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

by Stacy Green

  I don’t spook easily. But the layers behind her reaction made me jittery. She’d acted as if a wanted criminal had accidentally walked into her precinct, and she was about to make the arrest of her life.

  You are a wanted criminal.

  But she doesn’t know that.

  Right?

  “Lucy.” My name rolled off Todd’s tongue much more warmly than it should have. He stood at the end of the gray carpeted hallway. His charcoal dress pants and black shirt made him blend in with the carpet and cubicle walls. He’d shaved his moustache. New girlfriend or shaving mishap? Either way, the effect was pleasant. His decidedly average face wasn’t suited for facial hair. “How’ve you been?”

  I smiled at the show of manners. “Busy, but good. You?”

  “The same. I can’t complain.”

  A beat of awkward silence. Shuffling of feet–mine, as I waited for his direction, and his, as he let the moment pass in an effort to establish control. I’d come at his calling, and I would follow his lead like a good little helper. I didn’t much care for the idea, and if he were any other cop I probably would have tossed my hair over my shoulder, cocked my hip, and started asking why I’d been called down here so late. But I gave him the lead.

  “Let’s find a quiet place to talk.” He motioned for me to go first, an acknowledgement of not only manners but a subtle jab that I’d been here before in a similar position. I stopped at the same interrogation room he’d used after Chris and I saved Kailey Richardson. Nothing about it had changed. Still a hot box with uncomfortable chairs. Avoiding it would make me look insecure.

  “How’s this?” I asked.

  “Just fine.”

  I sat down first, in the very seat I’d occupied last fall. The leather now had a small tear that made it even more uncomfortable. Crossing my legs, I deposited my bag on the floor, carefully folding my coat over it. I clasped my hands over my knee and gave Todd my full attention.

  “Justin’s doing well.” I stayed in touch with Todd’s younger brother, the boy whose life Mother Mary had nearly ruined. He worked full time and still volunteered at the homeless shelter. Even better, he’d met a girl his age, and their fledging relationship gave the kid a new lease on life. If anyone deserved it, Justin did.

  “We’ve got another hearing next week about getting his full juvenile record expunged. Our attorney is hopeful.”

  “It should be lifted.” Words I never thought I’d say, but I knew they were true. Justin was a victim, not an offender.

  “So.” Todd rested his folded hands on the table. “Sarah Jones.”

  I shook my head, made a clucking sound I hope sounded sympathetic. “What exactly happened to her?”

  “We’ll get to that. First, tell me about your relationship with her.”

  “I worked as a receptionist at Exhale. I didn’t know her much beyond that.”

  “I thought you were a private investigator. Gig not paying the bills?”

  We’d come to the first crossroads. Lying has its time and place, but this might not be the place for it. If Todd thought he had the whole story, I’d have a better chance at not being considered a suspect. And I could use his help.

  “Actually, I was undercover.”

  He cocked his head. “Really? At a spa?”

  I nodded. “I had solid information children were being trafficked out of the salon.”

  His eyebrows shot up. First surprise and then agitation across his plain, pleasant face. “You do know we have a special victims unit that handles that sort of thing.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Why didn’t you alert them? Or me?”

  I caught the brief wobble of disappointment. “Because I wanted to get as much information as possible before I reached out to the authorities.”

  “Your client?”

  “No client. This was a personal job.”

  “You’re the only private investigator I’ve encountered who just goes out and does a job for free.” He jotted something down in his notepad.

  “That’s why I got the job at Exhale,” I said. “It worked out perfectly.”

  “How long did you work there?”

  “Two months.”

  “And did you find any evidence of this supposed sex trafficking?”

  “Yes.” I told Todd about seeing the kids arrive in the late hours, Sarah’s depositing them at the motel, and my decision to go undercover. “Sarah had a cellphone hidden beneath the desk in her office,” I said. “It had more security than the salon itself, but I managed to get some information.”

  Todd grabbed the file he’d been ignoring and flipped through its contents. “Yet there is no record of you turning said phone into the police.”

  “That’s because I gave it to Senator Coleman.”

  He looked like he swallowed a lemon. “Excuse me?”

  “Senator Coleman is dedicated to stopping sex trafficking. I gave him several leads I’d gathered, as well as the phone. He’s got better resources than I do.”

  “So do we. And you gave the phone to a third party when there’s evidence of a crime. What the hell were you thinking?” His feelings were hurt, I realized. Hurt that I hadn’t trusted him enough to call him. He’d given me a pass on the way I’d barged into Kailey’s abduction. I guess he felt I owed him. I struggled to fuse that fact with his threat to investigate my involvement in the Harrison brothers’ deaths. After all, he could arrest me for stealing the phone, and that would definitely mess up my plans.

  “Don’t take it personally,” I finally said. “You’re major crimes, first off. If I’d given the information to the police, mostly likely vice would have taken first shot. I don’t trust these kids to give up their pimps. I thought the Senator would have a better method for handling it. And he’s got the funds. Plus, I stole it. Not exactly the thing to admit to a cop.”

  “You’ve got a real problem with assuming the police are incapable. And that you’re still in my good graces.”

  “It’s not that at all.” Todd’s frustration with me right now wouldn’t earn me any brownie points. “The police are overloaded. And this is bigger than prostitution. Right up the Senator’s alley. I thought the task force was the better option for the kids. They’ve got to come first.”

  Todd traced the skin above his thin upper lip–a habit no doubt perfected with his mustache. “Coming from anyone but you, I’d call that a crock of crap. But you’re twisted enough to think that’s the right way to handle things. So I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you believed you had the kids’ best interests in mind. You know I can arrest you.”

  “I know. I’m just hoping my honesty will appeal to you. I’d just be more paperwork.” Todd rolled his eyes, but I knew I was right. Every cop detested paperwork, and he was no exception. He didn’t want to mess with arresting me for theft–not unless he had ironclad evidence on a bigger charge.

  “The only reason I’m not charging you is because you’re too good of a source if this trafficking thing turns out to be the real deal. And I can get the information from the Senator. Petty theft isn’t worth my time. But I can’t make any promises the next time this happens.” He tapped his pen on the table. “What information did you get off the phone?”

  I’d come prepared. As long as I didn’t give Todd Riley’s name, he wouldn’t be able to track the kid. And I needed an olive branch. “Unfortunately, not much. Sarah used a coding system in her calendar to indicate the kids’ appointments.” My mouth curled up in distaste. “She used the initials of both the client and the kid. The Rattner Hotel is a known meeting place. That’s as far as I’ve got.”

  Todd scribbled the information down, barely acknowledging the phone. “I assume Senator Coleman knows you lifted the phone?”

  I shrugged.

  “I’m surprised he’d take it if it were stolen.”

  “You’d have to ask him about that. But given the information it had on it, Sarah’s right to privacy was probably low on his list.”
r />   “Because you stole it,” Todd said, “the phone is inadmissible in court. Not to mention any information gained from it. This situation seems very familiar.”

  Referring to me and Chris breaking into Mother Mary’s house last fall and busting that case open–with information we couldn’t exactly use. I ignored the bait. “The task force is still going to move more quickly to save kids and catch these people,” I said. “They’re dedicated.”

  Todd looked like he wanted to argue the point, but thought better of it. “I’ll have to contact the Senator’s office about the phone. What did Sarah do when she discovered the phone was missing?”

  “She confronted me.”

  “Is that when the two of you had your altercation?”

  As expected, he’d already interviewed the other employees. “I wouldn’t call it an altercation. We had some civilized words and then took the conversation into her office.”

  “What happened?”

  “I told you once that I know how to manipulate people.” My detachment surprised me. All my life, I’d fought against becoming my mother. But now I’d begun to embrace it without even realizing it. But I use it for good, I reminded myself. I’m trying to help people. “It was obvious Sarah was just a worker bee, and I wanted the top guy. So I conned her into thinking I’d help her blackmail him. We met up at Maisy’s and discussed it.”

  Todd jammed his tongue into his cheek, obviously wanting to rail on me for my choice of action. I appreciated his thinking better of it. “Did Sarah admit her involvement in this alleged ring?”

  “I got the distinct impression she didn’t go into it willingly.” I recounted my conversation with Sarah, including the information she’d given me about Preacher. “Honestly, I think there’s more to her story with him. She might have been in financial trouble, but that didn’t strike me as the reason she started working with him.”

  “So he’s the link between her and the big boss of this trafficking ring?” Todd asked.

  “According to her,” I said. “He recruits the kids and the clients. Preacher was scheduled for a money drop the next day, and she agreed to approach him with me. I didn’t expect her to go through with it. Anyway, he showed up and she didn’t answer. Maybe she called Preacher and tried to play both ends, and it backfired on her.”

  Todd lazily tapped his fingers on the file. “Perhaps. But Sarah wasn’t the victim of a hit.”

  I waited. As we talked, the heat had kicked on, bringing the smell of stale air into the room. The back of my throat itched. I cleared it and wished I had a glass of water. But I didn’t want to look nervous.

  “No signs of forced entry to the salon,” Todd said. “And using your theory, I’d expect Sarah to have a single bullet wound to the head. Easy and out quickly. One second.” He stood and crossed the room, popping his head out of the door to talk to someone. I cleared my throat again and hoped I didn’t have to sneeze. A minute later he sat a bottle of water in front of me and then opened one for himself.

  “The vents need cleaning,” he said. “Every time the thing runs I feel like I haven’t had a drink all day.”

  I caved and eagerly took a long drink. “Why do you say Sarah wasn’t the victim of a hit?”

  “Because–going by what you’ve told me–this Preacher appears to be an enforcer type of guy. If Sarah broke the rules or threatened him, he’s not going to waste time on her. He’d do the job and get out. That’s a hit.”

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I debated. Todd was a good enough cop to hang me with the right information, but I wanted to be cooperative. “Well, I showed up for the money drop yesterday, and I waited in the car, trying to decide if going in alone was the right idea. I wanted to check Preacher out for myself.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Around 4:30. Traffic was thick.”

  “And?”

  “Preacher sauntered to the door and expected it to be unlocked. It wasn’t. He knocked for a while and then left pissed.”

  Todd rolled his eyes, already figuring out where this was going. “Where did you follow him?”

  “The subway. He headed into North Philly. He was greeted by the same kid I intercepted at the Rattner. I also saw her working the street last month. No doubt in my mind he’s her pimp.”

  Todd regarded me in silence, looking for telltale signs of dishonesty. Another reason to tell a version of the truth when it counts: much easier to get away with omitting information than completely altering it. He grunted and slid the file toward me. “Just for the record, I’m not playing the whole cop trick of looking for a reaction when you see the pictures. They’re gruesome, but you can handle it. And showing them is the best way I can explain why she wasn’t the victim of a hit.”

  I wanted to be repelled, to tear up and slam the folder shut. I pinched my inner thigh until tears welled in my eyes and then briefly closed them for good measure.

  “Wow.” I looked at the wall beyond Todd, counting to ten. Then I took a deep breath and grimaced as I looked back at the pictures.

  Sarah had been beaten and stabbed. Most hits were made by some sort of long object and seemed to center on her once beautiful face.

  I covered my mouth with my right hand.

  “As you can see, whoever killed her was pissed. Hit her hard on the face and back of the head, enough to daze her but not to lose consciousness. She was alive when she was stabbed.”

  So she’d suffered, which likely meant her killer knew her. Preacher certainly knew Sarah, and if he thought she’d given him up, he might be capable. Still, the idea felt wrong. This looked more personal. But maybe their relationship was more complicated than I’d realized.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Hopefully there’s some physical evidence.”

  “We’re working on it,” Todd said. “Lots of hair and various fibers, as you can imagine.”

  The air in the room changed. Not the air we breathed but the atmospheric energy that lingered around us, feeding off whatever emotions we emitted. The stuff that caused butterflies in the stomach and put the weight on our shoulders or made the hair on the back of our necks rise. I took another drink. “Tough to use hairs found at a salon.”

  His mouth twitched. “A long red hair was found near the body.”

  I glanced back at the pictures. Sarah lay prone less than a foot away from the receptionist’s booth. Given the blood on the corner of the booth, the killer had probably slammed Sarah’s head against it. “I imagine so. That was my work station until a few days ago. I shed.”

  My explanation didn’t seem to affect him. “We’ve got witnesses who claim to have seen you two arguing pretty heatedly at Maisy’s. Sounds like things might have gotten a bit physical.”

  “Sarah was leaving, I grabbed her wrist to make a point,” I said. “She told me to get my hands off her, and I did. That was the extent of it. Like I said, she agreed to stand up to Preacher with me.”

  “I see.” He stared down at the file as if the grisly photos would start talking to him. “Coroner puts her time of death as early Friday morning. Where were you between the hours of 4 p.m. and 7 a.m.?”

  “At a friend’s.” Lie. This one so easily told it came out before I considered it.

  “I need a name.”

  “Chris Hale.” Stupid, stupid. Chris would back me up, but his high rise in Center City had about a dozen security cameras. Todd would know I’d lied in a couple of days, if not earlier. Too late now. Chris and I would have to think of something better.

  “Really?” The detective laughed. “Seems like you’ve used Chris as an alibi before. He wasn’t your boyfriend then, either.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend now.” I didn’t elaborate. Todd didn’t press me.

  “I’ll have to confirm that with him.”

  “He’s on shift right now.” Chris was a paramedic with the Philadelphia Fire Department. If I got lucky, he would get my cellphone message before dispatch put Todd through to him. “Until midnight, I think.�
��

  “Good to know.” Todd put his elbows on the table, letting his chin rest on his interlocked hands. He stared back at me the way a cat watches an intruding mouse, biding its time until the mouse got close enough. Then the cat would launch its attack.

  “You know I think you’ve got a screwed up sense of justice,” Todd finally said. “And someone like Sarah is right up your alley.”

  I said nothing. Todd had gotten everything he would from me. He realized this and nodded. “I’ll check into this Preacher, see if I can get some information from SVU or Vice. But in the meantime, I’m just going to be honest: you’re on the suspect list.”

  “I’m sure you’ll eliminate me quickly.” I reached for my things, making sure to stuff the water bottle into my purse. “Did you need anything else?” Todd wouldn’t put much effort into finding Preacher. He already believed–and rightly so–that I’d killed Brian and Cody Harrison for molesting kids. He’d love the chance to hang Sarah’s murder on me. Then he’d be able to have the other murders re-opened.

  Todd shook his head. A lock of his hair brushed his eyebrows. He’d grown it longer, I finally noticed. I liked it. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Forcing my mouth into my tightest smile, I nodded and then escaped the room. Head up and calm, I kept my pace even as I walked through the station. Cold night wind smacked my cheek until I fell into my car seat. One glance at the station told me Todd’s department had a full view of the parking lot. My fingers itched to call Chris, but I waited until I merged into traffic.

  His voicemail picked up immediately. “It’s me,” I said. “I just lied to Todd Beckett and told him I was at your place Friday morning between 4 p.m. and 7 a.m., So yeah, call me.”

  My stomach growled. I hadn’t gotten around to eating any of my mother’s subpar dinner. But dinner would have to wait. I needed to find out what Kelly had on Preacher. Hopefully her kitchen was stocked.

  12

  Kelly had given me the code to her building a long time ago, but I still buzzed to let her know I was coming up. Although she’d made huge strides since I’d first met her as a badly abused child, Kelly still had serious social anxiety. Showing up and banging on her door felt like tormenting her.