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

by Stacy Green

  This time his smile was full, revealing dimples that took ten years off his age. “Come on now. If we had the time, sure, we’d go through the system. But it moves slow and these people are paranoid. Preacher or one of his lieutenants get a whiff we’re coming, they’re gone.”

  “His lieutenants?”

  “Like I said. The older boys.”

  My fake laugh made my throat sting. “What does that make Preacher? The admiral?”

  “That’s Navy,” he said. “Preacher’s the captain. His boss is the general.”

  “You were Army?” I knew the answer already, but asking made the conversation keep flowing.

  “That’s right. Served in Desert Storm.”

  I thought about all the images of the Iraqi wars we’d been bombarded with over the past decades. “Which is worse? Being a Philadelphia cop or war?”

  “Being a cop is war.”

  I saw Riley before John did. She came from the same direction as blue cap kid, her chin tucked against her chest and her hands jammed in her pockets. She wore the same faded knit hat, and wisps of her dark hair fluttered in the freezing wind. A young, dark skinned boy walked with her, clutching her hand. Every limb tensed. Was the boy a victim too?

  “There.” I pointed.

  “You’re up,” John said. “If she runs, don’t follow her too far. I can’t give my position away to cover you.”

  “Right.” I stepped out into the frigid air. At least the wind had slowed down today. But the still, cold air embedded its way through clothes within seconds. Even my eyelashes were cold.

  Dodging equally freezing passersby, I stepped into Riley’s path. “Hi Riley. Do you remember me?”

  She stopped as if someone had yanked her from behind. Her wool hat was worn through in places and her coat much too thin. Surely she made enough money to buy something warmer at the Salvation Army. Riley took a step back. The boy mirrored her stance. On closer inspection, he was even younger than I thought, perhaps eight. He didn’t have anything on his head in this miserable weather. Riley glared at me, “What do you want?”

  “Just to talk to you.” I cocked my head toward the end of the block. “There’s a tiny coffee shop. Let me buy you something hot to eat.”

  Riley glanced around, eyes wide and face chapped with cold. “You trying to set me up with the cops?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  The little boy stared up at her with wide brown eyes. With his long lashes and plump lips, he was too pretty to be a boy. My heart ached at the idea of the life he might be leading.

  “I’m babysitting,” Riley said. “He’s too little to be hearing this.”

  “That’s no problem. This place is kid friendly. He can hang out in the little toy area while we talk.”

  “How am I supposed to trust you?”

  I took a chance. “Because I knew Sarah too. And I’d like to find out who killed her.”

  Riley didn’t tell me the boy’s name. After making sure he was settled with some worn plastic toys and dog-eared books at the shop’s kid zone, she sat across from me, suspicion rolling off her.

  “What do you want to eat?”

  She shrugged. I ordered us both black coffees and warm, gooey banana nut muffins, plus one for the little guy.

  She raised her eyebrow. “Coffee for a kid? Nice.”

  “Somehow I figured you for a coffee drinker.”

  Her answer was a noncommittal shrug. She ripped off a piece of the muffin and stuffed it into her mouth with an appreciative moan. “So good.”

  It was good and worth every carb. I let her eat and thought about how best to approach her. “Who’s the little guy belong to?”

  “A friend,” she said. “Can’t get out of the life, but that doesn’t mean her kid needs to see it.”

  I nodded. “I’m glad you’re trying to shield him.”

  She didn’t seem impressed with my compliment, instead staring me down with dark eyes that had seen enough bad things for two lifetimes. “I don’t think you were Sarah’s friend.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you tried to catch me. You wouldn’t have done that if you were Sarah’s friend.”

  “First off,” I leaned forward. “I never said I was Sarah’s friend. I said I knew her. And I wasn’t trying to catch you. I was trying to help you. Believe me, if I wanted you caught, I’d have done it.”

  She laughed. “Right. Because your pretty boyfriend had to save you.”

  “Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.” I let the words sink in. What would she think if she knew she sat across from a woman who’d killed several men? Would it matter that I’d saved countless children? Or would she see only in black and white?

  “So why do you want to find out who killed Sarah?”

  Because I’m a suspect, and I’d like to clear my name. “Because she didn’t deserve to die.” The lie came smoothly, as so many others did. “And because I think she was killed by the people you work for.”

  She stiffened. “You don’t know who I work for.”

  “Preacher.”

  Her dark eyes gazed at me over her still full cup of coffee. Steam swarmed her young face, creating an off-putting picture of a half devil, half lost child. “You know Preacher?”

  “I know of him. So do other people.”

  “Your mistake.”

  “You don’t like him.”

  She finally took a drink of coffee. “Tastes better with cream and sugar. You don’t know what I think, lady. Unless you’re a mind reader, and if you are, you’re in the wrong business.”

  “Nope. I’m just observant. I saw the way you looked when I said his name. Voice got a little harder.” I pushed my cup aside and leaned across the table. “You don’t like him at all. But do you think he killed Sarah?”

  Riley jerked back. “How the hell would I know? And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

  “You’re scared of him. But you’re also loyal, because he saved you in some way. He takes care of you. But I bet he also takes care of your ID and your money, right? Keeps your clothes and whatever personal belongings close in case you decide you’ve had enough?”

  She glared at her coffee. The muscles in her narrow cheeks flexed.

  “I don’t blame you. He seems like an intimidating guy.”

  “He likes being boss.” She unconsciously rubbed her arm and winced.

  Preacher was a nobody on his home streets, but here, he was a captain, second only to the general. Watching Riley rub her arm and brood into her coffee, I wondered how far Preacher liked to take his much relished authority.

  “What happens if you guys want out?”

  “Why would we want out? We get easy money.”

  I couldn’t play the social worker here. Riley didn’t want to listen to me tell her she was worth more than this, that I could help her if she would only allow it. And I certainly couldn’t threaten bringing her to the police. She needed to be considered an equal with something important to say. And she needed someone to listen.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “But what if you do change your mind? Decide you want to move on to something else?”

  “Not a lot of options out there for kids like me.”

  I bit back the lecture. “But if you thought there were, and you told Preacher you were done, would he let you go?”

  Riley took another bite of her muffin. And then another. Bite, chew. Bite, chew. I waited.

  Finished, she folded the crumb-covered wrapper into a neat triangle, smooshing it flat. “I swear you seem familiar.”

  I made a show of raising a single eyebrow. “That’s because we met the other night at the Rattner.”

  “No, before that. Something about your voice.”

  My stomach twisted in knots. “Honestly, I don’t know how you remember any details given the amount of people you deal with. Can you stop avoiding my question? Would Preacher let you go?

  She ripped the triangular shaped paper in half. “He says so, but most of the girls don’t
try to leave. They’re all like me. But there was one kid…”

  She chewed a nicely manicured fingernail. Did Preacher do that himself or did he actually take her to a salon? Obviously she’d been around long enough to earn enough trust to venture out on her own. Riley rubbed her arm again. “She came from western Pennsylvania, and she did well enough for a while. Then her mom got sick, and she wanted to go home. Preacher said she could go. Even helped her get a ride.”

  “Really?”

  Riley nodded. “He knew a guy from Ohio passing close enough to her place and got her a ride. Some long haul semi driver in a truck the color of a nasty booger. Pulled up at the motel we were staying at and took up half the parking lot.”

  I kept my face still as stone.

  “And some of the boys,” she glanced at me, watching for my reaction, “they’re from other places around the country. He doesn’t let us talk to them much. We don’t really see them. But I heard about one boy who wanted out and was going to go to a safe house for troubled boys. Knew a lady there that would help him, no questions asked. He disappeared.”

  “You don’t think he’s at the safe house?”

  “I know he’s not. A few weeks after he left, I went and checked. Wanted to say hi.” She squashed the mashed paper with her knuckles. “Maybe I was thinking about starting over too. Lady who wanted to help him said he never showed up. I left. When I got back to my place, Preacher showed up a few minutes later with Sam, one of the older boys. Total asskisser and wannabe. They kept asking me questions about my day, like they were suddenly concerned I was running loose in the city. Preacher looked pissed, and I just got this feeling. Bad feeling. He hasn’t hit me in a long time, but I thought he was going to.”

  So Riley was already a career girl, as I’d thought. Preacher probably watched her from a distance for a while, making sure she was worth the approach. He was good enough to know he had to snag her at her most vulnerable. “Where do you live now?”

  “Not telling you that.”

  “Does it at least have four walls and a roof?”

  “Yeah. We all do. Preacher makes sure of that, even if they aren’t worth a shit. Got hot water too.”

  “Does Preacher know about your little friend back there?” I watched the boy crawl on his hands and knees pushing a tiny, yellow dump truck.

  “No.” Her voice was hard. “He don’t like girls with kids. And he’s not getting to this one.”

  “So you think he forces kids into this life?”

  She shrugged. “Probably. They all do it. You know how many sickos out there would be interested in him?” She jerked her head toward her busy charge. “I know he’s got stuff online, a big website full of kids I’ve never seen.”

  I leaned forward. “How do you get to the site? Do you know the name?”

  “I only saw it once,” she said. “He shut it down and yelled at me for spying on him. I think you need a password.”

  I had at least a portion of her trust. Sarah must have treated her kindly, or Preacher had given her one too many beatings. Or maybe she just wanted out and was feeling around for a solution. I decided to keep pushing. “I don’t know how old you were when you got into this life, but the little kids you’re talking about, they’re not being coerced or convinced to believe they’re doing what they want to do. They’re being taken and flat out forced. Just like what you’re afraid Preacher will do to your friend’s son if he finds out about him.”

  White-faced, she shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

  “If you wanted to help them, you could get Preacher’s laptop and bring it to me,” I said. “I could take it to people who could–”

  Her eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me? He’s all I got, and there’s a lot worse people I could end up with.” She snapped her head back and forth. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you. No freaking way am I going to steal from him.”

  Now wasn’t the time to waste energy and convince her. He’d had her long enough she probably couldn’t be set straight. “So back to Sarah and Preacher. What do you think happened?”

  Riley started tearing the wrapper into tiny pieces, scattering crumbs all over the table. She mashed those down with her fingers.

  “I promise you can trust me,” I said.

  She made a disgusted noise. “Everyone says that. But they’re liars.”

  “You’re right. People lie. I lie. All the time. I know how to get what I want from just about anybody. I learned from a young age how to manipulate people, and it’s getting easier and easier.”

  She looked as if she didn’t know whether to believe me. “This isn’t helping me trust you.”

  I smiled. “But you know what? Kids are the only people I’ve ever been really devoted to. That’s why I was a social worker for ten years, and that’s why I left.”

  “If you left, then you’re not devoted.”

  “Wrong. I’m more devoted than ever. I’m out here with no one to answer to, doing whatever it takes to protect you guys.”

  She considered this. “I don’t think you’ll turn me in. But I don’t think you can protect me, either. If Preacher found out I talked to you, he’d kill me.”

  If only she knew the truth. Would she feel safe then? My ego chattered in my ear, at war with my common sense. But who would Riley tell, really? Who would believe her?

  “Did you know,” I started, “that a few weeks ago, a young boy was dropped off at a fire station in Maryland. He’d been the victim of a national sex trafficking ring. And he was brought from Ohio. Some people think he was sold to a man driving a semi. You know, a long haul driver.”

  Riley stared. The fear and apprehension on her face thrilled me on some deep level I didn’t want to acknowledge. As if feeding the beast would give it so much power I’d lose myself.

  “What’s even more interesting,” I continued, “is that a few days later, a truck driver was found dead not twenty miles away, in a green semi. He was half dressed, and at first police thought he had a heart attack and froze to death. But drug tests are showing something wasn’t right. Some people think that man was killed because he was helping sell kids.”

  She swallowed hard, looking as terrified as the elementary school kid hearing about Bloody Mary for the first time. “Who are some people?”

  “The ones who are willing to help you.”

  That was all she was going to get. I’d risked enough already.

  She looked over at her small charge, still playing happily with the truck. Sensing her attention, he waved and gave her a gap-toothed grin.

  “I don’t know if Preacher killed Sarah,” Riley finally said. “He didn’t like her paying special attention to me. He threatened her about spending alone time with me. She was better than you think, you know.”

  I didn’t argue the point. “And Preacher?”

  “He hasn’t acted sad over her dying. Pissed he’s lost a location. But that’s not what bothers me.” She took a deep breath. “Sarah had this locket. Always wore it. Some kind of special meaning.”

  I had no idea if the necklace was found with her body, but I had the feeling I was about to find out.

  “The thing is,” Riley said. “Preacher’s wearing it now.”

  Riley was long gone by the time I rejoined John in the car. I slammed the door shut and shivered in the cold. I’d given the little guy my hat, and my forehead was freezing.

  “Well?” John sounded impatient.

  My mind warred. Telling John meant more muscle to use against Preacher and a witness to help sell the truth to the police. But did I trust him and the Senator? The nagging feeling I hadn’t been able to pin down since talking with the Senator finally clarified itself. Why did he need me? John might not have any connection with Riley, but he had enough experience he would have figured out a way. My involvement felt more like a distraction. A way to keep my nose out of whatever was really going on.

  “It sounds like it’s business as usual since Sarah’s murder, but I may have a lead on a traff
icking case.” I gave John the information about Riley’s friend. “I’ve got a name and description, but I don’t know if that will help. At any rate, maybe that will make the Senator realize there is more than just prostitution going on.”

  John grunted. “Maybe. I’ll drop you off at your car.”

  20

  Some time before dawn, the piercing ring of my cellphone drummed me out of a terrifying dream. Floating in darkness, in a void as big as space, I silently screamed for help. At the breaking point of my vision was Chris, watching helplessly, his outstretched hand much too far away for me to grab. Just as the last vestige of him faded, the phone rang.

  Bleary and still semi-trapped in the dream, I hit the green button and forgot to speak.

  “Hello?” Todd Beckett said. “Lucy?”

  “What? Yeah, it’s me. What time is it?”

  “4 a.m. I shouldn’t be calling you. But for some damn reason, I’m risking my job.”

  The cobwebs cleared even as my limbs turned to heavy weights. “What is it?”

  “As a former social worker, your DNA is in the system.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “The skin under Sarah Jones’s fingernails has been positively identified as yours.”

  Sweat trickled down from my hairline and into my ear. “Are you still at home?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m outside your building. I think it’s better if we speak in person.”

  All my fears balled into a knot in the middle of my shoulder blades. I couldn’t let him know how scared I was. That would cause mistakes. “Give me five minutes.”

  Todd refused to take off his coat, standing in the middle of my living room in his trench coat, his ears pink from the cold. I should have offered him coffee, but I didn’t want to take the time to make it. “You know she and I had physical contact at Maisy’s.”

  “The problem is, we’ve got two different witnesses at Maisy’s who confirm your altercation and also confirm the dress you wore. Green on a redhead stands out.” His eyes flickered to mine and then just as quickly to the wall behind me. “They’re still testing those fibers. But if they match, I’ll have to bring you in on a hold.”