The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 4-6: Redemption Thriller Series 10-12 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  “That fine work was done about five minutes ago when I was walking and texting.” I stuck out my lower lip, waiting for his arms to embrace me. But he didn’t. Because he was holding two cups of coffee. “Sorry, my hands are full.”

  I reached out to grab one of the cups. “How did you know I was dropping by?”

  “I didn’t,” he said, glancing over my shoulder. I followed his gaze and realized the other coffee was for the busty brunette in the office.

  “Is she a new client?” I tried to act excited, but my acting job was less than convincing.

  “Oh, that’s Kyra. She’s my new legal assistant,” he said with a little too much enthusiasm.

  “You have a legal assistant?” I’d pointed at him without even knowing it.

  “You sound shocked.”

  “No, it’s just that…well, I didn’t know you had any clients yet. Wait, did you actually do it?”

  “Yes,” he said. His beaming smile morphed into a nervous chuckle.

  “You gave your two weeks’ notice?

  He nodded, but I could see there was a story there. “And?”

  “And it didn’t take two weeks.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Ross fired me on the spot. Told me I was traitor, to pack up and get out.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” He sipped the coffee in his right hand.

  I turned back to look through the window of his office.

  “Right, so…” He paused, cleared his throat. “Kyra minored in marketing in college, and she has some great ideas on how to get the word out.”

  “She graduated college? That’s good. Any professional experience?”

  “Professional? What do you mean?” he said, taking another sip. Then, it looked like he had one of those aha moments. “Wait, she did work for an ice cream company.”

  “Doing marketing or helping out their legal department?”

  “She scooped ice cream. Says she always got the size of the scoop to the right specifications according to company policy. That was her example of being detail oriented.”

  I blinked a couple of times, wondering if my concussed brain had sent me into some type of alternative universe where Saul had lost his frickin’ mind.

  “Come on in, I want you to meet her. She’ll be part of the family.” He nodded at me, but I was still stuck at his last comment. Family?

  “Do you mind getting the door?” he asked.

  “Right. Let me help you.”

  We walked inside, and Saul handed Kyra the coffee while I got my first full-on view of the ice cream scooper. I thought they might have accidentally done a chest bump like the ones I’d seen athletes attempt, but Saul would have bounced into the wall. So far, though, I’d yet to see his sights go to her chest. He was looking into her eyes, which were like prized jewels. Were those even real? Was anything about her real?

  “Ivy, I’d like to introduce you to—”

  “It’s Kyra, right?” I stuck my hand out first. Her smile was far too alluring, just like the rest of her.

  “That’s what my mom and dad named me,” she said, popping her eyebrows at the end to emphasize something I apparently didn’t understand. She giggled, and then snorted once as she took in a quick breath.

  Yeah, she snorted. Finally, a flaw.

  They tried to engage me in small talk, but it was meaningless. All I wanted to do was spill my guts to Saul, but he was too enamored to notice my needs. And yes, I had to admit, I was feeling sorry for myself. Finally, probably a second before I was about to pick up a pen and see if I could pop a hole in those puppies, Kyra excused herself to the restroom, in her own cutesy, albeit annoying, way.

  “Hey, I’m late meeting the Romeros at the park, so I need to head out,” I said, motioning to the door.

  “Oh, how’s that going? The missing girl case.”

  “If I told you one thing, I’d have to tell you a hundred, and we’d be here all afternoon. Let’s catch up later, okay?”

  “I almost forgot, Ivy. I got a text this morning from the PI looking for your parents,” he said, walking behind his desk. He found his phone under some papers, then looked up at me. “The PI says she has someone she wants you to meet. Says she might have information on your parents.”

  “That’s odd. Isn’t that her job to meet with the people and figure out if they know something first, so I don’t have to keep getting my hopes dashed?” Even as I asked the question, I could feel my expectation level rise. I tried like hell to keep it under control.

  “Yeah, I guess so. But something tells me this is different.”

  The office phone rang, and Kyra the ice cream scooper bounced in and answered it, stealing Saul’s attention.

  “You can ask her to set something up,” I said, but his attention had been diverted.

  Wearing a smile a mile wide, his eyes were focused on Kyra as she spoke on the phone, as if he were watching his very own invention take life form.

  Didn’t they make some teenage movie about that?

  I turned and walked to the door.

  “Oh, right, Ivy. I’ll get her to set up a time and place.”

  I heard footsteps behind me, then his arms were wrapped around my waist. He kissed the nape of my neck. “You can’t get out of here without giving me a kiss.”

  He was going for the late-in-the-game save. And it was working. I turned around and we kissed. I put my hands on his chest. “Just in time, buddy.”

  He turned his head. “Before what?”

  “Before I kicked you to the curb,” I said, glancing over his shoulder.

  He smiled, knowing I was kidding. “Meet at my place tonight?”

  “I might be late. Real late.”

  “I’ll wait up. Maybe we can share some pillow talk.”

  “You’re thinking you might get lucky?”

  His dimples came out in full force. I left his office in an improved mood, thinking luck was back on my side.

  30

  The scene before me warmed my heart. Standing near a gazebo in Crockett Park, the Romeros were conversing with members of the Lee High School basketball team, about eleven girls in all. They all wore their school sweats, a shiny red and black, sharing funny stories about Mia. Both Raul and Consuela wore big grins.

  To a degree, I almost wished I could freeze the moment. Once I gave them the update on Mia, it would launch them back into the present, a morose feeling of emptiness, and I knew their grief would return with a vengeance.

  Although the group mostly had their backs to me, one girl appeared to be the alpha of the group. She was high-fiving her teammates, leading the storytelling, getting everyone engaged. All I could see was her head of curly, brown hair roped together on top of her head. Given her height, I had to guess she played small forward.

  “Boo!”

  It was Cristina. I turned and saw her giggling like a little girl. I shouldn’t have to remind her about my aversion to parks, especially when darkness set in.

  “You’re pissed,” she said, her big, brown eyes scanning my face. “It was just too easy, though. I walked through those trees, and boom, there you were.”

  “Boom, that’s the second time someone has done that to me in the last hour.”

  “Oh.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her tight jeans. “Well, at least there’s some good news.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know how you did it, but somehow you got NSBitch to show up at the park.”

  I flipped around and the girl from the basketball team, the one with the big hair on her head, was up on the first step of the gazebo, now facing her teammates and a few others who’d joined the throng.

  “Holy shit. That is her.”

  “How’d you do it? I mean, she’d gone completely mute since we had our little run-in at the MACC.”

  I shrugged. “Luck, I guess.” I found myself shuffling closer, trying to listen in.

  “Don’t scare her off, Ivy
. We don’t want to have to chase her down again.” A momentary pause, then, “Hey, is she on some team?”

  I put up my Cristina filter and caught a few words from the girl we only knew as NSBitch. “Our teammate, our friend, Mia, hasn’t been seen in over two days. Mr. and Mrs. Romero here know we’ve been doing our best to search for her online. Because Mia means so much to each and every one of us, I know we’ll all keep spreading the word.” She punched a fist into her opposite hand, as the onlookers started chanting, “Mia, Mia, Mia.” Then NSBitch pumped her fist in the air and the others followed suit.

  In some respects, the whole scene didn’t feel appropriate. The vibe was more like a pep rally than a gathering of people to organize and hand out flyers. But, hey, they were high school kids. Maybe it was the only way they knew how to deal with the heartache. I glanced over at the Romeros. They were nodding, chatting with the girls. The youthful energy seemed to have rejuvenated them.

  I turned to face Cristina. I told her about finding Mia’s phone in her locker. Then she asked me about the murder scene at Mission San Jose. I started to share what I knew, then she stopped me.

  “Hold on, before you get into that, you have to tell me how you got that.” She pointed at my cheek.

  “Oh.” I touched the bruise. It was still very sensitive. “It was Saul…well…”

  “What? The motherfucker put his hands on you?” She pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. “I’m going to rip out his eyeballs.”

  “Hold on. I misspoke. I was walking to Saul’s new office. That’s when I got the bruise.”

  Her face looked like she’d just eaten cold spinach. “You walk and get a bruise? I’m not understanding something here.”

  I explained the whole story about running over the toddler and then face-planting into a street sign.

  “Do you need to see a doctor?”

  “I’ll put some ice on it later.” I looked over at the crowd.

  “No, not for the bruise. I mean for being so slow and uncoordinated. You’re old, Ivy, and I think it’s time you got some help. Maybe you need to wear one of those panic alarms around your neck.”

  I shifted my eyes to her for a second. “Your old jokes are getting…old.”

  “Who says I’m joking?”

  “I do.” I nudged her arm. “Before the girls break away to start handing out more flyers, why don’t you go talk to NSBitch, while I touch base with the Romeros. I’ll join you in just a minute.”

  “She might run again. And I’m not sure what I’ll ask her.”

  “Start with her name. Her full name.”

  I approached the Romeros, who were handing out packets of flyers and hugging each of the girls.

  “I’m sorry I was so upset earlier at the smoothie shop.” Consuela reached out and grabbed my hand for a couple of seconds. “To hear that detective talking about another murder, it just made all of my emotions boil over.”

  “It’s okay, Consuela. I think you and Raul are showing remarkable resilience considering everything you’re going through.”

  They both nodded, looked at each other, then back at me. That was the signal to provide the update. Looking around to ensure no else could overhear us, I saw Cristina talking to NSBitch. Oddly, Cristina didn’t seem to be paying her much attention. She subtly shifted her sights to two other girls speaking near them. It was good that NSBitch hadn’t run off or created some type of confrontation.

  I got back to the Romeros and reviewed everything that was pertinent to their daughter. Understandably, they had lots of questions.

  “Did they find anything on her phone?” Consuela had her hands pressed against her cheeks.

  “Remember, this still isn’t a real investigation within the SAPD, but Detective Pressler is going to call in a favor and try to get their tech team to conduct a thorough search.” I went on to say that Cristina was reviewing Mia’s online accounts and we’d get back to them with more information. Part of me wanted to get into the Satanic killings at the church and the animal sacrifice at the school, but I knew it wouldn’t help them. And I had no evidence to connect Mia to any of it. Besides, my feelings were just that: feelings, though sinking ones. It was probably just me.

  I also gave them a high-level overview of my discussion with Brandon.

  “I’m glad you reached out to him,” Raul said. “He’s one of those kids who knows everyone. Did he give you anything helpful?”

  I debated giving them my assessment of his attitude and demeanor, which at times had been overly aggressive and paranoid. But again, I had no evidence—just feelings.

  I finished our conversation by showing them the video of Mia when she walked out of school. I’d waited until the end because I was almost certain of the reaction they would have. I was right. They both broke into tears. Consuela touched the phone, as if she were trying to touch her daughter. “I need my baby back, Ivy. Please bring her back.”

  I swallowed hard. “We’ll continue to put all our focus on this case. But it would be easier if the full resources of the SAPD were formally engaged. Detective Radowski, the man at the smoothie shop and a friend of mine, assured me you have nothing to worry about.”

  Consuela and I both looked at Raul. “You know how I feel, Consuela. I thought you felt the same way,” he said, turning his palms to the darkening sky with a shrug.

  “I know, I know.” She rubbed her eyes. They were hollow. She looked over at Mia’s teammates still milling about. “It’s just that, even if we’re apart, isn’t that better than not finding our Mia?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then released a shaky breath. “If we’re not here, then who would ensure they were looking for her anyway? And then she’d get deported too.”

  “But—” I started.

  “Ivy, I don’t expect you to understand. It’s just the way it has to be. We have more flyers to hand out. Please let us know when you learn more information.”

  I watched them walk off. It was heartbreaking, but also maddening.

  31

  I then turned to Cristina and saw she was still talking to NSBitch. That had to be a good sign. As I began to walk over, NSBitch’s eyes snagged my gaze. She said a couple more words to Cristina, motioned for her teammates to follow her, and scampered away, all of them again chanting, “Mia, Mia.”

  “What’s up with her?” I said, pulling up next to Cristina. She responded, but my mind did an instant replay of what I’d just witnessed. Lots of subtle signals. NSBitch obviously had something against me, but there was more. When she flipped around to head off, she put her hand to her upper chest…as if she were holding something in place. Something that wasn’t visible, something under her T-shirt.

  “Did you hear me?” Cristina said.

  “Sorry, I was thinking. Does she know anything about Mia?”

  “We never got there.”

  “Why not?”

  “I pressed her on Mia, asked if she’d been stringing me along. She then asked who I was, who you were, what we were doing. I finally got her to calm down some, to let her know we were PIs working for the Romeros.”

  “And?”

  “She, uh, Jasmine—”

  “That’s her name? I thought it was Nat. So what’s up with the NSBitch handle?”

  “Apparently her nickname is Nat. Something to do with her being a real pest on the basketball floor. You know, like a gnat, the bug.”

  That sounded plausible. “You didn’t press her about why she’s called NSBitch? And if she told you all this, why did she run out on you at the MACC?”

  She grabbed my arm. “She’s dealing with her own shit. She’s pretty stressed. I think she’s more comfortable around her homies.”

  “What’s bugging her?”

  “Some type of sexting scandal involving her and two others. Said it could really screw up her life.”

  “Coming from a girl whose online handle is NSBitch.”

  “Not sure how many people know her by that name,” she said.

  �
��Still, that’s a normal-day issue, comparatively speaking. Can you tell if she’s legitimately concerned about Mia?”

  Cristina pressed her lips together. “I think so. I’m pretty sure.”

  “You sound less than convinced. I mean, a moment ago, she looked like she was the lead singer of a band, getting everyone into the mood. She definitely seems like the alpha of the group.”

  “Yeah, I suppose.” Cristina watched them disappear at the end of the park.

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Probably nothing, but I heard those two other girls complaining about their coaches.”

  I snorted out a fake laugh. “That goes hand in hand with being a high school athlete, doesn’t it? Coaches will do anything to put a state championship on their resume.”

  “This hatred,” she said, turning to face me, “was over the top. It sounded as if they were almost planning some type of payback.”

  “I can remember a few teachers who fell into the category. How about you?”

  She didn’t respond right away. I nudged her shoulder. “Earth to Cristina.”

  She sighed, then raked her fingers through her hair.

  “So, back to the important work. Mia. We still think NSBitch, a.k.a. Jasmine, might know something.”

  “Maybe. She’s wearing me out, I’ll tell you that much. She kind of drains me.”

  Interesting to hear Cristina speak like that, as if she were a mom of a toddler. “You’ll try her again later, after they’ve delivered the flyers?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be up late digging for Mia information through her online accounts.”

  “Good. Jasmine might feel more relaxed now that she knows you’re being transparent about why you’re asking her all these questions. Hey, any reason she was freaked out by me showing up?”

  She twisted her lips just as my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, but didn’t look at it until she answered my question. “And?”

  “You said you don’t like the old jokes.”

  “She doesn’t want any part of me because I’m old, as in twenty-eight years old?”