See Them Run (Lucy Kendall Thriller Series #2): A Lucy Kendall Mystery Thriller (The Lucy Kendall Series)

by Stacy Green

Before she could respond, the classy blond Chris and I had tailed to the hotel swept out of her office. Sarah Jones was the owner of Exhale, and she was all sweet fragrance and physical perfection: silky, blond hair shining; skin glowing; nails manicured and perfectly applied mascara. Tall and slim as a movie star, Sarah’s understated beauty made her both classy and intimidating. She never lost her cool, her poise a byproduct of being beautiful in a materialistic society. And the customers loved her.

  “Amanda, it’s good to see you.” Sarah set her business cell down on my counter, its red-sequined case making my eyes hurt. “Thank you so much for staying, Lucy. You can head home now. Just make sure to lock the door.”

  I smiled my sweetest smile. Sarah enjoyed being boss and didn’t like to be argued with. She also enjoyed being the prettiest woman in the room, a fact I’d picked up on during our interview when she’d called my red hair flashy and asked if I’d like a facial. Since my hair and complexion have always been my best traits, I took the hint and made sure to keep my hair pulled back and to be dressed in frumpy clothes. “Sure thing, Sarah. I just have some paperwork to finish up, and then I’ll be out of here. Enjoy your stay, Mrs. Deitz.”

  “Don’t forget the door.” Sarah reminded me before following Amanda. I gave my boss one last smile, the gesture melting as soon as I heard the door shut. I glanced at the clock. Although Sarah never left her room after a client arrived, I’d give her a few minutes just in case she forgot something. She’d taken her phone with her, but it wasn’t the one I was after.

  Sarah had a different phone, one that she used in the back alley when she slipped out for the cigarette she didn’t smoke. The one she texted on when she hurried to her car long after the salon closed. One that she used the night we followed her to the motel.

  I wanted that phone, and I’d take it tonight.

  I rolled my neck, the tendons popping. I had no doubts about searching Sarah’s office. I’d made the decision and wasn’t going back on it. I’d probably get fired, but any information I found would no doubt lead me to my next scumbag.

  Maybe you like killing.

  Chris’s words from last night blasted in my head. I pushed them away. Five minutes had come and gone.

  I gathered my things, dumping everything essential into the big, leather bag I’d recently started carrying around. Now empty except for Sarah and her client, the silence of the spa made me feel like a criminal. I choked back a giggle and slowly made my way to Sarah’s office. Tucked in the far corner of the building, away from everyone’s rooms and stations, it was off limits to most employees. We were told to never enter without knocking, as Sarah needed her private space.

  The lock was easy enough to pick. I checked behind me before slipping through the black door and shutting it quietly. The room was dark with only the light from the street pooling in the window. I flicked the switch, the click spurning my adrenaline. Sarah’s office was sparsely decorated: her computer on the black desk, two stylish but uncomfortable looking chairs, and a fake plant in the corner. A set of shelves was loaded with sample creams, cleansers, lotions, and other work items, but there were no filing cabinets to search. Sarah didn’t like paper she told me during my interview. Her salon was environmentally friendly, and her employees were expected to follow her lead.

  I sat down in her chair and tried to log in, but the screen remained locked. Kelly had taught me a little about password hacking, but nothing I tried worked. I started going through her drawers, but they were littered with lip gloss, sample lotions, and other skin products, and nail files. Sarah had nothing business-related in this desk. That alone was a red flag.

  “Where is it, blondie?” Frustration mounting, I felt underneath the main section of wood, hoping to find some sort of secret compartment or even better, everything I needed nicely typed and tucked in a manila envelope with my name on it in Sarah’s loopy script, along with the mysterious black phone. No such luck.

  “God forbid anything come easily. Just once.”

  No bag of any sort. Her coat hung on the back of her chair. Hope renewed, I dug into her pockets but found only gum and tissues.

  Damnit. I didn’t see any sign of cameras, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. If I got caught, I’d end up fired and losing my in with Sarah for nothing. I rested my elbows on the desk and dropped my head into my hands.

  “Let’s reassess. It’s got to be here.”

  The desk hummed.

  I looked around for the source, but there was nothing on the desk to make that noise.

  I dropped to my knees and checked the underside again. Bare.

  Another hum, this time with a vibration.

  The phone was somewhere in the desk.

  Trying not to be loud, I attacked the drawers again. The wide, thick bottom drawer didn’t pull all the way out. I hadn’t bothered to check why earlier because the drawer was nearly empty. Flattening myself to the floor, I wiggled my hand underneath the drawer. The soft material of my black sweater snagged on the edge, but I kept fumbling around. And then I felt the smooth, thin lines of what was unmistakably a cellphone. I snatched it free of its hiding place.

  Squishing my racing nerves and the desperate desire to look at the phone’s contents, I dropped it into my big bag. I took a deep breath, smoothing my sweater and hair, and then patted my damp forehead with the back of my hand. Calm enough, I exited the office, quietly closing the door.

  Soothing music drifted down the hall from Sarah’s room. A lullaby.

  I shrugged on my coat, shouldered my purse. My desk was nice and tidy, no personal items left.

  I locked the door behind me.

  I hated the early darkness of winter. The lack of sun made me feel run down and perpetually stuck in slow motion. And the bitter cold seemed to seep right through my skin and bones and settle into my very core. Maybe I’ll become a snowbird one day. Disappear to someplace warm, maybe Florida, and lie on the beach all winter drinking fruity liquor and admiring the male scenery. No dark memories lurking around the street corner – just warm sand and the sound of the ocean.

  Bowing my head against the freezing wind, I hurried toward Kelly’s building. Rittenhouse Square looked lonely; it was too cold for the breakdancers and dog walkers. The trees were bare, all of the flowering bushes stripped of their greenery and vibrant blooms. But in a few months, the plants and trees would come back with brilliant vigor, their blossoms likely more abundant than before. If only humans were so lucky. What if we could go dormant for a while, hide away in the earth and replenish, and then come back for a fresh start? Would any of us really do anything differently, or would we just continue on whatever course we’d carved out for ourselves?

  Once, I might have said yes to that question. But not anymore. I don’t believe we ever really change, not in our hearts. Human wants and desires drive us all, and that’s it. But it was nice to pretend we could always do better.

  Kelly buzzed me into her building, and I shivered the entire elevator ride to the fourth floor. Inside her apartment, I hung my coat on the rack and pulled my sweater tightly around me.

  “Your cheeks are red.” Kelly handed me a cup of steaming coffee. “Make sure you put something on them before they crack.”

  In these moments I envied her ability to live most of her life in the confines of this apartment. At least she didn’t have to deal with the arctic blast.

  “I will.” I held the cup to my face, breathing in the warmth, before taking a sip. “Thank you.”

  Kelly sat down in her large, overstuffed chair, folding her legs beneath her. The flat screen television on her crate-style coffee table droned on about a murder in Trenton, New Jersey, forty minutes away. The killer had left dimes on the women’s eyes in some pathetic cry for attention.

  That’s the difference between me and those kinds of people. I don’t do it because I have an urge that must be quelled–at least not a physical urge. Killing doesn’t satiate me, and I don’t want the police marveling and confounded over
my brilliance. I just want to cleanse the filth.

  “Kind of stupid to leave such a brazen calling card,” Kelly said. “Silver is deeply rooted in mythology. He’s only helping the cops out.”

  “Trying to make a statement, I guess. Hopefully he left a fingerprint.”

  She swiveled around. Her wispy black hair contrasted sharply with the white chair, and her tiny frame looked like it had been swallowed by a marshmallow. “So. Did you get it?”

  I pulled the cellphone out of my purse and handed it to her. “It was hidden underneath the desk. I didn’t even try to decode the lock screen. I’ll leave that up to you.”

  Her slim fingers moved easily over the smartphone, trying varying arrangements of numbers. I soon heard the click of the phone giving her access and eagerly leaned over her shoulder.

  “This thing is really well protected,” Kelly said. “It’s got separate passwords for email and Internet access. I can’t even mess with the settings.”

  I slumped against the back of the chair. “Can’t you get anything from it? That’s got to be where she keeps her information.”

  “How do you know she’s the one running this sex ring?”

  “Why else would she have hidden this phone, Kel?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe she’s got another identity. Or she’s having an affair and her boyfriend is possessive. Who knows? I just have trouble understanding why she’s working through this phone when the Dark Web is a lot more protected.”

  The dark web. I hated the term. It belonged in the Middle Ages, especially since many of the things found on the deepest layer of the Internet–the one normal search engines can’t touch–are barbaric.

  “I mean, think about it,” Kelly said. “All you need is software that allows you to access the hidden domains. And then you’re in with your own username and passwords, and the best part is you’re anonymous.”

  I rubbed my temples. Tech-speak usually gave me a headache. “I still don’t understand how it works.”

  “Think of it like this.” Kelly’s hands started flapping around like they always did when she got nerdy. “Normal search engines, like Google or Yahoo, use things called spiders. They crawl around looking for keywords, which lead to active links, domains, and so on. But the sites on the dark web are too hidden for those spiders to find. You need passwords. It’s the same kind of technology that protects your online banking.”

  “And it’s not all child porn, is it?”

  “No,” she said. “Plenty of people just want their privacy. They don’t want the government watching them regardless of whether or not they’re doing anything bad. And I’ve run across watchdogs who try to report these kid porn sites, but it’s impossible to find many of them.”

  My head began to ache. “Why? That’s what I don’t understand.”

  “Because of the encryption and the sheer number of domains. And everything bounces off foreign servers in Timbuktu or some other obscure country. Look, these people spend their lives online and in a half-paranoid state. They’re on the lowest level of the dark web, like the deepest layer of trash at a landfill, and they know how to cover their tracks.”

  “Maybe Sarah’s not smart enough to figure it out,” I said. “Or maybe she is, and we just haven’t gotten that far. But I have no doubt she conducts business on this phone. Maybe it’s just her top layer. We won’t know until we break into it.” I sat down on the couch across from her. “Anyway, you don’t really believe she’s innocent, do you? Not after everything I’ve seen and heard.”

  “By stalking her,” Kelly said.

  “Following her,” I clarified. “Like I’ve done plenty of times on cases. And Chris helped.”

  “But this is different,” Kelly said. “You’re getting so up close and personal. She nearly saw you the other day. And the whole finances thing, calling the credit card companies and fishing for her information?” Her voice rose, adding to my headache. “Lucy, that’s illegal. You could lose your private investigator’s license if you get caught.”

  I laughed. “As if that’s the most illegal thing I’ve done.”

  “You’re deliberately ignoring my point.”

  Of course I was. She wasn’t about to change my mind, and we didn’t have any more time to waste. “Kel, I don’t have any choice. This isn’t just some released offender we’re tracking. We’re trying to bring down a well-organized sex trafficking ring.”

  “But that is your choice,” she said. “You could easily walk away from this. Go back to all the dirtbags we’re keeping track of. If you’re focused on the guys trolling online, we can find them on the dark web. You don’t have to focus on these trafficking rings.”

  She was wrong. Ever since discovering Kailey Richardson on the auction site, my entire focus had shifted beyond the everyday creep. As bad as these creeps were, the big networks were far more sinister. It wasn’t just one sick monster trying to consume a child’s innocence. It was pedophiles helping pedophiles, justifying their behavior as if they had every right to breathe the same air as the rest of us. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. That honor belonged to people like Sarah, who had no physical interest in kids but saw them as a product to capitalize on. If I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have killed her my first week on the job. But that wouldn’t stop her organization. I needed as many details as possible: names of associates, clients, partners, victims. So I endured watching her elaborate act, submitting to her insecurity and allowing her to feel the power she so obviously craved.

  I still planned to kill her. When the time was right.

  I couldn’t muster the words or the energy to explain myself to Kelly. “I can’t walk away from this.”

  “I know, and that’s what scares me. It’s about more than justice now, and I’m afraid that’s going to be your downfall.”

  She was probably right, and I was powerless to stop. “If it is, hopefully I’ll take some of these people with me.”

  She stared at me with those big, doe-like eyes that had experienced too much in her young life. I didn’t want to cause her worry, disappointment, or fear. If I wasn’t so selfish, I’d walk out of her life tonight. Let her find her way without the help of a jaded killer who didn’t really know who she was more afraid of–the people she hunted or herself.

  “Kel, I need your help.” I’d like to say I felt shame for asking, but I didn’t. I only felt desperation and determination. “If you can’t get anything off the phone, I’ll return it and walk away from Exhale, okay? We’ll go back to the repeat offenders, maybe do some searching your way. But I’ve at least got to try to get to Sarah.”

  She sighed and turned her attention back to the phone. “This thing has a really good password protection system. It’s a paid app that provides different passwords for as many programs as you want. I got lucky on the lock screen. But with the email and the other applications? After the fifth failed attempt, it will take a screenshot of my face and then lock me out. You’ve got to go on the website and enter a special pin code to reactivate the phone.”

  I dragged my hands through my hair. “We’ve got to at least try.”

  “Let’s try the calendar. What are the last four digits of her social security number again?”

  “9065.”

  Kelly typed in the numbers. The phone beeped signaling the wrong code. Next were her birth date and then a combination of her bank account numbers. “We’ve only got one try left.” She leveled a hard stare at me. “Have you stolen any other numbers that might be useful?”

  “No. But I did hear her give out a phone number the other day, and it didn’t match the cell she’d given to employees or the salon number. Do you think she’d be foolish enough to use the last four digits?”

  Kelly debated. “If she thinks no one else knows about the phone but her, it’s worth a shot.”

  “5834.”

  She typed in the numbers while I waited with a sinking stomach. “Holy shit, you were right.”

  I jumped u
p from the couch and sat on the arm of the recliner, almost forgetting Kelly didn’t like physical contact. “What do you see?”

  “Appointments.” There were only four in the month of January, each coded the same way: in blue, with letters representing what I assumed were client and victim names, followed by time and place.

  Today, January 10th, was shaded blue. I read with a turning stomach. “R for L. Eight-thirty, Rattner Inn.”

  I took out my own phone and did a quick search. “North Philly, a few blocks off Temple’s campus.”

  “Lovely neighborhood,” Kelly said.

  “Good thing I’ve got my pepper spray and bottle of kill juice.” I dropped the phone back into my purse. “If I’m lucky, I can make it in time.”

  “What the hell?” Kelly jumped up. “You’re not going out there alone at night.”

  “I’m always alone at night,” I countered. “And this is my chance. If I can interrupt this…transaction, I might be able to get all the information I need.”

  “What about this?” Kelly held the phone up. “We can still keep trying.”

  “Until we’re locked out. We won’t get lucky again.” I grabbed my coat off the rack. She stared at me with stricken eyes. “What did you think I was going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But I think you should leave this with the police, Lucy. This is bigger than you.”

  I zipped my coat up to my chin and tugged on my hat. Chasing a creep in this cold sounded as appealing as an enema. “That’s exactly why the police are the wrong people to handle it. It’s happening right under their noses, and they don’t have a clue. Besides, I don’t need a warrant or have rules to follow. My world moves much faster.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “This will be your downfall,” she repeated the words from earlier in a small, broken voice. “Please be careful.”

  I couldn’t allow myself to feel badly about her fear. Intercepting this meeting was the right thing to do for everyone involved, including me. I mustered a smile. “I’m always careful, Kel.”