The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 1-3: Redemption Thriller Series 7-9 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  It didn’t work.

  Even though we’d yet to talk to Stan, images of what Joanna’s face might look like flooded my mind. Unless it was a different form of torture than what Eileen Tadlock had suffered. Anything was possible.

  I felt a hand on my back. “I’m really sorry, Ivy,” Stan said.

  I didn’t respond. I just leaned up, wrapped my arms around his husky shoulders, and didn’t let go. He patted my back and let me have my moment.

  “I found a cold bottled water. You want it?” I turned and saw a timid Cristina standing there.

  I put my arm around her. “Sorry I bit your head off. I sometimes forget you’re only seventeen.”

  She stretched her lips in a straight line and held out the water. I popped the cap and chugged half the bottle, while Stan spoke to a crime scene investigator and someone from the ME’s office. He pulled out his pad, then shuffled back to me and Cristina.

  “Is it the same guy, Stan?”

  “Most likely. The rat actually ate through the back of her neck, taking a chunk out of her spine.”

  “What the fuck?” Cristina brought both hands to the side of her head.

  “You don’t need to hear this or even be here. I’m okay,” I told her.

  “I’m fine. I just can’t believe we’re talking about a human being doing these acts.”

  “Sick, twisted bastard did this,” Stan said, taking a quick glance at his notes.

  I began to shake my head as I tried to look through the sea of uniforms to get a glimpse of Joanna’s body.

  “Had you invited Joanna over to your place?”

  “What?” I said, distracted by the flash of a camera near Joanna’s body. “No. Of course not. I never hung out with Joanna socially, even when I was working at CPS. She’s single, that’s all I know about her.”

  Stan shuffled his feet. “Ivy, you know I’ve got to ask you some difficult questions.”

  “I get it.”

  “Okay,” he said, stroking his mustache. “Would anyone you know think that you had something against Joanna?”

  I closed my eyes for a minute. “That’s a loaded question, and you know it. We didn’t get along, but I never wanted to see her harmed. That’s just not me.”

  I heard a grunting response, and I turned to see detective Moreno coming around from behind Stan. Narrowing my eyes, I crossed my arms. “Do you have an actual comment, or are you just going to stick with the Neanderthal response?”

  “Just listening, observing. That’s my job, Ivy.” Shifting a toothpick in his mouth, Moreno moved his hands to his waist, pulling back the jacket of his latest pimp suit—this one teal blue.

  “I thought your job was trying to find out who killed Eileen Tadlock, and now Joanna Silva. That’s how you can do your job.”

  He moved closer, but Stan stepped in between us. “Hold up now. I think we’re all on the same side here, so let’s—”

  “I don’t like what he’s insinuating,” I said.

  “He only grunted,” Stan said.

  “Eh.”

  “Everyone’s a suspect until we can find a reason why they’re not,” Moreno said. “Don’t forget that.” And then he walked off before I could respond.

  “Ignore him,” Stan said.

  “Easy for you to say. This whole thing is so…”

  “Fucked up,” Cristina finished for me, giving me a half-nod.

  I pointed a thumb at her. “What she said.”

  “I meant what I said earlier. These are routine questions. Let’s just get through them, make sure we can adequately prove you had nothing to do with Joanna’s murder and move on,” Stan said, flipping a page in his notepad.

  “That’s easy,” Cristina said. “She’s been with me the last few hours, talking to a new client. Witnesses at Smoothies and Stuff will say the same thing.”

  Stan ran his pen across his notepad. “Good. We’ll mark that one off the list.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Any sighting of one of those symbols on Joanna’s back, like the railroad tracks that were found on Eileen’s spine?”

  Cristina gave me a puzzled look, and I responded with a quick, “I’ll fill you in later.”

  Then Stan said, “It’s way too messy to see that. We’ll have to wait for the ME to clean her up and do his initial examination back at his office.”

  “What else can you tell me about what happened to Joanna?” I asked.

  “The initial crime scene investigator believes the body was moved to this location. So now we need to hunt down where Joanna was before now and hopefully find a witness who saw something.”

  I snorted, thinking that was about as likely as a blizzard in San Antonio in July.

  Stan continued. “We’ll get a team of detectives and crime scene investigators over to Joanna’s place.”

  I nodded. “Make sure you search her home computer,” I said as my brain kicked into a more focused mode. “Dating sites, or other online gathering places for single people. You never know, maybe she was lured to a certain place where this lunatic could more easily kidnap her.”

  “That wasn’t his MO with Eileen Tadlock.”

  “He has a point,” Cristina said.

  I shifted my eyes to her, then back to Stan. “I’ve studied killers like this. They don’t always take the exact same path to reach their end goals. People are unpredictable, and they might have to improvise a bit. The serious killers are highly motivated, so they’re open to changing their routine if it ultimately helps them accomplish what they’re seeking—power and control, making some sort of statement, whatever.” My thoughts began to drift.

  “Or a vendetta against someone in particular,” Stan said.

  I could feel his gaze. “What?”

  “You’ve done the research. I think you know where I’m going.”

  I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit my most intimate thoughts…my fears. I shrugged my shoulders.

  “While I want to find out who killed Eileen and Joanna, to seek justice for their deaths, I’m actually more concerned with your safety right now,” he said.

  Cristina slapped my arm. “Holy shit, he’s right.”

  “Hey,” I said, rubbing my arm.

  She did it again, obviously unaware of her habit. “That first girl, Eileen, attended the seminar where you spoke. This next victim, Joanna, is someone you actually knew. And her body was dropped at your doorstep.”

  She’d just verbalized my thoughts, but that didn’t mean I was willing to become the desperate victim. “I’m following you, both of you, but that’s all most likely coincidence. You know that, right?”

  Cristina grabbed my elbow. “Ivy, this isn’t about Eileen or Joanna. It’s about you.”

  My head began to throb, and I had a hard time catching a full breath. I forced a deep inhale and exhale and tried to relax. “I guess I didn’t want to admit what was happening.”

  “Thank you for not pushing back,” Stan said. “I know your personality, and what you’ve shared from your childhood. And of course the hell you suffered a couple of months back.” He paused, bringing a hand to his chin. “This is difficult on you. It would be on anybody, but for you it brings up a lot of demons. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Stan. And please don’t feel sorry for me. I can’t help it if some freak has something against me.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He sounded like a father, not a friend. I chose not to harp on it. I rubbed my eyes, and then craned my neck to take in the buzz near Joanna’s body.

  “You probably need a nap, Ivy. You want me to call Z and see if you can crash at her place?” Cristina asked, pulling out her phone.

  “That’s the last thing I want. I need to get into my apartment.” My thoughts had started spinning around theories of my top five PALs. I knew I had to put in the time to figure out who was behind these warped murders—who was trying to punish me.

  “Sorry, that’s impossible right now,” Stan said.

 
“It’s my place. I can go in there if I want.” I knew I sounded like a thirteen-year-old brat, but my maturity level had taken an overall nosedive.

  Stan looked up the hall, scratching the whiskers on his face. I could see he wanted to do this for me.

  “It just can’t happen, not now. Maybe in five or six hours, if you’re lucky.”

  “I don’t have five hours.”

  “At least five, probably more. What’s the urgency?”

  I wasn’t going to get into my virtual evidence board, how I was peeling back the layers of slime from my childhood to see who was haunting me, and now apparently killing other women close to me.

  “I’m a homebody, what can I say?”

  “Z will take care of you. I hear she has a real dank place,” Cristina said.

  Stan and I looked at each other.

  “I think that means it’s cool,” he said.

  “It’s more than cool, but I don’t need a nap.” I shuffled my feet, as ideas pinged my mind, fighting for my focus.

  “What are you thinking, boss?”

  Before I could respond, Stan jumped in. “I need to get signoff from the deputy chief, but once we get the scene processed and everyone has cleared out, I’d like to put a security detail outside of your apartment.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Stan. That’s like using a hammer to kill a fly.”

  “Disagree. It’s smart.”

  “It’s a waste of taxpayer’s money.”

  He chuckled, glancing at Cristina, then back at me. “And now you’re leading the city watchdog group? Come on, Ivy. If you don’t move to a safer location, preferably with a roommate who’s as big as I am but healthier, then you need some additional security. It’s your choice how we go about it.”

  I didn’t want to argue. “I’ll think about it.” I pointed a finger at Cristina. “We need to make progress on finding Anika’s parents.”

  Stan had begun to turn away, but he flipped around. “Is there a crime I need to know about?”

  I held up my hand. “Who knows? But we’ve been hired to try to find this girl’s parents.”

  “Why hasn’t she tried the traditional route and called the cops?”

  “She did, and they ignored her, saying there was no indication of foul play,” Cristina said.

  “I thought ECHO’s mission was all about helping kids who were missing or being abused,” Stan said.

  “It is. We are,” Cristina countered.

  “Listen Stan, I was hesitant to take the case. I told her we’re not equipped to hunt down parents.”

  “But you took it anyway.”

  “She has no place to turn,” I said. “She’s been through a rough time. And she has suspicions that they aren’t just missing.”

  He sighed. “Is there anything you’re involved in that isn’t dangerous to your health and to mine?”

  “You know my passion, Stan. Danger is sometimes part of the equation.” A few images from our break-in last night flashed across my mind, ending with the thud of the dog smacking into my car just before we escaped. “Just trying to do our part in this crazy world.”

  “Oh, hell’s bells,” he said, pulling a candy bar from his pocket. “I might as well not hide it.” He tore open the wrapper and downed about fifty grams of processed sugar in one bite.

  Cristina and I cracked smiles.

  Moreno pulled Stan to the side to discuss something apparently important to the case. I tried listening in, but there was too much background noise from the authorities processing the scene. I tried to think through my options on how I could get into my apartment and grab my laptop.

  Once Stan was free, he turned back to us. “Hey,” he and I both said in unison.

  “You go first,” he said.

  “Did I tell you I received a cool gift certificate from my old coworkers at CPS? It’s just been sitting on my dresser the last two months.”

  “That’s nice. But you’re telling me this because…” He rolled his arm in a “keep going” gesture.

  “It’s to Chocolate Artisan Chocolates up in Stone Oak.”

  His mustache twitched. “That ritzy place?”

  “And it’s yours if I can somehow get my laptop out of my apartment.”

  He turned his head to look down the hallway. “Maybe I was being a bit conservative on when you’ll have access to your apartment.”

  Cristina and I both raised an eyebrow, but neither of us said a word. We let Stan’s sugar craving do all the work.

  Cinching up his trousers, he turned to face us. “We don’t want you messing with the crime scene, so maybe I can get in there and grab it for you. Yeah, I think that’s the right tactic.”

  Now we were talking. “Our client will appreciate it, Stan.” I patted his arm. “And feel free to grab the gift card off my dresser. It’s right there.”

  “Only if you’re okay with it. Maybe I can buy some nice candy, bring it home to the wife. You know, earn some extra brownie points.”

  “There you go.”

  Stan said he needed at least an hour to do his work, and then he’d try to get into the apartment and grab my laptop.

  “You know where to find us,” I said.

  “Overdosing on healthy smoothies,” Cristina lamented.

  We started walking away from the crowd when Stan called out my name as he jogged up next to us. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “I forgot to tell you why I dropped by in the first place,” he said, panting like he’d gone a mile as opposed to thirty feet.

  “Do tell.”

  “More info on how Eileen was killed. The ME found ligature marks around the part of the neck that wasn’t ingested by the rat.”

  “Disgusting.” Cristina closed her eyes.

  “He strangled her,” I said.

  Nodding, he said, “The current theory is the killer strangled her, but stopped before she actually died.”

  “You’re saying he purposely kept her alive?”

  “Probably. Just so she’d feel the pain from the rat eating through her flesh until she died.” He looked at the ground. “Just a guess.”

  Knots formed in the pit of my stomach. “The sheer brutality…I can’t even wrap my head around it.”

  “Yeah,” he said, more subdued. “Monsters like this don’t come around very often. He’s like a hundred-years flood. Think Jack the Ripper.”

  I’d already gone there.

  14

  A gentle breeze blew my napkin off the metal table. I tried to snatch it out of the air, but my timing was off. Saul was out of his chair before I blinked.

  “Here you go,” he said with a wink.

  Those eyes. Those damn, dreamy eyes.

  “Are you feeling a little tipsy?” he asked, scooting his chair back up to our cozy table on the outdoor patio of Bliss. That was the name of the restaurant, although it also matched my current demeanor.

  “Maybe just a little,” I said, holding up my thumb and finger just an inch apart.

  “Good thing I’m driving.”

  Later on, if you play your cards right, maybe you’ll get a chance to drive a home run over the left field fence.

  I shuddered, wondering for a second if I’d spoken those words out loud.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Oh…nothing. Just a little chilly.” I smiled, and we locked eyes for an extra beat.

  “Give me one second.” He pushed out of his chair, then walked up to the host. He came back a moment later and draped a shawl around my shoulders. “I knew they kept extras for cool March nights like this one.”

  “Thank you.” I glanced at the sky, a full moon outlined by a plethora of sparkling stars. “It’s a beautiful night. Thanks for convincing me it’s okay to go out and have a good time.”

  “You deserve it, Ivy. You don’t need to work twenty hours a day.”

  “Well, I am in the early stages of starting a new business. Kind of goes with the territory, doesn’t it?.”

  “To a degree. Maybe you c
ould dial it back just a little, though. I don’t want to see you get sick, or end up hating this business that you felt so passionate about starting.”

  He had a point. I picked up my martini, then put it back down, and grabbed my water glass instead. I took a long gulp.

  “I can see your mind already drifting away, thinking about work stuff.”

  I set the glass down. “This isn’t an eight-to-five gig, Saul. Two women have been murdered in the most cruel and vicious way imaginable. I feel like they died because they knew me somehow, crossed paths with me at some point.”

  He leaned in closer and put his hand on my elbow. A current of electricity tingled throughout my extremities.

  Damn, I was really letting this guy get to me.

  “None of us can control the actions of others. And it just so happens that a lunatic is trying to prove some sick point. I don’t know, but you can’t take on the burden when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  I let his comment swirl in my mind a moment. While he was right, he didn’t know everything I’d done in my life. I’d shared some of the highlights, but there were some things too ghastly or unpleasant, or even self-incriminating to bring up. If Zahera didn’t know, then there was no way that I’d share my most intimate secrets with Saul.

  Not unless I had another martini.

  “I appreciate you caring, Saul. Really, it means a lot.”

  After another long gaze, he excused himself to go use the restroom. Feeling safe for the moment, I decided to gulp down the last few drops of my martini.

  “Can I get you another drink, ma’am?” A smiling waiter appeared at our table. I twirled the stem of the glass, thinking through the progression of events if I told the waiter yes.

  I heard a buzz from my purse in the seat next to me. I pulled it out and saw a text from Cristina.

  “Sorry, I need a minute.”

  “No problem. I’ll come back,” the waiter said.

  Then I read the message from my ECHO partner.

  Got list of places parents might be from Anika.

  I thumbed a quick response.

  Cool. Thx. We can start search for their names at local hotels in those locations. I’m guessing u won’t find anything, but it’s a first step.