Evil Without a Face (Sweet Justice)

by Jordan Dane

  She opened her eyes, tearing at her bed sheets, which were drenched in sweat. Gasping for air, she sat up and stared into the dark, her mind still anchored in the past.

  “No. Can’t be happening…make it stop.” She sucked air into her lungs and coughed, her throat parched.

  When she finally knew where she was, the old terrifying basement morphed into her apartment bedroom. One just as dark as the other, but with her apartment, the old man wasn’t coming for her. He didn’t have his hands on her again. And the little girl who had seen her poke a finger through the hole—that little girl didn’t exactly save her back then, but had played a part in her recovery. Sam had been her friend from that horrible beginning, and she knew the ugliness Jess hid from others. And Sam carried her own memories of how their paths had crossed.

  As a kid, Sam had seen her poke her finger out of the dark basement that day, but she didn’t mention it to her parents or anyone else. Later, Sam admitted it struck her as strange, but as a kid she had no idea the old man in that house could have done such a thing. The cops eventually rescued Jess, but not before weeks of abuse continued and another little girl had been taken. It took her a long while to understand why Sam hadn’t acted and done something. Eventually, she reasoned that innocent kids had a hard time fathoming adult sins. But Sam had held onto the guilt of not telling, and as easy as that, the old pervert claimed another victim.

  Now, the resurgence of old childhood memories had stirred that damned recurring nightmare—a nasty dream Jess hadn’t had in quite a while. But as images of Sam as a child flashed through her mind, an ugly aspect of the dream remained.

  Thud. Thump.

  The sound shocked her, holding her firm—mired in the horrific terrors of long ago.

  “What the hell?”

  Jess listened in the dark, for a repeat of the noise that made her heart lurch. After a second she heard the pounding again, followed by her doorbell.

  Damn it! Someone was at her front door. She glanced at the clock near her bed. Almost five in the morning and her bedroom was black, without a hint of sunrise. Who the hell would be rapping on her door this time of morning?

  She flung back the covers and got out of bed, then reached for the Colt Python stuck in her nightstand drawer. She didn’t bother to throw on a robe. Her plaid PJ bottoms and T-shirt would have to do. This didn’t sound like a social call. Gripping her weapon, she headed down the hallway to her door. With her back to a wall, she peeked out a side window to avoid looking through the peephole. If her caller was armed, she didn’t want to get shot through the door. When she got a good look at her early morning caller, she lowered her weapon.

  The irony wasn’t missed on her when she saw Sam at her front door, bridging the gap in time from that horrific day so long ago to now. Jess slowed her heart and opened the door with as much composure as she could muster.

  “You forget that you’ve got a new key?”

  Before Sam walked in, she stooped down to pick something off the landing. Sam might have interrupted her sleep, but at least she came bearing gifts. Jess smelled coffee and pastries coming from an IHOP bag.

  “I respect my friendships, unlike some folks I know.” Sam went straight to her kitchen and pulled out two large coffees, handing one to her as she set down her Colt Python on the breakfast bar.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means we’re at a crossroad, my friend. I don’t like being lied to by someone I love like a sister.” Sam rummaged through what was left of Jess’s dishes, plated a couple of cheese Danish, and grabbed napkins. “In case you haven’t noticed, I carry a badge and a gun. I can handle myself and I don’t need you to protect me.”

  She brought the pastries and her coffee to the kitchen table and sat, waiting for Jess to join her. When she did, Sam got a second wind.

  “Most days, it’s hard to figure out where you end and I begin, we are that much alike. But on other days, I firmly believe you should come with a warning label.” Sam took a sip of coffee and glared over the rim of the cup.

  Jess knew the look. “Yeah, but people like me keep churchgoers in business.”

  “Funny, Jess. But I’d settle for a little Laverne and Shirley, instead of the constant life or death drama of Thelma and Louise. I’ve got my shift in a couple of hours, so don’t screw with me. I don’t have time for games.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Jess knew she was a toxic influence on those around her, but she didn’t know how to change. The circumstances of her childhood set her on a collision course with life, and there had been consequences, but she wasn’t the type to take the easy way out for herself. Some things were worth fighting for, even if it meant she had to go it alone.

  “You used me to back you up yesterday, but you didn’t tell me the whole truth about Baker. You know it and I know it.”

  When she didn’t answer quickly enough, Sam jumped in.

  “Why Baker? What’s going on between you and this particular loser? What’s the trigger that sets you off? I think you know what I’m talking about.” She set down her coffee cup. “Does it have something to do with—”

  “Please…don’t go there.” Jess got to her feet, too antsy to sit. She dragged fingers through her mussed hair. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  Sam had been the only person she had shared the darkest moments of her life, something no one else should know about another human being. Yet they’d remained friends through it all. She knew it took courage for her to keep Sam in her life, a living reminder. But there were times when she wondered if her childhood friend had become part of her penance, an odd form of self-abuse.

  “I think we need to, Jess. That situation with Baker could have turned ugly. And Seth Harper would’ve been caught in the middle.”

  Jess knew she was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. She took a deep breath and ventured onto treacherous ground.

  “I don’t want to be defined by my past anymore. It’s not who I am. I’ve left that part of me behind.”

  “Have you, Jess? Have you really?” Sam pressed. Her voice raised, it echoed in the stark silence of early morning. “Ignoring the past isn’t dealing with it. You’ve shoved the tough stuff so deep that you’ve convinced yourself it’s gone. But every time another Baker comes along, something goes off in your head that turns you into a crazy person. Your judgment gets…clouded.”

  Sam voice’s softened. “Maybe it’s not about leaving the pain behind. Maybe you have to face it head on.”

  Jess leaned against a wall, staring across the room without seeing anything in particular. Morning had edged its way onto the horizon, and a dull gray leached through the blinds.

  “Have you talked to anyone else?” Sam asked. “I mean, about what happened back then?”

  Sam’s subtle way of asking if she’d undergone any recent therapy. When she was a kid, after she was rescued, she’d become a ward of the state of Illinois and had her fill of third-rate therapists and counselors to last her a lifetime. No thanks.

  “No, you’re the only one who…really knows how it was.” Jess closed her eyes, taking comfort in the quiet. And Sam let her find words, in her own time. “Most days, I distance myself from it until someone like Baker stirs it up again. Then you’re right, I’m out of control. Sometimes I can’t even breathe, I get so…sick that it’s never gonna be over.”

  The abuse she had endured as a kid had left its marks, literally. No human being should endure that kind of shame, especially a child. She had dug deep for the courage to survive, but she still had nightmares because of it, instigated by any number of triggers.

  “I hate this…the fact that I can’t shake it?” she finally admitted.

  “You’re a survivor, Jess. And I’m proud of who you’ve become, but being a survivor is not a sin that you have to atone for the rest of your life.”

  Sam reached for her hand, forcing her to sit.

  “Look, I know we’re not goi
ng to solve any of this tonight, but I did have a reason for coming here, Jess. I know about the skate rink and what you put into the locker. You should have told me the full story about Lucas Baker.”

  She flinched enough for Sam to notice.

  “Wait, how did you—” She stopped herself. She could have kept up the charade, but why? Sam was right. It was time to come clean with her friend. Frankly, she was relieved.

  “I needed proof, Sam. No cop was gonna believe me without concrete evidence. And that laptop is the key. Baker is up to his eyeballs with an international organization that is bartering in kids. I just…know it.”

  “And what exactly did you figure would happen?”

  “I had every intention of giving his damned computer back. Hell, it practically fell into my lap when I tried to wrangle his SUV. What was I supposed to do? I had to take a peek at what he had on his computer. But then the bastard got his hands on Seth and forced an exchange. He beat the kid up, for cryin’ out loud.” Jess took a swig of black coffee, then reached for a cheese Danish and pinched off a small bite with her fingers. “But by that time, Seth had already rigged Baker’s laptop with his Trojan horse program.”

  Nibbling on breakfast, Jess shrugged and went on.

  “I just figured we’d give the computer back and track the bastard’s movements firsthand. You know, not breaking the chain of evidence. Baker would have his laptop back and we’d track him using Seth’s really sweet software. Eventually, I figured we’d get the proof we’d need to put him away and save some troubled kids. A pretty slick idea.”

  “What makes you think Baker is running kids? If the man is working as an informant with CPD, don’t you think we’d know what he was up to?”

  Jess knew Sam wouldn’t want to hear about Baker running a scam on the CPD. The man didn’t flaunt his business in front of the law. He had played it smarter than that, flying below police radar, from what she could tell. She had a theory he was operating outside Chicago, keeping his nose clean in town. The guy didn’t piss close to home. And for the CPD’s efforts, he gave them a token lead every now and then, probably throwing them his competition. Sweet deal when you can get it. But it was time for the CPD to take a hard look at the bastard, and she hoped to convince Sam to be her messenger.

  “Well, where Baker is concerned, someone better open their eyes.” She set down her coffee cup and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “’Cause the guy is dirty. Seth found an e-mail on his computer, saying a delivery from Alaska was coming to Chicago yesterday. And the sender had a Russian name. The delivery was probably some poor kid. But with all the flights scheduled, no way I could cover ’em all. He’s running kids, Sam. I know it.”

  “From Alaska, you say.”

  “Yeah. Probably Anchorage. And the sender used a Russian name that was probably fake. It was linked to a classic Russian fable. Seth looked it up.” She might have laid it on a little thick about her theories on Alaska and a Russian connection, but she had Sam’s ear and took advantage of it. “Baker’s involved with a big operation, an international organization with a Web site called ‘Globe Harvest.’ He hits the site all the time. A site under construction, I might add. You’ll see. When Seth gets a login for Baker, you’ll see the whole setup for yourself. Baker’s not exactly a brainiac. He won’t outsmart my resident genius.”

  “Baker won’t be logging on anywhere, Jessie.”

  “Yeah, he will. He’s got his laptop back. In fact, I’m expecting a call from Harper anytime.”

  “Baker’s dead, Jess. He got gunned down outside the skating rink.”

  “What?” Jess slumped back into her chair. “When did this happen?”

  “Sometime around midnight.”

  “Who did it?”

  “Eyewitnesses weren’t clear. Some even reported seeing two shooters, maybe even a woman.” Sam crossed her arms. “Besides being dead, Baker’s got another little setback. His laptop is missing. Until now we didn’t know what was in the black bag. Thanks for filling in the gaps.”

  “Damn it! I thought I had him this time. Shit!” It didn’t take long for her to do the math, but when she did, she narrowed her eyes and glared at Sam.

  “Wait a minute. You set me up. You knew about Baker, but you wanted to see what I’d say. You played me like…a suspect.” She thought about it for a minute, then added, “You’ve been hanging around me too long. I don’t know if I should be mad or damned proud.”

  “Well, two can play the bluff game, but that’s not how friends should treat each other. Right now, you and me need to stick together. Detective Ray Garza is running his own investigation on the murder of Lucas Baker. And as of now, you top his list of suspects.”

  “But I didn’t do it. You know I didn’t do it.” She knew she was preaching to the choir, but she couldn’t help jumping to her own defense.

  “When he looks for fingerprints on that note you slipped Baker and that locker key, I’ve got money that he’ll find yours.”

  Jess thought about it for a second, then winced. “No bet. Shit! I’m totally screwed.”

  Sam leaned forward and grabbed her shoulder.

  “I know you didn’t kill Baker, but the way I see it, we’ve gotta stay one step ahead of Garza. Will Seth work as your alibi? If Baker was killed at midnight, you were with Harper, right?”

  Jess shrugged, but after thinking about Harper, more than a few things didn’t add up about her boy.

  “I’m not exactly sure what Seth actually does for a living. Believe it or not, he’s not getting rich on what I pay him, but he may not stand up to close scrutiny from the local cops…if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, that’s just great, Jess. You do realize how much trouble you’re in, right? You need an alibi. And preferably not somebody on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

  Jess got up to pace again.

  “Hell, for all I know, Seth has pulled up stakes. I nearly got him killed, Sam. I practically handed him over to Baker on a silver platter. If it were me…I would’ve quit me.” She dragged a hand over her face. “And the address I have for him may not be…exactly his.”

  “I swear to God, Jessie. You know the strangest people.”

  “Don’t forget, you’re at the top of my Christmas card list. Don’t be casting stones at my peeps.”

  Sam grimaced, then looked at her watch. “Look, I’ve got time before my shift. Get dressed. Let’s see if we can track down Harper. First and foremost, you need a legitimate alibi.”

  “I do have his cell phone number. Let me try calling first. If he ignores the call, I might consider that a very bad sign.”

  Jess went to her bathroom and took her phone off the charger to place a call to Seth. She walked back into the kitchen as his phone rang. On the fifth ring it beeped and rolled into voice mail without an outgoing message. She tried again and got the same result. Not having a good feeling about all this, she didn’t leave a message.

  When Sam narrowed her eyes in question, Jess shrugged and said, “Strike one. He didn’t answer my call.”

  “Well, it’s bottom of the ninth with bases loaded. And it doesn’t look good for the home team, Jessie. We gotta find Harper.”

  Before she got dressed, Jess wanted Sam’s take on her chances, being a glutton for abuse.

  “Sam? What if we can’t find him? Without an alibi, when would Detective Garza come looking for me?”

  “Hard to say.” She shrugged. “He won’t know the note is from you. I recognized the handwriting and didn’t say anything. And it’ll take time for the lab to lift prints, but he’ll find a fingerprint match when he conducts his usual database searches. He’ll score a hit on your permit to carry the Python.”

  Sam took a swig of coffee and continued speculating.

  “But you’re already on his list of suspects after your recent beef with Baker. He could act on that alone and bring you in for questioning as a person of interest. And I’d say you’re gonna look awfully bad when he backtracks Baker’s time prior to his
murder. Folks will remember that fight you had at The Cutthroat. Another run-in with Baker on the night of his murder won’t sit well with Garza.”

  Jess crossed her arms, feeling a sudden chill in the air. “Damn it! I almost forgot about that.”

  “I could lie for you, Jess, and say I was with you until after one,” Sam offered without hesitation, looking her straight in the eye. “Harper’s the only one who’d know otherwise.”

  “Ah, Sam.” She hugged her friend and whispered in her ear, “That’s a tempting and generous offer, but I can’t let you do that.”

  After she pulled back, she added, “Nice to know you’d drive my Ford Bronco if I ever needed a lame getaway. But if I get dragged into this, I want a cop in good standing to help me. Taking down Baker’s organization is a bigger picture worth pursuing. I hope I can convince you of that.”

  After thinking about her predicament, Jess offered her hand.

  “I promise. No more lies, Sam. I mean it.” She gripped her hand and shook on their pact. “Now let’s find Harper. Maybe I’m only being paranoid about the kid. He’s probably right where I left him, licking his wounds. My luck has got to turn sometime.”

  Jess headed to her bedroom to change, sounding more confident than she felt. Her future rested on Seth Harper—whoever he was.

  Downtown Chicago

  “Shit, I can’t believe this!” From the secured foyer, Jess tried the buzzer to the penthouse suite again. Nothing. Seth was either gone or not answering. Neither prospect bode well for her. And out of respect for Sam, she didn’t try her usual antics to get buzzed into the building unannounced.

  “Are you sure this guy lives here?” Sam asked. “Hard to imagine a kid like that…here. This is a real upscale neighborhood. I doubt any of these people have even heard of Jerry Springer.”

  “Yeah, I thought the same thing when I first came here. Damn it! I should have listened to my gut instincts.”

  “Yeah, I bet the next time you hire an intern as slave labor, you’ll go through a legitimate temp agency to find the next sucker…I mean, employee.” Sam slathered abuse on thick. “Well, what now? You have any clue where to look for him?”