by L. K. Hill
He glanced down and away again. She stepped up and put her face under his. “Please. I don’t understand. I need to understand.”
He held her gaze a moment. A cool wind—rare for Abstreuse—blew through the alley, knocking Kyra’s dark blond hair off her left shoulder and blowing it out in a straight line past her right. Dellaire’s dark hair mirrored hers, fluttering off his shoulders and dancing in the wind. He reached up and put his fingers into the flying stream of her hair, letting it fall through them as he moved his hand outward. He dropped his hand to his side, his eyes studying the wall near the ground behind her.
“I feared he’d done to you whatever he’d done to his other victims in the Mire. That if you didn’t get medical attention quickly, you’d share their fate. I took you to where you’d be found and taken to a hospital quickly.”
“Did you call 911?”
His shifty eyes were all the answer she needed.
“And did you go back for him?”
“He'd already gone. This man hasn't stayed beneath the radar so long by being stupid.”
Kyra stepped back from him, feeling suddenly awkward. “So what now?”
"You tell me."
Kyra frowned. "Nothing's changed. I still have to find my brother."
Dellaire scoffed. "You'll truly give your life to save a low life from foolish choices."
"He's my brother."
"You can't save everyone."
"I only want to save him."
Dellaire paused. She felt his frustration. "This search will shatter you eventually."
"I won't give up looking. I'll have to find a new disguise and start all over. "
"I've told you that won't help you," he said sharply.
"Why?" Kyra stepped closer to him again. He stiffened, as if uncomfortable with her proximity, but didn't back away. "Do you know where Manny is? Please, tell me if you do. You clearly don't want me here in the Mire. The faster I find my brother—"
"You know it doesn't work that way," he said firmly.
Kyra sighed. She supposed she did. Mobsters didn't give out valuable information for free. Dropping her head to study her shoes, she wracked her brain for some way to make him talk.
"Ms. Roberts."
She raised her head.
"In all these months in the Mire, you've found no sign of your brother. Correct?"
Kyra hesitated. "I…saw him in the Carmichael District. In that godless warehouse."
Dellaire nodded knowingly. "Even so. You've heard nothing. No whispers. Do you ask around about a man of his description?"
"Of course. That's all I do."
"Then you should have heard something. In another three months, you'll be right back here again. You have all the pieces you need to figure out where he is. You must take a step back and build the puzzle. All you've done so far is grasp at pieces without looking at the entire picture."
Kyra stared at him, wondering who he really was, and what his motivations were. He was the last person in the world she ought to trust, but something made her want to anyway.
"The method you're using now, this flimsy disguise? Most Mirelings see right through it, even if you don't realize it. You won't find your brother this way before this way of life kills you. It will eventually, you know."
She didn't answer. He sounded like Gabe now.
"I've got to go," he said. "You too."
"Wait."
He paused again.
"Will you help me with something? I can't walk very well. I think I twisted my ankle. With one side of my face swollen, I can't see well either."
"You aren't far from your hotel."
She shook her head. "I don't want to go there yet. I won't be coming back to the Mire in this disguise, Dellaire. I need to see a friend first."
He hesitated. "I could call you a car."
Kyra shook her head. "I'd rather not draw that kind of attention given what just happened. Besides, I need to move through parts of the Mire that are too narrow for cars."
He shook his head. "You're injured. It's not a good idea."
"That's why I need you to help me. Please?"
He hesitated, then stepped toward her. "Where?"
*******
Ten minutes later they approached Sadie’s apartment. Kyra prayed Sadie hadn't left yet. They'd arrive right around the time Sadie usually left for work. If she’d left early, they might have missed her.
Usually when Kyra came, at least a few people—mostly men—sat in the stairwell and hallway. They always leered at her, sometimes making perverse comments, but due to her confident walk, and by now them having grown used to seeing her, they rarely bothered her.
No comments surfaced tonight. One look at Dellaire and most of them shrank back. Those sitting in the way pulled knees into chests to allow them to past. Whether because they recognize Dellaire—most knew him as Nickel—or simply because he looked imposing, Kyra couldn't have said.
When they reached Sadie’s door, Kyra knocked. “Sadie,” she called through the door, as she usually did. “It’s me.”
To Kyra’s relief, she heard shuffling on the other side. Sadie hadn’t left yet.
The door opened with Sadie wearing a small smile. It disappeared instantly, replaced by fear, when her eyes fell on Dellaire. They widened farther when they registered Kyra’s swollen face.
“It’s okay, Sadie. He’s a friend. He saved me from…” she indicated her face. “This. Can we come in a minute? It’s important.”
Sadie looked worried, but nodded and held the door open wider. Dellaire helped Kyra limp inside. Once the door shut, Sadie rushed to stand in front of Kyra. "You're hurt. What happened?"
"Josie attacked me."
Sadie gasped. Her eyes slid sideways to Dellaire.
"He helped me, Sadie. Look, Josie's dead—" Sadie gasped again. "—And I won't be able to come back for a while, if at all."
A deep sadness—Kyra thought it might be loneliness—filled Sadie's eyes. "You're leaving?"
"I have to. I could be killed if I don't."
Sadie hung her head. "Okay."
"Sadie, why don't you come with me?"
Sadie barked a laugh. "And do what? Come on, Supra. You know I can't."
"Sure you can. You've been saving, and I can help you until you get on your feet."
Sadie looked uncertainly from Kyra to Dellaire, as though trying to figure out if Kyra's offer were a joke. "Where…would we go?" she asked.
Shit. The answer to that question was the one sure to freak Sadie out. "I…have a friend—"
"What friend. No, Kyra. I'd have to bring Annie. No shady dealers or men like Josie."
"No, not like them, Sadie. He's a cop—"
"What? Are you one too?"
"No. Please, Sadie. Breathe. I can get us a hotel in a better part of town."
Now Sadie looked downright confused. "Why would you do that?"
"I—" Kyra sighed. "I need to tell you something, Sadie. You aren't going to like it. Try not to freak out, okay?"
Sadie looked anything but okay. Her entire body tensed with fear and she looked ready to bolt.
But Kyra had begun. She couldn't very well stop now. She reached up and pulled the black, spiky wig off her head. She'd knotted her hair as best she could without anything to secure it and replaced the wig without clipping it into place. When she slid it off, her real hair fell softly around her shoulders.
Sadie gaped at her. "That's a wig?" She backed away from Kyra and Dellaire, who watched the scene calmly from his place against the wall.
Kyra put her hands up. "Yes. My name's not Supra. It's Kyra. I've been here looking for someone who disappeared into the gang."
"What?" she screeched. "So you're a narc. An undercover. Who's this guy?" She flung her hand in Dellaire's direction. "Your Vice buddy, come to arrest me."
"No. Sadie, listen to me. I’m not trying to get you arrested. I'm trying to help you. I've been working with the cops to find this killer. To get him off the s
treet and keep you girls safe."
Sadie's face darkened at the phrase, 'working for the cops.'
From the back room came Annie's tiny toddler cries. The baby's crying seemed to solidify Sadie's resolve. The fear didn't melt completely from her face, but anger and determination eclipsed most of it. "Get out of my apartment."
"Sadie, please—"
"No! You're a liar and I don't want you here anymore. Get out! Now! Don't come back!"
"Sadie, this killer is still on the loose. He's hunting women who do what you do. I don't want you to die. Bring Annie. I'll take you both with me. You won't be a potential victim anymore."
"Why the hell would I trust anything you say?" Sadie whirled away, marched into the back room and slammed the door. Her muffled voice came from beyond. "Get out, Supra!"
Kyra moved toward the door, but Dellaire grasped her elbow. "We're done here. We should go, before she wakes the entire building."
Kyra's chest ached. She looked at the bedroom door, then back at Dellaire. "One more thing."
He pressed his lips together in irritation, but didn't try to stop her when she moved forward again.
Kyra walked softly to the bedroom door and pressed her palms against it. "Sadie," she said, loudly enough to be sure Sadie would hear. "I'll go. If you ever need anything, go to the precinct that's just outside the west end of the Mire. Ask for me or Detective Nichols. Please, please don't work the streets of the Mire, Sadie. And don't use Mrs. Rosary as a sitter. This killer is stalking you girls. He even knows which of you has kids."
The silence from beyond the door told her nothing of Sadie's reaction. Kyra knew she was being insensitive. The best she could hope for now was to scare Sadie into being safe.
"I want you and Annie to get out of here. If you change your mind, come find me. I'll always help you."
She wanted to say more, but couldn't think of anything. Turning, she limped back toward Dellaire. He met her half way and helped her from the apartment.
"Did you truly expect anything different?" he asked, as they moved back into the Mire.
Kyra didn't answer. A deep melancholy and dread for Sadie and Annie settled on her. She knew there was nothing she could do. Sadie wasn't wrong. Kyra had lied to her from the get-go. She couldn't expect trust or friendship in light of that.
They passed through familiar alleys of the Mire as they headed back toward Kyra's hotel, Dellaire letting her lean on him as they went. Her ankle throbbed and the side of her face Josie had hit felt like a furnace.
A sudden flashing blue light caught her attention, and even Dellaire stopped to look. The lights of a police car glimmered several streets away. Foreboding even deeper than what she'd felt for Sadie entered her chest. She turned back toward Dellaire, and they shared a look.
Without a word, he tugged her forward and they began moving again. She wondered if Dellaire thought the same thing she did: perhaps Gabe had found another body.
Less than an hour later, they reached the edge of the Mire. Her hotel sat only a few blocks away. Dellaire wouldn't want to be seen in the open with her. She was on her own from here.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me," he said sharply. "Go heal." He disappeared into the shadows.
Chapter 19
Shaun paced the length of Kyra's hotel room, looking anything but happy. "Are you sure?" he barked into his cell phone.
Kyra sat cross legged on one bed, while Gabe, studying her worriedly, sat on the corner of the opposite one. She’d told them everything. Josie. Dellaire. Sadie.
“Uh huh. Okay," Shaun scowled. Never a good sign.
Shaun had insisted she go to the hospital to make sure she didn't have a head injury. Her face had swelled up like the loser in a boxing match, so Shaun wanted to document the injuries. The police photographer took pictures, and the doctors poked and prodded. After several hours and tests, the doctor said she showed no signs of a concussion and allowed her to leave.
“All right,” Shaun finally muttered. “Keep me apprised.” He hung up.
“What is it?” Gabe asked, watching Shaun closely.
Shaun sat back down in the chair across from Kyra and leaned his forearms on his knees. "As soon as you called us, I sent people into the Mire to get Josie’s body. The place it happened is difficult for us to reach by cruiser.”
Kyra nodded. The outer parts of the Mire, where most of the prostitutes’ bodies were dumped, consisted of alleys barely wide enough for a car to pass through. More than three levels deep, the alleys only stood wide enough for two people walking abreast. No way a cruiser, much less coroner’s van, would get back there.
“We sent in Undercovers to find the bodies and assess the situation.”
“And?”
“They’re sure they found the spot. Blood everywhere. What looks to them like innards sprayed around. Voids in the gore where the corpses fell. The bodies are gone, though. Without them, there’s no point going in. The blood we recovered can’t tell us anything more than you already have, and it’s too dangerous for my people.”
Kyra nodded numbly.
“Any idea who took the bodies?” Shaun asked.
Kyra arched an eyebrow, surprised. He must have his own theories. “Maybe Josie’s people? He did have loyal employees.”
“Could they have gotten there so quickly?” Shaun asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Depends on who he told and what he told them. Maybe someone came looking. Or maybe someone watched, then went back to his place to report what happened. Even those who feared Josie might do it if they thought it’d get them some free product.”
“If that’s the case,” Gabe said grimly, “Supra already has a hit out on her.”
Kyra rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Yeah. I know.”
“We can’t be sure either way,” Shaun said firmly, “but you have to retire Supra. You can’t go back out into the Mire with that alias.”
Kyra nodded. “I won’t need to anyway,” she said quietly.
“Good,” Shaun said. Gabe looked like he heartily agreed.
“The other option,” Kyra said. “Is Dellaire took the bodies.”
Shaun regarded her calmly. “Why would he do that?” It didn’t sound so much like an inquisitive question as a statement designed to tease out Kyra’s thoughts.
“Even though Josie didn’t work directly for Dellaire—far from it—the mob still controls the gang, so technically Dellaire murdered three of his own minions.”
“Do you think he’ll be disciplined for it?” Gabe asked quietly.
Kyra shook her head. “I doubt it. He’s the Underboss. Josie stood too low on the hierarchy, and had a thousand enemies. No one will bat an eye at his death. Dellaire strikes me as a clean-up-your-own-mess sort of guy. Him dragging the bodies away is a real possibility.”
“Dellaire is intelligent,” Gabe said quietly. “It’s impossible that he didn't leave DNA at the scene, from what you described. Epithelials on the guy whose neck he broke. Maybe some of his own blood. The mob is good at making things disappear. They know it’s nearly impossible to prove a murder without a body.”
She sighed. “What now?”
He shrugged. “Not much to be done. If not for you, we wouldn’t have even known this took place. It’ll go into a file, but not one that will be heavily investigated, unless something else relevant surfaces.”
Kyra nodded, feeling exhausted.
“Kyra.”
She raised her eyes to Shaun again.
“You told Dellaire you would adopt a new disguise and start again. Did you mean it?”
Kyra considered the question. Starting over with a new disguise made her want to cry. She didn’t know if she could bear to go back to square one. “I don’t know,” she said dully. “I’m not even sure if I meant it in the moment. I wanted to rebel.”
Relief flitted across both men's faces.
“Not that I’m totally against it,” she added quickly, and their mouths tightened in s
ync. “What Dellaire said. He knows where Manny is, or at least where I should be looking for him, and he doesn’t want to tell me.”
“He wants you to figure it out,” Gabe said.
“Which is irritating,” Kyra said sourly. She sighed, moderating her tone. “What he said about not being able to find Manny this way….” She trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“What do you think he meant?” Shaun asked quietly.
Kyra glanced from him to Gabe, having a feeling they already knew the answer, but wanted hers. “Manny is in the mob, not the gang. Higher than I ever thought he’d be.” Her voice grew thick and her chin trembled at the implications. Especially with what it might mean for him being at the warehouse. Gabe, looking sorrowful, dropped his head. She sniffed and cleared her throat. “Phil said Manny didn’t look good. Strung out, like he was barely holding it together. I assumed….” She rubbed the moisture from her eyes with her thumb and index finger.
“You haven’t heard from your PI friend?” Shaun asked quietly.
She shook her head. “No. It’s been more than three days, and he hasn’t called me.”
“Did you call him before going into the Mire tonight?” Gabe asked.
“I left two messages. He hasn’t gotten back to me.” She held up her phone as evidence. After telling the guard to call Gabe, she’d checked her phone for messages from Phil. What Dellaire said gave her hope that maybe Phil's mob contact would have success finding Manny. Yet her voice mail proved ominously empty.
“Whatever I end up doing next is going to require a lot of planning. More than only a few hours or days. I won't be going back into the Mire for a while at least.”
Shaun nodded. “I’d like to move you tomorrow, or as soon as we can manage it.”
Kyra frowned. “To another hotel? Why?”
“If you’re no longer going back and forth from the Mire, perhaps an actual safe house would be best. It'll be easier to protect you there. We still have this killer to deal with.”
Kyra wanted to argue. The idea of being confined to a safe house made her claustrophobic. Still, she felt exhausted, out of arguments, and owed these two good men some compliance. “Whatever’s easiest,” she murmured.