She wanted nothing more than to ask the girl to call her when she got where she was going—a mother’s instinct. But she had no right to ask that. She knew this would be the last time she’d see her.

  Knowing she’d done the right thing had to be enough.

  After the car doors slammed, the girl walked into the airport terminal looking small and unprepared, lugging her big duffel bag. A breath caught in Claire’s throat when the girl turned to look over her shoulder and waved. At that moment—for the first time—she felt a twinge of doubt.

  If she had done the right thing, why did it feel so wrong?

  Nikki had wanted to tell the woman not to worry, but Ivana had warned her not to talk to her. Her father had made the arrangements and could get into a lot of trouble if she did. Best friends don’t rat each other out, she’d told her. Besides, Ivana and her father were only trying to help.

  Despite what she’d been told, Nikki couldn’t help but make one final gesture to the woman who had driven her to Anchorage. She turned to catch a glimpse of Claire through the huge airport window and waved one last time. Red taillights disappeared down a departure ramp against the backdrop of a pale gray morning. A part of her felt rooted to the spot, yet another part yearned to make her first step toward a new beginning.

  Finally, she slung the duffel bag over her shoulder and headed for the airline check-in counter. Soon she’d be in Chicago to meet her friend Ivana Noskova and her father. When she walked by a bank of public pay phones, she stopped and glanced down at her watch. She checked her plane ticket once again and knew she’d have time before her flight took off.

  Nikki tossed down her bag and pulled out some coins, but not before she retrieved a special remembrance from her fanny pack. The photo off her desk. It was from her thirteenth birthday, one of the last days she’d been truly happy. She couldn’t leave it behind.

  She gazed at the photo and placed the call.

  She knew that receiving a call at this time of morning would trigger a sense of panic in most people that something bad had happened—but not Uncle Payton. With him, there was a fifty-fifty chance he’d be home at all. He lived on the lunatic fringe of humanity. A restless soul. Nikki couldn’t resist reaching out to him. She knew why she split from her mother, but Uncle Payton was another story. She hoped he would understand that she had to do this.

  As the phone rang, she held her breath. If he answered, she wasn’t sure what she’d say. Mostly, she just wanted to hear his voice, and she wasn’t disappointed.

  “I’m screening my calls to avoid someone. Leave a message, but if I don’t call you back, then it’s you.”

  A long beep followed Uncle Payton’s gravelly voice. Despite her situation, Nikki smiled at his latest message. And his voice sounded so good. But with a lump in her throat, she clutched the receiver, barely able to speak. A tear slid down her cheek.

  She left Payton a message, the only words she could manage. And after a long moment, she hung up the phone and stared at the family photo in her hand.

  Even amidst a crowd, she had never felt so alone.

  Chicago

  6:35 A.M. CST

  With the veil of night lifted, the overcast sky shed its dull pewter glow along a landscape of urban sprawl. The dismal smell of rain made the air muggy. Normally, mornings like this would have challenged Sam to leave the comfort of her bed—an everyday occurrence if she lived in Jess’s hood. She turned off the Stevenson Expressway onto Cicero Avenue going south. Jess had barely said a word the whole trip, no doubt her mind entrenched in her next moves, if Sam knew her friend.

  And she did.

  “Did you hear what I said about Baker? He’s a snitch for one of the detectives in Vice. Unless he blatantly breaks the law and gets caught doing it, we won’t be able to touch him, Jessie.”

  Sam heard the word “we” come out of her own mouth and hoped Jess would ignore it. Too much to hope for.

  “Don’t worry, Sam. We won’t, but I might feel the urge to reach out and touch the bastard in my own special way.”

  After a long moment of silence, Jessie added, “He’s probably only getting rid of his competition by ratting them out. I’d say the guy is vermin on two legs, but I wouldn’t want to insult the rat population.”

  Sam had to agree with her assessment. No way she’d have someone like Baker as a snitch. She would have picked another way to obtain information off the streets. The guy didn’t deserve the Get Out of Jail card the CPD had reluctantly granted him. She gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield, unsure what to say next.

  Under the rumble of Midway Airport, just southwest of downtown, the normally bustling thoroughfare was quiet by comparison to what it would be in an hour. Commercial fast food, gas stations, and minimarts lined the avenue, crammed in and competing for space. In her mind, the exhaust fu
mes of the heavily traveled street and the annoying roar of the flight path of a busy airport created a mix of sights and sounds that had all the aesthetic appeal of a greasy oil slick. The marginal businesses choked out the small homes and apartment complexes, casting a dingy pallor across the older residential neighborhood.

  Totally depressing.

  “Things never change here in paradise.”

  Sam couldn’t resist the jab as she pulled into an apartment parking lot off the main drag and headed for an empty slot marked for visitors near the rental office. A small two-story complex had been converted from an old motel into apartments. Oatmeal gray paint peeled off the exterior walls, suffering from an overdose of neglect. The only color in a sea of apathy, gang signs were painted across the rusted metal mailboxes located near the door of the rental office, right under the nose of an indifferent management.

  “Yeah, I pinch myself every day.”

  “What? Hoping you wake up from your self-inflicted nightmare?”

  Her sarcasm didn’t get a rise out of Jess, but they’d had this argument before. And she was in no mood to rehash it.

  “You okay for money? ’Cause I can—”

  “Don’t…” Jess interrupted. “Please don’t say it. I don’t need money.”

  Sam caught the flinch of her jaw, and Jess crossed her arms, looking as if she hurt, on the outside and in.

  “It’s just that Baker is not a bail jumper. Unless you know something I don’t, you won’t earn a dime from chasing his miserable ass. You’re fixated on him, and I’m…I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

  “I’ve got my reasons, Sam. And sometimes it’s not about money. I thought you got that.”

  She definitely got it. She wasn’t going to retire early on what she made as a cop, but she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.