by Jana DeLeon
“No criminal record, but he’s changed cities three times in the last five years, New Orleans being the third. I know the church moves younger priests around, so that in itself isn’t necessarily a red flag, but I decided to make a couple of phone calls to his previous employers. No one will tell me why Father Michael was transferred.”
“What do they say when you ask?”
“I talked to two secretaries and an office manager. They all say the same thing, and I mean, the exact same thing. ‘I am not privy to the church’s decisions regarding Father Michael’s transfer.’”
“You think they’ve been coached.”
“Absolutely. It wasn’t just the words, it was the way their tone shifted from normal voice to robot voice as they delivered the supplied line.”
Shaye grabbed her laptop. “What were the churches?”
Jackson gave her the names. “You going to do some poking around?”
“I’m going to try. The church has clamped down on stuff so much. They don’t want to keep the bad rep stirred up, but maybe someone will talk. Either way, it means Father Michael needs a closer look.”
“I could pay him a visit and ask him about Joker, but I don’t have evidence to support anything else.”
“I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about me.”
“Doing what?”
“Hunting the hunter.”
Chapter Ten
Jinx held the scraps of metal in the hem of her shirt and attempted to press them into a single rod. It was hard to manage the narrow pieces through the material, but she’d already cut three fingers with the sharp edges. What she needed was more light, but none would be forthcoming until the morning when sunlight crept through cracks in the barn.
Spider had pulled and tugged on every bar and piece of wood in his cage, but nothing had given an inch. He’d used his shirt to snag a piece of wood and was using that to pry one of the boards from the wall. Jinx didn’t really think it would work, but it gave him something to do instead of talking, which tended to disrupt her concentration. If she could get her lock undone, then she could do Spider’s.
That was their best bet.
It had taken her a while to get the rhinestones off her jeans and even longer to get the stones off the metal backings. With no tools but her ragged fingernails and the fleeting slivers of sunlight, it made for tedious work. She’d taken a break once to eat the sandwich when she finally got them all off her jeans. With her stomach still churning, she hadn’t wanted to eat, but she had to keep her strength up. They were only feeding them twice a day, so it was a good thing that she’d gotten used to living on far less than a normal girl her age would consume. A normal girl would probably have passed out already.
A normal girl wouldn’t even be in here.
The thought flashed through her mind, and she felt tears well up again. She’d thought when her Aunt Cora found her that she might have a chance. If Cora took her away from her mother, the shack they lived in, the drugged-out men who made her stomach roll, she might have known what being normal felt like. But her mother had found Cora’s number hidden under her mattress and burned it on the stove, laughing at Jinx as she did it.
Her mother said no one was taking away her free ride.
Jinx had tried to grab the paper from her mother, but it was too late. The number was already gone. She’d been so angry, she’d shoved her mother, something she’d never done before. Her mother had fallen back over a kitchen chair and hit the wall with a thud. She’d looked up at Jinx, the hate in her eyes so clear.
“The next time one of them asks,” her mother said, “I’m taking the money.”
Jinx knew exactly what her mother meant. She ran back to her room and slammed the door, then threw a change of clothes into her backpack. Her mother banged on the door, screaming at her to unlock it or she’d pay. Jinx pushed open the window and climbed out, then hurried down the street. At the corner, she took one final look at the dilapidated shack before whirling around and running as fast as she could.
The door to the barn opened, startling her out of her thoughts, and she scrambled to hide the metal under the straw in the corner. She heard someone walking, then at the far end of the barn, a light flickered on and she saw the man with the scar carrying a lantern in one hand and a burlap bag in the other.
Jinx’s heart dropped into her stomach. Another kid!
The man walked to the center of the barn and pulled down a thick rope with a big hook on it from one of the overhead rafters, then turned the bag upside down, dumping a wild hog on the ground. Blood seeped from a bullet hole right between the hog’s eyes.
A breath of relief rushed out of Jinx and the man looked over at her and grinned. “Thought I had another one of you in here, didn’t you? Not this time. All I got this time is dinner.”
He grabbed the pig by its hind legs, which were bound with rope, and lifted it off the ground, suspending it from the hook. He stuck a bucket underneath the hog, then pulled a huge knife from his back pocket and made a cut down the center of the hog’s stomach. Entrails tumbled out of the hog’s body and fell into the bucket below, making a sickening plopping sound as they hit.
Jinx turned her head away and heard the man chuckle.
“Ain’t got the stomach for it, do you?” he asked. “Did you know that if you hung a live hog up in the forest and cut its stomach open, it would still be alive when other animals started to eat it? I’m guessing a human would be the same.”
Jinx’s stomach rolled and she clenched her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands. She waited a long time before the light went off. She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness but she couldn’t see anything.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
“Yes,” Spider said.
“What about the…uh…”
“He took the hog and the bucket, too.”
Thank God. Even though the dead hog couldn’t do anything to her, the thought of it hanging there dripping was enough to make her nauseous. Which is exactly what the monster intended.
“Jinx?” Spider said. “You still working on the key?”
“Yeah. I’m still working on it.”
“I think I have one nail loosened a little.”
“That’s good. If you can work it out, keep it. We can use it as a weapon.”
Jinx concentrated on the metal again. When she was out of here, she’d find her aunt, even if she had to go to North Carolina to do it. They were going to get out of here. She was going to find her aunt.
She was going to know what normal was. So help her God.
* * *
Hustle took a bite out of a cinnamon bun and hopped in Shaye’s SUV. He’d awakened in decent spirits, especially given that he’d been attacked the night before, but still seemed nervous about being in her apartment. Their first stop had been a store to pick up Hustle a new cell phone, then Shaye had taken them to a café she liked for breakfast.
“Where are we going?” Hustle asked.
“We’re going to get you fixed up. I promised you that I’d find you a new place to stay, right?”
He nodded, looking a little guilty. “I don’t want you to think I’m being ungrateful or nothing. Your place is great. That’s probably the best I’ve slept since my mom died. But I don’t want to cause you no trouble, especially with that guy after me.”
Shaye pulled away from the curb of the café. “I don’t think you’re being ungrateful at all. Neither one of us wants another run-in with the kidnapper, so we’re both going to be extra careful. You’ve seen my place and know it’s secure. Now we’ll get you a safe place and you’ll be sneaky about getting there tonight.”
“Okay.”
She smiled at him. “Besides, while we seem to get along fine, I get the feeling that both of us prefer our own space.”
“Yeah. I never minded being alone. I used to draw a lot, before…and read.”
“Make me a promise.”
He frowned. “Tell me what it is first.”
<
br /> “Okay. Promise me that when all this is over, you’ll consider some options I can give you. I’m not saying you have to take me up on them, but at least give them some thought.”
He stared at her for a couple seconds, then nodded. “I guess it don’t hurt to think about something.”
“Good. Then let’s get your place lined up and get to work.”
She drove to the west edge of Bywater and pulled into a hotel parking lot. The building was old and needed a coat of paint, but it was structurally sound, and more importantly, wasn’t being used for the daily operation of the criminal sort of enterprise. In short terms, they didn’t rent by the hour.
“Wait here,” Shaye said and headed inside.
A large balding man with a perpetually red face looked over from the front desk as she walked in and smiled. “Shaye,” he said, and extended his hand as she stepped up to the desk. “I saw that news piece about that serial killer. I’m glad you’re still walking among us.”
“Me too. How are you doing, Saul?”
“Oh, I’m doing fine. I guess the work you did on that insurance scammer for me was like a good night’s sleep in comparison.”
Shaye nodded. “The work I did when I was with Breaux was definitely less, uh, invigorating, we’ll call it.”
He raised one eyebrow. “‘Dangerous’ was the word I was thinking of. So what can I do for you? I doubt you’re down in Bywater for a social call.”
“No. I came to ask a favor. The kind I pay for, of course.”
He frowned. “If you mean information or something, I don’t know of anything sketchy going on around here. I mean, not outside the norm, anyway. Besides, I’d never accept money from you for information.”
“It’s not that. I have a friend, a client, and he’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Someone attacked him last night. I need a safe place for him to stay.”
“Well, ain’t no one coming through that door that me or Roscoe don’t see, that’s for sure. And I got a nine-millimeter that says they better draw fast and fire accurately. I guess that’s safe enough.”
“I have no doubt. There’s something else you need to know. This client has been living on the streets, and he’s underage.”
Saul’s eyes widened. “Are you sure it’s a good idea, you getting mixed up with him?”
“He’s a good kid who’s gotten handed a raw deal. He helped me with the Frederick case.”
“You say he’s a client? What does he need you for?”
Shaye gave him a brief rundown of the missing street kids. He listened intently, then shook his head when she was done.
“That’s horrible,” he said. “I don’t even like to think why someone would…you know.”
“Yes, I do. Anyway, I wouldn’t feel right having him stay here without you knowing the facts. I don’t know his real name or age, but I’m certain he’s not eighteen. He’s been living on the streets but he cares about this girl so much he sacrificed pride to ask for help.”
Saul nodded. “I trust you. If you vouch for him then I got a place he can stay. There’s a vacant room right above the lobby. If anyone comes after him they’ll have to get through the lobby first.”
“That sounds great.” She pulled out her wallet and handed him a credit card. “I don’t know how long he’ll be here. Just put any expense on the card.”
He swiped her card and handed it back to her. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Just keep an eye out. If you see anyone hanging around who wasn’t here before, let me know.”
“You got it.” He handed her two card keys. “I figure you should have one. In case.”
“Thanks.” She stuck the spare card in her back pocket, headed outside, and rapped on the passenger window of the SUV. “Come on.”
Hustle climbed out and followed her inside. Shaye waved a hand at Saul. “This is Saul. He owns the hotel. Saul, this is my friend Hustle.”
“Nice to meet you,” Saul said, and held out his hand.
Hustle hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and shook it. “You too,” he said.
“If you need anything,” Saul said, “let me know. There’s someone up here 24-7.”
“Thanks,” Hustle said, his gaze dropped to the floor.
“Let’s go check out your room,” Shaye said and headed for the stairs. They went up one flight and she handed him the room card. “It’s this one here,” she said, indicating the room that was over the lobby.
Hustle opened the door and they stepped inside. The room was small but probably looked like a palace to Hustle. It had a kitchenette on the right side and a table with two chairs on the left. To the left was a living room with a couch, chair, and television mounted on the wall. Beyond that was a tiny bedroom with connected bath. The entire thing probably wasn’t four hundred square feet, but it was clean and had everything Hustle needed.
Hustle walked through the room, looking around, then opened some of the cabinets in the kitchen, checking out the dishes, pots, and pans. “This is great,” he said. “But this kind of place is expensive. You’re already working for free. I can’t let you pay for this too.”
“It’s a business expense,” she said.
“But you ain’t got no income. I know how business works. I ain’t paying you nothing, so this would come out of your pocket.”
Shaye thought for a moment, then before she could change her mind, blurted out what she’d been thinking. “I don’t say this to sound crass, but I’m loaded. I mean the kind of rich that renting this place for a year wouldn’t even make a tiny nick in. My grandfather set up a trust fund for me years ago. I don’t do this job for the money.”
Hustle stared at her for a bit, clearly uncertain what to say. “But you can’t do it for free all the time. Everybody’s money runs out sometime.”
“I don’t do it for free all the time. Lord knows, the IRS wouldn’t like that one bit, but you know how some attorneys and doctors take cases on without charging?”
Hustle shook his head. “That’s charity. I don’t want no handout.”
“It’s not charity. It’s call pro bono work.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It’s work that professionals take on for no pay because they consider the work to be for the larger public good. Someone out there is kidnapping people. Everyone benefits when he’s behind bars.”
“Maybe, but it seems like I’m benefiting more than most.”
“You’re a critical part of my investigation. I need you on the streets, but I can’t in good conscience have you there if I don’t think you’re safe. So far that we know of, this guy has taken kids at night and probably on their way to their nighttime place. In order for me to concentrate on the job, I need to know that you’re safe at night. I need you back here every night before dark. That means leaving the docks or wherever early because you need to circle around and double back to make sure no one is following you.”
Hustle looked around the apartment, and Shaye could see the longing in his expression. He desperately wanted this, but his pride was still strong. Finally he nodded. “Okay, but only until we find Jinx.”
“Until we find Jinx,” Shaye agreed, but she already had plans for Hustle once everything was over. Assuming he took one of her options. “I picked this hotel because I did some work for Saul and know him. You can trust him. He knows a little about your situation and he’s going to be keeping a watch, too. If you see anything you think looks suspicious, tell him. He’ll know if it’s normal for this area or not. If something’s not normal, then you call me.”
“You trust him?”
“I do. He kept this place going through the rebuilding and never let it get filled up with crime like others. He did twenty years in the Marine Corps and his son is a decorated fighter pilot. If someone comes after you, rest assured, he will protect you with lethal force. He doesn’t like injustice.”
“Marine, huh? That�
�s cool.”
“So you’ll stay here at night, but get here before dark, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be talking to you during the day, but when you get back here, I want you to text and let me know you’re in for the night.” She pulled her wallet out of her purse and handed him two hundred dollars in twenties. “This is money for food or whatever. I need you to get enough to eat.”
He thrust the money back at her. “It’s too much. I could eat for a month off that.”
Shaye pushed his hand back toward him. “I wasn’t finished. There’s a clinic on the corner. When you leave here, go have your ankle checked. I need you in top shape. If the man comes after you again, you won’t get away if you’re limping or weak from dehydration or hunger.”
Hustle dropped his gaze to the floor and nodded. Then he looked back up at her. “I’m gonna find a way to pay you back. For everything.”
“If that’s what you need to do, then that’s fine. But we’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. Let’s go grab your skateboard out of my car and you can go get that ankle looked at.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have something I need to work on with Jackson,” she said, feeling guilty about lying, even though it wasn’t completely untrue. Jackson had told her about Father Michael, and he did know about her plan to follow him. He just didn’t like it. “Are you going to the docks after the clinic?”
He nodded. “I keep hoping I’ll find out something.”
“And you might. You might also see someone hanging around and make a connection.”
“I need to warn them all about the guy, too.”
“You do. Tell them he was waiting for you and that wherever they’re staying at night might not be safe anymore. If they all change locations, it would slow him down at least.”
She pulled her keys out of her pocket. “I’m going to get out of here. Call me if you find out anything. I’ve, uh, got a meeting today, so if it goes to voice mail, leave a message and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” He grabbed her arm as she started to leave. “Be careful. He might know about you, too.”