by Stacy Green
He reappeared with the wrinkled dress in an evidence bag. I wanted to remind him how much it cost, but I refrained.
“Get everything you needed?”
“I think so.” He made a show of sealing the bag, his gaze flickering to the bed and then back to me, sitting rigid. Pink dotted his cheeks.
And then I knew. Knew how to regain control, how to bring him over to my side. It was as easy as doing what came naturally.
I made myself relax, leaning back on my hands. My hair dangled toward the mattress, a wispy lock grazing my jaw. “Do you really believe I killed Sarah Jones?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he looked steadily out the window. “I think you had a motive.”
“Please, enlighten me.”
“You believed she was trafficking kids. Then she allegedly admitted it to you, makes a deal.” He played with the corner of the bag. “You show up, and she’s been lying. Maybe she’s going to take care of you herself. Then it was self-defense.”
I shook my head. “Then wouldn’t there be blood on the dress?”
“Maybe it’s on your coat.”
“But you don’t have a warrant for that.” I smiled, cocking my head and twisting so that my v-neck collar inched toward my cleavage. “Of course, it’s the same one I was wearing earlier. And no, it hasn’t been dry cleaned.”
Uncertainty flashed across his face. We both knew the fibers, no matter where they were located, weren’t enough. “Why didn’t you tell me you were researching more cases than just Sarah’s?” He changed the subject.
“You didn’t ask. I told you everything I knew about Sarah Jones. And what have you done with it?” With my secrets safe, my anger mounted. This is why I no longer believe in the system: Todd refused to listen, focusing on what society deemed the more important issue. “You know, with everything your brother went through at the hands of Mother Mary, I expected you to be more compassionate toward these kids.”
His nostrils flared, his thin upper lip nearly disappearing. “Do not question my devotion to this city. I handed all of your information to the special victims unit, which is what you should have done instead of taking it to the Senator. You chose him because of some kind of agenda.”
“You’re right. He’s got the power to get things done. You guys have to work around red tape and make sure you give these monsters their due process.”
“I don’t like the way our legal system works, either. But I’m a documenter of facts–that’s my job. To find out the truth and then give it to the District Attorney’s office. I can’t control what they do with it, and believe me, sometimes that’s a hard pill to swallow. But we’re all bound to obey the law. Even you.”
I slid off the bed, my shoes clacking against the wood floors. We faced off, Todd looking ready to run. I stepped closer. He tensed. The knowledge of the power I held over him spurred me on.
“I know you’re doing your job.” I lowered my voice. “And I don’t make it easy. But I’ve been honest with you.”
“You haven’t given me the kid’s name, the one you intercepted. I can’t confirm any part of your story without it. It’s all hearsay against a dead woman.”
“You have the phone now.”
He flushed deep red. “It’s useless. Some kind of protection program had been installed. Whoever the Senator had working on it screwed up, and the entire thing erased its data. We’re trying to recover something off the SIM card, but it’s a fifty-fifty shot.”
Screwed up? Coleman had assured me he had some of the best technical people around. How could they screw up something so basic?
Todd looked down at his feet. His loafers were scuffed, and the brown leather looked worn thin. It’s a wonder he didn’t fall on the ice. “Tell me the kid’s name. Give me something to work with.”
“How is that going to help? I only have a first name, and I don’t know where to find her.”
“Maybe I can. If you’re right, and Sarah was killed because of this sex trade thing, this kid might know something. Something that could get you off the hook.” He failed to hide the pleading note in his voice.
“I thought you wanted to bring me down, Detective Beckett.”
“I want to find out the truth. I want to be trusted with the truth.”
But you’re an honorable man. A good cop. Even if you believed I’d done the right thing in killing the Harrisons and all the others, you’d still have to follow the law. You couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t.
Still, Todd was right. Withholding Riley’s name meant I could be setting myself up for big trouble. But betraying her meant risking the chance at earning her trust.
Self-preservation, my dead sister’s voice whispered in my head.
This would be on my terms. Stepping closely enough to Todd so that our personal spaces disappeared, I gazed up at him with wide and hopefully frightened eyes. “Promise me you won’t arrest her. Think about Justin and what a wrongful arrest did to him.”
The emotional impact was obvious. Todd sucked in a breath and briefly closed his eyes. He bore the same guilt over his younger brother as I did.
“I promise.”
“Her name is Riley, and she lives somewhere in North Philly. This guy Preacher seems to oversee them all, and I’m pretty sure he lives a double life.”
Just like me.
“What do you mean?”
I told Todd about Strawberry Mansion.
“Jesus,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone there.”
“I’m trying to find answers. Sometimes that means big risks.”
He shook his head, half reaching for me, then fisted his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
“I’ll do my best.” He started for the door, pausing to lean against the frame. “Listen, it’s not just me, all right? Exhale had a lot of powerful clients, and they’re upset. Which means they’re leaning on the boss. Get it?”
My smile was brittle. I’d known Todd was omitting something crucial downstairs. “Of course. And that, Detective, is our justice system in a nutshell.” I debated and then figured throwing more chips on the table couldn’t hurt me. “Sarah told me a lot of her salon clients were indirectly involved in the sex trade. Some of them were sent there because of the kids, and they brought along their spouses for pampering and to make themselves look good. You get it?” I tossed his words back at him.
With his back to me, all I saw was the rigid set of his shoulders. “Got it.”
I locked the door behind him. Now that the threat was over, necessity fueled my thoughts. I needed to get to Riley before Todd did and warn her about him. And what the hell did the Senator’s people do to the phone? Even worse, did he know Preacher as it had seemed last night? Had I sent Sarah into a trap?
The only way to find out was to ask Senator Coleman himself.
18
About thirty minutes away from the city, stately King of Prussia was close enough for the politicians to still call themselves Philadelphians but far enough away from the grit and grime to live the quiet life. The drive gave me time to get my raging thoughts straight and form a plan. I needed to stay on the Senator’s good side if I wanted his help. Going at him with anger and threats wasn’t the right approach. He’d want his power to be validated, respected. Sugar gets a person a lot more than spice.
His office was on the second floor. The elevator ride seemed suspended in time, mocking me. Finally the gray doors opened with a ding, and I stepped into the Senator’s lobby.
“Ms. Kendall.”
Seconds passed before I remembered the aide’s name. I gave him the smile I knew men loved. “Jake. How are you?”
He ran his hand through his hair, his embarrassed gaze flickering to his desk and back to me. “You remembered my name.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“A lot of people don’t,” he said. “Aides come and go. There are so many of us, we
blend into the scenery.”
Another bright smile and a lean on the side of his desk. “Sometimes that’s a good thing.”
He looked as nervous as an ally cat. “So, uh, how can I help you Ms. Kendall?”
“Please, call me Lucy. Is the Senator in?”
Jake’s cherub lips hinted at a frown. “Well, yes, but you don’t have an appointment.”
“I know.” I leaned forward as though we shared a secret, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. Jake blushed. “But he and I are working on something very important, and it’s vital I speak to him in person.”
Jake glanced at his boss’s closed door. “I can ask if he’ll see you.”
“Please.”
He picked up the phone, still blushing to the roots of his hair. “Yes sir. Lucy Kendall is here. Do you have time to speak with her?”
I leaned closely again, resting my hands on the desk. My hair brushed against Jake. Even his arms turned scarlet. “You were? All right. I’ll send her in.”
He hung up the phone, smiling weakly. Poor kid probably spent his life feeling invisible. “He’s been expecting you. Go on in.”
The door closed behind me with a loud click. Senator Coleman remained seated behind his impeccable desk. We eyed each other, the silence brewing tension until my chest felt like bursting.
“What happened to the phone?” My calm tone did nothing to ease the intensity steaming the room.
Senator Coleman sighed, reaching for a large, stainless steel coffee mug. Circles smudged the skin beneath his eyes. “Good question. Have a seat.”
I wanted to remain standing, but doing so was a direct challenge that would force this man to look up to me as we spoke, a position he wouldn’t like.
I sat.
“I sent the phone to a former forensic computer specialist. He still consults for the state police, so he’s up on the latest technology.” Coleman took a drink of coffee and then glanced around the room. “I’m sorry, I haven’t offered you any. Would you like Jake to get you some coffee? It’s strong.”
“No thank you. The phone?”
“Yes,” he said. “I don’t understand all the technical details, but evidently a program was set to wipe the phone clean after too many login attempts. He was going to try to recover data from the SIM card, but then I received the phone call from Detective Beckett. I handed the phone over to them.”
I tried not to let my anger bleed into my words. “I knew about the program, and we were able to get around that. I would think any computer specialist would be able to as well.”
The Senator’s smile was wry. “You’d think so. At any rate, I did tell the detective you’d been to see me. Of course I couldn’t withhold any information from him.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. But because the phone is now worthless, I had to give him the name of the girl I intercepted at the Rattner. Without the phone, my story looks like bunk. But I really need to get to the girl first. I don’t want her to think I sold her out, and I’d like to prepare her for Detective Beckett.”
I hoped staying on the Senator’s good side was worth the risk of sharing information. It was my best chance at getting inside information from his task force.
“Her name is Riley, correct?”
My mind turned into a white sheet.
“Don’t worry, I’m not following you.” His attempt at humor fell flat. “My task force received a tip about underage prostitution at the Rattner Hotel, and one of the members was following up when he saw you speaking with the girl. He caught her first name and gathered she was part of a larger group. He also heard you give her your name. That’s the reason I took your original meeting.”
“You told me you weren’t looking into prostitution.” Now the idea of Senator and Preacher choosing Ward 8 as a favorite place seemed even less coincidental. He’d known about me in advance. What else did he know?
“We’re not. But like you, the informant thought there was more going on. You know how it works–a lot of these girls think they’re in love with this guy, he’s all wonderful. And then he either manipulates or forces them into sex for money, and after that he’s got them where he wants them. And the legal line between prostitution and trafficking can be pretty gray. But my guy’s been canvassing the area around the Rattner, and he’s got some leads.”
“Why didn’t you give Riley’s name to Detective Beckett?”
Coleman tapped his fingers on the steel mug. “I felt our task force could handle things better. You know the situation is delicate with these girls. Depending on the vice officer, at the very least, a threat of arrest will be made. She probably won’t give up the pimp, and going to jail won’t help her.” His oily smile returned.
“That’s why I need to find her before Detective Beckett does. He’s a good guy, and he’ll try to do right by her, but it will only make the situation worse.”
“That’s why I planned on contacting you,” Coleman said. “We’ve got a lead on where she’s at, and I think you can help us get close to her. The police might push her farther away, and that’s the last thing we want. This ring, however big it is, needs to be handled with absolute care.”
I suddenly had the very unsettling feeling of pulling the string of Pandora’s box. “Why are you suddenly convinced this is actual trafficking and not prostitution? You said it can be a gray area when it comes to the law. Something changed, and I’d really like to know what. If we’re going to be working together, I think I deserve access to all your information.” The hypocrisy of my request almost made me smile.
Coleman seemed to be deciding how much he wanted to share. “A tip came in. I was just informed about it yesterday, but a couple of days before you came to see me, a young boy no older than thirteen was seen arguing with Sarah Jones and an unidentified black male behind Exhale Salon. It was past midnight, the boy seemed very scared, and kept saying he wanted to go home. He was ushered into an SUV with the man and left. Sarah went back inside.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Why didn’t the person call the police? Why didn’t you?”
“At first the tipster thought she was making a big deal out of nothing. But when she couldn’t let it go, she decided to call us. She’s had some sour dealings with the police and decided the task force’s tip line was the better option.”
I didn’t know if I was mad or understanding. As many issues as I had with our legal system, I knew most cops did their best to do the right thing. But their hands were just as tied by the system as everyone else’s.
“The bottom line is that my task force and its officers have more outreach and more power than the police do,” Coleman continued, echoing my own excuses to Todd. Hearing them from him sounded far less convincing. “The FBI is slammed with more kinds of trafficking cases than they can count. The best thing for Riley and any other children involved is for my people to find them. Bring whoever is behind this to public justice.”
Bells clanged in my head. “You want the glory. This is a multi-state thing, probably the biggest uncovered yet. And you want to be the one who brings them down.”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t you? And it’s an election year.”
No matter the good intentions, men like Coleman were politicians through and through. Not to mention his presence at the speakeasy and the ridiculous incident with the phone. I didn’t know if Senator Coleman was involved with the ring or operating with an agenda I’d yet to uncover, but I knew he wasn’t a man I could trust. “What about justice for Sarah?”
“I’ve given the police everything pertinent to Sarah’s involvement, including your notes. And now they have Riley’s name.” A clang of disappointment in his voice.
“I had no choice now that your people screwed up the phone.”
“I’ve been told you have a rock solid alibi.”
“You checked my alibi when you heard I was a suspect.”
“I like to make sure my associates have clean records.”
I let the information sink
in. Exhale had a lot of powerful clients, one of which was clearly leaning on the Philadelphia Police Department. Senator Coleman’s name never appeared in the appointment book, but what about his wife? She was a highly successful commercial real estate broker, operating under her own name. I just couldn’t remember what it was. I’d have to get Kelly on it, but I doubted she could get into Exhale’s system now.
Good thing I still have a copy of the key to the back door. I turned my attention back to the Senator.
“Fine. But I need to find Riley and fast. Can you help me?”
Ten minutes later, I walked out of Coleman’s office in a daze. The informant–a man the Senator assured me was a highly experienced member of his task force–would call me soon. Together we’d approach Riley. Apparently the informant hadn’t been able to get close to Riley, but he and the Senator believed that with my help, they could.
“Are you all right?” Jake asked shyly. He reminded me of the geeky kid with the heart of gold who was always picked last for gym class.
“Yes,” I managed. “Just processing some information.”
Jake laughed. “Senator Coleman’s good that way. He likes to spring things on you. Like being thrown in with the wolves.”
I tried to smile at the cliché, but it felt wrong. “That’s about how I feel.” I pushed the button for the elevator and willed it to hurry. I couldn’t make idle conversation.
My feet couldn’t move fast enough when it finally arrived. “Take care, Jake.”
“You too, Lucy.” He stood up from his desk, his expression tight with worry. “Remember the wolf likes to hide in sheep’s clothing.”
As the elevator doors clanged shut I acknowledged the shiver trickling down my spine, filing Jake’s words into my growing concern about the Senator’s motives. I’d waded far too deeply into the web of suspicion to change course now.
19
I brought my gun to meet the informant. Senator Coleman had assured me this man was a retired law enforcement officer who knew his way around the streets and was very observant and careful. None of those things made me feel any better about sitting in a car for hours with a cop.