Disappointment tugged at her father’s face, making him look older than Jolene had ever seen him. “At least think about it.”
“Dad, please—”
“Think about it, Jolene.”
“Fine,” she said, eager to have him gone before her mother called again. “Now please go. I need to be alone right now.”
He stopped at the door and looked down at her with anguish in his eyes. “Will you call me in a few days?”
“As soon as I can.”
He nodded and stepped out into the night. Jolene felt guilty about sending him away, but she ignored it. She shut the door and stood with her back pressed against it listening to her father’s footsteps move away. Only then did she allow herself to cry.
CAPTAIN EISLEY PULLED Jolene into his office almost the second she walked through the door the following afternoon. That was never a good sign. Walking into the captain’s office and finding your partner there before you was even worse.
Instantly wary, Jolene sat in the empty chair and waited for the storm. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Ryan here’s been telling me about your ideas,” the captain said. His voice sounded calm enough, but the glint in his eye warned her she was on shaky ground. “Let me see if I have this straight. You’ve worked out this scenario in your head and you want me to okay wasting department resources on pursuing it, even though there’s not one scrap of evidence to support it. Does that about wrap it up?”
Her argument with Mason had left her feeling raw all over. The visit from her father had only made things worse. The last thing Jolene needed was this. She looked at Ryan, for a sign of support, but he sat leaning forward, head bent, refusing to meet her eyes.
Well. That was that, then. At least she knew where things stood between them. “I’m asking for a couple more days, that’s all,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level. “I’d like to talk with Red’s mother, now that we know he has one. I’d also like to spend more time with OC. I think he knows more than he’s telling us.”
“Even if he does, he didn’t talk before. What makes you think he’ll share that information with you now?”
Her stomach rolled over a couple of times, but Jolene kept her expression neutral. “I don’t mean to sound flippant sir, but convincing witnesses to share what they know is part of the job. I’ll find a way.”
Scowling so hard his bulldog jowls quivered, Eisley waved one hand toward the bullpen. “I’ve got a hundred open cases sitting in our files out there. I’ve got a new meth lab somewhere in the city that’s churning out crank faster than we can contain it, and you want to track down a missing junkie.”
“Only because I’m convinced he can help us nail Zika. If we could do that—”
“Spare me the lecture, Jolene. I’m well aware what getting Raoul Zika behind bars would do. I wish you’d been more concerned about that when we had him up against the wall three weeks ago.”
“I’ve always been concerned, Captain.” Though she was no longer sure she’d ever convince him of that. “Losing Zika that night was not my fault. I did everything I could—”
Eisley cut her off. “Let’s not play games. We both know what happened that night.”
“With all due respect sir, I don’t think we do. You’re convinced I screwed up in some way, and I don’t believe that’s true.”
Eisley shook his head, and his expression changed subtly. “I’m not blaming you, Jolene. Ultimately, the blame lies at my door. I’m the one who sent you out there. I should have sent Santini and Ross, but I didn’t.”
The implication that she was inept left a bad taste in her mouth—far worse than suggesting she’d merely lost focus. “Again, I have to disagree. Santini and Ross wouldn’t have been able to bring Zika in, either. That kid would have bolted no matter who was in that alley with him.”
Eisley sat and his chair creaked in protest. “Let’s at least face the facts here, okay? You saw a couple of kids, and that protective instinct kicked in. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with that at all. There are plenty of positions where that’s exactly what’s needed. Some of them are even on the police force. I just think you’ll be happier if you play to your strengths than if you insist on staying here, where, frankly, the fit isn’t exactly tailor-made.”
“What happened that night had nothing to do with the fact that I’m a woman,” she argued. “Ryan and I did all anyone could have done under the circumstances.”
Eisley sat back in his chair and laced his fingers across his stomach. “The problem is, we’ll never know whether that’s true or not, will we? And you’re asking me to let you spend department resources to chase down what I believe is a dead end. What would you do if you were in my shoes?”
“I’d leave no stone unturned, Captain. Not if it meant locking up Raoul Zika.”
The captain kept his eyes locked on Jolene’s as he asked, “What about you, Fielding? What do you think? Worth pursuing or wild-goose chase?”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Jolene held her breath. After an unconscionably long time, he inclined his head. “It might be worth pursuing, Captain. At least for a couple more days.”
Eisley narrowed his eyes and shifted away from Jolene to Ryan. “You believe this cockamamy story?”
“Let’s just say I don’t not believe it.”
Not a ringing endorsement, but she could hardly expect more from a partner who’d go behind her back in the first place.
Color crept into Captain Eisley’s cheeks and he wagged his head in disbelief. “All right, then. Go. But I’m not wasting forty-eight hours on this. I’ll give you until the end of your shift today. Unless you come up with something concrete to prove Red’s alive and that he knows something solid about Zika, don’t ask me for one second longer. You got that?”
Jolene got to her feet. “Got it, Captain. And thank you.”
“Just do your job, Preston. Show me that you can hold your own around here.”
Oh, she would. Somehow. Though just how she’d do it was a mystery.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JOLENE WAITED TO CONFRONT Ryan until they were in the car, driving across town to the address of Vivienne Beck’s parents. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have at the station where Santini and Ross, or anyone else on the squad, could hear them.
This was between her and her partner.
She thought surely Ryan could tell how angry she was, but he seemed oblivious. “You’re quiet this afternoon. Any special reason?”
Was he serious? “I’m just trying to figure out what happened back there. Why were you and Eisley so chummy before I got there?”
Ryan shrugged. “I got there before you. He wanted to know where we were on the case. I told him what you told me. No big deal.”
That sounded plausible, even if it didn’t explain why he’d been unable to meet her gaze while they were there. She thought about asking him to explain that, but she couldn’t go there. She knew how Eisley felt about having a woman on the squad. She knew how guys like Santini and Ross felt. But raise the issue of gender bias aloud? Not if she hoped to ever earn the respect of her colleagues. Crying foul was the quickest way she knew of to get herself ostracized. She’d seen it happen before.
She forced a smile and watched houses, stores and businesses pass in a blur. “Thanks for agreeing with me back there. I owe you one.”
“Yeah? Well I just hope you’re right. We could use some good news.” He was silent for a few blocks, then asked, “What’s happening on the home front, Jo? Have you talked to your parents yet?”
They’d avoided talking about this for so long, she wasn’t ready with an answer. She didn’t want to create any more tension between them, so she skirted the truth. “Yeah. My dad stopped by for a little while last night, as a matter of fact.”
“You guys have worked everything out then?”
She thought about just saying yes, but he’d figure out the truth eventually, so she took the middle
ground. “We’re working on it. That’s really all you can say after a thing like this.”
Ryan took his eyes off the road for a second. “You met any of your new family yet?”
Her second lie hit a little further from the truth. “Not yet, but soon.”
“Well, that’s good.” Apparently satisfied, Ryan switched topics again. “It’s weird to think of someone like Red having a family, isn’t it?”
Jolene gradually let herself relax. “You can say that again.”
“You really think his mother knows where to find him?”
“I think it’s possible. You heard what Vivienne said yesterday. The mom’s a real pushover when it comes to Red, and since he walked away with two thousand dollars the last time they saw each other, I’d say Vivienne is probably right. If Red is planning to hide out for a while, he’s going to need more than two grand. My guess is he’s counting on Mom to supply it.”
“That’s probably a safe bet,” Ryan agreed. “So the next question is, will she tell us what she knows?”
“Not if she thinks we’re a danger to him.”
“Us?” Ryan slowed, checked street signs, and turned into a subdivision that had probably been build in the early sixties. Some of the houses were still well kept, but others were starting to show signs of neglect. “What kind of danger could a couple of nice guys like us pose to good old Red?”
Jolene grinned as he turned into a cul-de-sac. “Let’s hope we can convince Mommy Dearest to see it the same way.”
The Beck home was a two-story job nestled in the trees at the top of the circle. If it was hard to imagine Big Red having parents and a sister, it was even harder to imagine him growing up in a nice, normal neighborhood like this one.
Jolene walked with Ryan up the curved sidewalk to the front door and remembered what Mason had said about watching Debra self-destruct and feeling powerless to stop her. Did Red’s parents feel the same way?
Ryan pressed the doorbell and a slim woman with short auburn hair answered. If she bore any resemblance to Red besides the hair color, Jolene couldn’t see it. While Red was well over six feet and husky, Naomi Beck was short, slim and almost fragile looking.
Just as Vivienne had, she recognized who they were before they could open their mouths. Resignation and deep sadness washed across her features. “You’re here about Russell, aren’t you?”
Jolene nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Sergeant Preston, and this is Detective Fielding with the Tulsa Police Department.”
“Is he all right? You’re not here to tell me he’s dead, are you?”
“No, ma’am. We’re trying to locate him. Have you seen Russell or heard from him recently?”
“Not since the middle of April.” She stepped away from the door and motioned them inside. “You might as well come in. I’m sure you have other questions. You people always do.”
She led them into a modest living room dominated by a piano covered with framed photographs. Jolene gave the photos a cursory glance and felt a tug of emotion when she looked at one of Red as a teenager, bright and eager, one arm draped casually around his sister’s skinny shoulders. In another, he was beaming as he held up a string of fish from some weekend outing with his father.
There was nothing visible that made her life different from Red’s, so how could two people from loving homes wind up on such different paths? Had her parents been more involved in her life? More watchful? Less harsh? Had the boundaries been more visible? Or less? Had Red come upon a crossroads one day, similar to the one Debra was facing now? Had his parents taken a wrong turn then? What had they done differently with Vivienne to turn her into a productive member of society?
“My daughter told me that the police had been by to see her at work. Was it you two?”
Ryan nodded. “Yesterday.”
“So you want to know about the money Russell took from me.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “And we need to know if you’ve heard from him or seen him since he took the money.”
“He’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
“Not with us,” Jolene assured her. “Did he say anything to you about being in some kind of trouble?”
Naomi waved one small, birdlike hand in front of her. “No. But he’s been in trouble since he was fifteen. Living out there the way he does, around those people… Every time there’s a knock on the door or the phone rings, I’m afraid one of you is going to tell me he’s gone.”
That might be soon if Jolene’s instincts were correct. “He may be in trouble, Mrs. Beck. We think he may have stumbled across some information he shouldn’t have, and now he’s hiding to protect himself. If that’s true—if he has information about the people we think he does—then we need to find him. We can’t help him if we don’t know where he is.”
Naomi’s pale eyes widened. “What kind of information?”
“We don’t know,” Jolene said. “So far it’s a lot of speculation and gut instinct. All I can tell you is that he’s not in any danger from the police.”
Ryan spoke, his voice low and gentle. “Can you tell us where to find him, Mrs. Beck?”
Naomi shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where he is.”
“When you saw him in April,” Jolene said, “did he say anything unusual? Mention any names?”
“No, but I only saw him for a minute.”
“He didn’t mention plans to meet somebody? Talk about an appointment? Anything?”
Naomi shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “He doesn’t talk to me about the people he knows.”
Disappointed, Jolene wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Do you think he might have said something to his father?”
“Spencer hasn’t spoken to Russell in years.”
“But he knows you’ve remained in touch with him,” Jolene said. “He knows about the money Russell took?”
Naomi stiffened. “Borrowed.”
Jolene met Ryan’s gaze and saw her own skepticism mirrored in his eyes. “Of course,” Ryan said, his voice carefully neutral. “Your husband knows about the money?”
“Yes, he knows.” Naomi’s hands fluttered in front of her. “My husband has a hard time dealing with Russell. Spencer just doesn’t understand Russell the way I do.”
“And how’s that?”
“Russell was always a quiet, sensitive boy. Things hit him hard. He doesn’t cope well. I’m sure that’s why he started using drugs the way he did.”
Eager for any insight into Red’s thought processes, Jolene asked, “When was that? How old was he?”
“Fourteen. It was after his grandmother died. He was a model student and a perfect son until then. Straight As. Student Council.”
Jolene tried to readjust her image of the burly, bearded Red with the portrait his mother painted. It wasn’t easy.
“When he started having trouble,” Naomi went on, “Spencer just couldn’t deal with it. It caused a lot of friction in the family. I’m sure that’s why Russell eventually left home.”
She certainly had a rich fantasy life, Jolene mused. “What did your husband do to drive him away?”
“He wanted to send Russell to a boot camp. Where they treat the kids like…like—”
“Like criminals?” Ryan suggested.
The look Naomi gave him could have frozen fire. “I realize that those places work on some people, but it would have been the wrong thing for Russell.”
“You were able to keep him from going?” Jolene guessed.
“I had to. For Russell’s sake.”
“And you started meeting Russell away from here?”
“I had to,” she said again. “Spencer doesn’t want him to come around here.”
“Did you meet him somewhere else in April?” Ryan asked.
“Yes.”
“Russell called you?”
“He sent me a message, yes.”
“Why did he want to see you?”
Naomi’s expression grew stern. “He’s my son. What
reason does he need?”
“According to Vivienne, he left with two thousand dollars,” Ryan pointed out. “How did that happen?”
“I gave it to him. I know he doesn’t have much. I know how he struggles. He tries and tries, but he can’t hold down a job, and he barely scrapes by. He’s too proud to ask, but I know when he needs money.”
“So you gave him your ATM card?”
“He didn’t want to take it. He tried to tell me he’d be fine. He had some deal cooking—that’s the way he put it. A deal cooking. He said he was going to be bringing in money from that.”
Jolene’s heart slowed ominously and she looked at Ryan. “What kind of deal?”
“He didn’t tell me. He wouldn’t. Like I said, he never talks about his life out there.”
“But he was expecting money?”
“He said he’d be set for life if he could just pull everything together.”
Set for life. Blackmail. He was going to get himself killed if he hadn’t already. “Where do you go to meet Russell?”
“I can’t tell you that. Russell trusts me.”
The woman was rapidly fraying Jolene’s patience, but Jolene tried to keep her voice clear and calm. “Mrs. Beck, Russell may be in danger. We want to help him, but we can’t do that if you won’t help us. Where can we find Russell?”
“I don’t know.” Naomi said, but for the first time, she seemed agitated. “I don’t know where he is now, but there’s a place in Riverside Park where we meet.”
“Where? What place?”
“The fountain. The one with the bears.”
“The new one on the Plaza?”
“Yes. You know where it is?”
Jolene nodded. “How do you know when to meet him? Does he call you?”
Naomi shook her head again. “No. He wouldn’t dare. His father might answer.”
“Then how?”
“He sends me a note. Sometimes he’ll get word to me through his sister.”
That didn’t help at all. Maybe it was knowing that Red had once been twelve, that he had a name and a family—that his mother thought of him as sensitive and his sister still cared about him made the need to find him even more urgent. “If you wanted to get word to him, if you wanted to ask him to meet you there, how would you do it? Please, Mrs. Beck.”
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