“Why were you avoiding Kepler? You owe him money?” Jesse asked.
Booker stuffed his fat tongue in his cheek and gazed around the room. If avoiding Kepler was Booker’s reason for parking in the alley, Ellie figured it was as good as any. “How long were you in the area? Total time,” Ellie asked.
He shrugged then shook his head side to side. “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”
“And you didn’t see anything suspicious around the alley?”
“Nothing. Only thing I saw was that skinny kid that works at the fish market. He was pulling up when I was leaving.”
That matched what Dwayne Andrews had told her. “And you actually walked through the alley on your way to the insurance agency?”
He stared at her a moment as if she were the stupidest broad ever to be birthed. “Naw, I walked all the way ‘round the buildings,” he snipped, his head moving in a sing-song motion.
“The lady asked if you walked through the alley. You can tell her in a nice way that ‘yes’ you walked through the alley, or you can tell her ‘no, ma’am, I did not walk through that alley.’”
He cut laser eyes at Jesse, his lips curled in a bull-dog snarl. “You’re a piece of work, Alvarez.”
Ellie knew for a fact Jesse had been called much worse. “Did you walk through the alley, Reggie?”
“Of course, I walked through the alley. And I’m telling you, I didn’t see any kid.”
Jesse smiled like an excited kid. “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with? That’s all we wanted to know.”
Booker rolled his eyes then smirked. He glared at Jesse. “True what they’re saying on the street about you?”
“I don’t know. What are they saying on the street?”
Booker’s laugh started deep and low then rose in volume and tone like a submarine slowly coming to the surface. “They say you got busted down ‘cause you was sampling the evidence. You ain’t nothing but a two-bit street junkie, Alvarez.”
Although Booker had piqued her curiosity, Ellie was staying clear of this conversation.
Jesse grinned that sly grin of his and slowly shook his head.
Booker snorted. “Can I go now?”
Jesse motioned toward the door. “Go on and get out of here before I remember that gun violation. Officer Thomas will see you out.”
Booker stood, pulling himself inch by inch out of the chair, slowly rising to his full monstrous height. He purposely brushed the back of Ellie’s chair as he passed, his fingers lightly touching her hair, sending a cold shiver tingling up her spine. She waited until she was certain Booker was long gone before letting out a long sigh and dropping her head to the table.
“Now aren’t you glad you didn’t try to interview him at the gym?”
She lifted her head and glared at Jesse. “I think he’s the biggest man I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s just as mean as he is big, too, darling.” He kissed the top of her head, and to her surprise, she didn’t want to knock him silly.
She rose and stretched, arching her back like a cat. “Regardless of how big or mean he is, he didn’t give us anything we can use.”
“Yeah, he did. He gave us a good timeline. If he was in the alley at three, and the kid was found around five, we’ve got a two-hour time frame.”
“But how do we know for sure the kid wasn’t in the alley at three? Booker’s not exactly a reputable witness.”
Jesse shook his head. “He ain’t an upstanding citizen, but he was telling the truth. He doesn’t do kids.”
“But what if it was what I said earlier? A drug deal gone bad, and he snatches the kid for payback.”
“I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart. Even if he had snatched a kid, he’s not going to beat him to death. There is some honor among thugs.”
Ellie was so tired, she couldn’t think straight. Fragile X syndrome, Reggie Booker, and trash-filled alleys were beginning to run together. Her mind just couldn’t think any longer about the sicko that would beat a child and leave him for dead. She wanted to think simple thoughts with simple answers like what she was going to have for dinner or why Jesse always turned his chair around backwards like he was the sheriff in some old western movie. She propped her chin in her hand and stared at him. “Why do you turn your chair around backwards?”
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” The corner of his mouth turned upward in a slight smile.
She slowly nodded. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Self-defense. You can get out of it a whole lot easier, and faster.”
She considered it for a moment then sighed. “That almost makes sense. I just thought it was because you’re so cocky.”
“Well, that too.”
11
Ellie yanked off her clothes, pulled on an old Carolina Panthers sweatshirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants then collapsed on the bed. Time and energy had evaporated, leaving her feeling like the case should be measured in weeks rather than hours.
She slowly rose and slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks then padded into the kitchen. Dinner would be either leftover Moo Goo Gai Pan from China House or two slices of leftover pepperoni pizza from Paulie’s Pizza. Settling for a glass of tea, she headed to the living room. She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the chunky coffee table she bought at a yard sale last spring. It was light pine, heavy, with thick legs and time-worn corners, and matched absolutely nothing in her house, but she liked it so much, it was part of her fire escape plan. She imagined herself frantically dragging the thing through the house to the back porch—providing, of course, the fire was located in the front part of the house. If the fire was in the back, no problem; she’d just open the front door and shove the table and her one box of childhood memorabilia into the yard. A pair of initials encased in a rudely drawn heart was carved into one of the corners of the old table. Ellie sometimes sat at night and studied the carving, imagining who the lovers were. Were they still together? Were they still a couple or was their proclaimed undying love just a summer fling?
She looked over the phone messages Jack had given her earlier then glanced at her notepad she had transcribed from her voicemail. There must have been fifty numbers between the two, and that didn’t include the new messages she had yet to transcribe. She opened her cell phone and called the first number.
Teresa Batten answered on the first ring.
“This is Detective Saunders with the Burkesboro Police Department. I’m returning a call regarding a missing child.“
“Yeah, I saw the story on the news about that little boy.” She spit the words out as if they were flames rising up through her throat. “My son disappeared eight years ago. He had blond hair and—”
“How old was your son when he disappeared, Ms. Batten?”
“Six. His father took him. Said I was unfit.”
Ellie’s heart went out to the woman, but her son didn’t seem to be the only thing missing. The woman seemed to be lacking simple math skills as well. “Ms. Batten, I’m assuming your son would be about fourteen years old now, right?”
The woman didn’t answer immediately. Ellie imagined her mentally calculating the years. Parents of missing children often ignored time, holding a missing child in a perpetual age freeze. Ellie imagined Teresa Batten still thought of her son as a six-year-old. When she finally spoke again, Ellie could hear the resignation in her voice. “He’ll be fourteen his next birthday.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Batten. The child we found is much younger.” Before she hung up, Ellie told her she was sorry about her son and gave her the number to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.
The second call was parents whose daughter went missing a year ago. The third call was parents who said their son was abducted by aliens, and the aliens must have sent him back.
“A rowdy little fella,” the father said.
If she hadn’t been so tired, Ellie would have busted out laughing.
She had gotten through ten of the mes
sages when a loud knock at the door stopped her heart and caused her to spill her tea. “Crap,” she yelled as she jumped to her feet, the cold liquid seeping through her flannel pants. There was another knock, louder this time.
“Hold on just a second,” she yelled as she ran into the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel. She dabbed the wetness from her pants then wiped up the spill. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
She opened the door with a fake smile then wanted to slam it in Jesse Alvarez’s face. He pushed by her and dropped a pizza box and a two-liter soda on the coffee table. “Figured you’d need some help returning all those phone messages. I brought food.” He smiled. If he weren’t so annoying, he really would be a doll.
Ellie jammed her hands on her hips. “Don’t you have some sex offender to track down?”
He shrugged. “You got paper plates? Or napkins will work.”
Ellie shook her head then went into the kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels and two glasses of ice. She should just pile his pizza and soda back in his hands and head him out the door. But she was hungry and figured he owed her for barging in on her case.
When she came back into the living room, he was on the sofa rifling through the pink message slips with one hand while holding a slice of pizza with the other. Thin crust pepperoni and mushrooms—her favorite. How did he know that?
“You’ve got some duplicates.” He laid the messages back on the table and devoured half a slice of pizza in one bite.
“What?” She tore off two paper towels and handed him one then poured them each a glass of soda.
“Duplicates. Same person, same number. We should call them first.”
“I was calling in the order they came in. I figured the first callers were the ones most excited about seeing Johnny Doe on the news.” She sat on the floor at the coffee table, across from the wet spot, and took a piece of pizza.
“But if someone called more than once, they’re frantic for information. Let’s pull out the duplicates and check the times. Maybe some of these duplicates were the first callers.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him. Besides, it did sound reasonable.
“So what’s new with the kid?” Jesse asked. He took a long swig of his drink.
“Dr. Jenkins found some abnormalities in the tissue sample. But still nothing conclusive.” She picked a piece of pepperoni off her slice of pizza and popped it in her mouth, and then filled Jesse in on what Jenkins had told her.
“So the tissue samples could indicate hypothermia, and hypothermia could explain his resurrection—” he said.
“Don’t call it a resurrection.” She pointed her finger at him and glared with lowered brows.
Jesse laughed. “Why not?”
She sighed heavily. She didn’t know why not; it just didn’t seem proper. “I don’t know. Just don’t call it a resurrection.”
“Fine. The hypothermia could explain his coming back to life, then.”
“It could. And the fact he was found in an alley beside a fish market that uses refrigerated trucks makes it even more possible.” She angled her glass toward his and tapped the rims of the glasses together then smiled.
“You haven’t solved it yet, Sherlock.”
“Yeah, but at least we may have some of the medical questions answered.”
“What about the bruises and cuts that disappeared?”
Ellie stared at him for a hard minute then finished her pizza. “We’re still working on that. Dr. Deveraux’s convinced it’s a miracle.”
“And you’re not?” He started on his second piece of pizza.
She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know what to believe. I saw the bruises, Jesse. I have pictures of them. They were real.”
Jesse grinned. “You’re thinking too much like a seasoned detective, sweetcakes.”
She raised one brow while lowering the other. “I don’t know if I should be offended or take that as a compliment.”
“A little of both. Despite what most evidence will tell you, everything’s not black and white. Sometimes there’s just no logical explanation.”
Ellie burst out laughing. “Don’t tell me Jesse Alvarez is jumping on the miracle bandwagon, too.”
“I was raised Catholic. We’re big on miracles.” He winked then handed Ellie another slice of pizza.
When she finished, she tore off a couple sheets of paper from her notepad and handed them and a pen to Jesse. “If we get a hit, send them to the station to see Mike Allistar. They can identify him through the picture. I’m not having a whole line of people gawking at him through a hospital playroom.”
Jesse settled into the sofa and began calling. They had finished several calls each when the yellow glow of headlights swung across the living room.
“Oh, no. I forgot all about Dad and Aunt Sissy,” Ellie said as she pulled herself off the floor. She went to the front door and opened it, welcoming her new visitors. She’d never had so much company in her little house.
“Hey, Daddy, Aunt Sissy.” She kissed her aunt on the cheek.
“Hey, sweetie,” her dad said as he gave her a hug.
“I hope we’re not intruding,” Aunt Sissy said, casting a sideways glance at Jesse.
Ellie shook her head and laughed. “No. You’re not intruding at all.” She introduced everyone then offered something to drink. “I can heat some water for coffee, or I’ve got a fresh pitcher of iced tea.”
“Tea would be fine,” her dad and Sissy nodded in agreement.
“Why don’t you help me in the kitchen, Jesse.” Ellie hoped he understood it wasn’t a question.
In the kitchen, she took down two mismatched glasses from the cabinet and handed them to Jesse. “My dad used to be a preacher,” she whispered. “So watch your language and don’t mention anything about…us.”
“Us?” He raised his brows and watched her shake ice cubes from a plastic tray. “What us?”
She blew a heavy breath and glared at him. “You know what I’m talking about. That…night.”
It took him a moment but then his eyes widened. He nodded then smirked. “What are you afraid I’m going to say to him? ‘So, Ellie’s dad, I hooked up with your daughter, but I wish I never had, so I’m not really a bad dude. I just play one on TV?’”
She shushed him then glared in the direction of the living room. “Please. Just mind your manners, OK?” She filled the glasses with tea then took a deep breath and headed into the living room.
What did he mean by he wished he never had?
****
Ellie carried a pillow and set of sheets into the living room and dropped them on the sofa. Her dad was in the shower, Jesse was gone doing whatever Jesse did at night, and Aunt Sissy was in the spare bedroom getting ready for bed. Ellie returned to her bedroom and grabbed an extra quilt from the chest then carried it to the living room. She stuck her face deep into the floral patchwork and sucked in the sweet smell of cedar. Every now and then, she’d swear she could smell her mother’s perfume imbedded deep within the fabric.
Aunt Sissy was back in the living room tucking the fitted sheet around the cushions of the sofa. She was wearing a black tank top with the Harley Davidson emblem stretched across her chest and a pair of flannel lounging pants. “You’ve still got that old quilt? I’d figured the thing would have dry-rotted by now.”
Ellie smiled. “I drag it out every now and then. Aren’t you going to be cold? It gets a little drafty in here in the wee hours of the morning.”
“You’ve never had a hot flash, have you?”
Ellie laughed a tired laugh. “All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“So tell me about Jesse.”
“What?” Ellie’s mouth fell open.
“Don’t play all innocent.” Sissy smiled. She took the quilt and spread it across the sofa. “There’s some major chemistry going on between you two.”
Ellie plopped onto the sofa and propped her feet on the coffee table. Sissy sat beside her and stared at her,
waiting for an answer.
Ellie looked away and laughed. “Stop staring like that. I told you earlier, he’s helping me with the case.” She could still feel Sissy’s questioning gaze.
“Uh-huh. Guess it doesn’t hurt that he’s absolutely gorgeous, does it?”
“He’s gorgeous? I haven’t noticed.”
They chuckled like school girls. But why was it he never called back? And, why had he all of a sudden pushed his way back into her life? Maybe it was all about the case. “Jesse and I work together,” she said to Sissy. “That’s the extent of the relationship.”
Sissy gazed at her unbelievingly.
Ellie looked away, hiding from the knowing gaze.
12
Ellie parked in front of the fish market and walked through the alley around to the back loading dock. It was right at 9:00, and there was no sign of a Bekley’s delivery truck. As she ducked back into the alley to escape the wind, her cell phone rang. The caller ID showed her own desk extension.
“Good morning, Jesse.”
“Morning, sweetcakes. Tell me about Richie and Tina Chambers.”
Ellie stepped over fast food containers and broken beer bottles as she headed back to the warmth of her car. “Why? You got something on them?”
“Tina called this morning and wants to talk to you.”
Ellie stopped and drew in a deep breath. “He’s not their son, Jesse. They probably saw the news coverage and now they’re thinking they missed their chance to be on the cover of some tabloid.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“No, but it’s probably true. I’ll call her when I get back to the office,” she said and sighed. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Just returning these calls we didn’t get to last night. By the way, Aunt Sissy invited us up to the cabin for a weekend.”
“What?” Anger pushed the blood to her head, giving her an immediate headache. “First, she’s not your aunt so don’t call her Aunt Sissy, and second, there is no us, remember?”
The Rising Page 11
