by B. A. Morton
With a muttered curse he pulled out his cell phone and punched out Gerry’s number.
“Godammit!”
Connell pulled the phone away from his ear while Gerry ranted, and when the diatribe finally quelled, he pulled it back.
“Hi, Gerry, how are you?”
“Don’t play games with me, Tommy. I’ve been calling you repeatedly. What happened downtown? I’ve had the Fire Department giving me grief. I’ve had my boss yelling in my ear. I’m about done with covering your back.”
Connell ignored him. Gerry’s outrage was old news and came with the territory. “So, did you get me the information I asked you for?” he murmured, aware that if the guys playing ‘my dick’s bigger than yours’ decided to straighten out their disagreement, they might just cast an eye in his direction.
“Did you listen to a word I just said?”
“Sure, I did, Gerry, but for the moment I need you to listen to me.” Connell suppressed a grin at the answering silence. Gerry was well and truly pissed.
“Did you get me the info on the murders, the addresses?”
“Yes,” came, Gerry’s short reply.
“Okay, text me the details and I’ll go through them as soon as I can.”
“As soon as you can? What are you saying, Tommy? I’ve been chasing around after you and you’re too busy now to look at what I’ve got.”
“Yeah, kind of, Gerry. I’ve got something else for you to chase after.” He paused to check that the situation at the rear of the truck hadn’t altered. “It seems our man Frankie has got himself mixed up in a little freight business. I’m looking at a big truck and lots of vodka.”
“Big deal, Tommy.”
“And that same truck has got a real leakage problem. People are just spilling out of it.”
“People?”
“Yeah, people.” He edged forward for a closer look. “Eastern European female people, if I’m not mistaken. It seems Frankie has expanded his business.” Now that he knew he had Gerry’s attention, he waited while Gerry processed and considered.
“You think he’s stepped into Sawyer’s shoes?”
“Well, I guess somebody had to. It’s a lucrative business and Frankie is in the business of making money.”
“Okay, where are you? I’ll send men down there.”
Connell hesitated. Wouldn’t that be the answer to his current problems, Gerry sending someone else to fix the mess so he could go home? But things were never that simple.
“I don’t know, Gerry. It might be better to follow the cargo, see where Frankie is stashing these girls. I doubt this is the first delivery. Maybe we can catch Frankie with more than his hands in the till. He’s a clever little shit. If we’re going to get him we need to do it right.”
“That sounds like the old Tommy talking. Do I sense some regret at your decision to hand in your badge?”
“Never, Gerry. As soon as this case is tied up I’m out of here for good.”
“Sure, Tommy. You keep telling yourself that.”
Connell heard the humor in Gerry’s response. He’d be laughing on the other side of his face when he did eventually sever his working relationship. Maybe it was time he tried sidestepping the line he was constantly accused of crossing. He’d have to be quick to get in a little property deal with Frankie before the guy got caught up in his own net.
He swung his gaze back to the scene within the warehouse. Things were getting complicated. He needed to take a step back and re-evaluate his position.
“Are you still there, Tommy?” Gerry’s voice dragged him back and he stared a moment at the phone.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking of a way to work this all out without too much of a mess.”
Gerry laughed humorlessly. “Well, that would be a first. We need to meet, Tommy. I need to know what the deal is with the murders. Frankie and his ladies can wait. He isn’t going anywhere and I can get warrants to check out all of his properties. Have you picked up the kid yet?”
“Did you get my order yet?”
“It’s in the bag.”
“Then, yes, I picked her up.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Where is she? Don’t tell me you’ve dragged her with you while you climb around in Frankie’s mess.”
Yeah, Gerry and Marty were right - he was losing it.
“She’s safe, Gerry, don’t worry. I’m going to finish off here and then I’ll catch up with those details you’re going to send and get back to you later.”
“And what about Frankie?”
Connell shot another glance at the scene before him. The drivers had settled their differences and the forklift was in the process of being moved. The girls had been corralled and were being transferred along with the vodka into separate vehicles, presumably destined for different locations. That complicated things further. One girl, not much older than Lydia, was standing off to one side. She scanned her surroundings nervously as she waited to be allocated a ride. As Connell watched she turned slowly in his direction and their eyes met.
“Tommy, are you listening?”
Connell held her gaze and saw her eyes widen as he pressed a finger to his lips.
“Tommy!”
She nodded, a small gesture barely noticeable to him and he hoped equally unnoticeable to the guys milling about. If she gave him away, he’d be no help to anyone, least of all her, and maybe she realized that.
A movement behind her drew both their attention.
“Shit ...” Connell muttered. Gibbons had just shown up. How he’d managed to extricate himself from assault charges and be back out on the street in record time was beyond Connell. As he pondered on the likelihood of Hamilton or Wilson being in cahoots on the whole deal, Gibbons grabbed the girl impatiently by the upper arm and dragged her toward his car. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, sending Connell a desperate look, and his stomach twisted with indecision.
“What’s going on, Tommy? Speak to me.” Gerry’s insistent voice sounded in his ear.
He rose slightly, torn between the urge to step in and prevent at least one girl falling into the wrong hands and the need to preserve his own position in order to ensure Molly’s safety.
Luckily for him he’d always been good at thinking on his feet.
* * *
“Are we done?” Marty asked as Connell raced around the corner, almost knocking him over.
“Almost. I have a job for you.” He held a hand to his side and took a breath. If the serial killer didn’t finish him off, all this running around surely would.
“You do?”
“Yup and you don’t have time to think about it.” He took Marty by the arm and almost dragged him to his car.
“Gibbons is about to head out in Frankie’s loaner and I need you to follow him.”
Marty pulled away and shook his head. “No way, Tommy. An occasional favor I don’t mind but I didn’t sign up to go chasing dirty cops around town.”
“You don’t have time to argue, buddy. He has a young girl in the car and I need to know where he’s taking her. He knows me, he doesn’t know you - go figure.”
“A young girl?”
“Yeah. I haven’t got time to explain. Just stay a few cars back and stay in contact by phone. If things get out of hand, call Gerry.” He pulled open the car door and bundled a reluctant Marty into the driver’s seat.
“Out of hand?”
“Marty, for fuck’s sake, nothing is going to happen. I just need to know where this girl ends up.”
“Why not call Gerry now? You know I’m not good at this stuff.” Marty had started the car and was pulling on his seat belt, but the reluctance was clear on his face.
“Because there’s more than one girl and by the time Gerry gets his act together they’ll be scattered to the four winds. We need to follow the one that’ll lead us to Frankie. Gerry’s sending guys as we speak, but by the time they get here, they’ll be lucky if they end up with a couple of crates of vodka
.”
“Vodka?”
“Marty, I’ll explain later. Just get out there after Gibbons. Follow at a distance and on no account intercede.”
“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m really likely to do that.”
“Buddy, just go!” He slammed the car door and watched as Marty pulled out of the compound and waited at the side of the road for Gibbons’ car to pass. Connell counted to five slowly, and then Marty eased out and headed after him.
He checked his watch and shifted his gaze to his car. He had to move. He had to be well away before Gerry turned up and held him for questioning regarding his earlier misdemeanors. He’d told Gerry he would wait for him, but Gerry should know better.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time Connell got to the farm, Molly was asleep in the back of the car and he’d lost count of the number of missed calls and ignored messages he’d had from Gerry. The call he really wanted, from Marty, still hadn’t come in and he wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. He parked alongside the barn and gave a cursory visual sweep of the yard, checking for Parker. When he didn’t hear the dry cough, or the loading of a shotgun, he figured Parker had finally gotten the message.
“This is a nice surprise.” Lizzie looked up from her position, curled like a cat in an armchair in front of the stove. She’d been reading and she placed her book on a side table and smiled. “I didn’t expect you this evening.” She dropped her gaze to the child standing by his side. Molly stared straight ahead, a blank expression on a pale face, pinched with tiredness.
“Change of plan. We have a guest.”
“So I see.” Lizzie uncurled herself from the chair. Hiding her confusion behind an encouraging smile, she leaned down toward the child. “Hello, sweetie, what’s your name?”
Molly shifted her gaze to her feet, shuffled her tattered sneakers against the wooden floor and tightened her grip on Connell’s hand.
“Honey, this is Molly and she’s going to be staying for a day or two. I figured she’d be fine in that little room next to Joe’s until I straighten things out.”
“Hello, Molly.” Lizzie took a step back and the child visibly relaxed.
Catching Connell’s other arm with a gentle caress, Lizzie rose on tip-toes and brushed a soft kiss across his cheek. “What kind of things?”
Turning his head, he caught her lips with his. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” He gave her a look that was both apology and entreaty, and was rewarded with the kind of smile that hinted at more. He felt relief and longing marinating warmly inside. He was glad to be home.
Lizzie fixed up Molly’s bed and the child reluctantly allowed herself to be parted from Connell. Swapping his hand for Lizzie’s, she was guided up the creaking stairs and into a little room nestled under the eaves. Lizzie found her a t-shirt to wear as a nightdress, and when she was washed and made ready for bed, she was covered with a quilt that was fragranced with summertime and mountain air. Connell leaned on the doorframe, watching, unwilling to disturb the fragile trust that had emerged through need and desperation as Lizzie made the child feel safe in her own quiet way. Molly drew the patchwork tightly around her shoulders and closed her eyes, shutting out the world, dismissing them both as clearly as if she had voiced it. Stepping into the room, he eased past Lizzie and pulled a chair next to the bed, placing Molly’s small collection of books on its seat along with her coloring things. Leaving a lamp burning, he shepherded Lizzie out of the room and closed the door gently behind him. With a resigned sigh, he returned to the kitchen and Lizzie’s inevitable interrogation.
“What’s going on?”
Connell shrugged, playing for time, his back to her as he studied the washing machine controls. “You reckon we can get these laundered by morning?” He held up Molly’s pajamas and tattered coat.
Lizzie took them from him. Her hand lingering in his, her eyes searching his face for the answers he was reluctant to provide.
“They look a little past their best.”
He dipped his head in agreement. “They’re all she has. I figure she would want to keep them.” He watched as she gently, reverently, fingered the threadbare cloth. He knew that she, of all people, understood what it felt like to be scared and alone, and was grateful he didn’t need to explain the responsibility he felt for this odd little girl.
“Why is she here? You said whatever you were doing would stay in the city.”
“It will. Molly just got caught in the middle. She needs somewhere safe, somewhere normal where she can just be a kid again.” He paused, distracted by the small sad bundle of clothes. “She’s different. She doesn’t say much and I need her to tell me what’s going on. Maybe she’ll talk to you, maybe she won’t. Either way, I couldn’t leave her behind.”
Lizzie dropped the clothes into the machine, added some sweet-scented fabric conditioner and stepped back into Connell’s arms. She took his hands and pulled them more tightly around her. “You did the right thing bringing her here, but what about her family?”
Pressing a kiss on the top of her head, he dropped himself into the armchair and pulled her onto his knee. “Both parents have disappeared. Molly’s been giving me the run around for a couple of days. She’s involved somehow in something serious, but like I said, she’s not saying anything.”
“What about Gerry? What does he have to say?”
Connell smiled wearily, pulling her closer and feeling her warmth recharging him. “Gerry’s not a happy man and I’m not his favorite person.”
“Well, there’s a surprise.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t always see eye to eye. Nobody gave a shit about this little kid until I showed up. Now everyone is chasing their tails to get at her.”
“Everyone?” She watched him carefully with uncertain eyes and he chose his words with just as much care.
“Goodies, baddies, you name it.”
“What kind of baddies?”
He heard it then, the unmistakable tremor in her voice, and he tucked her head against his chest and sighed. There was no way around it and she knew it as well as he did.
“Well, bad cops and bad crooks. Even Gerry’s a little too curious about her.”
“Gerry’s a good cop.”
“Gerry’s a pain in the butt.”
“Have you two had a falling out?”
“Not especially, though we probably will when he catches up with me.”
“He’s been trying to catch up with you all day.”
“He called here?”
“Quite a few times, actually. I told him I didn’t expect you back, that you were staying in town at the apartment. He seemed a bit upset.”
Connell pulled a face. Gerry was more than a bit upset. “I had an accident with the car. Gerry’s not happy about it.”
Lizzie lifted her head. They were losing the last of the evening sun and she narrowed her eyes to study his expression. “An accident? What happened? Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not that kind of accident. Gerry’s just pissed because he’s under pressure from above and can do without me causing trouble. Anyway, the car’s insured, it’s no big deal.”
“So why are you avoiding him?”
“I’m not. I’m just missing you.” He dipped his head and kissed her, slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt and smoothed the soft skin at the small of her back. He tried to deepen the kiss, tempted and unable to resist, but she pushed him gently away.
“I missed you too but I’m not stupid. You didn’t come all the way home and leave a job half done just because you wanted a hug.”
Connell smiled. “I figured on more than a hug.”
“You won’t be getting anything unless you tell me what’s going on.”
Slipping her off his knee and onto her feet, Connell sighed and pulled himself out of the chair. “In that case, I’d better get started.” Reaching for his jacket, he pulled out his notebook and the bookmarks and dumped them on the kitchen table.
“Okay, maybe I should explain. M
olly’s got a thing goin’ on with ‘The Wizard of Oz’. I’m not sure why but she has a whole heap of books and she piles them up in some weird kind of order in her room.” He pulled out the diagram of the stacked books. “She also has a crazy taste in bookmarks.” He rearranged the markers, his hand lingering on the glittery handmade card. He was missing something important. It hovered just out of reach.
Lizzie reached across, interlaced her fingers with his and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Hey,” she said softly, “don’t worry. You’ll work it out.”
He gave her a quick smile, relieved she understood him. “Okay, so someone scares her and she’s off and running. Maybe she saw something, or heard something, or maybe she knows something she shouldn’t. Whatever it is, she’s not saying, but the guys I’ve been tailing for Gerry were very concerned that she shouldn’t be found.
“Couldn’t you ask them why they find her so interesting?”
“I could if one of them hadn’t met with an unfortunate accident.” He glanced at her and figured the sanitized version of events wasn’t going to cut it, not when the newspaper clippings told it all in gory detail. “There’s a killer going around knocking off cops. He happened to bump into one of the two I was tailing for Gerry.”
“I see.” Lizzie swallowed and Connell watched as she processed this latest information. She reached across and picked up the diagram, turning it this way and that before replacing it carefully. “Where’s Marty? I thought he was meant to be helping you?” She picked up the first newspaper clipping, smoothed it out and studied the text.
“He’s following the other cop, Gibbons. I’m expecting his call.”