She did a quick check of the apartment on the way back to the bedroom to get dressed. Cinders was nowhere to be found. That hot little number down the street sure is keeping him busy. Alex just hoped she didn’t wind up with a box of kittens on her doorstep any day soon.
“I think I’m getting old, Dixie. I used to be able to do this with just a fifteen-minute nap.” She pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, bent to slip on her shoes, and groaned. “Now, if I get less than four hours, every bone in my body hurts.”
Dixie tilted her head, listening intently. Alex picked up the leash and attached it to Dixie’s collar. “You’re a good listener, girl. Let’s take a quick run and see if we can spot your delinquent brother.”
She opened the door, and Cinders rushed past her and into the living room. Alex closed the door and dropped the leash. As standoffish and stubborn as Cinders could be, it wasn’t like him to rush past her like that. A tiny drop of red caught her attention, and she frowned as she knelt to inspect it. Blood.
“Cinders?” She called to him, and he hissed, backing up behind the couch and staring out at her. “Okay, somebody is in a bad mood this morning.” She knelt beside the couch and slowly reached out. Alex jerked her hand back as claws dug into her, leaving streaks of blood down her wrist and the palm of her hand.
Dixie began to bark loudly. “Quiet, girl.”
Alex sat down on the floor a few feet from the couch. She started to speak in a slow, calm voice. “Hey, it’s me, little man. You know, the one who feeds you and rubs your belly at night.”
He moved a little closer to the edge of the couch and meowed.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Remember how we got you out of that big old box and brought you home?”
He edged a little closer, and Alex strained to see his entire body. She needed to know where the blood was coming from and just how bad he was hurt. She held out her hand again. “Come on, Cinders. Please.”
He crawled forward slowly, rubbing his head against her hand. “That’s right, boy.” She rubbed her hand down his body and gasped as she came to his tail. Some son of a bitch had cut it off. Tears filled her eyes as Cinders finally crawled into her lap. She lowered her head to his and sobbed.
“Alex, you all right, honey? I heard Dixie barking.”
She glanced up to find Nobby standing in the doorway, and just shook her head.
He knelt beside her. “Let me have a look.”
Alex moved her hands and let him examine Cinders, who sat watching them both, his eyes filled with trust.
“We can take him to the vet, but really ain’t much can be done now. The bleeding’s almost stopped.”
“Who would do something like this, Nobby?”
He shook his head. “Same kind of bastard that kidnaps kids. I’ll take Dixie for a walk and come back and get him so you can shower and dress.”
Alex swallowed hard, pushing herself away from the pain. “Have we heard from Frost and Tamara?”
“Just called. Said they’d be here in about an hour.”
She stood, holding Cinders in her arms. “Do you really think Anders had anything to do with this?”
“Nah, honey, there’s bastards out there everywhere. Probably some bunch of teenagers who thought it’d be fun. If Anders had done it, Cinders would probably be dead.”
Nobby picked up Dixie’s leash. “Be back in a few minutes.”
Cinders licked Alex’s hand and meowed sadly. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to do it.” She carried him back into the living room and made a bed on the couch. “You stay here, okay?”
Alex opened the hall closet, pulled out a hammer and some nails, then boarded up the pet door. Her hands shook as she pounded the nails into the wood, envisaging the hand holding the knife. Whoever did it, they better hope I never find out who they are.
~ ~ ~
“Care if I drive?” Crimshaw asked.
Alex tossed him the keys, climbed into the passenger seat, and held up her bandaged hand. “Probably best you do.” Her mind was still on Cinders, and she and Nobby had agreed not to tell the others anything other than she’d tried to help an injured cat and gotten scratched. The two of them would take turns checking on him and Dixie several times a day.
Crimshaw climbed in behind the wheel, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and started the car. “Probably should have told you, that’s pretty much my one anal pet peeve. I have to drive. Otherwise, I’m holding on to the dash.”
“Must be a male thing. Every partner I’ve had has insisted on driving.”
Crimshaw snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call the group Patterson paired you with ‘partners’. The only reason you got them is nobody else would trust them to have their back.”
Alex turned to study him. “So if they’re that bad, why does the force still keep them? In England, they’d be gone in a day.”
“They passed the academy, and they’re Patterson’s snitches. You can be sure if one of us gets called in on something, it was one of them that gave Patterson the information. One of the ways he kept an eye on you, too.”
“Why are you doing this, Crimshaw?” Alex asked.
“Had the weekend off, and my mother-in-law is visiting. I’d do anything to get out of that.”
Alex couldn’t help the laugh that burst forth. That wasn’t an answer she had expected. There was some American humor she loved. “Seriously, why are you doing this?”
“Derek and I looked for those babies all week. Even put in a couple of hours of our own time every day. We couldn’t find one damn clue to get us going. It was like they just disappeared into thin air.” He glanced at her and grinned. “Then there you were, with lots of clues. We didn’t care how you got them. We signed on to serve and protect, and those three kids are more important than this badge.”
Alex leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, that’s how I felt, too.”
A comfortable silence ensued, and Alex closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but jerked wide awake when the car stopped. “Are we here?”
Crimshaw snorted. “Thank God. You snore like a freight train.”
“I do not!” Alex exclaimed. “I’ve never snored.”
“Sure.” Crimshaw opened his door. “That’s why one of the cars asked me to turn down the radio at a stoplight.”
Alex knew her face was flushed red and took an extra minute to look through the file before she climbed out. “Mrs. Dinsmore is seventy-five, so I hope she remembers these girls.”
“She was a principal. They remember everything. I still hate running into mine.”
She followed him up the short walk. “Were you a bad boy in school, Crimshaw?”
He raised his hand to knock. “One of the worst.”
The door was opened by a young man, possibly fifteen or sixteen, holding a skateboard. “Can I help you?”
Alex showed him her badge. “I’m Detective Alex Fox, and this is my partner, Officer Crimshaw. We’d like to speak to Mrs. Dinsmore, please.”
A grin spread across his face. “Hey, Grandma, the cops are here. Told you they’d catch up with you eventually.”
He pushed past them, dropped his skateboard, and laughed. “I gotta run before she catches me.”
“Impudent young whippersnapper.”
Alex turned back to the door at the sound of the voice. “Mrs. Dinsmore?”
“Yes, I’m Rhonda Dinsmore. What can I do for you?”
“We’d like to talk to you about a couple of students that may have attended Thurman while you were principal there.”
“Of course, please come in.” She led them to a small sitting room off the hallway. “And please forgive my grandson’s lack of manners. I assure you he didn’t learn that from me. Have a seat, and I’ll bring in some refreshments.”
“Oh, that isn’t necessary, Mrs. Dinsmore,” Alex said.
“Rubbish. I don’t have guests that often, and I haven’t forgotten my manners. You always serve refreshments. Would you like tea or coffee?�
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“Coffee would be great,” Crimshaw said.
“Coffee’s fine,” Alex said.
“Three coffees it is then.”
She returned a few minutes later with a full tray. “Wasn’t sure what you took in it, so I brought everything. Now, I’d like to see those badges, please.”
Alex waited until Mrs. Dinsmore sat down, then handed her the wallet.
“Detective. You look mighty young to be a detective. And how about you, young man?”
Crimshaw grinned and passed her his badge. Alex was pretty sure no one had called him a young man in a long time. Mrs. Dinsmore passed their badges back to them and leaned forward to pour three cups of coffee. “Please help yourselves.”
“Black is fine, ma’am.” Alex opened her file and pulled out the picture of Carissa Anders. “Do you remember this woman?”
Mrs. Dinsmore pulled her glasses down on her nose and studied the picture. “That would be Carissa Anders. Lord, the trouble that girl caused.”
Alex shot Crimshaw a glance and handed her the picture of Emma DuPont. “What about this one?”
She frowned for a moment. “Hair’s different, but I think that might be Emma Newcomb. Seemed to me she was a brunette, though, not a blonde.”
“And this one?” Alex asked.
“Oh, yes. Sabrina Newcomb.” She handed back the pictures. “So what kind of trouble are these three into now?”
“We’re not sure yet. We were hoping you could tell us what kind of trouble they caused in high school,” Alex answered. “And if there was anyone else that they hung around with.”
“Let me think a minute. Seemed like there were always four or five of them into something. Do you have any more pictures?”
“No, I’m sorry we don’t.” Alex said. “We were hoping maybe you had a yearbook.”
“No, honey, my daughter got rid of just about everything I had from my school days when I moved in here with her. Part of growing old, I guess. Things just aren’t as important to young people as they were to us.”
“Maybe if we concentrate on these three, something will come back to you?” Crimshaw said. “Always works that way for me.”
“Well, Emma wasn’t much of a problem. Unless her sister made her do something, and it was usually minor. After Sabrina left, Emma was a perfect student.”
“Where did Sabrina go?” Alex asked.
“Parents put her in a private school, to the best of my memory. One of those boarding places. I think they just gave up on trying to save her and decided to save Emma.”
“We found some juvenile files on Carissa and Sabrina, Mrs. Dinsmore, but unfortunately, they’re sealed. Do you remember anything about that?” Alex asked.
“Oh, yes. Never forget it. They plotted to kill another student. Might have done it, too, if Emma hadn’t tipped off the police.”
“Do you remember the name of the student?” Alex asked.
“Never forget that, either. It was the vice principal’s daughter, Bridgett Stevens. Carl had caught them trying to set the girls’ bathroom on fire and suspended them both. They planned to set Bridgett on fire as payback.”
“Do you ever hear from them or know where they’re living now?” Crimshaw asked.
“Well, poor Carl died about five years ago. Last I heard, Bridgett had married and moved to New York. I think her mother joined her there after Carl’s death. Let me think for a minute. Yes, I believe her husband’s name was Sanchez.” She took a sip of coffee and shook her head. “Now I could be wrong about that. I actually went to the wedding, but my memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”
Alex smiled and glanced at Crimshaw. He’d been right about principals, and the old woman’s memory was as sharp as a tack. “You’ve been a big help, Mrs. Dinsmore.” She stood and motioned for Crimshaw to follow her lead. She wrote out her name and phone number and passed it to Mrs. Dinsmore. “If you should remember anyone else they hung out with, I’d appreciate it if you’d give us a call.”
“I know there were at least three others that Carissa hounded and gave orders to. She was the ring leader, and all the rest were scared to death of her. That girl was evil if I ever saw it, and Sabrina wasn’t much better.”
Mrs. Dinsmore followed them to the door, and Alex shook her hand again. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with us.”
The grandson whizzed by on his skateboard as they reached the car. Alex grinned at him then turned to wave at Mrs. Dinsmore. The former principal definitely had her hands full with that young man.
Alex buckled her seat belt and pulled out her notepad. “Well, it wasn’t a completely wasted trip. We have the connection between Bridgett Sanchez and the others. What I don’t understand is if they tried to kill her in high school, why would she help them and why didn’t Emma DuPont tell me who she was?”
Crimshaw started the car. “I’d say the answer to both of those is fear. We need to find out if Bridgett Sanchez had any kids.”
His answer sent a shiver down Alex’s spine. “I hope they got Emma out of there. Let’s get back as quick as we can.”
“Give them a call,” Crimshaw said.
Alex shook her head. “Anders wanted to kill me, which means she thinks I’m onto something. If we can tap cell phones, she might be able to, too. I think from this point on we only talk about this when we’re all together or we’re in range to use the earbuds.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Give me another beer.” Ted Martin pulled out a twenty and laid it on the counter. “And keep them coming until that’s gone.”
The bartender placed a draft in front of him. “You got it, buddy. Women trouble?”
Ted turned in time to see Carissa Anders enter the dimly lit bar. “And then some.” He picked up his beer and carried it to a small table in the back.
Carissa slid into the seat across from him. “What’s this all about, Ted? It’s not very smart being seen together in public. And why aren’t you at work? The transfer is supposed to be made this morning.”
Ted chugged the beer and wiped the foam on his mouth with his sleeve. “I took some time off. The transfer can’t be made until Monday. I’ve already told DuPont that.”
“We’re doing it today,” Carissa stated bluntly.
Ted shook his head and smiled. “No, Carissa, we’re not. They were getting suspicious, and I’ve already removed the glitch on their system. I make the transfer now, and they’ll simply follow the money back to you.”
“Get back to the bank and fix it, Ted.”
“As I said, I took some time off. What explanation do you think I could give for being there and messing with the computers?” His smile widened as her face twisted in frustration. “We want out.”
The bartender arrived at the table. “You drinking, lady?”
“Whiskey, please. And bring the bottle.”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned at Ted. “Coming right up.”
Carissa waited until she’d been served, she’d paid for the bottle, and the bartender had returned to his station. She poured a shot and downed it. “You said ‘we’. I think Wanda is perfectly happy with our plan.”
“Let me worry about my wife. I’m not scared of you, Anders.”
Carissa laughed. “Oh, but you should be, Ted. The statute of limitations hasn’t run out on that money you embezzled to buy yourself that beautiful wife. And poor Wanda wouldn’t look very good in prison garb. I just don’t think she’d survive very long behind bars.”
“I want to see the babies. I want to know where they are and that they’re safe.”
Carissa poured another glass. “I can arrange that. This would have all been over by tonight, Ted, if you’d done your job. After that you could have gone on your own merry way.” She pushed the bottle across the table. “Now, we’ll all have to wait until Monday. Have a real drink on me.”
“I want to see the babies, Carissa, or I’ll let the police know everything, and I don’t care what happens to me or Wanda.”
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She stood. “I’ll call you later tonight and make the arrangements. I have to get back. Nicholas’s office was broken into sometime last night or early this morning, and I have to get to the office. You should think long and hard about this, Ted. If I were you, I’d go back to the bank and fix it. That way, it will all be over by tonight.”
“I told you, the transfer can’t be made until Monday. The FBI are there already, and I can’t fix the system until they leave.”
“All right, then it will all be over by Monday night. You know what’s going to happen if you double-cross me.”
Ted stood and pushed the bottle back across the table. “It will all be over tomorrow unless I see those babies.”
“I can’t make the arrangements until after the money is transferred. Margaret won’t go for it.”
“I’ll give you until two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Five minutes later, I’ll be sitting at the police station.”
He picked up his beer and sipped it slowly as he watched her stomp angrily out of the bar. The bartender plopped another glass on the table. “Sorry, buddy, doesn’t look like that went too well. I do admire a woman that can drink straight whiskey, though. You still want me to keep them coming?”
Ted shook his head. “No, I think I’ve had enough. You can keep the change.”
“Thanks, pal.”
Ted left the bar and headed for his car. He figured it wasn’t often Anders made a mistake, but she’d just made a big one. She probably didn’t care because she planned on killing him anyway. She would have to clean up all the loose ends, and he was a loose end. He had a lot to do, including going to the bank for a short period. After that, he was going home and making Wanda tell him who Margaret was.
~ ~ ~
Sabrina glanced at her watch, shocked to find five hours had passed. She must have fallen asleep at some point. Her muscles were cramped and sore, and she groaned as she pushed herself up from the closet floor. Opening the door slowly, she listened for any sounds of movement. Surely they were gone already. The house was strangely quiet as she tiptoed to the bedroom door and opened it, her gun held in front of her. At least she’d had the good sense to grab it before she hid in the closet. “Nicholas?”
Tragic Deception (Deception Series Book 1) Page 11