Chapter Eight
“Hi, Ms. Carmody. I figured you’d somehow know we’d be visiting today. You seem to have a sixth sense where we’re concerned.” Lexi sighed at Frannie’s unnerving ability to anticipate her moves.
“I just talked with Charlie earlier. Her virtual armor is every bit as tough as the shell you’d woven.” Frannie knelt to take Hoover’s offered paw. “And good morning to you, too. Care to tell me how your mom got injured and perhaps is in need of medical care?”
“Um, nothing to worry about…But it was for a good cause.” Lexi pulled her jacket sleeve down to hide the gauze covering her palm.
“The fact you say it without making eye contact makes me worry.” Frannie sighed. “I spoke with a detective this morning who said they were stepping up Charlie’s security. They should be here within a half hour to talk to her again. You don’t have much time.”
The indirect inquisition was standard from one accustomed to taking in strays. It was only a matter of time before Frannie’s calm determination breached Charlie’s defenses, seeking out her strengths and helping her find a new path. It was just her way.
“Um, Charlie’s employer is on a rampage.”
“Great. Do you need a different place to stay?” Frannie stood, the expression on her face revealing so much more than her words.
Of the few people Lexi interacted with since leaving the streets, Frannie was the most welcome. “No, I’m safe. I just need to see Charlie for a second before heading home. I’ll go out the back.”
Employing the stairs lent two advantages. Not only did she benefit from the exercise, but it also allowed her to see anyone approach, unlike standing in an enclosed elevator.
On the third floor, all appeared quiet. As usual, she stopped at the window to view the newborns. The memory of the little girl whose father had protected her made her smile with the realization that close family units could exist and that not all people were evil. Redemption came on the strangest paths. Her faith in humanity restored, Lexi smiled when seeing only several babies present. It appeared the baby she sought had been discharged to a loving family.
Her pace hitched slightly at seeing the police officer beside Charlie’s door instead of the security guard who was previously there. His smile radiated no malice on her approach and gave no evidence of recognition or moving to retrieve cuffs, both good signs. Her prior night’s break-in must’ve remained safe from legal scrutiny. She desperately needed to update Charlie before the detectives arrived. After finding and turning over the evidence, maybe she could convince Charlie to testify.
“Hi, this patient wanted to see Hoover, my therapy dog, again.” Tentative steps closed the distance as the officer waved her in, his bored expression a welcome passport. The close proximity made her itch.
“Go ahead, you’re cleared. The hospital administrator said she’d asked you to visit again.”
Thank you, Frannie. She hadn’t realized she’d held on to the lungful of air until she was closing the door behind her. It seemed fear would be her unshakable shadow until Ethan caught up with his quarry.
“Hey.” Relief at seeing a friend who’d protected her in another age loosened anxiety’s grip on her shoulders. Charlie rested in bed, watching TV.
“Hey, Lexi. I didn’t know if I’d see you again. As much as I love you, you shouldn’t be here.”
The tearful reunion of hugs and summary of events proceeded in a rush of words, bound with hope and courage yet shaded with skepticism, fear, and grief. Charlie gasped and then stared, open-mouthed, after Lexi concluded explanations of her late-night exploits.
“Lexi, he’s gonna kill you for stealing from him!”
“Like he hadn’t already planned on it? As I said, the police have evidence now. The prick was keeping souvenirs from his victims. I recognized your necklace.”
“He’ll really go to jail?”
“I checked this morning. They have an ATL, Attempt to Locate, on his ass. They’ll find him if I have to track him down myself.”
“Everything really is going to change—for the better.” Something akin to amazement graced her face as a single tear trailed down her cheek.
“And you’ll have the cash to start over, anywhere you want.”
“I’ve dreamed of going to see my family in Virginia, driving a decent car, and going back to school.”
“And now you can.”
“As soon as the police connect the dots with DNA on my necklace, they’ll be back to see me. You need to steer clear of all us girls.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here now. Your share will be waiting for you, via Frannie, after you’re discharged. You can trust her.”
This time, instead of receiving a puppy and uncertainty, optimism and providing a cash settlement punctuated their farewells. “You can finally have a life, do anything you choose. We all can.” The possibilities lifted her spirits as she turned to leave. Sometimes, life did go her way.
When Lexi opened the door, the officer knelt to greet Hoover, who always loved attention. “I’ve never seen a blue-eyed shepherd—and what else is in the mix?”
Something about the officer’s expression, narrowed eyes and curled lower lip, presaged trouble. Since anxiety traveled faster than lightning down a leash, Hoover backed away from the cop, a combination of whine-growl deep in her throat.
“It’s alright, girl. I’m not a bad guy.” The officer’s gaze climbed Lexi’s frame to study her face. “Nice dog. What’s your name, ma’am?”
Last night, Lexi had left blood and a blanket behind at the thug’s home. With all the commotion, she hadn’t had time to screw with the digital records and hence cause the destruction of any DNA evidence. Though they wouldn’t have test results back yet, they could’ve found both her and Hoover’s prints leaving the scene. Hacking the records to switch test results would be easy. Wiping Ethan’s mind and his determination to get to the bottom of the nightmare, not so much.
Did Frannie give them my name? Would she do that?
Without another word, Lexi bolted for the back stairway with Hoover by her side. The officer wouldn’t pursue and leave Charlie unprotected, but even she couldn’t outrun a radio.
Shit.
Down the exit stairs she flew, two and three steps at a time, then jumping the last five of each flight. A deep and terrifying suspicion yawned in her mind, tightening the figurative noose around her throat. Until last night, her under the table activities had involved light hacking. If they tied her to this mess in any way, they’d take her laptop and discover the string of helpful hints she’d given to the police and the extent of what she could hack.
Hoover’s nails clicked on each tread, echoing Lexi’s heart rate as fear rippled down her back. When the exit sign came into view, she stumbled and landed in a heap against the door. Pushing to her feet, she gasped at the pain shooting through her right ankle. Hoover whined.
Fuck me sideways.
Limping through the emergency exit portrayed the least of her sins as fresh air dried the cold sweat breaking out on her nape. The snick of the door latching behind her sealed her fate in moving ahead. Forward, always forward.
The moderate-sized lot she entered contained dozens of employees’ cars, some shaded by oaks bordering the property. Thick woods beyond would obscure her presence while Hoover escorted her home.
“Let’s go, girl. We need to move it.” Past the back edge of the asphalt, trampled grass denoted several paths to the woods made by employees taking smoke breaks. She’d traveled this way several times to allow for different exits if necessary. Some habits were hard to break.
At the last row of cars, Hoover suddenly stood stiffly with hackles raised and tail up.
“What’s up?” She hadn’t seen or heard anything to cause alarm.
“About time you came out, bitch. I’ve been waiting here all morning. Knew you’d go see your whore friend.” Filtered light through quivering oak leaves glimmered off the blade in Otis’ hand. Mere feet separated he
r from the bedlamite who loved cutting women to shreds.
Risking a glance over her shoulder, at least fifty yards stretched between them and the building. A locked door denied sanctuary.
Hoover barked and lunged to the end of her leash.
“I’ve never cut a dog before. Guess there’s a first time for everything. I tell you what. I’m a generous man, and I’ll make the same offer as before. Give me back what you stole, and I’ll make your death quick and painless.” He stepped forward in a show of fearless bravado, the crazed gleam in his eyes reminiscent of what she’d seen in the alley and by Charlie’s bed.
“Hoover, no. Sit.” Following her command didn’t stop the canine from straining for freedom while matching the killer’s anger in deep, rumbled warnings.
Standing up to the bastard now would not end well, even if he hadn’t wielded a knife. Her injured ankle negated the possibility of outrunning his wrath.
Hoover’s next lunge ripped the leash from her grip. Brief satisfaction filled her as the dog clamped down on Otis’ wrist. The bastard’s roar coincided with him dropping the knife as he instinctively yanked his hand back. Torn flesh and a small crimson stream proved a momentary distraction as he used his other hand to apply pressure.
“Hey! What’s going on?” The deep intonation from behind signaled the arrival of more trouble. At the other end of the lot and rushing through the aisles of cars, Ethan and his redneck partner each drew their weapons as a spark of recognition lit their faces. “Both of you—halt.”
“Hoover, come on, girl. Leave him.” Lexi snatched up the leather strap to force the dog’s compliance. With her attacker momentarily undecided, she kicked his knife under the car, further confounding him. Her action prevented him from stabbing her but also divided his options. He could flee and hope the cops didn’t get his knife or take precious time to retrieve it. Did he use it to stab Charlie?
“Police. Stop, Otis. You’re under arrest.” Ethan glanced from the killer to her and then back, his expression hardening. His partner branched out sideways in his forward move as if to narrow her route of escape.
A split second of indecision crossed her attacker’s face before he bolted toward the woods in the direction of the city. “I’ll deal with you later, whore.”
“Fuck you.” Pain filled her hobble-step run. Her sanctuary lay toward the east, twenty yards before sliding through wooded cover.
At the head of the deer trail leading through thick underbrush, Lexi turned and shouted to Ethan. “His knife is under the car.” Divulging the information ensured Ethan’s partner wouldn’t chase her since they couldn’t leave evidence unattended. Gritted teeth and a fierce glare denoted his frustration.
She grinned.
“Home, girl. Take us home.” Adrenaline diluted pain and furnished speed while briars tore at her clothes, hands, and face. The convoluted path they’d take, through woods and sloshing down the middle of a stream, would ensure no one could track them.
Epilogue
Never had such satisfaction consumed her spirit. With the cash distributed and her old friends safe, perhaps a small vacation was in order, not that she’d go anywhere. A half-gallon of chunky chocolate chip and Hoover enjoying her homemade treats would give them hours of relaxed downtime on their comfortable sofa.
Cyber-snooping through police records had revealed the reports from her break-in filed under the date and labeled Jane Doe. They did in fact get DNA samples, which were mysteriously mislabeled and destroyed due to a computer glitch. They’d also connected Otis to a string of murders with the evidence from the box she’d left on Ethan’s stoop.
Each of the prostitutes had stepped forward after learning of their employer’s arrest and corroborated the details listed in the ledger bearing his prints in exchange for no prosecution. With the malware she’d installed on the murderer’s computer, Lexi directed Detective McAllister to its location and discovery of the pimp’s snuff films.
Despite her innate mistrust of all things police, she found herself data surfing to learn more about the man whom she’d evaded on a sunny morning. In her mind’s eye, the frustrated look he’d flashed her as she disappeared into the woods spoke volumes, a picture-worthy moment she’d love to hang on her wall. He’d search for her, and he wasn’t the type to give up. She could erase any digital evidence found, but his memory was another matter. Looks like I’ll be laying low for a while.
“Good luck with your search, buddy.” The thought of sending a well-meaning joke, a beautiful bouquet of flowers to his workplace as a thank you would surely provide a constant source of ribbing from his cohorts and frustrate him for months to come when he couldn’t trace its origin back to her. Perhaps she’d include a pair of fur-lined handcuffs for good measure. In her mind’s eye, she curled her tongue around the sharp censure for baiting a cop; the girls would surely berate her efforts. Yet a deep well of humor and appreciation of life found its outlet in innocent pranks. Reality might bite her in the ass eventually, but messing with him just a little was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
At the end of the day, her mind would review, edit, and censure the scenes of her adventure, conjuring and deleting those that didn’t coincide with her current perspective in continuing her idyllic life. She’d risked everything for the women who long ago had seen something special in a young runaway, nurturing and sheltering her from their harsh reality. Her studying and hard work had finally paid off. Now they were free to live their lives on their own terms.
Hoover rubbed her head against Lexi’s chest. Everything they needed was at her fingertips.
The End
Enter the raffle on Reily’s blog after each new release for a chance to win a gift card or other prizes. Thank you for reading Tender Echoes. I hope you’ve enjoyed Ethan and Lexi’s journey. If you have a minute to rate the book at your favorite retailer, I would greatly appreciate it.
Visit Reily’s website or sign up for Reily’s newsletter for news on the continuation of the series with blurbs, contests, and other exclusives. Visit Reily on Facebook or twitter.
I love hearing from readers! Email me at [email protected]
Visit my website or find me on Facebook.
About Reily
Reily is a West Coast girl transplanted to the opposite shore. When she’s not working with her dogs, you can find her curled up with a book or writing her next story. Past employment as an ICU nurse, private investigator, and work in the military police has given her countless experiences in a host of different environments to add a real world feel to her fiction.
Over time, and several careers, many incidents have flavored the plots of her stories. Man’s cruelty and ingenuity for torment and torture is boundless, not contained by an infinite imagination. Witnessing the after-effects of a teenager mugged at knifepoint for a pair of tennis shoes, or an elderly woman repeatedly stabbed with a screwdriver for no apparent reason, left an indelible impression that will forever haunt her subconscious. In counterpoint, she’s observed a woman stop her vehicle in severe, snowy weather to offer her own winter coat to a stranger, a teenager wearing a threadbare hoodie. Life’s diversities are endless.
Though her kids are her life, writing is Reily’s life after. The one enjoyed after the kids are in bed or after they’re in school and the house is quiet. This is the time she kicks back with laptop and lapdog to give her imagination free rein.
In reading, take pleasure in a mental pause as you root for your favorite hero/heroine and bask in their accomplishments, then share your opinions of them over coffee with your best friend (even if he’s four-legged). Life is short. Cherish your time.
McAllister Justice Series
Digital Velocity
I move frequently—but gain no distance.
I am warm, moist, and dark but give no comfort.
I can stretch and shrink, giving or taking at will, bringing both pain and pleasure with each.
“If God wanted you to tie the knot, he’d give you a near
-death experience to better appreciate life, along with a craving for procreation. Then he’d smother your soul with essence of venison, squirrel, frog legs, taters, and beer, to attract a likely counterpart from the sticks. No, wait—the latter has already happened, hasn’t it? Sorry.” Ethan narrowly kept his balance on the green-slicked, handmade bricks leading up the two-story, mauve-colored Victorian. If his 230-pound mass ended up sprawled on the steps, no doubt the picture would be splashed all over the precinct by noon with various unsavory captions.
“Maybe you should try it. The stick up your ass has to cause at least minor discomfort.” Larrick’s early-morning snark was a common greeting.
“Hey, I’m a normal guy.” Ethan glared over his shoulder.
Larrick snorted.
“Still wet from our early-morning storm. Watch your step, it’s slippery.” Scanning the myriad amorphous shadows lurking in the wood line, realization struck that he and his partner were sitting ducks if a sniper perched among the loblolly pine and oak trees lining the front and side yards.
Larrick’s reply came with equal measure of soft tones. “Either that or a large flock of birds dropped in recently to help her redecorate. Great detective work.”
“Bird droppings are—”
“Are sought after for facials. Especially the Japanese Nightingale shit.”
“Only you would know that.” Ethan adjusted his tie, an acknowledgment of the apprehension filling his mind.
“Are we whispering because your paranoid gut can’t assimilate food well enough to distinguish indigestion from an outside threat? This woman lives alone, gonna think we’re a couple of perverts and be liable to shoot us.”
“Word has it she’s a pacifist.”
“Fine. You’re one to talk about signs—dragging my ass to a stranger’s house at this ungodly morning hour to knock on the door and ask, ‘Lady, are you all right? We’re police detectives who received an anonymous tip that you might have a hangnail. Perhaps we could lend you a pair of nail clippers?’” Derision and humor warred for dominance in Larrick’s tone, yet his sharp gaze continually scanned the perimeter in consideration of his partner’s unarticulated hunch. Yin and yang, they fit together, a clean-cut detective and his partner whose hair length had passed regulation specs weeks ago.
“You know this isn’t the first tip we’ve gotten, not to mention the fact that the other leads were solid and led to arrests. And while we’re at it, why don’t you step to the side? Standard police procedure when approaching an unknown situation.” Ethan turned sideways, standing by the door with his hand poised to knock on the solid oak. He hesitated. Moisture coated his palms, a rare occurrence. Scrutinizing the interior through the door’s narrow sidelights yielded nothing more than expected. Elegantly upholstered furniture, gleaming hardwood floors, and delicate bric-a-brac adorning the thick mantle and each side table completed the sophisticated picture. “Don’t see any problem. Maybe she’s fallen and can’t get to a phone.”
“You expected an old lady brandishing her curling iron? And as for leads, I get mine from three-dimensional people, while you get yours from a bunch of ones and zeroes. Why can’t our IT department trace your anonymous texts further than the loony bin? Though that’s probably appropriate, since your secret admirer’s last present consisted of a flower basket bigger than my TV, along with fur-lined cuffs. I’ve never laughed so hard I pissed myself. I thought that was just hogwash.” Larrick leaned over the iron railing to peer through the window. “Can’t see squat, bottom sill’s too high.”
“As my partner, you’re supposed to have my back, not stab me in the back. You didn’t have to broadcast it through the whole department by hanging the cuffs from the sprinkler system with a bunch of roses twined in them. Now my brothers won’t let up, and I’ve been subscribed to every kinky magazine known to the publishing world. You think I should know why some whacko chose me for their personal marionette?” Ethan suppressed a shudder before his partner gained more verbal ammunition. If his suspicions were correct, his informant was, in fact, a beautiful enigma with waist-length, chestnut hair and an emerald gaze that could melt steel.
“Maybe because you were the youngest to make detective? Rising star, golden boy, and all that shit.”
“No. Probably afraid your redneck ways would rub off on them, or maybe because I’m the biggest sap.” Ethan’s gut rumbled, more of a warning sign from a well-heeled intuition than hunger. “Larrick, this doesn’t feel right.” Behind him, the slide of metal on leather let him know his partner had just palmed his Glock. Three years of working together circumvented the formality of dissecting gut reactions.
A creak of leather sole betrayed Larrick’s backtracking to scrutinize the surroundings. “Side windows are lower. I’ll take a look.”
“Hood of her BMW is cold. Didn’t go anywhere recently.” Larrick’s harsh whisper halted a nearby squirrel scampering up a tree, its head cocked to one side while studying the strange human interlopers.
Sunshine warmed the first spring buds on the low shrubbery bordering the walkway to complete the idyllic setting. Nothing but peace and serenity, yet Ethan’s heart hammered against his ribcage like an aggressive punk drummer. With his partner disappearing around the corner, he again scanned the perimeter while the morning’s corrupted equanimity formed a sour wad in his chest. A lazy March breeze combed its cool fingers through his short hair, while the deep foreboding received with the initial text message blossomed into multiple horrific scenarios, leaving one of them a corpse, their life’s essence forming macabre shapes on gleaming hardwood floors.
“I see bare feet beyond the kitchen island. Toes up. Probably female.” His partner’s disembodied whisper just provided probable cause.
Tender Echoes Page 9
