by T. R. Ragan
Hayley pulled out her baton and pushed the button to extend it to its full length. Then she gave the boy a good swat on the ass.
He jumped up, knocking Becca’s cigarette out of her hand. Standing on top of the bed, he turned toward Hayley. “What the hell?”
“Get dressed and get out of here. Now!”
He looked at Becca.
She merely sighed as she climbed out of bed to go in search of her cigarette.
“I don’t know who you think you are,” he said as he slipped his pants on. “I paid good money for tonight.”
“You haven’t paid me shit yet,” Becca said. “You owe me forty bucks.”
“I’m not paying for this bullshit.” He grabbed the rest of his clothes from the floor and headed off, muttering all the way out the door and down the hallway.
Becca pulled hard on the cigarette she’d found, but couldn’t get it to light up again. She crushed it into the ashtray as she glared at Hayley. “What the fuck was that all about? I needed that forty dollars.”
“You can’t shove Hudson out the door while you make a few bucks fucking the ugliest excuse for a man I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Becca did her best to look offended. “He wasn’t that bad.”
“Get your eyes checked. He was uglier than shit.”
“You’re a bitch.”
“And you’re a shitty mother and a whore.”
Becca growled and came at her. Hayley had her naked ass pinned to the floor with a knee to her ribs in two seconds flat.
“Who the fuck are you, Lara Croft?”
“I’m the one who pays you rent every month so you can keep food on the table. If you stop spending your money on alcohol and cigarettes, maybe you could feed your kid and buy him a winter coat that fits.”
“Where is Hudson? Let me go.”
“Not until you agree to never do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Shove your kid outside while you whore yourself out to anyone with a dick.”
“You’re crushing my ribs.”
Hayley let up some, but didn’t let her go yet.
“I’m not going to stop smoking or drinking because some bitch tells me to. And even if I did, the fucking welfare money doesn’t cover shit. I had to borrow five thousand dollars last year to get by and I’ve been paying five hundred dollars a month in interest ever since. I’m fucked no matter what I do.”
Hayley let out a huff as she came to her feet. “That’s robbery.”
“Tell me about it,” Becca said, righting herself.
“I have some money left over from an inheritance. I’ll pay off your debt, but only if you swear you’ll start setting a good example for Hudson.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because that kid of yours deserves better than this bullshit.” Hayley pointed a finger at her. “I want something in writing, though.”
Becca laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“That guy was ugly, wasn’t he?”
It was past midnight by the time Hayley found Kitally standing in front of dive number one on their list of places where Brian used to hang out. Two men were heckling her, calling her babe and pleading with her to go home with them for a night of lovemaking like she’d never experienced.
Kitally didn’t look impressed. Her short, shimmering gold dress and ankle boots made Hayley take a second look. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m hot. Just ask those two.”
“I’ll pass.”
Ignoring the men’s offended looks, the two women headed for the door.
“What took you so long?”
“I had to deal with a problem back home.”
The purple and yellow in Kitally’s rainbow dread glowed neon under the single fluorescent light shining down on them. Kitally pulled a stack of business cards from her leather bag and divided them up. “I made these cards. We can hand them out and leave some on all of the tables before we go. What do you think?”
$10,000 for any tip that leads to the discovery of Brian Rosie’s whereabouts.
“Whose telephone number is on here?”
“I bought one of those throwaway phones. Nobody will be able to figure out where you live, but you’ll be able to answer every call.” She handed Haley the disposable phone.
Hayley slid the phone into her pocket and they stepped inside.
Smoke filled every crevice of the place. The Barking Dog Bar appeared to be half biker bar and half sports bar. There was a big-screen television in every corner of the room and reruns of earlier games were playing. It smelled like greasy food and beer. Every time some guy tried to start a conversation with Hayley, she told him she was there on business and handed him a card.
Kitally tried a different approach. She flirted with a guy, got him to listen to her entire spiel about how important it was that they find Brian, slipped him a card, and then had to fight her way free of him.
After forty-five minutes of this, Kitally searched Hayley out. “This is exhausting.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
Hayley welcomed the fresh air the minute she stepped outside.
“Maybe we could hire someone to do this for us,” Kitally said.
“Give me the cards,” Hayley told her. “I’ll do the rest.”
“Over my dead body,” Kitally said. “I’ll drive. After we’ve passed out every one of these cards, I’ll bring you back to your car.”
CHAPTER 19
Seth had work to do. There were bills to pay. With all the chaos of late, he’d gotten behind. Janelle was working late tonight. He sat in his office and listened to Madeline’s show while he worked. She hadn’t mentioned a stalker in the past three days.
“My name is Sherri,” a caller told Dr. Blair. “That’s not my real name. I don’t feel comfortable saying my real name over the radio. I just wanted you to know I’ve been concerned for you ever since you started receiving those crazy calls.”
“Thank you, Sherri.”
Why was she thanking Sherri? He was the one she should be thanking.
“I wanted to let you know,” Sherri went on, “that you’re not alone. I had a stalker once. I spent years walking around in fear, always wondering when he was going to show up next. It wasn’t easy, but he’s behind bars now. I had to call to see how you’ve been holding up. I’ve been a huge fan of yours for years.”
“I’m glad you called, Sherri. I haven’t wanted to burden my listeners with my problems,” Madeline began, “but the truth is, things have taken a turn for the worse. The gifts have become much more gruesome, but I want my callers to know I’ll be all right. I’m thinking about hiring a bodyguard if things don’t improve.
“And if he’s listening tonight,” Madeline continued, “I want him to know that nothing he does is going to stop me from helping my listeners. I will not be bullied. I refuse to let some maniac ruin my life. We’re going to find him.”
Seth had stopped what he was doing. What did she mean by “we’re”? Was someone helping her look for a stalker he’d already taken care of? He shook his head. The gruesome gifts she talked about must be whatever the creep had left for her prior to his taking care of the problem.
“Just last night a dead rodent was left on my welcome mat. There was a threatening note tied to its tail.”
What was she talking about?
He’d taken care of everything. He’d made the ultimate sacrifice and killed for her—twice! He felt a sharp pain in his chest. He could hardly breathe. Heat rose through his body all the way to his face as he leaned against the car and tried to catch his balance.
Madeline sniffled, only this time he could tell it was forced, the same phony noises he’d heard so many times before. She sounded just like his wife.
Madeline was lyin
g.
Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
“I’ve been in touch with an expert in the field,” she continued. “I was told that the most frequent type of stalking cases involve a previous romantic relationship between the stalker and the victim. In most cases, the stalker attempts to control every aspect of the victim’s life. But I honestly can’t imagine that’s the case with me. My previous relationships have all ended amicably.”
His insides twisted as Madeline talked about how her life would never be the same. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She’d been playing with her listeners’ emotions, all for ratings. She didn’t care about anyone but herself.
Were all women liars—his mother, his wife, and now Madeline?
The muscles in his jaw twitched as he made his way into the house. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, willing himself to calm down. He twirled around and around like a madman. Dizzy, he grabbed a dishrag, covered his mouth and screamed as loudly as he could. Uncontrollable fury pumped through his veins.
He needed to teach Madeline a lesson. Marching through the house, knocking over decorative items as he went, he looked out the window and noticed it was no longer raining. He went to the backyard, walked toward the shed where he set traps every month. As expected, there was a dead rat, its neck caught between the snap wire. Perfect.
Back in the garage, he found some twine. Then he made a note.
Madeline’s lies were about to become very real.
CHAPTER 20
Last week, Lizzy had put an ad on Craigslist to let the world know she was looking for another assistant. Big mistake, since it appeared everyone in Sacramento needed a job. By the time Hayley arrived, Lizzy had already interviewed a dozen people. The first woman she interviewed was passionate about hair. Ever since seeing Lizzy on television, she’d been dying to give her a makeover. The next gentleman she interviewed was seventy-nine. Being a private eye was on his bucket list. The woman who’d just left was in her fifties and would not take no for an answer. She was an albino. With her translucent skin and shock of white hair and light-colored eyes, at first Lizzy thought she might be wearing makeup and a wig. The woman was a little too intense, acting as if she were the only person for the job, her magnitude of energy causing Lizzy to wonder about her sanity. Lizzy assured the woman she would call her in a few days to give her an update, but the woman refused to leave, letting Lizzy know she would be outside, checking out her competition. Every time Lizzy glanced outside her office window, the woman was approaching people walking into or out of the coffee shop down the street or waylaying some random pedestrian.
Hayley entered Lizzy’s office and took a seat in the chair facing the desk. “Who’s that woman out there?”
Lizzy sighed. “Why, what’s she doing now?”
“I overheard her telling someone at the end of the line that the job had been filled and not to bother with the interview.”
Lizzy shook her head. “How many people are out there?”
“At least six now. I think the woman might’ve scared off a few.”
Lizzy quickly filled Hayley in on how the morning had gone before they invited the next applicant to join them. The man who took his seat before them had recently graduated from Sac State. He wore oversized eyeglasses and didn’t have a hair out of place. He was a manager at McDonald’s but was looking for something more exciting.
“Do you have any experience that could be used in the investigative field if you were hired?”
He nodded. “I have a degree in psychology.”
Lizzy saw Hayley roll her eyes.
“My dream is to become a profiler,” he added.
“Déjà vu,” Hayley said under her breath.
Lizzy felt the corners of her mouth tip upward. They were interviewing Jessica’s twin. No sooner had the thought popped into her head than Jessica walked through the door and quietly took a seat in the corner of the room.
Hayley visibly stiffened, but said nothing.
After discovering Jessica might have a few months off before she started training at the academy, Lizzy had asked for her help in finding and training an assistant. She was tired of getting people up to speed and then losing them within a few months.
Hours later, after the last interviewee walked out the door, Lizzy leaned back in her chair and wondered if Jared was right. Maybe it was time to give it all up. It wasn’t as if she was making a real difference in the world. In her wearied state, her thoughts slid to her father and the way he’d looked at her when he’d called her by the wrong name. What she would have given to have her father call out her name. More than anything she wanted to let the past go, but the harder she tried, the more difficult it became. After she’d left the hospital, she’d called her sister and told her the nurses had called her by mistake. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d gone to see him. Cathy said she’d go right down, and knew better than to ask her along for the ride. Even if Lizzy had copped to making the visit to their father, she wouldn’t have mentioned the mysterious Michelle and Emma. Until she’d gathered more information, her lips were sealed on that subject.
Her gaze fell on Hayley and Jessica, each of them flipping through résumés. In such a short time, these two had become her family. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for either one of them.
“You have some interesting candidates,” Jessica said, breaking the silence. “I know I missed a few, but of the applicants I saw, I think the man you were interviewing when I first walked in had the most potential.”
Hayley gave Lizzy a knowing smile.
“What?” Jessica looked back and forth between them. It was all Lizzy could do to keep a poker face. “What did I say?”
“The guy studied psychology at Sac State,” Hayley told her. “He wants to be a profiler. Any of that ring a bell?”
Jessica didn’t take the bait. She just shrugged and said, “What’s not to like?”
In search of distraction, Lizzy glanced outside, surprised to see Kitally talking to the woman outside, the applicant who refused to leave. What was Kitally doing here?
A moment later, Kitally pushed open the interior office door and promptly locked it behind her. She wore skintight purple pants and a sheer red blouse. When she turned toward them, her long, colorful dread swung around with her, falling across her shoulder and dangling over her chest.
Lizzy, Jessica, and Hayley stared at her, unblinking. There was something about Kitally that always demanded a closer look.
“That woman is nuts,” Kitally said as she took the only empty seat available and dumped her bag on the ground.
Lizzy looked at Hayley. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”
Kitally lifted a perfectly groomed brow. “Hayley didn’t tell you I was coming?”
Lizzy leaned back in her chair. “Coming for what?”
“For my interview. Although it seems a little strange I would have to interview for a job we already know I’m well qualified to do. You saw what I was capable of.”
“I suppose you’re referring to the McBane case?”
“Perfect example,” Kitally said. “I had the McBane case solved in fifteen minutes.”
“What about the machete you used on an innocent man?”
“Innocent? Not only did he strike me”—Kitally lifted her chin and pointed to flawless skin—“he’s been living in his aunt’s attic for months. That’s not normal. And the guy must have been on drugs because there was no machete.”
“Can I take a look inside your bag?”
“Maybe there was a machete involved,” Kitally said, “but the truth is, I wasn’t going to use it on the guy. I just needed him to stay put.”
“I need people I can trust and you’re already handing me bullshit.”
Silence.
“OK,” Lizzy said, “let’s talk about normal, since y
ou brought it up. Why would you or anyone else carry a machete, of all things?”
“Are you kidding me? My machete is a workhorse. It cuts through wood as if it was butter. Because of its distinctive curve, the correct term would be parang, not machete.” She shrugged. “No reason to get technical, I guess.”
“Kitally has a knack for this kind of work,” Hayley cut in. “She’s resourceful. She notices things most people overlook. Following someone and watching them for hours on end without being noticed isn’t easy. Ask Jessica.”
Jessica said nothing in response.
Lizzy cocked her head, surprised to see Hayley defend her friend with such conviction.
“Kitally knows this job entails long, tedious hours in the car without breaks,” Hayley added. “She can handle it.”
“And how do you know this?” Lizzy asked. “How long has she been helping you out?”
“Long enough for me to know she’s got what it takes, and not just in the field. She knows her way around databases and knows how assimilate and analyze the data, too.”
“It appears your mind is made up.”
“It would be foolish of you not to give her serious consideration.”
Lizzy looked at Kitally again. “Is it your job to arrest criminals?”
Kitally’s eyes widened. “Is this a pop quiz?”
“Yes.”
“No, it’s not my job to arrest anyone. My job is to gather information.”
“She has a record,” Lizzy stated.
“So do I,” Hayley pointed out.
“She’s been locked up more than once.”
Kitally sighed. “I’m right here, people.”
“OK, Kitally, why don’t you tell us why you were in detention?”
“Don’t tell her a thing,” Hayley cut in. “It’s nobody’s business why you were there.”
“I blew up a car.”
Silence.
Kitally shrugged. “It was an experiment. Nobody died.”
Lizzy crooked her neck to relieve some tension. “You were experimenting with explosives?”