“No.”
He didn’t need the information; the police did. Once the cops had a new suspect, he hoped to hell they would leave him and his girls alone. His anger subsided. Bethany had paid for her disloyalty with her life, and he was tired of her anyway. But Emma was still a ripe peach, ready for picking. He gestured at Jewel. “Come with me to call the police. They need to know about her boyfriend.”
He hurried toward his office, eager to get this bullshit over with. He hadn’t spent any time in the greenhouse yet today, and it was making him edgy. Need was his constant companion. Food, sex, stimulation—he constantly craved something. But the greenery and damp lushness of the garden always soothed him. For a while. As a kid, he’d often escaped his father’s angry fist by hiding in the public gardens near their house. As a troubled teenager, he’d been assigned to work in those gardens, learning to grow food. Much of the fresh produce had been donated to local soup kitchens, an idea that had stuck with him.
Jewel lagged behind, and he waited for her at the office door. “Hurry up.”
“I don’t want to talk to the police.” Tears trickled down her face.
“You want to help find Bethany’s killer, don’t you?” Deacon was surprised by his patience with her.
“Yes, but I’m nervous.” She pressed her lips together. “I doubt if that boy killed her. He’s just a kid.”
“We’ll let the detectives decide that.” Deacon stepped aside and let Jewel enter first. He pulled his cell phone out of the top drawer, hesitating to use it. But he had to get a new one soon anyway. Deacon keyed in the number from the detective’s card and focused on Jewel. “Just tell them what you know about Bethany’s contact with the neighbor boy.”
The door opened, and Margo stepped in. “What’s happening now?”
Deacon held up his hand to silence her. “We’re calling the police. Jewel saw Bethany sneak out to see a local boy.”
Margo looked skeptical and worried. “What if she was murdered by the I-5 Killer? The rest of our girls could be in danger.”
CHAPTER 13
Friday, April 21, 9:25 a.m.
At the kitchen table, Rox sipped coffee and read through her notes on the case, unsure of what to do next. Bethany’s murder changed everything. If Blackstone had killed her, the timetable for Emma’s extraction would need to be compressed. Even if he hadn’t, the I-5 Killer probably had, and the psycho might target more Sister Love girls. She remembered the person she’d seen lurking at the truck stop. He was probably harmless, maybe even an undercover cop. But still, Rox wasn’t worried just about Emma. All the other young women in the charity were vulnerable too. But why would Blackstone risk everything to murder one of his members? If he was guilty, his motive had to be about money—unless it was a spontaneous crime of passion. Maybe Bethany had spurned him sexually, and he lost control?
On the other hand, if Bethany was a victim of the I-5 Killer, which seemed more likely, then maybe Rox still had time to plan a careful sting operation. Her burner phone rang in her pocket, startling her. Probably the Carsons. There wasn’t much chance of landing another x-client already.
Rox hurriedly picked up, noticing she’d missed an earlier call from the same number. “Karina Jones.”
“This is Jenny Carson.” The woman sounded breathless. “Emma called me earlier this morning.”
That was unexpected. “What did she say?”
“She asked us to donate ten thousand dollars to the charity. If we do, we supposedly get to see her for an hour. I don’t know what I should do.”
An opportunity! “We need to make this opening work for us. Let me think about when and where.”
“I’m sure the bastard plans to be there and chaperone.” Jenny’s voice rose even higher. “How do we get Emma alone?”
“I’m working on that.” Rox’s first thought was Kyle. Maybe he could arrange for Blackstone to be picked up for questioning . . . just moments after Emma connected with her parents. Not easy, but doable. “I have contacts with the police, so I’ll see what I can set up.”
“There’s more.” Jenny’s voice trembled with worry. “Did you see the paper this morning? A Sister Love member, a girl named Bethany, was murdered.”
“I know. I’m worried too. But the police think Bethany was a victim of the I-5 Killer.” She might as well put her client at ease.
A pause. “Blackstone only gave us until the end of the day to make up our minds about the donation, but I don’t think Dave will go along. He’ll say it’s extortion or blackmail or something.”
“Technically it’s a bribe. But when it’s between individuals and not government officials, it’s not illegal. Did Blackstone ask for cash?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll have you bring the money and show it to him, but tell him he can’t have it until you get your full hour.” If Blackstone was picked up by police or somehow distracted, the Carsons could keep their ten grand. “Meet me at my office in an hour, and we’ll call him back from there with a plan.”
“Should I bring the cash to your office?”
“It can’t hurt to have it ready.”
Jenny let out a muffled cry. “I’m so worried about my little girl.”
Rox felt a rush of empathetic pain. For a moment she couldn’t think. Finally she said, “The police are probably at the compound right now, questioning Blackstone. So Emma is safe for the moment.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in an hour.”
They both hung up, and Rox paced the house, visualizing places they could arrange to meet with Blackstone. She had to call Kyle. If she could get an officer to pick up the cult leader during the meeting, or at least pull him away, they might have a chance to grab Emma. A best-case scenario. Blackstone might have his own ideas about where to set up the meet. He might even bring his girlfriend for extra security.
She pressed Kyle’s speed dial icon. Not surprised that he didn’t answer, she left him a message. “Please call me right away. My client has an opportunity to get her daughter away from Blackstone, but I could use some police assistance.” Where the hell was Kyle? At the work camp questioning Blackstone? Would he even listen to her message? He hadn’t come over the night before, but she understood. Murder investigations were intense during the first few days, and she usually didn’t see or hear from him when he took a new case. The serial killer task force was a unique situation, and she hoped her peripheral involvement would motivate him to at least call and ask what the hell she was talking about.
Time to get her partner over to brainstorm again. She texted Marty: New developments in the case. Let’s discuss.
While she waited to hear from him, she called the Clackamas County office. Should she pretend to be a real estate buyer or just be honest? A clerk answered, and Rox went with the truth. “I’m a private investigator looking for a missing young woman. I believe she’s living with a cult on a property that used to be owned by the county. A work camp that probably served as an alternative jail.”
“How can I help you?”
“I need to know who owns the property and how to contact them, if possible.”
“We don’t usually do property searches, but you’re welcome to come in and browse the archives yourself.”
She’d expected that. “A young woman is missing, and her parents haven’t seen her in months. Another young woman in the same cult was murdered two days ago.” Rox paused to let the clerk absorb all that. “I have to find the girl now, and I need your help.”
A pause. “What’s the address?”
“I’m not exactly sure. It’s on a dead-end lane that has no sign. It’s off Barton Road, about seven miles from Highway 212.” Rox sat down at her computer and opened Google Maps. “I’m checking the location right now. I should have a street number in a moment.” She’d asked Marty to find the owner, but then they’d heard about Bethany and got sidetracked.
“Maybe you should call back when you’re ready.”
“Hang on, I’ve got it.”
Rox zoomed in on the address Google displayed on the short lane labeled “Hamm,” then read the long number out loud.
The clerk gave an exasperated sigh. “Give me a minute.”
“Thanks.”
While she waited, Rox checked her phone. No missed calls or texts. The familiar knock on the front door made her smile. Marty. She called out, “Clear,” and he came in, looking sharp in a new T-shirt and black pants.
“You’ve been clothes shopping!”
“So?”
“You hate shopping as much as I do.”
“You’ve never noticed my clothes before.” Marty grinned. “That treatment must be working.”
Had she never commented on his appearance? Really? Another thought hit her. “Are you dating that woman you met at the swing dance club?”
Another shy smile. “Maybe.”
“I want to hear about it, but not now.” Rox pointed at her earpiece. “I’m on hold with the county, so help yourself to some coffee.”
The clerk took another three minutes, and Marty behaved himself by not bugging her until she was off the phone. Rox hung up and turned to him. “The owner of the work camp land is Charles Zumwalt. Can you track him down? Even if he can’t help us get Emma out, he should at least know what’s happening on his property.”
“Maybe he does know.” A lifelong cop, Marty didn’t give anyone credit they hadn’t earned. He grabbed her grocery list off the fridge and wrote down the owner’s name. “Sorry I didn’t get this done yesterday. I called the county and had to leave a message.”
“No problem, but leave me the top half of that, please.”
He glanced at her grocery list. “Cereal and toilet paper. I think you can remember that.”
She laughed and sat down at the kitchen table again. Her coffee was cold now. “We need a plan.”
He took a seat across from her. “We should sand and refinish this table, but give me the updates first.”
Was that a wink? “Emma called her mother and asked her to donate ten grand to the charity.”
Marty whistled. “Holy moley!”
“In exchange, the Carsons get to see their daughter for an hour.”
“That’s harsh. Do they have that kind of money?”
“Yeah, they’re loaded. But we’re not going to actually let Blackstone have the cash.” Rox tapped her stepdad’s hand. “This is where I might need your help. If I can’t get Kyle to pick up Blackstone during the meet, then I need a uniform to pull him aside or detain him somehow. If I can just get some alone time with Emma, I think I can convince her to leave the cult.”
“I’ll ask Bowman. When and where is this meet set up?”
“We’re not sure yet, so let me talk to Kyle first. Blackstone is a suspect in his case, so Kyle will be upset if I don’t loop him in.”
“Roger that.” Marty shifted, looking eager to get moving. “You said developments. What else have you got?”
“Maybe that’s it.” She had called Marty right after her meeting with the task force the night before, so he just needed the morning news.
“Did you drive out to the truck stop after we talked last night?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t find the crew. I knew that was likely; I was just too hyper to come home.”
“I’m ready to move forward too. Blackstone and his whole operation give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“He’s a sneaky predator.” Rox shivered. “I prefer bad guys who don’t try to hide who they are.”
“You and me both.” Marty took his coffee cup to the sink. “What’s next?”
Oh hell. She had to get going. Rox jumped up. “I’m meeting Jenny Carson at the office. She’s going to call Blackstone and set up the rendezvous with Emma.”
“Okay. I’ll run down the landowner and wait to hear from you.” Marty saluted and headed out.
Twenty minutes later, Rox pulled in behind her work building, relieved she hadn’t seen Jenny Carson’s white Mercedes in the front parking lot. She hurried into her interior office, hoping to keep her client in the lobby. She wanted to stay anonymous, if she could. But if any case would make her break the rule and risk being charged, it was this one. A jury would be as disgusted by Blackstone as she was.
Rox stood at her desk. On the way over, she’d decided the meeting should be someplace with crowds to blend into but also with pockets of private spaces. She assumed Blackstone would be thinking the same thing. A coffee shop inside a mall maybe? The front office bell sounded, and she glanced at the monitor. Jenny Carson stood at the door, looking classy in a black belted sweater—but worried too. In addition to the clutch purse in her hand, she wore a satchel strapped across her chest. Good, she had the cash with her. Now they just needed Blackstone to cooperate. Rox buzzed her in, suddenly irritated that Kyle hadn’t called her back.
“Hi, Jenny. Have a seat.” A wave of self-consciousness rolled over her, and Rox felt compelled to apologize. “I’m sorry we can’t meet face-to-face, but it’s to protect both of us.” She realized she was getting too emotional about this case and needed to step back. She might not succeed in bringing Emma home. Or the girl might run right back to the cult. Blackstone’s charity might be perfectly legal and keep chugging right along either way.
“I understand.” Mrs. Carson sat down and pulled out her phone.
“Tell him you want to meet at Joey’s Coffee near Waterfront Park.”
Jenny’s lips trembled as she pressed the keys. While she waited, the pretty woman looked up at the monitor. “They called from Emma’s phone. I was overjoyed to see that they still have it.”
But Blackstone might toss it after today. He was smart and careful. “Put him on speaker, please.” She would send Jenny texts if she needed to communicate with her privately.
“I did.” She placed her cell on the little desk.
Her client tensed as Blackstone’s voice came through. “Are you making a donation?”
“Yes. And I have the cash.”
“Great. Meet us at the Lotus Blossom in the Lloyd Center Mall in one hour.”
“But my husband needs—”
Blackstone had hung up.
“Shit.” They both said it at the same time.
The bastard was crafty too. “This is too fast,” Rox said. “I need time to get a police officer involved.”
“And Dave needs more advance warning. He’s a busy man. But I’ll call him and see if he can get away from his meetings.” Jenny called her husband, then stood and walked toward the door.
She wanted privacy. Rox didn’t hear their conversation, but when her client turned back, her brow was furrowed. She was pissed.
“Everything all right?”
“He can’t be there.” Jenny’s mouth tightened. “His loss. He won’t get to see our girl.”
“We’d better go.” Rox pulled on her sweater. “I’ll keep out of sight. But I want a good look at Blackstone if nothing else. And I’ll make another call and try to get an officer to pull him aside so I can move in and talk to Emma.”
“I hate doing this without Dave.” Jenny sounded scared.
“You’re going to see your daughter. It’s a positive development.” Rox needed her to be confident. “This is a concession for him. Blackstone’s need for money gives us leverage, a foot in the door.” Rox smiled, then remembered her client couldn’t see her through the pixilation. “Don’t worry. I’ll be nearby, watching. I’ve had extensive physical training, both as a police officer and federal agent. You’ll be safe.”
“I’m not afraid of Deacon Blackstone. I’m afraid Emma will walk away from me again.”
Rox didn’t know what to say.
CHAPTER 14
Rox got on the phone with Marty while walking to her car. “Hey, we need a uniform at the Lotus Blossom in the Lloyd Center Mall one hour from now. Can you make that happen?”
“I’ll do my best. I’ve already tried Bowman, but he’s on duty, so not likely taking personal calls. But if I keep trying, he might get curio
us. I’ll try Foster too. But that may be it. A lot of my old partners have retired.”
“I know. It’s a big favor.”
“I’ll be there as backup.” Marty made a throaty noise. “If we can’t get an on-duty cop, do you want me to step in and try something? You know, bump into Blackstone and see if I can trigger a reaction. Maybe draw him away?”
She briefly considered it. “No. I think he’s too slick and potentially violent. He might not even respect a uniformed officer.”
“I’ll just keep him in sight and be on standby to assist with the girl.”
Would Marty try something anyway? “Hey, don’t be a hero. If today doesn’t work, we’ll still try a safe extraction, with Blackstone out of the way.”
“Roger that.”
They hung up, and Rox drove toward downtown, her heart accelerating as wild scenarios played out in her mind. Fantasies in which Blackstone tried to take the money and run or got aggressive and she had to drive a fist into his throat. She’d been wanting to hurt someone ever since her sister had died. Three months of hitting a bag at the gym hadn’t taken much of the edge off, so she’d started her business to put her anger to productive use. Still, she would have to control herself around Blackstone. Assaulting him could blow the case entirely and drive Emma deeper into his clutches. The last thing they needed was for the girl to perceive Blackstone as a victim.
The drive took only twenty minutes, but getting parked in the tall garage sucked up another ten. By the time she approached the mall, Jenny Carson was already seated at a little table just outside the restaurant door. Her client glanced around anxiously as Rox hurried by, head down, staring at her phone. She stepped into the store next door and turned back to watch, staying near the door. How long could she pretend to look at hats before the clerk got nervous and started hovering?
A few minutes later, a beefy, handsome man in a knit cap and denim jacket approached. Barely visible behind him was a scrawny girl with white-blonde hair. Rox couldn’t see her face yet. The man was thick chested, with a strong jaw and wide-set eyes. But not totally Caucasian. She hadn’t noticed his ethnicity in the small file photo. Was he half black? African Americans in Portland were so rare, they had their own website. None of that mattered. As the two people neared Mrs. Carson, the girl stepped out and let herself be seen. Her pale skin made her seem anemic, but Emma had her mother’s classic rich-girl beauty: narrow nose, small mouth, and flawless skin.
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