by Jana DeLeon
Shaye knew that better than anyone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The scene at the hospital was like something out of a Lifetime movie. Hustle hugging Jinx. Jinx hugging Peter. Peter’s mom and dad hugging Jinx. Corrine and Eleonore hugging a contrite Hustle and a non-contrite Shaye. Eleonore hugging an embarrassed Jackson. And the harried medical staff finally allowing them a fifteen-second reunion with Scratch, who’d finally regained consciousness.
They all waited anxiously for news on Spider and when it came, it set off another round of celebrating. Spider was weak and exhausted, but he was going to be fine. Doctors insisted on keeping all of the injured overnight and when Shaye backed them up, Hustle finally acquiesced, but insisted on sharing a room with Spider.
Corrine and Eleonore finally bowed out, but only after Shaye promised to report the next day at Corrine’s house to fill them in on all the details. Shaye, Jackson, and Jinx headed to Hustle and Spider’s hospital room, promising the staff that they’d only be a few minutes.
Jackson started filling Hustle in on everything that he’d missed, and Shaye looked around the room until she saw what she’d been looking for—Hustle’s skateboard, which she’d asked her mother to bring to the hospital. She picked it up and turned it over, hoping it confirmed her suspicion. She smiled when it did. The one missing piece was about to fall into place.
“You thinking of taking up skating?” Hustle asked.
“No,” Shaye said, “I was just looking for an answer to the one question that never got answered to my satisfaction.”
“What’s that?” Jackson asked.
“How Clancy and Fuller knew where to find you guys. At first I thought they could have watched for a while and eventually put together your night routes, a little bit at a time. But that couldn’t account for Fuller being at the hotel waiting for Hustle. No way could he have followed you all the way from the French Quarter without you noticing. And no way could he have followed us from my apartment that morning. But yet he was waiting for you there.”
“So how did they find us?” Hustle asked.
“They had help.” Shaye flipped his skateboard over and pointed to the small square taped onto the bottom of the board. “It’s a tracking device. I suspect Jinx’s board had the same thing but it was knocked off when she was attacked.”
Everyone stared at her.
“But they were never anywhere near my board,” Hustle said.
“I think,” Shaye said, “someone in your midst isn’t who you think they are. Has anyone asked to try out your board lately?”
Hustle straightened up in his bed. “Reaper did!”
“Mine too,” Jinx said.
“That bastard!” Hustle said. “He was working for Clancy? How could he do that? Sell out his own people?”
Shaye shook her head. “I don’t think he was like you at all. I think he only pretended to be on the street. My guess is he’s related to Clancy or Fuller.”
Jackson’s eyes widened. “The cousin who brought Fuller lunch.”
Shaye nodded. “I’m sure he’s on the run now.”
“Give me a description,” Jackson said. “I’ll get people started tracking him.”
“I can do better than that,” Hustle said and pulled out his phone. “I took this the other day when he was skating on my board.” He passed Jackson the phone with the picture of Reaper.
Jackson sent the picture to his phone and handed it back to Hustle. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and stepped out of the room.
“We need to get going as well,” Shaye said.
“Where are you taking Jinx?” Hustle asked.
Jinx’s eyes widened. “I’m not going to one of those homes.”
“You don’t have to,” Shaye said. “I’m taking you to your aunt.”
“You’re driving me to North Carolina?” Jinx stared at her in disbelief.
“No. Your aunt is living right here in New Orleans. She’s been looking for you too, but thought you were still in Baton Rouge.”
Jinx’s eyes teared up. “Aunt Cora is here? For real?”
Shaye nodded. “She’s going to be so happy to see you.” Shaye looked over at Hustle. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
He nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. She could see the tears glistening in his eyes.
* * *
It was almost daylight when Jackson pulled up in front of Shaye’s apartment. It had been a long and exhausting night, but satisfying as well. Reaper had been apprehended at the airport, proclaiming his innocence in everything, but Scratch had awakened shortly after they’d left the hospital with a clarity he’d lacked when they’d spoken with him earlier. He’d immediately called the police and told them he recognized Reaper’s voice as the angry voice who had given Fuller orders.
Grayson’s crew were still going over all of Clancy’s properties with a fine-tooth comb, seeing if they could find information on any other missing persons.
Jackson climbed out of the car along with Shaye and she looked over at him. “Don’t tell me you’re walking me to my door,” she said. “It’s ten feet away.”
“No. I’m coming inside and making sure everything is secure.”
“Jackson, it’s over.”
“I sure as hell hope so, but it will only take me a couple of minutes to ease my conscience. Then I can rest with no worries.”
Shaye shook her head. “Fine.”
She pulled out her key and opened the front door, then walked inside, Jackson trailing behind her. He watched as she disarmed the alarm, and then he did a sweep of the apartment, checking the doors and windows in every room. When he was done, he came back into the living room and looked down at Shaye, who’d slumped onto the couch.
“All clear?” she asked.
“Yep.” He hesitated for a second, then flopped onto the other end of the couch. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked over at her. “You did a really good job on this case.”
“Thanks. I think about how many people Clancy could have sold and I feel sick inside. What if there are still more out there?”
“The search for victims is already under way and will have a ton of police resources behind it. All you need to think about now is the people you helped save.”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. A couple of seconds later, he was snoring softly. Shaye started to get up and go to bed, but just the thought of standing made her cringe.
“What the hell,” she said, and curled up in the corner of the couch.
She was asleep in seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shaye pulled up a stool to the counter at her mother’s house. Corrine and Eleonore were still wearing pajamas even though it was close to noon. Her mother poured a round of coffee, then slipped onto a stool across from her, ready to hear all the details.
Shaye filled them in on Hustle’s message about his attacker and the showdown at Clancy’s office. As the story grew more intense, Corrine grew more awake. By the time Shaye got to the part where Jackson shot Clancy, her eyes were wide open.
“When you called and said he’d left the house,” Corrine said, “I almost had a heart attack.”
Eleonore nodded. “At first we thought you were wrong, but when we searched the yard we found the chair next to the fence. That one is sneaky.”
“He is,” Shaye agreed. “And stubborn.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Corrine said. “So finish telling us about the Abshire farm.”
Shaye told them about the phone number trace and her and Jackson’s search of the house. When she got to the part about the cages in the barn, everyone went quiet.
“I’ve heard some horrible things,” Corrine said, “but nothing like that. Hunting people? I could never even imagine something so evil.”
Eleonore sat down her coffee cup. “You said Spider wasn’t the first one held there. I assume the teen from Jackson’s case was one of the victims?”
Shaye nodded. �
�Spider ID’d him when Jackson showed him a picture, and ballistics matched the bullet they took out of Joker to one of the Abshire brothers’ rifles.”
“Were there any others before Joker?” Corrine asked.
“We don’t think so,” Shaye said. “Based on what Spider got from Joker and the Abshire brothers, they had five hunts scheduled. We figure Scratch was supposed to be one of them but they overdosed him. Scratch heard two men arguing about it during one of his semiconscious states. Since he didn’t recognize those voices, we figure he heard Fuller and Clancy.”
“And they paid twenty grand each for them?” Corrine asked. “Where did those cretins get a hundred thousand dollars?”
“Oil,” Shaye said. “Their great-grandfather built that farm and owned a ton of land south of here that was full of oil. He leased it to the oil companies, and the monthly checks allowed the family to stop farming and live on easy street.”
“And become the monsters they are,” Eleonore said. “I wonder if the police would allow me access to their property.”
“Eleonore Blanchet!” Corrine stared at her friend in dismay. “You are not going to study those evil bastards and write another one of those horrifying books.”
“Those books give law enforcement an advantage in dealing with the extremes of human behavior,” Eleonore said.
“I guess,” Corrine said, “but no one should spend that much time in such a dark place.”
Shaye didn’t say anything because she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Her past was one of those dark places and she was trying to uncover it, even though she knew it would probably change her forever to know the truth. Eleonore believed the truth made for a better future. She thought people who could dwell successfully in reality were far better off than those who refused to look behind the closed door because they were afraid of what they might see.
“What about the fake skater?” Corrine asked. “The one who put the tracking device on Hustle’s skateboard?”
“The police caught him at the airport with a ticket to Brazil. Apparently, the escape plan was already in place for Clancy. Grayson’s men found a fake passport at Clancy’s office and a receipt for a charter flight to Indonesia. It doesn’t look like Fuller or Reaper were part of Clancy’s finale. Jackson figures Reaper and Fuller were two loose ends Clancy was going to wrap up before he left.”
“What was the relationship among them all?” Eleonore asked.
“Fuller was Clancy’s half brother. According to Fuller’s neighbors, he wasn’t exactly setting the world on fire. My guess is Clancy’s been looking out for him since they were kids.”
“And using him for his side business,” Corrine said. “What about Reaper?”
“Clancy’s son,” Shaye said, “and he was an adult, not a teen like he pretended to be.”
Corrine’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s one I didn’t see coming.”
“Me either,” Shaye said. “Clancy was never married to his mother, but police talked to her this morning and she said Reaper took off when he turned eighteen and she hadn’t heard from him since.”
“She didn’t try to find him?” Corrine asked.
Shaye shook her head. “She told the cops she was glad he left because she was afraid of him. Said he was just like his father.”
“Sociopaths,” Eleonore said. “You can’t sell human beings, calling them ‘products,’ and have any humanity left.”
“That was my guess,” Shaye said. “Reaper’s not talking, of course. He lawyered up and is sitting in a cell. Grayson said when they told him Clancy was planning on leaving without him, he punched the wall and broke his hand.”
“Karmic justice,” Eleonore said.
Corrine had been frowning down at the counter and finally she looked back up at Shaye. “How many people are we talking about? I figure this isn’t the first time.”
Shaye shook her head. “Grayson’s team found a pile of notebooks in the back room of the building next to a can of gasoline. They figure Clancy was going to burn all the evidence before he left and Hustle interrupted him. They’re going through them now. Jackson said it looks like lists of customers and the amounts they paid, but it’s all in some sort of code. Other books appear to be people Clancy paid off, but again, the names are in code.”
“People he paid?” Eleonore asked.
“Probably buying babies,” Corrine said, clearly disgusted. “Illegal adoption is a big business, and there’s plenty of poor people who’d give up a child for a pittance if it meant covering their next meal.”
Shaye nodded. “Another team is trying to match the dates of payments with adoption records, but it’s going to take a long time. Jackson said the records go back almost twenty years.”
“Twenty years!” Corrine stared. “Oh my God. The number of lives that man destroyed is unimaginable.”
“Yeah,” Shaye agreed. Jackson had told her it would probably take the police years to comb through all the evidence and even longer to track down the people on the lists, assuming they could break the code.
“How did he get away with it for almost twenty years?” Corrine asked.
“Grayson told Jackson that the records contained a sharp uptick in sales recently,” Shaye said. “My guess is Clancy was preparing to shut down his business and leave the country and was trying to get the last boost to his nest egg that he could.”
Eleonore nodded. “If he was trafficking people at a much slower rate than his recent deals, it wouldn’t have been hard to get away with it for a long time.”
Corrine stared at them in dismay. “The two of you are beyond depressing. Don’t you have anything good to tell us?”
“What about the reunion between Jinx and her aunt?” Eleonore asked.
“That went even better than I’d hoped,” Shaye said. “It’s obvious how much Cora and Jinx love each other, even though they’ve had so little time together. I think Jinx has a great future with her.”
Shaye felt her eyes mist up as she recalled the teary reunion between Cora and Jinx. It reminded her of her relationship with Corrine.
“I talked with Cora’s attorney this morning,” Corrine said. “I’m having her case moved to New Orleans and handling it myself from the state’s side of things. Jinx is going to get the happy ending she deserves.”
Shaye smiled at Corrine. “I have all the confidence in the world in you.”
Corrine blushed. “That’s the good part of the job, you know? And I don’t get to see it enough.”
“What’s going to happen to Hustle?” Eleonore asked. “He doesn’t strike me as the type that would go willingly into four walls and three squares a day—not if it meant following someone else’s rules.”
“I have an idea about that,” Shaye said, “but I have to talk to some people first.”
Shaye’s cell phone went off and she picked it up. “Speak of the devil. The hospital has cut him loose. I better get over there before he skateboards off into the sunset.”
“Let us know if we can do anything,” Corrine called after her as she headed out.
Shaye waved one hand over her head and dialed another number on her way out of the house. If he was on board, then she could pitch her idea to Hustle when she picked him up at the hospital. If not, she’d figure something else out.
There was always a way. Corrine had taught her that.
* * *
Hustle practically jumped out of the wheelchair when Shaye walked into the emergency room. It had only been half an hour since he’d called her, but cooped up in this place, it had felt like an eternity.
“Give me just a minute,” Shaye said and headed over to the aggravated-looking nurse who kept telling him to stay put.
“I’m Shaye Archer,” Shaye said. “Do you have release forms I need to sign?”
“Yes, Ms. Archer.” The nurse’s demeanor changed from aggravated to pleasant. “Detective Lamotte gave us permission to release the boy into your custody.”
“Great. What about
the bill?”
“It’s not prepared, but we can forward it to you if you’d like.”
“That would be fine.” Shaye pulled out a business card and handed it to the nurse. “You can send it to my post office box. Are there any instructions?”
“The doctor wants him to rest the ankle and change the dressing on his side twice a day. I have a prescription here for antibiotics. If you see any sign of infection, then bring him back in. Otherwise, the doctor would like to see him again in a week.”
“Okay,” Shaye said. “I’ll call and make an appointment.”
Hustle held in a sigh. His ankle was already feeling better and the wound on his side was small. It had just bled a lot. This was a whole lot of hoopla over nothing, and he was ready to get out from under the watchful eye of adults.
Shaye signed some papers, then thanked the nurse and waved at him. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“About time,” he grumbled.
“You in a hurry to go somewhere?” Shaye asked as they walked to her SUV.
“Anywhere but here—all those people constantly poking at me and smiling all the time. Makes me nervous.”
“I can see where being surrounded by pleasant people who are caring for you might be a strain.”
Hustle looked over at her. “Please. Like you would be any happier with that setup.”
“Probably not, but I am an adult with my own apartment, bed, and cable television subscription. You are not.”
Hustle’s attitude shifted from aggrieved to panicked. “Where are you taking me?”
“Where did you think I would take you?”
“I don’t know. The docks.”
“I see. So Jackson vouched for me, releasing you to my custody, and you think I should just turn you loose back on the streets.”
He felt a twinge of guilt that what he wanted might get Jackson and Shaye into trouble, but there was a limit to what he could live with. “I’m not going to one of them homes. You can take me there, but you can’t make me stay.”