LUCY: The Complete Lucy Kendall Series with Bonus Content (The Lucy Kendall Series Book 5)

by Stacy Green

  He kept staring, almost blankly, as if he’d stepped out of himself and his body was just a shell. Just as startling, he suddenly snapped back to himself. “I want to hear you say you won’t have sex with Preacher.”

  “Fine, I won’t.” I didn’t plan to. But if it came down to being the only way to get information, I’d be forced to reconsider it. But saying that aloud to Chris was not a smart idea. Or a necessity.

  He shook his head. “How am I supposed to believe you? You lied to me once. You said you wouldn’t meet with Preacher alone.”

  “That wasn’t a lie. I told you, it happened quickly. I couldn’t risk turning him down.”

  “You didn’t want me there.” He raised an eyebrow, his glare hollow and cold, daring me to challenge him.

  I felt meek–my own out-of-body experience. “No, I didn’t. It was too risky.”

  “Right.”

  We stood at a standoff, invading each other’s personal space as only the most intimate of partners do.

  I stepped back. “I can take care of myself. See you around.” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I rushed into the blistering cold before he could stop me. Icy air stole my breath, and I blinked at the crushing wind. Chris had just enough time to catch up to me and block my path.

  “How can you even consider this?”

  I blinked against the bitter air. “I can handle it.”

  “You think so. But once he’s got you alone, who knows what will happen? How far you’ll allow yourself to go to get what you want?”

  I brushed past him in search of my car. “That’s none of your business.”

  “You’re my business.” He grabbed my arm, his strength throwing me off guard. “I’m your alibi, remember? Willing to lie for you. That makes you indebted to me.”

  I yanked my arm away. “Which I intend on paying back as soon as I take care of this problem.”

  “What? This trafficking thing? You think you’re going to bring that down?” He was on the verge of laughter. I wanted to dig my nails into his cheek.

  “Kelly’s doing her best, digging around in the online depths. She’ll find something that points to this operation eventually. But until then, I’ve got Sarah’s death and Preacher to deal with. I’ll find out who’s in charge. Maybe Riley and some of those kids will have a way out.”

  “Sure. As if it will all work out happily ever after.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that this isn’t just a few people, Lucy. This is a network that’s bigger than you, and you’re never going to find them all. Banging some worker bee for information isn’t the answer.”

  My teeth were clenched against cold and rage. “Good thing that’s not for you to decide.” I turned again to walk away.

  “You can’t keep doing this.” Chris kept the pace. I wished he would slip on the ice-covered parking lot. My eyes teared from the wind. Where the hell was my car?

  “You’re running in circles with this, and you know it.”

  “We’ve had this discussion.”

  “And we’re having it again.”

  I stopped again, searching. Finally I spotted the Prius in the opposite direction. I turned on my heel and started marching forward.

  “Look, I appreciate your concern. But I don’t need you to be my moral center, okay?”

  He held up his hands in a sign of defeat. “Fine. It’s all about what you need, anyway. So what it is you want from me? What am I supposed to tell you?”

  “I wanted to know what you thought of the information I had,” I said. “About the Senator being at Ward 8 and the busboy knowing both him and Preacher. I think I’m missing something, and it can’t be just the Senator’s involvement.”

  “Why not?” He asked. “People lead double lives all the time. Look at you. You lie to friends and enemies alike.”

  His guilt trip crawled onto my skin like a filthy mite and made a nest. I didn’t have time for that sort of thing. Guilt is for the weak. “That’s not fair.”

  “Probably not, but I’m not taking it back. Not right now.”

  “Whatever.” I unlocked my car, fumbling with the ignition. I’d figure things out on my own. Easier than being held accountable to someone for my every thought and decision.

  Chris rapped his knuckles on my window. I shook my head. He rapped again.

  “Asshole.” I dug my fingertip into the button to roll the window down. “What?”

  “You want to know what I think?” He asked.

  I shrugged. Damned if I’d admit that his opinion mattered now.

  “I think there are no coincidences, and you need to walk away from this before it gets a lot worse.”

  If I were an alcoholic I’d head for the bar right now. Shame coated my skin, resentment filled my head. I needed Chris in my life. And yet sometimes I wished he’d never approached me. No matter what he’d said earlier, his allegiance was unconditional. The thought warmed me, yet also brought a needling despair. With Kelly safely hidden behind her computer, I never answered to anyone. Now I’d somehow put myself in the position of both needing Chris’s help and having to ask for his moral permission. As if I needed his consent. I didn’t want to operate that way, but the fault was my own. Using him as my alibi had been selfish and stupid. But he’d come through as I knew he would, moral baggage and all. But did that give him the right to be the voice of my conscience?

  My hand cramped from shooting. I eased my grip on the steering wheel and took the exit to Northern Liberties. Sleep is what I needed. My brain could reset and approach the problem rationally. I’d find a solution, just as I always did.

  17

  Parking in Northern Liberties was brutal in the winter, and my cheeks were chapped and frozen by the time I reached the door to my building. Inside the lobby, trying to shake off the cold and fatigue, I didn’t see Detective Todd Beckett until he stepped out from behind the row of mailboxes.

  “Nastiest day yet.”

  I stumbled back into the wall. “Good God. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry about that. It’s too cold to wait outside. I needed to speak with you in person.”

  Suspicion roiled through me. “About what?”

  He didn’t waste time. Our relationship had long progressed past the bullshitting stage. “Several green fibers were found with Sarah’s body. Our lab believes them to be cashmere.”

  An icy sensation spiderwebbed down my back as Todd continued. “Witnesses at Exhale and at Maisy’s stated you were wearing a green dress, and more than one believed it to be cashmere. The girl at Exhale specifically remembered it because you normally dressed very…drab. That was the word she used.”

  So my vanity had royally screwed me over. “All right.”

  “So I need the dress. For fiber analysis.” He showed me the signed warrant.

  “You know we interacted, and her body was found near my desk. The fibers being a match aren’t a stretch.”

  Todd fluffed his hair, the roots damp. “But these were found mixed in with her blood. Unless they migrated from her dress to the gaping wound in the back of the head, it doesn’t look good for you.”

  Confusion and panic mixed together for a heady cocktail. I hadn’t killed Sarah. The green fibers might not match. But what if they did? It was enough to arrest me, maybe even take me to trial. Circumstantial evidence had done plenty of people in.

  Images of my apartment made me dizzy. Everything was hidden. They’d never find my stash of poison and other supplies. My head cleared. “Let me see it, please.”

  I read the orders carefully. “You’re allowed to recover the dress only.”

  “Of course. What else would I look for?”

  I said nothing. I didn’t need to. The implication hung between us, impairing my ability to think straight. Todd finally jerked a nod. “I’ll follow you.”

  The air inside the elevator steamed with tension. My chest felt as if it would crack from the imaginary weight bearing down on it. “There�
�s more to this.”

  Todd leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator. “Excuse me?”

  “Something you’re not telling me.”

  He smiled grimly. “There’s lots I don’t tell you.”

  “I’m talking about Sarah’s murder. Downstairs, when you said your boss wanted it solved yesterday, you weren’t looking me in the eyes. You always look me in the eyes.”

  He sighed, leaning toward me, his fingers outstretched. I froze as he moved a lock of hair off my face. “You give me too much credit.”

  Neither one of us spoke again until we reached my door.

  “It’s not the cleanest.” I turned the key, hoping my hand wasn’t shaking. “I left in a hurry this morning.”

  Todd slipped on a pair of blue, latex gloves. “I’m not inspecting your hygiene. By the way, the Senator was happy to hand over the phone you stole from Sarah once he found out it was part of a murder investigation. He also gave me a copy of all the legwork you’ve done. Interesting. You really believe she was involved.”

  I refused to play his game. “I’ll just get the dress. It’s in the laundry.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’m sorry to say, it doesn’t have any blood stains.” I headed for the bedroom, thinking about the compartment in my bedroom closet. My neck muscles felt tight as rope, my insides a maze of painful knots. The compartment was in the closet, behind a shoe rack, and barely visible even to me. Todd wouldn’t see it. He had no right to search as long as I gave him the dress. Everything would be fine.

  Mousecop started up from the bed when Todd entered the room. He ambled to the corner and eyed the detective with suspicion. At least someone was on my side.

  “Fat cat,” Todd said.

  “He’s healthy.” I moved to the bathroom, but Todd caught my arm.

  “I’d like to get it myself.”

  My jaw tightened. I pointed to the door. “It’s in the wicker hamper. Halfway down. Please keep your hands off my delicates.”

  He had the decency to look embarrassed.

  My mind wandered to every criminal case I’d ever read. Most of the prolific ones who believed they were smarter than the police were all caught by silly mistakes or blind luck.

  Would my story end with blind luck?

  Not that I was like any of those criminals. I didn’t stalk the innocent. My killing had a purpose. I made society safer. And I certainly wasn’t drawn in by the thrill of the hunt. No, it was a duty. A necessary evil.

  I grew short of breath. My legs jerked with the urge to defend myself. I sat down on the bed, refusing to look at the bathroom.

  “How’s Justin?” I had to say something, distract myself somehow. “Still seeing that girl?”

  A muffled shuffling came from behind the bathroom door. “Fine. And yes as far as I know. What about you?”

  “What?”

  “You and Chris? Since you were with him the night Sarah Jones was murdered.”

  I blew out a hard breath, trying to think of the right response. All I could see was my little storage cache. Insulin and cyanide and needles and the ketamine I’d bought just a few weeks ago. Todd was too close. “I don’t discuss my personal life with someone trying to pin a murder on me.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing,” Todd called back. “I’m trying to solve a murder.”

  “You might want to look in the right place then.”

  His footsteps made my heart pound. Why was he walking so fast?

  He reappeared with the wrinkled dress in an evidence bag. I wanted to remind him how much it cost, but I refrained.

  “Get everything you needed?”

  “I think so.” He made a show of sealing the bag, his gaze flickering to the bed and then back to me, sitting rigid. Pink dotted his cheeks.

  And then I knew. Knew how to regain control, how to bring him over to my side. It was as easy as doing what came naturally.

  I made myself relax, leaning back on my hands. My hair dangled toward the mattress, a wispy lock grazing my jaw. “Do you really believe I killed Sarah Jones?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he looked steadily out the window. “I think you had a motive.”

  “Please, enlighten me.”

  “You believed she was trafficking kids. Then she allegedly admitted it to you, makes a deal.” He played with the corner of the bag. “You show up, and she’s been lying. Maybe she’s going to take care of you herself. Then it was self-defense.”

  I shook my head. “Then wouldn’t there be blood on the dress?”

  “Maybe it’s on your coat.”

  “But you don’t have a warrant for that.” I smiled, cocking my head and twisting so that my v-neck collar inched toward my cleavage. “Of course, it’s the same one I was wearing earlier. And no, it hasn’t been dry cleaned.”

  Uncertainty flashed across his face. We both knew the fibers, no matter where they were located, weren’t enough. “Why didn’t you tell me you were researching more cases than just Sarah’s?” He changed the subject.

  “You didn’t ask. I told you everything I knew about Sarah Jones. And what have you done with it?” With my secrets safe, my anger mounted. This is why I no longer believe in the system: Todd refused to listen, focusing on what society deemed the more important issue. “You know, with everything your brother went through at the hands of Mother Mary, I expected you to be more compassionate toward these kids.”

  His nostrils flared, his thin upper lip nearly disappearing. “Do not question my devotion to this city. I handed all of your information to the special victims unit, which is what you should have done instead of taking it to the Senator. You chose him because of some kind of agenda.”

  “You’re right. He’s got the power to get things done. You guys have to work around red tape and make sure you give these monsters their due process.”

  “I don’t like the way our legal system works, either. But I’m a documenter of facts–that’s my job. To find out the truth and then give it to the District Attorney’s office. I can’t control what they do with it, and believe me, sometimes that’s a hard pill to swallow. But we’re all bound to obey the law. Even you.”

  I slid off the bed, my shoes clacking against the wood floors. We faced off, Todd looking ready to run. I stepped closer. He tensed. The knowledge of the power I held over him spurred me on.

  “I know you’re doing your job.” I lowered my voice. “And I don’t make it easy. But I’ve been honest with you.”

  “You haven’t given me the kid’s name, the one you intercepted. I can’t confirm any part of your story without it. It’s all hearsay against a dead woman.”

  “You have the phone now.”

  He flushed deep red. “It’s useless. Some kind of protection program had been installed. Whoever the Senator had working on it screwed up, and the entire thing erased its data. We’re trying to recover something off the SIM card, but it’s a fifty-fifty shot.”

  Screwed up? Coleman had assured me he had some of the best technical people around. How could they screw up something so basic?

  Todd looked down at his feet. His loafers were scuffed, and the brown leather looked worn thin. It’s a wonder he didn’t fall on the ice. “Tell me the kid’s name. Give me something to work with.”

  “How is that going to help? I only have a first name, and I don’t know where to find her.”

  “Maybe I can. If you’re right, and Sarah was killed because of this sex trade thing, this kid might know something. Something that could get you off the hook.” He failed to hide the pleading note in his voice.

  “I thought you wanted to bring me down, Detective Beckett.”

  “I want to find out the truth. I want to be trusted with the truth.”

  But you’re an honorable man. A good cop. Even if you believed I’d done the right thing in killing the Harrisons and all the others, you’d still have to follow the law. You couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t.

&nb
sp; Still, Todd was right. Withholding Riley’s name meant I could be setting myself up for big trouble. But betraying her meant risking the chance at earning her trust.

  Self-preservation, my dead sister’s voice whispered in my head.

  This would be on my terms. Stepping closely enough to Todd so that our personal spaces disappeared, I gazed up at him with wide and hopefully frightened eyes. “Promise me you won’t arrest her. Think about Justin and what a wrongful arrest did to him.”

  The emotional impact was obvious. Todd sucked in a breath and briefly closed his eyes. He bore the same guilt over his younger brother as I did.

  “I promise.”

  “Her name is Riley, and she lives somewhere in North Philly. This guy Preacher seems to oversee them all, and I’m pretty sure he lives a double life.”

  Just like me.

  “What do you mean?”

  I told Todd about Strawberry Mansion.

  “Jesus,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone there.”

  “I’m trying to find answers. Sometimes that means big risks.”

  He shook his head, half reaching for me, then fisted his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Thanks for trusting me.”

  “Don’t make me regret it.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He started for the door, pausing to lean against the frame. “Listen, it’s not just me, all right? Exhale had a lot of powerful clients, and they’re upset. Which means they’re leaning on the boss. Get it?”

  My smile was brittle. I’d known Todd was omitting something crucial downstairs. “Of course. And that, Detective, is our justice system in a nutshell.” I debated and then figured throwing more chips on the table couldn’t hurt me. “Sarah told me a lot of her salon clients were indirectly involved in the sex trade. Some of them were sent there because of the kids, and they brought along their spouses for pampering and to make themselves look good. You get it?” I tossed his words back at him.

  With his back to me, all I saw was the rigid set of his shoulders. “Got it.”

  I locked the door behind him. Now that the threat was over, necessity fueled my thoughts. I needed to get to Riley before Todd did and warn her about him. And what the hell did the Senator’s people do to the phone? Even worse, did he know Preacher as it had seemed last night? Had I sent Sarah into a trap?