The Girl in the Motel

by Chris Culver

  She smiled and nodded. “I do.”

  “Bearing your rights in mind, would you like to talk and clarify a few things?”

  “Sure,” she said, standing straighter. “Why don’t we go in my office, though? It’s much more comfortable.”

  “If that’s how you want to do this. I’ll record the conversation with my cell if you don’t mind.”

  “I thought you might,” said Diana, sauntering toward her office door. She spoke over her shoulder as we walked. “I’m glad to see that you’re doing so well. I worried about you. Megan and Emily had business sense, but I could see you going either way. Police work suits you.”

  “Your thoughtfulness is touching.”

  “Haven’t lost your sense of humor, either,” she said, stepping into her office. It was a big room with dark woodwork and a heavy desk near the far window. There were bookshelves along the wall and a chaise lounge in a corner. Diana walked to the desk and rested on an edge. I sat in a chair nearby and took my cell phone from my purse. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  I leaned back but kept the barrel of my firearm pointed at her as I turned on an app to record everything we said. “What are you sorry for?”

  “Everything that happened to you,” she said. “I didn’t know my ex-husband was such a monster.”

  “Please don’t lie to me,” I said. “Your husband was a buffoon. We both know who the real brains behind his organization was.”

  She smiled but didn’t acknowledge my point.

  “As sorry as I am for what he did to you, I’m glad you could stop him from hurting anyone else. It felt nice to shoot him, I’m sure.”

  I locked my gaze on Diana.

  “I’m not here to talk about that,” I said. “Did you send Christopher to my house?”

  “No,” she said. Her smile held just a hint of melancholy. “That was James. I haven’t spoken to my ex-husband in almost thirteen years.”

  “And by James, you mean James Holmes. Sherlock,” I said. “Christopher’s lawyer.”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “James was special. Christopher became convinced that someone was trying to kill him and asked James for help. James sent him to your house, knowing your dog would see him. He wanted him dead and thought you would be glad to help.”

  “Did James arrange anyone else’s deaths?”

  “Emily and Megan Young. He had Emily tortured into revealing her sister’s whereabouts. Megan had gone to St. Augustine to find you. She thought you could protect her. It didn’t work out for her, did it?”

  “He told you this?” I asked. She nodded.

  “Men will say many things when they’re happy,” she said. “I made him happy.”

  “Did he kill Warren Nichols, too?”

  She nodded. “Yes. James was doing everything he could to isolate Christopher so he could take over his business. He also killed Steven Zimmerman and a handful of other people. He tried to kill me, too. You found his blood in my bedroom. It was self-defense.”

  And there it was. Her defense. She’d paint Sherlock as a dangerous psychopath willing to kill anyone who crossed him. She was just another innocent victim caught in a treacherous web.

  “I’m glad to hear you survived his vicious attack,” I said, nodding. “Did you call the police?”

  She shook her head and then looked down. “I was scared. I called Alonzo Morrison and Scott Gibson. They worked for James, but I thought I could trust them. They took his body, and I took a shower. I don’t know what happened after they disappeared.”

  The lies rolled off her tongue. I didn’t envy the prosecutor who got assigned to this case. Diana was gorgeous, articulate, and even a little demure. The men and women on the jury would love her—even as she lied right to their faces.

  “Did they call the carpet cleaning service, too?”

  She shifted her weight and sighed.

  “You shouldn’t have seen them,” she said. “I booked them to come at six in the morning. I paid double their rates for emergency work. They should have been gone before the rest of the world woke up. Nobody would have been the wiser.”

  “It was a reasonable plan,” I said, standing. “And who knows? You’re rich. Maybe your lawyer will sell it to a jury still.”

  “Oh, honey,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “People like me don’t go to jail. Can you do us both a favor and take these handcuffs off me? They were fun at first, but they’re getting a little old now.”

  “I can’t see that happening.”

  She nodded and slid toward me. “I tried to keep you safe, you know. You were always one of my favorites. That’s why Christopher wanted you. Then, after he had you, he didn’t care. You were damaged goods then.”

  I felt the bile rise in my throat.

  “You’re quite the humanitarian. I’ll tell the prosecutor how kind you were when I was under your care.”

  Her eyes left mine, and she focused on the carpet for a few seconds before she looked at me again.

  “I always wanted a daughter. You know, when you first moved in, I thought it might have been you. You were special.”

  “This is getting creepy. Maybe we could move the conversation along?”

  She smiled. “I always liked your sense of humor, too. I was glad to hear that detective adopted you. You love her, don’t you?”

  “That’s none of your business,” I said. “My backup should be here any moment, though, and I’m sure they’d be more than interested in hearing about your mother-daughter fantasies.”

  She gave me a patronizing, almost wistful smile. “Honey, if you had backup coming, don’t you think they’d be here by now?”

  The unease I had felt earlier spread through my body.

  “Don’t move,” I said, walking across to a window overlooking the parking lot. She was right. The county had almost a thousand police officers on patrol, and the city of Ladue would have thirty or forty. Diana and I had been talking long enough that someone should have come by now.

  I took my cell phone from my purse and found that I had a new text message from Julia. It was a picture taken from the parking lot. Julia was in the trunk of a maroon vehicle, unmoving. My stomach plunged into my shoes, and my breath caught in my throat. Then I looked at Diana.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  Seeing the smug smile on her face made something inside me break. I jammed my weapon against her temple hard enough to force her to her side.

  “Call your friends, and tell them to back off,” I said, pressing hard against her head again. “I will blow your fucking head off.”

  “You hurt me, Captain Green dies,” said Diana. “If you listen, there’s no reason we can’t all walk away. It’s your choice.”

  My finger slipped from the trigger guard to my firearm’s trigger. My breath was shallow. I wanted to kill her even more than I had wanted to shoot her ex-husband. Then I pictured Julia in the trunk.

  “If Julia’s dead, I’ll kill you and hunt down everyone you’ve ever worked with.”

  “She’s not dead, sweetheart,” said Diana. “My men won’t hurt her without my say-so. Can you take off my cuffs, now?”

  I took the pressure off her head.

  “Thank you for listening to reason,” she said, glancing at me again. “Now unload your weapon—including the round from the chamber—place it on my desk and then remove these handcuffs.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “If we don’t leave soon, Scott and Alonzo will kill Julia. Afterwards, they will come here. You might kill me, but Scott and Alonzo are very dangerous men. You won’t take them both out. Instead, they’ll take you to a cabin in the woods and use you in ways Christopher never dreamed of. Then, when they’re done with you, they’ll kill you.”

  “They’ll kill me anyway,” I said. “If I’ve got a gun, I’ve at least got a chance.”

  “Julia doesn’t, though,” said Diana. “And they won’t touch you without my say-so. They’re loyal, and
I won’t let them hurt you as long as you cooperate. Consider it an apology for everything that happened to you under my roof.”

  I looked to the picture on my cell phone again.

  “How do I know she’s still alive?”

  “If I wanted her dead, you’d see holes in her chest,” she said. “Believe me, I know the consequences of murdering a police officer. You people would hunt me to the end of my days. I’m not interested in killing either of you if I don’t have to, so please don’t make me.”

  It went against every bit of police training I had, but she was right. Julia and I were both dead unless I cooperated. I slid the magazine out of my firearm and then removed the round from the chamber before putting everything on her desk. As I pulled my hand back, I palmed a paper clip from the desktop, hoping I wouldn’t have to use it.

  “And now my handcuffs,” said Diana, standing. I nodded and unhooked her. She turned around and picked up my weapon. I drew in a deep breath as she pointed it at my face and pulled the trigger. Even knowing the chamber was empty, I flinched as the weapon dry fired.

  “It’s a nice piece,” she said, sliding the magazine into the grip. She chambered a round and looked down the sights but didn’t point it at me. “It’s light and comfortable to hold. It’s a lady’s gun. I think I’ll keep this. Thank you.”

  “I hope you shoot yourself.”

  She smiled but didn’t take the bait.

  “I’m glad you came to your senses. Now let’s go find your partner, sweetheart. We need not draw this out any longer than necessary.”

  44

  Diana led me outside by pointing my pistol at my back. The barista had abandoned her post at the coffee shop, and the elderly women who had been drinking the overpriced brew were gone. Diana and I weren’t alone, though. There were three men behind the building. Two were large and rough looking, while the third was older and thin. A duffel bag over his shoulder threw his balance off so that he walked with an odd tilt.

  “I’m here, and I’m cooperating,” I said, glancing at Diana. “What happens now?”

  “Alonzo will cuff you, and then you will climb into the rear seat of the Oldsmobile. He will sit beside you. I will be in the passenger seat. Mr. Gibson will be our driver. Once we reach a safe destination, we will allow you and Captain Green out of the car. You’ll be able to walk away to safety, and you’ll never see me again.”

  I looked to the third man, the one who hadn’t spoken.

  “What’s his role?”

  “He’s none of your concern,” she said. “You won’t see him again after today, either.”

  “Let me see Julia.”

  Diana shook her head. “If I wanted Julia dead, she’d be dead. You would be dead, too. You’re still breathing. That should tell you something.”

  I held my breath for a moment, hoping to hear a siren in the distance. Diana’s crew must have gotten to Julia before she could make the call. This was bad. Diana may have promised to let us go, but more than likely, she planned to drive us to the middle of nowhere and knock us off outside the prying eyes of any neighbors. Still, the longer we were alive, the better our chances were of escaping.

  “Did you hurt her?”

  “I used chloroform,” said Alonzo. “She’ll wake up with a headache, but she’ll be fine.”

  If they had wanted, they could have slit my throat or strangled me by now. They might not kill me if I cooperated, but if I did that, they’d get away. I looked to Diana.

  “You tried to keep me safe,” I said. “You tried to keep Christopher away from me.”

  “I did,” she said, nodding, her eyes closed. “I’m ashamed of what happened to you beneath my roof. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Were there others you didn’t keep safe?”

  She blinked a few times and considered before speaking.

  “Christopher had a list of girls I thought were special. He wasn’t allowed to touch them.”

  “What happened to girls who weren’t on that list?”

  “I never asked,” she said.

  I nodded and felt my face grow hot.

  “So they were fair game.”

  She walked toward me and tilted her head to the side.

  “You may not approve of the things I’ve done, but I was a businesswoman. Sometimes businesspeople have to do disreputable things to stay in business. I was saving you so that you could go into business with me. You could have lived like a princess. I would have given you a wonderful life.”

  “And what would I have had to do?”

  She looked at me up and down. “You would have used what God gave you to make men happy. In return, they would have paid us as if they had been fucked by a queen. Now get in the car. I’m tired of talking.”

  It was about what I had expected to hear. Everyone had blood on his or her hands. I couldn’t let any of them get away, but I couldn’t let them hurt Julia, either. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave me with many options. I walked toward the Oldsmobile and then felt a strong hand grab my elbow. It was one of Diana’s thugs.

  “Hands behind your back.”

  I did as he asked and then felt a pair of metal handcuffs dig into my wrists. They were secure but not so tight that they’d cut off circulation. I could move my hands a little. The thug opened the door, and we piled into the vehicle. The creepy guy with the duffel bag disappeared.

  I didn’t have a plan, but any first step required me to take off the cuffs. Police-issue handcuffs had a ratcheting lock with teeth held in by a locking bar. If I could get something between those teeth and the locking bar, the lock would disengage and the cuffs would slide wide open. I had done it before with a special tool, but if I were to have any chance of getting out of this alive, I’d have to make do with the paperclip I had taken from her desk.

  “You’re quiet,” said Diana, turning and looking over her shoulder as I straightened my paper clip into a wire.

  “I don’t have much to say,” I said.

  “You know, we could have been friends,” said Diana. “You and I are a lot alike.”

  “Oh,” I said, nodding. “Did you once live with a psychopath who wanted to protect you from her husband only so she could turn you out as a high-end prostitute, too?”

  Her smile slipped from her lips.

  “I never knew my parents.”

  “Well,” I said, slipping the tip of the paper clip into the handcuffs. It wouldn’t go in very far, but I had expected that. “Aside from the psychopath thing, I guess we do have a lot in common, then.”

  “Your attempt to deflect uncomfortable conversations with snide remarks doesn’t reflect well on you.”

  “It’s a character flaw I’ve been working on,” I said, pulling my wrists together so I could squeeze the rings. The ratchet clicked as the cuffs tightened, drawing the paper clip inside a little more.

  We drove for about half an hour before pulling off the interstate. I didn’t know where we were, but we couldn’t have been too far outside St. Louis County. About ten minutes after we turned off the interstate, we crossed the Meramec River at a bridge I didn’t recognize. After that, we turned onto a side road that led to a wooded area. I didn’t like this at all.

  “Are we going camping?” I asked.

  Diana smiled and shook her head but said nothing before her phone buzzed. She didn’t take her eyes from mine, but she answered the phone and spoke quickly. I couldn’t hear what the other party said, but she said she understood. She was getting orders, probably from Mr. Mendoza. I didn’t know Diana’s end game, but we had to be getting close to it. There was nothing out here.

  As the road grew rougher, I heard something banging inside the trunk.

  “Sounds like Julia woke up,” said Diana, turning to glance over her shoulder. I squeezed the handcuff tighter and felt it click once more. My locksmith training had included little work with handcuffs. I hoped my paper clip trick was working because I couldn’t keep squeezing much longer.

  “The moment she
gets out, she’ll try to kill you,” I said, squeezing again. The locking bar clicked once more, biting into my wrist. I could feel the bone compress. The paper clip was stuck. It had to be almost there. “Please don’t hurt her.”

  Diana looked over her shoulder again and held up my pistol. “No guarantees, but you’ll be there to calm her down. She’ll listen when she sees a gun pointed at your head.”

  For emphasis, she pointed the weapon in my direction before turning around again. I drew in a deep breath, straightened my back, and then coughed. The noise covered up the sound of my handcuffs ratcheting once more. The metal bit into my flesh, but then the ring went slack as the paper clip blocked the ratcheting lock.

  My hand was free, but that didn’t improve the situation much. Even if I could get the gun away from Diana, I’d only have one or two shots before the other guys around me reacted and pulled their own weapons. I had to make this count.

  “What did Mr. Mendoza want?” I asked.

  “He wanted to hear how we were doing.”

  “It sounded like he was giving you orders,” I said, eyeing the man beside me. He winked and then pursed his lips as if he were giving me a kiss. I slid on my seat to the left as if he scared me. He snickered and looked out the window. Diana rolled her eyes.

  “You don’t need to worry about Mr. Mendoza. I have you now.”

  “You won’t let him hurt me, will you?” I asked, allowing a tremble into my voice.

  “Not if you’re a good girl,” she said, still pointing that weapon at me. She turned and looked at the road ahead of her. I had been waiting for a mistake like that.

  I pulled my hand out of the cuff but kept both hands behind my back. Diana’s grip looked tight, but she kept her finger outside the weapon’s trigger guard. It would take about half a second for her brain to respond to a threat and a split second longer to move her finger to the trigger. That didn’t give me much time.

  But I didn’t need much time.

  I waited for the man on my right to look out the window. That was my moment.

  God, please let this work.

  I whipped my hands from around my back and lunged forward. Diana must have sensed something because she whirled her gaze toward me at the same instant my fingers touched the frame of her weapon. I twisted the barrel as hard as I could, but she fired before I could wrench the weapon from her hand. It didn’t matter who held the gun, though. I just needed to bend her wrist enough to move the barrel and point it at the driver.