‘Detective Bishop. Dr Dani said you wanted to talk to us.’
‘Miss Scarlett,’ Tommy drawled. ‘I knew you’d finally come to your senses. Where you taking me for our honeymoon? Better make it the mountains. Cooler this time of year.’
Scarlett went down on her haunches so that they didn’t have to look up at her. ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to put that honeymoon on ice, Tommy. You remember early, early yesterday when I saw you?’
Edna nodded. ‘You ran off to that alley where the girl was shot.’
‘I came back later to talk to you, but you were gone.’
Edna grimaced. ‘Too many cops and flashing lights. Tommy and I took our stuff and found a quieter stoop.’ She glanced up. ‘Who’s he?’
‘His name is Marcus. He’s the man I was meeting. He was there to help the girl because she was being hurt by the people she lived with. Somebody shot and killed her to keep her from asking Marcus for help. Did you see anything else? Like maybe someone running away?’
‘Lots o’ people were running away,’ Tommy said. ‘They hear shots and they scatter, cuz the cops’ll think they did it and shoot ’em.’ He shrugged. ‘Mebbe they did. Don’t seem to matter to the cops who they shoot.’ He lifted one grizzled gray brow. ‘No offense, Miss Scarlett. You’re not like them. Is he?’
‘Marcus? He’s not a cop. He’s a reporter.’
Tommy visibly relaxed. ‘That’s good. Hate to think you’d leave me at the altar for a cop. I saw you kissin’ that man.’
Scarlett smiled at him. ‘You little sneak. You weren’t asleep at all.’
Tommy didn’t smile back. ‘I sleep with my eyes open, Miss Scarlett,’ he said soberly.
‘Cops’ll sometimes give us a hard time,’ Edna said, ‘for sleepin’ on our stoop. They shake us awake, yell at us.’ She dropped her voice, mimicking a cop’s command. ‘“Move along, move along. Can’t sleep here.”’ She shook her head ruefully. ‘We’ve been sleeping on that stoop for years. I don’t know why they care. Nobody else is using it.’
Their neighborhood had been the epicenter of racial violence more than a decade before. While things had dramatically improved in the years that followed, many residents still feared and mistrusted the police.
‘I’m sorry,’ Scarlett said simply. She knew better than to tell them that most of the cops who made them move along were trying to keep them safe. ‘Did you see anyone running away who looked like they didn’t belong? Someone you didn’t know from the neighborhood?’
Edna hesitated. ‘I don’t want no trouble.’ Scarlett waited patiently until Edna sighed, long and heavy. ‘Fine,’ the old woman said. ‘I saw him.’ She pointed up at Marcus. ‘He was running.’
‘I know he was there,’ Scarlett said mildly. ‘One of those shots you heard was fired into his back. Luckily he was wearing a Kevlar vest or he wouldn’t be here with me now.’
Edna gave Marcus a thorough looking-over. ‘Would be a shame to waste a man like that,’ she agreed. ‘There was one other. White boy. Blond hair. Ran fast. Cleared an overturned garbage can like one of those guys in the Olympics.’
‘You mean like he was running hurdles?’ Scarlett asked. The Detroit guys had sent them the background check on Drake. The punk had run track while in high school, so running hurdles fit. ‘Did you see his face?’
‘Yes,’ Edna said. ‘He ran right past me.’
‘I was too busy lookin’ at his gun,’ Tommy drawled. ‘Kid wavin’ it around like some stupid gangbanger.’
Scarlett sighed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday morning?’
‘You didn’t—’
Scarlett waved her hand. ‘I know. I didn’t ask.’
‘No,’ Tommy said. ‘I was gonna say that you didn’t stick around long enough for me to tell you. You were running toward that alley as fast as he done run away.’
‘Oh,’ Scarlett said, feeling very foolish. ‘Do you think you could pick him out of a lineup?’
Tommy wagged his head side to side. ‘All them white boys look the same to me.’
‘We’re not going into any police station, Detective,’ Edna said, folding her arms over her chest. ‘Not gonna happen.’
‘That’s okay. I have a few photos for you to look at.’ Holding her phone so that they could see, she flicked through the photos Isenberg’s clerk had provided for the array. She’d cajole Edna into the station for a formal identification later if she needed to.
‘That’s him,’ Edna said, identifying Drake on the second pass. ‘The third one.’
Yes. We got you, you little fucker. Scarlett kept her expression impassive even as she fiercely fist-pumped the sky on the inside. ‘Where did he run after he passed you?’
‘To the end of the street. Got into a fancy car. Passenger side.’
‘A Mercedes,’ Tommy added with gusto. ‘Silver. Shone under the street lights. Took off, burnin’ rubber.’
Excellent, Scarlett thought. A silver Mercedes had been registered to Stephanie Anders. She quickly typed a text to Vince Tanaka: Check silver Merc taken from Anders garage for evidence that Drake Connor and Tala Bautista rode in it.
‘Did you see who was driving?’ she asked.
‘A girl,’ Tommy said.
‘Figures you’d notice the girl,’ Edna grumbled.
‘Like you noticed that boy?’ Tommy shot back. ‘Just cuz there’s snow on the roof don’t mean the fire’s dead.’ He licked his lips lasciviously.
‘Oh, that fire’s dead,’ Edna said, annoyed. ‘Wasn’t more than stick kindlin’ anyway.’
‘Thank you for that visual,’ Scarlett said sarcastically. ‘What did she look like?’
‘Pretty,’ Tommy said. ‘Though not nearly as pretty as you.’
‘Good to know,’ Scarlett said. ‘Details? Hair color? Skin color?’
‘Blond hair. White skin. Sparkly earrings. Red fingernails. Long, like claws. She held the steering wheel like this.’ He positioned his hands with the thumb tucked under and his four fingers sticking straight out. ‘That’s all I know.’
‘That’s a lot. Thank you both.’
Edna frowned, troubled. ‘Is he gonna come after us? The boy?’
‘No. He’s in custody two hundred and fifty miles from here.’
‘Good.’ Edna nodded hard.
‘I agree. Now, you two stay cool, okay? It’s hot out there.’
Tommy pointed at Marcus. ‘Does he talk?’
Scarlett laughed. ‘Yes, he does. Why?’
‘Tell him to stay here. You run along, Miss Scarlett. I want to talk to him. Alone.’
Scarlett glanced at Marcus with a shrug, then came to her feet and walked to the door, where she texted Isenberg and Deacon with a progress report while watching Tommy, Edna and Marcus from the corner of her eye.
Positive ID for Drake Connor leaving Tala Bautista crime scene yesterday A.M. DC seen with a firearm, getting into silver Merc. Have files from Woody McCord investigation to review. Possible that McCord planned to name his supplier. Product = people/children. Likely for porn. McCord died in jail next day. His attorney died soon after, in a fire, possible arson. Wife died a few days later. All connected to McCord are dead. Possible Demetrius connection is as supplier of people to both Anders and McCord. Headed back into CPD.
Twenty seconds later, Isenberg called her cell phone.
‘Good work, Detective.’
Scarlett wanted to sigh. They were still on formal terms. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant,’ she said, echoing Isenberg’s crisp tone. ‘I’m not in a place where I can speak freely.’
‘Understood. Just listen, then. Agent Coppola finished her interview with the quality tech from Constant Global Surveillance. She was right – he was so shaken from the attempt to kill him that he was happy to give up what he knew in exchange for protection. He named Demetrius Russell as his customer for the ankle trackers. The tech would routinely cull out a few of the trackers for destructive testing, record them as recycled parts, then sell them to Demetrius,
who always paid in cash.’
‘So he’s the link, like we thought.’
‘Yes. The quality tech said that he was selling upwards of two hundred units a year.’
Scarlett’s mind spun, thinking about all the victims like Tala’s family. ‘Wow. How did he keep that many destroyed units from being noticed?’
‘He’s implicated his boss, who was getting a cut of the profit. The Feds are picking up the boss as we speak.’
‘Look at the seventh sentence of my text.’
‘The one that says McCord died in jail? You think he was murdered in his cell to keep him quiet and didn’t commit suicide?’
‘Yes. So simple confinement may not be enough protection.’
‘Then I’ll make sure the Constant Global Surveillance employees have extra guards,’ Isenberg said. ‘But I also have other news for you. We have information on the sniper on the roof of the building across from CPD. The Feds did some fancy work with their facial recognition software. Her name is Alice Newman. Law degree from the University of Kentucky.’
‘And she’s a sni—?’ Scarlett caught herself. ‘Wow.’
‘That was our reaction too. She still hasn’t said anything besides that she wants a lawyer, but her cell phone had photos of the suspect she tried to shoot today. And of Marcus.’
Scarlett’s breath rushed out in a shudder. She cleared her throat, kept her voice level. ‘I understand.’ She looked at Marcus talking to the two old people and felt a fear so intense that her knees threatened to buckle. Demetrius had tried to kill him nine months ago and then again. yesterday. This woman had obviously taken up the challenge since Demetrius had failed.
There was a woman, she stood in the hall. Told him someone was coming.
Scarlett assumed that the woman who’d warned Demetrius that day in the hospital had been the same woman who’d accompanied him when he’d transported the Bautistas. A woman the Bautistas had called Alice.
‘Do you have any recordings of this woman’s voice?’ she asked her boss. ‘Even if it’s only saying that she wants a lawyer?’
‘Yes. We’ve been recording her since we brought her in. Why?’
Because even if she refuses to say another word, I can have Marcus listen to her to see if she’s the one he remembers being in the hospital when Demetrius came after him. ‘Like I said, I can’t speak freely here, but I’ll tell you as soon as I leave. I’ll call back in a few.’ Scarlett hung up as Marcus walked away from Tommy and Edna, his expression one of pained amusement that changed to concern as soon as he met her eyes.
‘What?’
‘Nothing bad, but we need to get back to CPD now.’
Minutes later they were in Scarlett’s department car and headed toward CPD. ‘What happened?’ he asked.
She told him everything Isenberg had shared. ‘The woman in your memory, the one who warned Demetrius when he had the pillow on your face . . . Do you think you’d recognize her voice if you heard it again?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said honestly. ‘Does it matter? She had my photo on her phone. I was probably going to be her next target.’
‘Remembering her voice would allow us to connect her to Demetrius, which involves her in the conspiracy to traffic humans. Otherwise she can claim to be a third party hit-person.’
He lifted his brows. ‘Murder for hire is no chump charge.’
‘No, but I want justice for Tala. I want every single person who profited from her three years of misery to pay. I want them to die. In the absence of that, I want them to rot in prison forever and know exactly what it means to have someone else control your destiny.’ Her eyes stung, her voice trembling. ‘I want to be able to look in Malaya’s face someday and know that I did everything humanly possible to ensure that her mother’s sacrifice was not in vain.’
He let out a slow breath, then reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘All right. I’ll do my best.’
‘That’s all I can ask,’ she whispered.
She drove for a few minutes in silence, gathering her composure. She hadn’t intended to get so emotional. She seemed to do that a lot around Marcus O’Bannion. Hell, maybe it was good for her to vent it off. She certainly felt better right now, and he didn’t seem to mind.
‘You okay now, Miss Scarlett?’ he asked lightly, mimicking Tommy’s endearment.
‘Yeah. I am.’ She glanced at him curiously. ‘What did Tommy say to you?’
Marcus snorted a laugh. ‘All the things that your dad and brothers will say when I finally get to meet them. I’d better not break your heart or he’ll break me in half, tear off my arms and beat me with them. That kind of thing.’
‘Tommy? Really? Awww, that is so sweet.’
‘Sweet? He threatened my life and you call him sweet? You really are bloodthirsty,’ he teased.
‘Well you don’t have to worry. I doubt Tommy’s got any follow-through left in him.’
‘I don’t know about that. The old guy’s still got strong hands, and he says he knows how to use them. I’m inclined to believe him. Did you know he has a Purple Heart?’
Scarlett blinked. ‘No. I had no idea. Vietnam?’
‘Yep. He carries it around in his pocket.’
‘He showed you his Purple Heart, just like that? He never showed it to me.’
‘He asked me what I’d done with my life. I told him I’d served. That had him backing off just a little to only a partial disemboweling if I hurt you.’ He smiled when she laughed, but then he sighed. ‘I hate the fact that so many vets are on the streets. Makes me want to fix that.’
‘You can’t fix everything, Marcus.’
‘I know. But I still try. And so do you.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘He told me all the things you’ve done for him and Edna and some of the other street folks.’
Scarlett’s cheeks began to heat. ‘Tommy exaggerates.’
‘I don’t think so. He told me about the water you make sure he drinks and the food you just happen to have with you. About how you nag him to go the shelter and make sure he gets appointments at the clinic.’
Scarlett rolled her eyes, her face now hotter than a flame. ‘I don’t nag. I remind.’
‘Hm. He told me about the blankets and the shoes and the gloves you “happened to have with you” last winter when it was so cold. About how you never forget his birthday or Edna’s. And he told me that when his sister died, it was you who came to sit with him in the hospital. That was how long ago, Scarlett?’
‘Twelve years this fall,’ she murmured.
‘You were only eighteen then. Not a cop yet.’
‘No, not yet, but I knew I’d be one. I miss Tommy’s sister. She kept him stable for so long. Tommy didn’t use to live on the stoop all the time, you know. He had a shoeshine stand downtown. On Saturday afternoons when my dad was off duty, he’d drive me to dance lessons and take the long way home so he could get Tommy to shine his shoes. This was way out of our way. We lived in Bridgetown and my dance studio was there.’
‘Wow. So basically he’d drive all the way from the west side into the city.’
‘Exactly. He would park near Tommy’s corner and pick me up and carry me on his shoulders, then I’d sit on his lap and listen while he and Tommy talked about nothing at all while Tommy shined his shoes. But it wasn’t really nothing. It was my dad getting the pulse of the neighborhood. Creating some trust. I get that now, but I didn’t understand when I was a kid. One day when I was a little older, maybe nine or so, I asked Dad why he paid Tommy to shine his shoes when I could do it cheaper, plus he’d save gas money and time. I was a bargain.’
Marcus’s lips curved. ‘Enterprising. What did your dad say?’
‘That Tommy needed the money and I didn’t. I told him that I did so need it, that I was saving for a girl bicycle with tassels on the handlebars, that I was tired of boy-bike hand-me-downs. That I was his kid and Tommy was some man on the street. Then Dad said he helped Tommy because “but for the grace of God, there go I”.’
‘Your dad’s a vet too?’
‘Yeah. He was in Vietnam at the tail end of the war, only for a few months. I didn’t understand when I was nine, but hearing that Tommy was a vet, it makes sense now. Anyway, Tommy would go home every few days or so and sleep in a real bed and eat a real meal. Then it became every few weeks, then months, and then when Sondra died, he had no place to go. It was like his only tie to the world snapped. I never really thought about taking care of him. It was just something that you did.’
‘You do. How many cops do you know who do the same?’ Marcus had twisted in his seat and now stared at her profile. She could feel his stare and it was making her uncomfortable.
‘I don’t know. I don’t talk about it.’ She frowned. ‘Tommy wasn’t supposed to either.’
‘Because you have a reputation as a ball-buster.’
‘Yeah, and I worked damn hard for that reputation,’ she said indignantly, making him laugh. ‘You think I’m kidding. People like Tommy start breaking radio silence all over the damn place and everyone will start thinking I’m a sap.’
‘Your secrets are safe with me, Miss Scarlett.’
She smiled. ‘He’s called me Miss Scarlett since I was sitting on Dad’s knee in a pink tutu eating an ice cream cone. The truth is, I do what I do because I’m selfish. There are times when I am so angry that I want to walk up to some meth-head who’s beaten his girlfriend’s child to death and put my hands around his neck and squeeze so hard that his head pops like a zit. And there are the times I get rough with a suspect and I have to yank myself back. That’s when I drive through the neighborhoods and do something . . .’
‘Kind?’ Marcus supplied.
‘I guess.’ She shrugged, feeling awkward. ‘It keeps me tethered to the light. So I’m really getting more out of it than Tommy is. Ergo, selfish.’
‘You keep on saying that if it makes you feel better,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You know, you haven’t said much about your father. I assumed he was a . . . distant man.’
Scarlett had to swallow hard. ‘No. My dad is pretty wonderful, actually. He worries about me. Mom does too. I used to be their little girl and now I’m this angry, resentful person.’