Dani’s eyes, one blue and one brown, twinkled merrily. ‘I suspect some of us might appreciate it more than others.’
Kate opened her mouth to deny it, but couldn’t make the words come out. It would have been a lie anyway. She shouldered her laptop case and her yarn bag. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Thursday 13 August, 2.45 P.M.
He had to laugh when the nurse drove up. He’d gotten there first because the coordinates he’d given her required that she travel down the same isolated road that Roy had used earlier. That route allowed him to see her as she approached, just to make sure she hadn’t brought anyone with her.
He’d wanted Roy to see him there, so he’d been waiting out in the open. He didn’t, however, want Eileen to see him, so he’d come from another direction and parked out of sight.
She’d come alone, unless she had someone hiding in her trunk, which he sincerely doubted. But she was clearly expecting an ambush. She got out of her car, a tactical helmet on her head and her torso covered in a bulletproof vest with SWAT printed on the back in faded ink. The vest was old, wherever she’d gotten it. But at least she wasn’t completely stupid. Which would make his task a bit more of a challenge.
He found himself smiling. He hadn’t had a good challenge in a long time.
He reached for the rifle under his seat and got out of his car, careful to step lightly. Eileen was looking around as if expecting him to pop out from behind a tree. Not likely. He didn’t plan to let her see him until it was far too late for her to do anything about it.
He holstered his handgun and shouldered the rifle. She’d have to bend down when she retrieved the vials and wouldn’t be looking around. That was when he’d fire the first shot.
He waited until she’d approached Roy’s car and gingerly reached through the open window. She wore latex gloves so as not to leave prints, but was still careful not to touch anything but Roy’s shirt. Very smart.
He aimed at the bare skin of her arm and gently squeezed the trigger.
Her scream reached his ears as she spun around to face his direction, her arm drawn tight against her body. He centered his sight on the hollow of her throat and pulled the trigger again before she’d finished her spin.
Yes. Blood spurted from her throat and her eyes darted around frantically for a second before going still and lifeless.
He lowered his rifle and sighed a little. As challenges went, he’d give this one a six out of ten. Mostly because she had a scrawny neck and hitting it just right while she was still moving hadn’t been a no-brainer. Still, two shots – pop pop – and he was done.
He picked up his spent casings, then walked up to Roy’s muscle car, took the empty Dilaudid vials from Roy’s shirt pocket and slipped them in the pocket of the dead nurse’s bulletproof vest. He then took the cell phone from her pants pocket – another phone requiring a fingerprint ID. Carefully he peeled off her glove and pressed the pad of her index finger against the screen.
Presto. He checked to be sure she hadn’t contacted anyone by text, email or direct call since they’d spoken. She had not. Good enough. He reset the phone, popped out the SIM card, then took it all back to his car. He wiped the phone of prints and did a factory reset before driving away from the scene. He’d passed a construction site on the way into the park and stopped there on his way out. The site itself was deserted, but they did have a Porta-Potty. Eileen’s phone went down the toilet.
The SIM card he’d hold until he got back to the city, where he’d dispose of it down a storm sewer, as he had Sidney Siler’s. He checked his watch. He was running a little late.
He had appointments this afternoon, but he should be able to get there on time. And by the time he finished for the day, the Rawlings kid would be hanging with the teens at their favorite haunt, a basketball court in the park behind the CVS drugstore.
Kids today have way too much time on their hands, he thought, then laughed out loud, only mildly horrified to realize that was something his old man would have said.
His old man had never beaten them. He’d always provided food and shelter. Had never done drugs or slept around.
He’d been an academic. A thinking man. He never needed to use his fists. Why sweat when you can flay a kid’s confidence with a single spoken word? A gesture, even. He’d been an asshole of the first water, a greedy bastard who doled out financial – and emotional – support on his own terms. Which never coincided with mine. But Pop’s assholery had pushed him to get creative about making money, and voilà. A drug empire was born.
He only wished his father could see him now. The videos? His father would shit kittens. Which made it that much more fun.
His stomach growled then, reminding him he hadn’t had lunch. He speed-dialed his sister. ‘Nell, it’s me.’
‘I was just about to call you. Your three-thirty appointment is here. Gina Fuentes.’
‘She’s early,’ he said, annoyed.
Nell heaved her big-sister sigh. ‘And you’re late?’
‘Just a little. I was calling to ask you to have a sandwich delivered. Will you?’
‘Sure,’ she said, always eager to ensure he ate well. ‘Turkey and Swiss on rye?’
‘With one of the potato pancakes.’
‘Remy, those things’ll kill you! They’re pure fat.’
She was the only one he allowed to call him Remy. Anyone else who tried would regret it. But Nell had been his mother after their actual mother decided downing a bottleful of pills was far preferable to living with their father, so he let her have this one thing. He turned on his baby-brother charm. ‘Please? Potato pancakes taste so good. And can you stall my early three thirty?’
‘I’ll try. She said she has a job interview at four on campus and has to be out the door by quarter to, which is why she came early.’
‘I might make it back in time. Depends on what she’s in for.’
‘MMR and MCV4. She’s an incoming freshman.’
He stepped on the gas pedal, careful not to exceed the speed limit. Not with a recently fired rifle under his seat and an unregistered handgun in his pocket.
‘That shouldn’t be a problem. And if I’m really late, you can take care of it without me.’ His sister carried most of his load and they both liked it that way.
‘I already offered that,’ Nell said tightly. ‘Miss Fuentes doesn’t want a PA. She’s insisting on a real doctor.’
He eased off the gas, slowing to ten miles below the limit. Miss Fuentes had insulted his sister and that simply would not do. ‘Then I guess she’ll have to wait for me.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Thursday 13 August, 3.00 P.M.
Meredith blew her hair off her forehead. She was sticky and sweaty and feeling damn nasty from the heat – and it had all been for nothing. ‘They’re not going to talk to us, are they?’
Wendi Cullen took a pack of wet wipes from her purse and offered Meredith one before swabbing the back of her own neck. ‘Nope.’
They stood on a street corner that, by the time the sun set, would become hooker central. For now, they were surrounded by humanity, people streaming all around them, going about their lives. But the two of them were very much alone. No one made eye contact, giving them a wide berth.
It had been like that for most of the day, ever since it became known that they were searching for anyone who might have information on a . . . well, basically a porn king.
It gave Meredith renewed respect for what her friend did every single day. Meredith’s clients came to her office, referred either by the police, Children’s Services, or other satisfied clients. Wendi walked this beat several times a week and usually at night, the women she sought needing a direct invitation to avail themselves of the help she provided.
‘You told me they wouldn’t talk to me
,’ Meredith said with a sigh.
Wendi gave her arm a squeeze. ‘I also remember saying that we needed to try. We haven’t done any harm here, Mer. Word will get out and we might get some nibbles or some whispers in the next few days. You can’t rush these things.’
‘I know. The team feels an urgency now, though. Who knows when another case will pop up and divert their attention?’
‘I do get it – striking while the iron’s hot – but if you push now, you’re just gonna get brittle metal.’ Wendi’s brow wrinkled. ‘That’s a thing, right? Brittle metal, from rushing . . . whatever metal makers do?’
Meredith chuckled. ‘I think they’re called blacksmiths. Got no clue about the brittle thing, but given that it’s a hundred and fifty degrees out here and I’m melting, I’m willing to say “Sure.”’
‘It’s only a hundred and two. Where’s your sense of adventure?’
‘It melted,’ Meredith said dourly. ‘Let’s call it a day. We’ve passed out all the business cards both of us brought and drunk all the water you hauled around in your purse.’ She gave Wendi’s huge purse a hopeful look. ‘Unless you can magically make it produce another bottle or two.’ The purse held a surprising amount of stuff, all of which they’d needed that afternoon.
‘Nope.’ Wendi grinned. ‘Mary Poppins’s bag is hot and tired too. Let’s go to my car and I’ll drive you to yours.’ Because Wendi had simply laughed at the idea of Meredith parking her cute convertible in the neighborhood. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I get a nibble.’
‘Okay. Thank you, Wendi,’ Meredith said as they started for Wendi’s ancient Dodge. ‘I know you had other things to do today.’
‘Yeah, but they’ll keep. This . . . Mer, this is important. You can get the women – and men – off the street, but it’s like that big snake thing. You cut off a head and two more pop up. Unless we get the perps making the porn and profiting from the prostitution, there are always more women and men to take their place.’
‘And kids,’ Meredith added, swallowing hard.
‘And kids,’ Wendi echoed.
They walked a block in silence, then Meredith said, ‘Hydra. That’s the snake thing.’
‘Hm. Some days I wish I’d gone to college,’ Wendi said lightly.
Meredith laughed. ‘You did.’
Wendi’s smile faltered. ‘Not exactly. I mean, I took the classes I needed to get certified to open my shelter. But I really wanted to study other things. Before.’
Meredith sobered. Wendi had been assaulted and victimized when she was only fourteen, her abuse filmed and shared online. Her life had been irrevocably changed. ‘What did you want to study before?’
‘English. I used to love English – the stories. The grammar not so much. But the stories . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Remembering the stories I’d read my whole life was what got me through all those bad years. I’d play the story in my mind like a movie and hide there. So I wasn’t really there during the abuse. When I finally got out of the life, it seemed like a frivolous thing to study. I needed to make a living. Pay the bills. And then I started the shelter and, well, there was no time then.’
‘They stole your dreams,’ Meredith said sadly.
‘Yes. Yes, they did. That’s something nobody wants to talk about. Yes, the victims are abused, and yes, there is therapy after for the ones who manage to dig their way out.’
‘Or who are lucky enough to have a lifeline extended to them by people like you.’
Wendi smiled. ‘That too. But what’s taken . . . it can never be replaced. Lost years. Lost innocence. Lost self-esteem. And lost dreams.’
Meredith had to blink back tears. ‘We have to find you a new house. We can’t let your program die, Wendi. I’ll give you my own house before I let that happen.’
Wendi patted her arm. ‘You’ve offered before and I told you already – thank you, but your house is way too teeny. It might do as a stopgap, but my girls need stability. They need to know they have a place to lay their head at night that’s safe. I can’t be bopping them from house to house, sleeping on floors because we don’t have enough beds.’
They got to Wendi’s car and she let them in. ‘What about Faith?’ Wendi asked. ‘I didn’t want to gush too much this morning when she said she might have an idea, but I’ve honestly thought of nothing else since she said it.’
‘If she said it, it’s more a done deal than not. Faith wouldn’t let someone down on purpose and she’s very conservative about what she promises.’ Meredith hesitated. ‘I think I know the house she’s talking about, and you’re going to have some decision-making to do.’
Wendi started the engine, sighing happily when cool air came out of the vents. ‘What kind of decisions?’
‘You know that Faith came here because she was running from a stalker in Miami, right?’
‘Yes. They caught the guy who was after her.’ Wendi shuddered. ‘And found a bunch of bodies in that creepy old . . .’ Her eyes widened. ‘That’s the house?’
‘I think so.’
‘But . . . but people . . . people died in that house, Meredith. Women. Victims.’
‘I know.’ A lot of women, all innocent of any crime. All dead because they’d satisfied a serial killer’s profile. ‘But it’s a big house, Wendi. And sturdy. And out of the way on a pretty plot of land – at least twenty acres.’
‘That’s a lot of land. Enough for gardens and animals.’
Meredith nodded, glad that Wendi could at least see some benefit to the plan. ‘Faith had fifty acres, but she had to sell some of it to cover the taxes. She told me a while back that she’s got enough to pay the taxes and maintenance on that old place for at least ten years. She was trying to figure out what to do with it.’
‘She wants me to move there? With my victims of sex abuse? Really, Mer?’
Meredith caught her gaze and held it firmly. Soberly. ‘Really, Wendi. And if you think about it, really think about it, what better way to honor all those victims than to use the place they died to give hope to a whole new generation of women?’
Wendi’s mouth fell open and Meredith reached a teasing finger under her chin to close it. ‘You’re letting all the bugs in,’ she said with a gentle smile.
Wendi blinked, stunned. ‘She’d just . . . give it away?’
‘Or lease it to a foundation,’ Meredith said. ‘She’s told me that she’s considered it. Not for your girls specifically, but for someone. She said that she hated for a house that had endured so much for so many years to stand idle and empty. That it deserved to shelter survivors.’
Wendi drew a deep breath. ‘My God, Meredith. I don’t even know what to think.’
‘Well, she hasn’t offered it yet. She may not. But I think that’s the most likely scenario here. I’ve known Faith for nine months now. She’s a good person, Wendi. If she does offer and you choose to decline, do it kindly. Don’t hurt her.’
‘I won’t. I . . . I won’t.’ Still rattled, Wendi pulled away from the curb. ‘I’ll take you back to your car. You have time to get home and cleaned up before Kendra shows up on your doorstep for free therapy.’
Meredith pursed her lips, neither confirming or denying. Even though Wendi and Kendra were sisters, any communication between Meredith and Kendra was confidential. She took confidentiality very seriously.
Wendi’s lips twitched. ‘I’m not fishing for information. I told her to ask you for help, y’doofus.’ She sobered with a sigh. ‘She’s been so intense lately. She’s starting to scare herself, which is scaring the hell out of me.’
‘You know what she needs to tell me then?’
‘Yes.’ Wendi slanted her a look. ‘Confidentiality is important to me, too.’
Meredith had to laugh. ‘Touché. I know it is. I couldn’t respect you if it weren’t. And speaking of respect, I need to call
SAC Zimmerman and tell him that I’m alive and that he can call off his growly bear.’ Zimmerman had assigned her a guard – a bulky, angry-faced man named Agent Colby, who looked like he ate nails for breakfast.
She and Wendi hadn’t even been able to get anyone to take their business cards with him as their shadow. So she’d told Zimmerman to yank him back. After that, Agent Colby had trailed them by a full half-block, which had annoyed both him and Zimmerman, prompting Meredith to agree to call both men every thirty minutes to let them know that she was still alive.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Wendi said. ‘I think Agent Growly Bear is kind of cute. There he is.’ She gave the man a finger wave, slowing when he gestured her to park behind his car. She complied, rolling her window as far down as it would go – which was only four inches.
‘We’re done, Agent Colby,’ Meredith said. ‘Wendi’s going to drive me to my car now.’
He bent over so that his face was level with the window gap. He was most assuredly not cute, Meredith thought. He had a hard look that made him appear years older than he probably was. ‘Can you roll your window down the rest of the way?’ he demanded, exasperated.
‘Sorry,’ Wendi said. ‘It only goes down that far. It’s a junker, but it runs and it’s paid for.’
He frowned at that. ‘That’s a safety hazard, ma’am.’
Wendi shrugged. ‘Runs and paid for.’
‘I’ll follow you out. Did you find anyone that knew about our suspect?’
‘No,’ Meredith admitted. ‘They wouldn’t talk to us whether you were there or not.’
‘But they at least took our cards once you fell back, so it’s okay,’ Wendi said firmly. ‘Are we doing this tomorrow?’
‘I’ll find out,’ Meredith said. ‘Thank you for watching over us, Agent Colby.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t think you needed any watching over, Dr Fallon. This one here is armed to the damned teeth.’
Wendi smiled sunnily. Her huge purse held pepper spray, a can of mace, and a fully operational Taser. She carried a switchblade on her belt that was probably illegal, but Colby had not said a word. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘That’s a nice compliment.’