They walked down the stairs into the basement, a long rectangular space used for church socials and, on Tuesday nights, an outreach program for street youth.
“I wonder what they’re serving. Smells like the chicken enchilada casserole,” Hollie said.
“My favorite meal here,” Grayce replied.
“I can’t wait to try a casserole cooked in a church basement. I’m sure Teen Feed is mentioned in the Michelin Red Guide.”
“What do tires have to do with a casserole?” Hollie sounded exasperated.
“Not tires. Michelin is a French review system that evaluates restaurants. If you didn’t spend all your time on video games, you’d know a hell of lot more about the world.”
Hollie snorted. “So I can dine out on French food?”
Grayce laughed. Hollie had definitely won this round.
In the basement, crowded with the cast-off youths, some high, others slumped in despair, Grayce was hit with the intense suffering of these kids. She took a slow, deep breath and re-focused on her goal in tonight’s visit.
Hollie stopped when she saw the kids standing in line for food, as if paralyzed in an old memory.
James draped his arm around Hollie. “Come on. Let’s pretend I’m your mac daddy.”
Hollie rolled her dark eyes, causing her eyebrow skull-stud to bob. “There’s Tom. I’ll talk with him. He’s one of the few normal kids. And I can do this without my mac daddy.”
“I see Rosemary,” Grayce said. The forty-something woman stood behind the metal counter in a white apron, matching the rest of the volunteer crew. “James, try to act inconspicuous.” Had she really said that aloud? James being inconspicuous was as likely as cows flying.
Grayce turned and headed to the kitchen to find a spare apron. She planned to help out serving tonight’s chicken enchilada casserole, filled with protein, and the carbs craved by the voracious youths.
The slim, animated woman beamed. “Grayce, I didn’t expect you. How are you? How is Hollie?”
“Hollie’s here.” Grayce pointed to Hollie standing with a young man with shocking red hair streaked with blue. “I came to ask you about a patient of mine.”
“Another troublesome cat?” Rosemary was a cat lover who loved to joke about Grayce’s challenging patients.
Rosemary also teased Grayce that her compassion was wasted on silly, pampered cats. Grayce understood the teen’s hurt, it reminded her of her own painful adolescence after her sister’s death.
“My patient is a wonderful cat. Her owner, Angie, is missing.”
“I’m sorry.” Rosemary knew full well what “missing” meant to a young woman.
“Angie’s friend might have been a regular here. Could you look at her picture?”
“Of course.”
Grayce handed the picture to Rosemary who scrutinized each face. Grayce wondered how many times Barbara had been asked to identify a missing kid.
“I know Maddy,” Rosemary said.
“You do?” Hope surged through Grayce.
“She was a regular here until she joined the Marines. Best thing that ever happened for her. When she came back here a few weeks ago and looked like she was using again, it hit me hard. You get so excited when any kid gets off the street and finds a life.”
Grayce touched Rosemary’s arm and spoke softly. “Your job is tough here on the front line. Don’t give up on Maddy. She has a friend who really cares for her.”
Grayce pointed out Angie in the picture. “This is the woman. Angie went missing after she announced that she intended to bring Maddy back from the streets. I’m helping Angie’s mom.”
“You aren’t the first to ask about Maddy. A guy showed me a picture of the same woman. Said Angie was his stepsister.”
“Stepsister?” That Angie wasn’t Hunter’s sister may have explained his lack of concern, but it didn’t explain his lack of compassion for Mrs. Hines.
“I didn’t tell him anything. I don’t give information about clients to anyone, especially to people saying they’re family.” Rosemary’s voice vibrated with intensity. “Our kids’ families can be dangerous to their lives.”
Rosemary, who had never been protected in her life, fiercely guarded the safety of her charges.
“I’ve met the brother. I don’t believe he wishes his sister any harm.” Grayce felt certain that Hunter wouldn’t hurt Angie, but she was still struggling with his suspicious behavior and Aunt Aideen’s prediction.
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t give out information. I tell the youths when someone is looking for them, then they can decide if they want to see them.”
Grayce suspected that Hollie had to hide from her father for her own safety. Grayce would never ask. From her work with abused animals, Grayce had learned that trust was a slow and fragile balance.
“Did Angie come here looking for Maddy?” Grayce was breathless; if so, this might be a real lead.
“Yes, she did. Angie explained that she and Maddy had been in Afghanistan together. And that they were in PTSD group together when Maddy disappeared. I could tell she wanted to help Maddy.”
“Did you know where Maddy was crashing or who she was hanging with?”
“No. And Maddy hasn’t been here since Angie came looking for her, as if she didn’t want to be found. Angie was frustrated by my lack of information.”
Grayce tried not to show her disappointment. “Was there anything else that Angie asked?”
“I did tell her that Maddy came in twice with a guy that I had never seen before. Not one of our regulars.”
“Her drug dealer?” Grayce asked.
“Never know for sure, but he didn’t seem familiar with any of our users. He didn’t approach anyone. Kept to himself.”
“What did he look like?”
“Tall, dark.”
“Anything else?”
If Rosemary said, “handsome”, then Grayce decided she would start to question her own sanity.
“Anything else?”
“He kept scanning the room as if he was looking for someone.”
“Maybe a dealer hoping to score a sale?”
“I don’t know why, but I don’t think so. Maybe it was his beard.”
“He had a beard?” Grayce shuddered as her premonition floated up.
“Never seen anything like it—narrow and went down to his chest. What a bizarre statement. And I’m more than used to bizarre with our kids’ piercings and tattoos.
“Can you describe anything else about this guy? I’m not sure if there’s any connection, but anything leading to Maddy might help us find Angie.”
“He kept his hoodie up so I didn’t see his hair. But I remembered he had sunglasses on, so I never saw his eyes.”
“Would you call me if Maddy or that guy comes in? I’d like to ask them about Angie.”
“Sure. I’d love to help you could find Maddy and her friend.”
“Do you need help serving or cleaning up?”
The youths started to get into the food line. Hollie was still in conversation with her friend Tom. Her body was relaxed, and she was smiling.
“Thanks for the offer. I’ve got tonight covered.”
“I’m sorry that I’m not one of your volunteers any longer, but my practice keeps me pretty busy.” She didn’t add “and my boyfriend.”
“You and your parents have done so much for Teen Feed.”
Grayce’s parents had made a sizable donation in her sister Cassie’s memory.
“Taking care of the kids’ pets when no one else will is really great. You know what their animals mean to them after their families’ rejections.”
“I love helping.”
“You did a wonderful thing by hiring Hollie,” Rosemary said. “Look at her now. She was such an angry woman, and rightfully so.”
Both women turned to look at a laughing Hollie as she punched her friend in the arm.
“Hollie has become an essential part of my practice. Can’t imagine the office without her,”
Grayce said. “Thanks, Rosemary. We’ll be heading out.”
Grayce looked for James who sat at a table with a withdrawn kid in thick glasses and terrible acne. Whatever James had said cracked the kid up.
Grayce caught James’ eye and signaled to meet at the door. James shook hands with the young man and walked over to meet Grayce.
She’d like to acknowledge James’ touching connection to the obviously lonely kid, but James didn’t like any attention to his good deeds.
“I’m impressed with what they do here for these kids,” James said.
“They’re always looking for volunteers.”
James looked quite serious. “Once I get off the housing board, I might start volunteering here. Of course, just to give these kids some fashion tips.”
There was her familiar cynical friend.
James and Grayce waited at the bottom of the steps for Hollie.
Hollie hugged her friend Tom and walked toward them. “Boss. Tom knows where Maddy has been crashing.”
Grayce rubbed her arm with the sudden chill. “What?”
“He crashed there a couple of times, but said the guy Maddy is hanging with is really weird.”
“This is great news.”
“Nice work, kid,” James said. “And I can’t wait to go to this fashionable location.”
Grayce elbowed James in the stomach.
“Where is it?” Grayce asked.
“The condemned house on 65th. It’s all boarded up, but I’m sure I can figure out how to get in.”
“Exactly my kind of Tuesday night—breaking into condemned buildings,” James quipped in his sardonic tone.
“James, you could stay here and clean up.” Hollie raised one pierced eyebrow in question.
“That’s a great idea. We’ll pick you up after we’re done investigating,” Grayce added.
“Very funny, ladies. You know you need me for my fighting skills.”
“Honey, we don’t need you.” Hollie emphasized the “honey” the same way James did. “The boss and I both do Aikido.”
“Let’s face it, ‘the boss’ really doesn’t like doing Aikido, and you’re a fledgling.” James laughed.
James was right. Grayce had learned Aikido as a way of learning how to control and focus energy for her healing work, not for martial arts combat. She might need to start practicing Aikido since her dreams had become darker and filled with gloomy, hateful energy.
“You need me. I’m a manly deterrent.”
Hollie snorted. “Manly? You wore all black to fit in, but your clothes scream money and fashion.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me. And my personal shopper at Mario’s is going to be very happy to have received your seal of fashion approval.”
Hollie sniggered.
Chapter Thirteen
James got into the front seat of Grayce’s Subaru with Hollie and Mitzi in the back.
Mitzi sat alert, looking out the window as if she knew they were on a mission. Grayce drove north ten blocks to a row of condemned houses from the early 20th Century that had long since given up their families to students, squatters and squirrels, and now awaited the inevitable bulldozers that would convert them into public transportation. Although 8:30 at night, the sun was shining. The days were long in Seattle’s summer, making up for the short, dark days of November.
“I hope the house hasn’t been knocked down with the new light rail going in,” James said.
“Nah, Tom said he stayed there two weeks ago.”
“The way Seattle is destroying buildings, I wouldn’t be so sure,” James added.
Grayce parked the car on the street at the intersection of 65th and 15th. “We’re here.”
Climbing out of the car, they had a good view of the old house with the yellow condemned tape.
“This house has good bones. It’s too bad the owner didn’t take care of her. She could still be a beauty. Makes me sad to see turn of the century houses left in disrepair.”
Grayce always appreciated James’ love of visual aesthetics. Grayce missed a lot of the visual because of her absorption with the unseen world of energy. “Let’s just scope it out and walk around the building. I’m not up for breaking in,” Grayce said.
“Look at the garbage,” James said as they went around to the back of the house. The backyard was covered in discarded fast food containers and plastic bags. “There are going to be rats in there.” James visibly shuddered.
Apprehension skidded down Grayce’s spine as if someone were watching her. She turned around a full 360 degrees and didn’t see anyone, but she couldn’t stop her heart from racing.
The back door was partially opened. “I’ve stayed in places a lot worse than this,” Hollie said without any emotion.
Grayce’s stomach knotted with the reminder of Hollie’s past life. Grayce had volunteered at Teen Feed, but she had never really known the dreadful reality of what it meant to live on the streets.
James didn’t make his usual irreverent joke, but remained silent as if he also had taken in the horror of Hollie’s past.
“I’ll go in.” The familiar, tough-ass Hollie was back. “I’m not intimidated by rats.”
“You don’t have to go in. We can yell from the door,” Grayce said.
“If there is anyone in there who doesn’t want to be disturbed, it could be dangerous. People take offense when someone invades their territory,” Hollie said.
“I’ll go with Mitzi. I wore my Lanvin lace-up trainers just for this moment. Remember, I’m the professional here.” James walked toward the uneven steps.
“Professional? A professional fashionista?” Hollie skirted ahead of James.
“Professional architect. But I’m going to come out crying when I see the destruction of this house. Rather like an aging Greta Garbo.”
Hollie rolled her eyes.
Grayce couldn’t stop the feeling of uneasiness—a tingling on the back of her neck, as if someone were behind her. She turned around. There was nothing there but the scattered litter.
“I’ll go first.” James climbed the first two rotting steps and looked down on Grayce and Hollie. “Wait here.”
“I’ll go. I’m the experienced squatter.” Hollie took the steps and stood on the back porch.
James laughed out loud. “Experienced squatter. I’m not going to say a word. My lips are zipped.” He made the zipper motion, right out of first grade.
While the two stood arguing, Grayce with Mitzi walked around them and through the back door. Mitzi’s body had tensed. “Hello, anyone here?”
No answer except the scurrying of small paws.
“Oh, my God. The smell…this horrific smell might kill me.” James stood behind Grayce. “Why did I wear my new Ermenegildo Zegna pants? I’ll never get the smell out.”
Hollie, who followed behind, was prepared to plunge through the debris in her black combat boots. The boots weren’t just a rebellious fashion statement but practical for squatting.
James and Grayce, with their flashlight apps to light the way, entered the dining room. Like the kitchen, there were blocks of concrete spread throughout the grimy room, possibly used for shelves by poor students once upon a time.
Garbage bags, some with refuse, some with belongings, were scattered willy-nilly through the space. Old mattresses were thrown on the living room floor with half-burned candles. A shopping cart sat in the far corner brimming with more of the black garbage bags.
“I’ll check out the upstairs.” The sound of the creaking wood echoed in the space as Hollie ascended the rutted wood steps. She yelled down. “No one here but definitely people have been crashing here. Looks like they cleared out.”
Grayce didn’t question how Hollie could tell that the residents had left the house.
Although the house was uninhabited, Grayce felt the human misery in this empty, depressing space. What hope could you have without a safe, clean place to live?
“I need to go home and shower in gallons
of hot water. I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel clean again,” James whined.
“Hush. Hollie used to live in places like this,” Grayce whispered.
“Boss, I’m cool.” Hollie stood on the last step.
“Well, thank the Lord she doesn’t live here now.” James’ voice was fierce with suppressed emotion.
Mitzi strained on her lead, pulling toward one of the concrete blocks in the center of the dining room. She sniffed at the dark spot on the floor. “What is it, Mitzi?”
Grayce pointed to the reddish brown spot. “Do you think that’s blood on the floor?” A harsh disquiet settled in her.
The dog continued to sniff around the concrete block.
“Might be, but I don’t want to imagine other body fluids. Let’s get the ‘f’ out of here.”
They walked single file out through the kitchen. James led, Grayce and Mitzi followed in the middle, Hollie brought up the rear.
They all breathed deeply the fresh air as they emerged outside. Although the backyard was littered, a breeze brought much-needed relief. The sun was starting to fade into the west.
Grayce leaned over the railing on the back porch, searching the yard and the area beneath the porch. She couldn’t shake her anxiety of another presence.
“What is it, Grayce? You got the heebie-jeebies too?
“Guess so.” Grayce didn’t want to discuss the dark suffering in the house or her concern that someone was watching them. “I’m with James, let’s get out of here.”
Grayce realized that the intensity of the malevolence focused on her was immense; that it was far out of proportion to anything rational. It was insane. Fear sped up her heart—but she wouldn’t tell the others. They would want to investigate, and this was like kids playing with blasting caps. This wasn’t some belligerent squatter that James or Hollie could put in a headlock if necessary—this was someone full of deadly, cold rage. She had to get them out of here. At her side Mitzi growled. Grayce tightened her hand on the leash. “No Mitzi. No chasing squirrels today. Come on.”
They all proceeded out through the gate in the metal fence surrounding the property.
The Grayce Walters Romantic Suspense Series Page 36