Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series)

by Kristine Mason

  Chapter 11

  WITH HER PURSE loaded with a map, snacks, a couple bottles of water and a can of pepper spray, she strolled through the less desirable streets of Chicago. She wasn’t afraid of being attacked. God was on her side and His angels hovered around her, their strong wings gently flapping and guiding her along her chosen path.

  Since moving to Chicago and settling into their apartment, for the past week, Wayne had been under the impression that she’d spent her days searching for a job. To keep him off her back, she’d pick up applications and fill them out, then leave them on the scratched kitchen table that had come with their furnished apartment. So long as Wayne thought she was looking for employment, he’d leave her alone and she could go about her business. As it was, he’d hardly spoken to her since the day they’d left Missy Schneider’s house. He’d even taken to sleeping on the couch, as if lying with her was a horrible, disgusting thing.

  While their sleeping arrangements bothered her, she knew in her heart how to make things right between them again. She knew what they needed and that was for them to be a family. Now all she needed was the baby.

  With a wistful sigh, she shaded her eyes from the mid-morning sun, then crossed the street. According to the map, a few blocks away from where she walked were pockets of neighborhoods where the downtrodden lived. When she’d originally begun her search, she’d chosen the nicer, wealthier areas of Chicago, and would also go to the park, looking for mothers-to-be playing with their toddlers. But going after one of those moms could bring unwanted attention to her and Wayne. The wealthy would be concerned if one of their own had ended up like Missy, but would they care about the lazy, thieving women living on welfare and taking advantage of the system?

  Because she was a good Christian, she cared about all of God’s children, but she did have a problem with those who were lazy. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins. She and Wayne had always been hard workers and had never depended on the government or anyone else for financial help. They’d paid their own way and made the best from what God had given them. Right now, God had given them a meager, two bedroom apartment. Aged, the furniture dated, but now thankfully clean thanks to her, and not in the best part of Chicago, she would have preferred something nicer. But the cost of living here had been more than either of them had anticipated. To keep within their budget, they’d suffer through and, hopefully, would be able to afford to move once Wayne picked up a few side jobs and they were able to save more money.

  Yes, the lazy were, to her mind, just as bad as the greedy. Those who were filled with greed might work hard to maintain their gluttonous, lustful ways, but the lazy took advantage of those who worked hard. She never understood how a woman could pay for groceries with food stamps, yet she carried the newest cell phone and spent money on long, fake nails. What was worse, their society accepted and encouraged this behavior. She didn’t. She also believed that women who lived off the system, who took care of themselves before their children, didn’t deserve to have a child. What life could they give them? Wayne had once told her that one in five children went to bed hungry. That statistic had also claimed that the households those one in five children lived in had cars and cable TV. What that showed her was people were selfish and self-centered. They focused on the material things, rather than taking care of their families.

  She and Wayne were more than capable of taking care of their family and giving a child a happy, healthy home. Their current apartment was no place to raise their son, but it would work for a newborn. Once the baby grew and started walking, they’d hopefully be ready to leave Chicago and move to where they could buy a house with a nice size property their son could run on, in a neighborhood where society’s lazy misfits couldn’t afford.

  She pictured it now. A lovely, modest home in the suburbs. Maybe a white picket fence, a cute little puppy for Elton to play with, picnics on the lawn and—

  Her stomach tightened and tingled as a ray of light fissured through the four story buildings lining the alley to her left, landing directly on a young, pregnant woman sitting on the sidewalk. Just like with Missy, the light served as a beacon, it called to her, had her feet moving of their own accord.

  With each step she took, she couldn’t help remembering Missy. She’d had her hands inside another person’s body. She’d shoved Missy’s organs aside, felt the warmth of her blood and her life’s energy through the latex gloves. Most of all, she’d been the first person to touch the baby Missy had carried in her womb. Feeling his little head and shoulders, experiencing the power and opportunity of bringing a life into this world was something she would never forget. Too bad God had already taken that precious boy. But as she slowly approached the pregnant woman, she knew in her heart, in her soul, that He was about to give her another.

  “Hey, there,” she said with a smile and stared down at the young woman. “Are you doin’ okay?”

  Chloe Young rolled her head to the side and looked up at the woman standing in front of her.

  Rainbows and sunshine.

  She smiled and loved the way the sunlight spilled around the woman’s curly, blond hair. When the woman’s grin grew, her full cheeks revealed a big set of dimples, and her blue eyes glittered, reminding her of the way the sunlight might dance along the ripples of the bluest oceans.

  The woman crouched her plump body in front of her, but kept her large purse slung over her shoulder. “Honey, are you okay?” she asked again, with a hint of a southern drawl.

  Chloe was more than okay—for now. Thirty minutes ago, when she’d been forced to take it up the backside by a guy she’d discovered sold heroin, she’d been miserable. The pressure had been too much, and had made the baby inside her squirmy. But after the guy…what was his name anyway— Yes, that was it. Spencer. After Spencer had finished, then given her what she couldn’t afford to buy, she’d been a-okay. The blackness that had been surrounding her for nearly a week had disappeared. The rainbows and sunshine had returned. With as sweet and innocent as the woman in front of her looked, she was expecting unicorns or other magical creatures to suddenly fill the alley and carry her away to a better place. A place where there was no hunger and no baby. A bed would be nice, too.

  Rainbows and sunshine.

  “I’m all right,” she finally said, her words thick, her mouth dry. She licked her lips. Damn, she was thirsty.

  “You don’t look like you’re okay,” the woman countered, and glanced to Chloe’s stomach. “How’s the baby doing?”

  Oh, great. A fucking do-gooder. She tugged at her thin jacket and tried to hide her belly. “It’s fine. Maybe you should go now.”

  The woman’s smile didn’t falter. “Maybe you should let me help you. I’ve been pregnant, I can’t imagine sitting on hard concrete is all that comfortable. Why don’t you come with me? Sit in a booth at the diner I saw just down the block. We can have breakfast and—”

  Chloe shook her head and eyed the woman’s khaki capris and loose, crew neck, pale pink shirt. Her clothes weren’t anything fancy or expensive, but they looked new and not something bought at a thrift store. “You don’t belong around here. If you’re not careful, someone is going to take that purse from you—maybe worse.” Yeah, she was uncomfortable and hated sitting and sleeping in the alley she’d called home since Roman had booted her out. But there was no way in hell she’d go anywhere with this woman. Although she didn’t like what she had to do to find more H, Spencer had said he’d hook her up with more, maybe tomorrow or the next day. She couldn’t pass up a sure thing, and she couldn’t go see him again if she was confined in a shelter.

  “Oh, I’m not worried,” the woman said with another dimpled smile. “God is with me.”

  Shit. The woman was a fucking Bible-buster. Fuck that. “Yeah, well, let’s see if you’re singing God’s praises after you get mugged or raped.”

  “I can understand why you might turn away from Him.” The woman glanced to her hair, which Chloe knew was filthy and matted. “How long have you been l
iving on the streets?”

  “A week.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s a long time to go without shelter, even if you weren’t pregnant. Where were you before that?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I understand. You don’t know me, and I’m sure it’s hard to trust people when you’ve been living the way you have. I’m Heather.”

  “Chloe,” she responded.

  “Please, let me help you, Chloe.”

  “Nope, you and God can go on your merry way. But thanks for stopping by.”

  With sympathy in her eyes, Heather frowned. “If you won’t let me buy you breakfast, maybe you’ll take these.” She set her big purse on the concrete, took out a couple of water bottles, a banana, a granola bar and a small bag of pretzels, then set them in front of her. “I know it’s not much—”

  Chloe quickly scooped up the food and water bottles, then shoved them in her backpack. “I’ll take it,” she said, and met the woman’s eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” Heather said with a smile and stood.

  For the first time in years, her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. It had been so long since she’d properly thanked anyone for anything, she’d forgotten how to show her appreciation or proper manners. “I…thank you.”

  Amusement shown in the other woman’s eyes. “See, maybe you shouldn’t discount God after all. He knew you were thirsty and hungry, and He led me to you.”

  Bullshit hovered at the tip of her tongue, but Chloe kept her mouth shut. Heather was kind, maybe a little goofy with all of her talk about God, but she also couldn’t discount the fact she was thirsty and hungry. Other than her daily dollar cheeseburger from McDonald’s, she hadn’t eaten anything else. In order to conserve the last few dollars she had left, she hadn’t even bought a pack of cigarettes or the Mountain Dew she’d been craving all week. The food Heather had given her wasn’t much, but more than she could afford.

  “Whatever,” Chloe said, and when a car horn blared, she looked down the alley to the street, just as two men started arguing and swearing at each other. When she shifted her gaze back to Heather, she swore if she didn’t stop looking at her as if she were pathetic and sad, the woman was going to chase away her rainbows and sunshine. That couldn’t happen. Not yet. It could be a day or two before Spencer gave her more heroin, and she only had just enough left for one more high. “You better get going. Like I said, this isn’t a place for you.”

  Heather let out a gusty sigh. “Then you take care of yourself, Chloe. That baby, too. Do you know when you’re due?”

  Her stomach grumbled and the baby kicked. She pulled the pretzels from the backpack and opened them. “Something like August eleventh.”

  The woman’s blue eyes glittered again and her dimpled grin returned. “How wonderful. Do you know what you’re having?”

  “The doc at the clinic says it’s a boy,” she said, and shoved a couple of pretzels in her mouth.

  “A boy,” she gasped. “Boys are so precious. I have five of them.”

  Chloe could imagine having to go through pregnancy five times. “That’s crazy.”

  “No, it’s a beautiful thing. Babies bring such joy into a home. I wish you luck with yours.” She began walking away, then stopped and turned. “Maybe I can stop by and see you tomorrow. If I do, I’ll bring you more food, or maybe you’ll let me take you to the diner. Will you be here?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” She’d been in the same spot for a week and liked it. Not many people came through the alley, and the diner Heather kept talking about could be an alternate food source should she run out of money. She’d never garbage-picked in her life, but with only a few dollars on her, she might not have a choice.

  “Either way, I’ll keep you and your baby in my prayers. Take care, Chloe,” Heather said, then walked down the alley, turned the corner and disappeared.

  Shoveling the last of the pretzels into her mouth, Chloe leaned against the brick building. Prayers wouldn’t give her a bed or food. Heather might be able to give her both, though. She thought about that big purse, and what might be inside of it. Cash. Credit cards.

  The baby gave her a little kick, so did guilt. She might be a whore, but she wasn’t a thief and never took what wasn’t hers. She pulled one of the water bottles from the backpack and took a long drink. Loving the way the cool liquid covered her throat, she decided she would remain in the alley. If Heather stopped by again tomorrow, she’d take what the woman offered.

  But what would Heather expect in return? What did the woman gain from helping out a pregnant prostitute? She laughed and shook her head. Brownie points with God? A one way ticket to heaven? Whatever the fuck.

  *

  Dante looked at the merchandise the Chicago PD had confiscated from a house on Seventy-Fifth Street three nights ago. SWAT had raided the house looking for weapons, found them, along with tens of thousands of dollars of stolen property. After the cops had matched the serial numbers to some of the property, and they had linked back to items insured by the insurance agency that had hired CORE, he and Lola were told they could look through the rest of the merchandise. So far, only a handful of the items had been linked to the pawn shop robberies they’d been investigating.

  “Maybe whoever robbed the pawn shops traded a few things in exchange for guns,” Lola suggested, and noted the serial number of an iPad.

  “That makes sense to me,” he said, completely disinterested in this case. While he hated the busy work, tracking serial numbers, logging makes and models, photographing stolen property, then comparing them to the insurance claims made by the pawn shop owners, Lola thrived on it. She was convinced they were dealing with a very well organized theft ring, while he thought they were dealing with nothing but a couple of thieves.

  He knew he wasn’t being fair to Lola. She was his trainee and he should show more enthusiasm for the case. Maybe if he wasn’t interested in a different set of thieves, his head might be on their investigation. But finding a couple of serial kidnappers who were stealing infants trumped stolen merchandise that could be replaced from a store.

  “They held the pawn shop owners at gun point, and if the thieves hired extra guys, they’d need guns, too.”

  “Right.”

  She finished jotting something down, then closed her notebook. “You’re being awfully agreeable. Don’t you have anything to add?”

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one who’s supposed to be training me.”

  His conscience kicked in and he knew she was right. He’d been doing a piss-poor job of training her. Sure, he’d shown her how they operated at CORE, but he hadn’t been acting like an investigator, at least not for the pawn shop case. Instead, his focus had been on the kidnappings and the evidence he and Jessica had been waiting for.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. “Let’s take a look at warehouses and storage units that have had a lot of recent activity. We’ll want to focus on places that will take cash in place of using a credit card for a deposit.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “I know for a fact there are hundreds of self-storage units in this city. I had to rent one out for a bit while I was looking for a condo. Plus, if the thieves did rent a unit, they might’ve gone out to the burbs, so tack on those places and it could take months before we get anywhere.”

  “Not if you narrow it down to places willing to take cash only. I’d skip major chains like U-Haul, U Store It or Public Storage, and focus on smaller companies for now. As for warehouses, let’s check into recently rented spaces. In certain parts of town, you can rent a twenty thousand square foot warehouse for anywhere from four to seven dollars a square foot. With the merchandise they’re moving, that cost would be minimal to them.”

  She grinned and tapped the notepad against her thigh. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For finally showing up today. I mean, you’re obviously here, but I don’t think you�
�ve really been here. Make sense?”

  Chuckling he nodded. “Yeah, it makes sense. Sorry, my mind hasn’t been on this case and that’s not fair to you.” He looked around the room. “I think we’re finished here. Let’s head to the office and go over what we have, then check into the storage unit-warehouse angle.”

  They signed out and left Chicago’s 7th Police District, then climbed into Dante’s Camaro and headed for the CORE offices. “So, where’s your mind?” Lola asked.

  “Come again?”

  “If your mind isn’t on our investigation, then where is it?”

  Jessica. The kidnappers. Missy Schneider. And exactly in that order. Now that Jessica had practically moved back into their home, he could check that box off and consider his personal life on the mend. As for the kidnappers and Missy Schneider, he couldn’t wipe them from his thoughts. He didn’t want to see another woman go the way of Missy. If she was linked to the kidnappers, the possibility of finding another woman murdered for her unborn child was, in his mind, strong. These people wanted a baby, and had the track record to prove it. Assuming they no longer had a child, they’d want to find one—fast. If they weren’t linked to Missy, they’d still likely be on the hunt for their next infant. But where were they hunting?

  “My wife and I are working a side investigation,” he admitted. Since Lola had proven to be nosier than he’d originally thought, he figured he might as well explain why he hadn’t been at his best this past week.

  “Your wife? Interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “You didn’t add a soon-to-be ex in front of wife. I take it things between you two are finally working out?”

  Like old times, only better. He’d noticed, not only with himself, but with Jessica, that they’d both made an extra effort to show affection, to choose the right words, to be conscious of each other’s needs. It used to piss him off when Jessica would spend hours looking through Rachel’s program searching for leads on their daughter. Jessica still looked, but she’d set the timer on the stove clock and had limited herself to how long she spent online. Instead of immersing herself in missing kids, she was making an effort to take back her life. She’d even brought up her paint supplies from the basement and had set up her old, wobbly easel in the dining room where the natural lighting was best. Yes, they’d discussed the investigation, but not as much as he’d thought they would. Granted, they had nothing new to discuss, but even before Sophia had been taken, Jessica had tended to bring her work home. She’d stew or coax him into brainstorming a case she was working instead of relaxing and unwinding after a long day. Yeah, he loved the direction they were heading and looked forward to the day she ended the lease on her apartment and officially moved back home.