by M. Z. Kelly
Lucia slugged down half her gin and tonic. She studied Buck for a moment before finally saying, “Harvey and I were in a relationship. He liked to play rough. Tonight I told him that I’d had enough.”
“What do you mean by rough?” I asked.
Carly set her glass down, pulled her dress off her shoulders, and then unfastened her bra. She tossed the bra into a corner and through her tears said, “This is rough, but it’s been a lot worse.”
Clay Aster’s former secretary had bruises and cuts that covered the upper portion of her torso. Her skin was scarred and swollen in places where it looked like she was still recovering from whatever Brill had used on her. She also had several burn marks on her breasts that appeared to be healing.
I exchanged glances with Buck as Carly pulled her dress back up. Buck said, “Do you want to press charges?”
“Not if I want to live.” She brushed her tears, finished the rest of her drink, and went over to the white kitchen where she poured herself another. She took a swallow as she came back over to us.
“Tell us about Brill’s relationship with Aster,” I said. “How come they’re no longer partners?”
“Money,” she said, apparently finding some liquid courage. “Harvey has a gambling problem. He was skimming money from Clay so he was cut loose as a partner a few years back.”
“How much was he into Aster for?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure it was a lot. All I know is that Clay said he was making payments.”
“Maybe he got tired of the payments,” Buck said. “Ended the debt for good.”
Carly shrugged again, drank. “Maybe. He and Clay were a lot alike.”
“What do you mean?”
“The money, the sex, and the power. They were two of a kind.”
“What about the sex?” I asked. “Was Harvey jealous of your relationship with Clay.”
She laughed. “Hardly. Besides, as I said before, Clay and I were history. As for Harvey…let’s just say that we weren’t an exclusive item.”
“He cheated?”
She nodded, drank. “Like I said before, Harvey and Clay were two of a kind, especially when it came to sex.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The world comes slowly back to Grace Breslin, but it’s not the world she has known. This is a new world, a world full of terror.
The room is spinning, tumbling around her, the harsh overhead light bulb illuminating the walls and floor. Her throat is dry and she feels sick to her stomach. There’s a smell here. It reminds her of the garbage bins in the driveway of the group home where she lived.
As her head begins to clear Graces realizes that she’s on the floor, her face plastered against the stained green carpeting. The walls in the room are a dirty brown. They’re streaked with something dark brown that’s been spilled or splashed against them. There’s a window here but it’s covered over with boards and plastic. She has no idea how long she’s been unconscious, or even whether it’s daylight or nighttime outside the room.
Joey. His face and voice comes back to her.
You’re safe now, Grace. It’s okay to sleep. I’ll watch over you.
Did something happen to Joey? Maybe the man who stole her backpack hurt Joey and put her here. She wonders if Joey could be in another room, also held captive.
After several tries, Grace is able sit up, but her head is still pounding. She sees the door now and crawls over to it, reaching up and turning the knob. It’s locked. She holds her breath, leaning against the door, listening for sounds.
Silence.
“Hello,” she says, her throat burning as she says the word. “Is anybody out there?” There’s no answer. After a few more tries, she calls out, “Joey are you here? I need your help.” There’s no answer. Maybe she’s alone in the house, if this is a house.
Grace grabs ahold of the doorknob again, this time using it to pull herself up. It takes a couple of tries but she finally gets to her feet. The room begins spinning again as she stands, feeling like her head could explode.
The sour taste in her mouth comes back. She stumbles over to a bucket in the corner of the room and vomits. When she’s finished, it occurs to her that the bucket is probably there for other purposes.
Her throat is burning, on fire, now. Water. I’ve got to find water, she tells herself. But there is no water here. There is just the empty room and the panic of not knowing where she is. After going over to the window and realizing that it’s sealed tight Grace slumps down to the floor again. Her eyes fill with tears, her throat still burning, and reminding her of the time she had strep throat.
Hours pass and Grace’s mind retreats to the one thing that she knows. Numbers. She sees them dancing through her head and tries to count the sequence out loud.
“0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13…”
After a moment, her voice is gone. She counts in silence as the hours continue to pass and her mind drifts away again. She is lost, the consciousness that was her mind is adrift in an endless black sea. She knows that she is drowning but can’t pull herself out of the abyss.
Scratching.
Grace opens her eyes and leans forward. The sound is coming from somewhere outside the room. Maybe it’s just her imagination. She holds her breath, listening. The sound returns, softer than before but she knows it’s there. She moves over to the wall, placing her ear against it.
When she hears the sound again, Grace tries to call out. “I’m…hee…” It’s no use, her voice is gone. She raises a hand pounding it against the wall. She then stops. The sound returns. She pounds again. Listens. It’s there again.
Grace puts her ear against the wall again, desperately wishing she could call out, but she knows that her voice has been lost. The scratching sound comes again. Then there’s another sound. She can’t be sure but Grace thinks it could be the voice of a girl. The girl is crying.
Then she hears her calling out. “Help me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bernie and I met with Buck and the other members of the task force at the police station at eight the next morning. After I settled my furry partner into a corner, Lieutenant Sloan asked me to recap what I’d learned at the detention center.
When I was finished telling them what Roth and I had learned from Gloria Holquin, Tim Baxter scoffed, “The island might have a few prostitutes but it’s the first I’ve heard of any sex trade. I think the girl was making stuff up.”
“She seemed credible,” I said. “She had nothing to gain by lying.”
Julie Spencer set her latte on the table in front of her and said, “Some people are just chronic liars.”
“You sound like you’re an expert on the subject.” I got home late after our meeting with Carly Lucia and hadn’t slept well. I was running low on impulse control and the day had just begun.
“I’m not the one dating Peter Roth,” Spencer spat at me.
I laughed. “That’s true. I’ve heard your standards are much lower than Roth.”
“Enough,” Sloan said, heading off the confrontation as steam came off his detective like a hot radiator. “What Kate got out of the girl is a lead. We run it down, just like any other lead. Find out if it’s credible.”
The room was quiet for a moment, as Julie Spencer and I took some time contemplating ways to murder one another.
“Where are we on the search warrant for Aster’s place,” Sloan finally said. I heard the defeat in the lieutenant’s voice. Our case was continuing to make the morning headlines in the local press and some mainland papers. He was probably under intense pressure, something I was sure Sloan wasn’t used to on his sleepy little island.
“Should have it later today,” Baxter said. “I’ll let everyone know when it comes through.”
Buck then went on to tell the others about our evening with Carly Lucia, what we’d learned about Harvey Brill abusing her, and him and Aster both apparently being into kinky sex. We’d gone by Brill’s house after talking to Lucia last night but he wasn’t home.
Sloan said, “The guy’s a low life attorney who…”
“His name came up in something we found out yesterday,” Spencer said, interrupting him. “One of the security screeners at the courthouse, a guy named Brian Green, got a DUI about six months ago. I don’t know if it means anything but Brill was his attorney.”
“Let’s find Green and lean on him this morning and see what he says about Brill,” Buck said. We took a moment, dividing up duties before he gathered up his case file. “Kate and I are going to talk to the Robbins kid and try and locate Brill. We’re running out of daylight on this. Let’s move.”
On our way to try and locate Sissy’s boyfriend a thought occurred to me. I turned to Buck. He was wearing his hat and blue jeans, Wrangler’s to be exact, and a tan sports coat. His blue eyes sparkled and he smelled like soap. I pushed away thoughts about him being on the cover of one of those romance novels I sometimes read and said, “I think we’re circling something.”
“Hope it’s not a black hole.”
“Sex.”
“This sounds interesting. I’m all ears.”
“We know that the homicide victim in our case, Derek Shaw, was apparently trying to procure Maddie, and, who knows, possibly her friends, for whoever he worked for in the sex trade. Clay Aster, according to both his ex and Carly Lucia, was a sex addict. Maybe there’s a connection.”
He glanced over at me as we headed into a poorer section of the city. “Are you thinking that Aster could have been somehow connected to the sex trade?”
“It’s a possibility. Or maybe he defended someone who was involved. Who knows, he could have even taken his fees in the form of sexual favors from someone.”
“Maybe there’s also a connection to Brill.”
I nodded. “Let’s see what Mr. Brill has to say after we talk to the Robbins kid.”
The boy Sissy Maddox had chosen to fall in love with lived with his mother in an apartment complex that fronted a busy street. The apartments were brown and white cinderblock, built in a U-shape with dead shrubbery in the center. Low income housing apparently looked the same wherever you went, even on an idyllic island.
Buck knocked on the door to the apartment and a minute later we were met by a heavyset black woman. He flashed his badge and explained why we were there.
“He’s still in bed,” Robbins’ mother said, pointing to the living room. She was apparently unfazed by the fact that the police were knocking on her door early in the morning, asking to see her son. “If you can wake him up, he’s all yours.”
Josh’s bed, as it turned out, was the sofa. We found him sound asleep, wrapped up in a blanket like a mummy. After several tries, Buck finally got him to sit up. Robbins’ eyes fixed on Bernie who was staring at him and panting.
“What this shit about,” he said, rubbing his head and leaning away from my big dog. “I need my rest.”
I sat on the coffee table and faced him, since the chair next to the sofa was full of magazines and newspapers and there was no other place to sit down. “This is about a girl named Sissy Maddox,” I said, my voice kicking up.
“Who?”
“The girl who was in love with you.”
“What you doing, coming round here talkin’ this crazy shit? I don’t even know her.”
I breathed, trying to keep a lid on what was left of my impulse control. “Sissy attended Avalon High School. She was in the eleventh grade. She and two other girls were charged in a homicide and were kidnapped from the courthouse three days ago. I need you to tell us about your relationship with her. NOW.”
He smiled, cocked his head. “You kinda hot when you get mad. Whatcha doing later?”
“Taking you to the police station unless you cooperate.” My voice came up again. “Answer the question.”
He rolled his eyes, rubbed his head. “We was just hanging out together sometimes, it was nuthin.”
“Hanging out as in hooking up?” I said.
“Yeah. So what?”
“Sissy thought she was in love with you.”
“So?” He laughed. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
What in the hell did Sissy Maddox see in this little slime ball?
I glanced over at Buck as he said, “What do you know about Derek Shaw?”
“Who?”
“He was the homicide victim in the case Sissy and her friends were charged with.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Did Sissy ever mention him?” I asked.
He glanced at me, looked away, and slowly shook his head. “Naw.”
It was a tell. He was lying. I raised my voice and stood up, using the day’s last ounce of impulse control at the same time Bernie let out a deep growl. “Tell us about Shaw right now or you’re going downtown.”
His eyes finally came up to me and he sighed. “All I know is Sissy said some guy was trying to use her friend.”
“Maddie?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Did she say how he was trying to use her?”
“Sex, what else?”
“As in prostitution?”
He nodded. “Sissy didn’t like the guy, said he was bad news.” He crossed his arms, exhaled. “That’s all I know, I swear.”
After we left Robbins’ apartment we again went by Harvey Brill’s house and then his office. No one was around at either place, so I called his office and left a message on his answering machine.
“I’ve got a feeling Mr. Brill is avoiding us,” I said to Buck, unable to suppress a yawn.
He looked over at me. “Long night?”
“Not much sleep after chasing Carly around.” I glanced at him. “And you?”
“Me neither. Stayed up with a sick friend.”
I wondered if his sick friend was a girlfriend. I released a long breath, deciding if that was the case I didn’t want to know about it, at least for now. Our interview with Robbins brought something to mind. “Derek Shaw’s mother. We need to talk to her, see if she knows her son was pimping young girls.”
“I’ll make another call, but the last time we talked, his mama thought he walked on water so I doubt we’ll get much out of her.”
Buck agreed to drop me off at the Stardust so I could have lunch with my friends. On the way he mentioned that Lieutenant Sloan wanted him to pick up some donations for the upcoming policeman’s ball.
“So who are you taking…to the ball, I mean?” Even as I asked the question I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know. “From what I heard it’s supposed to be in the grand ballroom of the Wrigley Casino.”
He turned to me, smiled. I had a vision of him asking me to go with him, even saw myself picking out a new dress. The vision popped. “Haven’t decided if I’m taking anybody.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t said he was bringing a girlfriend.
Morty, as was his usual custom, met us as we came through the door into the Stardust Plaza. “I didn’t do it,” he said, yanking the cigar out of his mouth and puffing invisible smoke. He looked at me. “But if you wanna interrogate me I’ll go willingly.”
“You look guilty to me,” I said. “I think I’ll just handcuff you, take you in.”
Morty looked at Buck. “The dame’s all talk.”
Buck smiled at Morty, looked at me. “So I’ve noticed.”
After I introduced Morty to my new partner he puffed and said, “Used to pound a beat myself back in the fifties. The mean streets of Chicago, but it was really just a sound stage at Paramount. Course back then the crooks all looked like crooks. Now everybody looks like a damn crook.”
“I want them all thrown into a flaming pit of lamp oil, boiled until not even their own mothers would recognize them.” It was Sal Walsh, prancing around from above and delivering one of his Roman death sentences. Buck looked at me after taking in the performance, his eyebrows inching together.
“Emperor Maximus,” I explained. “One of his former roles.”
“Gluteus Maximus is more like it
,” Morty said. “Never saw an asshole that could talk until Sal got here.”
“Exercise class starts in ten minutes,” Loretta Swanson said, coming over to Morty. “I’ve saved you a place right next to me.”
Loretta turned her tarantula framed death rays on me before walking away. She was wearing a pair of tight yellow yoga pants. She stopped and bent over, exposing her ample derriere to Morty. Then she farted.
“Looks like there’s a little gas in the old bat cave,” Morty said, turning back to us after taking in the performance.
Natalie and Mo arrived as Morty wandered off, maybe looking for the Batmobile to get out of town. I introduced them to Buck who was wearing his Stetson, at the same time bracing myself. You never knew how my friends were going to react around a man, especially one as good-looking as my new partner. Natalie and Mo are a minus ten on a ten-point tact scale.
“Just so you know, Kate’s still on the rebound from what happened to her ex-boyfriend,” Natalie said to Buck. “In case you were thinking ‘bout trying to saddle her up.”
I felt my cheeks redden. I was trying to think of a comeback when Mo chimed in. “There ain’t nuthin wrong with a little rebound sex, especially when you’ve spent as much time as Kate has throwing air balls from the free throw line. Besides, she needs to get back in the saddle.”
I was mortified. “Buck and I…we’re not…we’re just working…the case.”
“I’ll bet,” Natalie said to Mo. “Kate’s working on a case all right, a case of the hots.” She met Buck’s blue eyes. “Did you know her lumpfish ex-husband was caught…”
“There’s Mr. Wentworth,” I said, taking Buck’s arm and escorting him away. “He’s the Stardust treasurer. I’m sure he has the donations for the policeman’s ball.” He laughed as I practically dragged him across the ballroom away from my friends.
When we were out of their earshot, he said to me, “Just so you know, I wanna hear all about what your ex was caught doing.”
“I’ll tell you all about it if you promise never to talk to my friends again.”
