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

by Stacy Green

  It made perfect sense, especially if father and daughter had spent decades killing together. “But according to Todd’s father, the two of them fell out after this wreck that landed her in the hospital. And for all we know, he had severe injuries too.” I said. “I guess after she left Justin and their dad, Mary reunited with her own father.”

  “Moths to a flame,” Lennox said. “They couldn’t stay away from each other.”

  Despair crept up on me for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “There’s not going to be an address. They’re transients. Everything we’re doing is running in circles. We’re filling in part of the puzzle that answers why, but it’s not getting us any closer to finding Chris. You know that.”

  He looked at me for too long. “Let’s you and I speak privately.”

  For the second time, the energy of the room drained. The look in his eyes was too dark, too knowing. Too much like the one he’d given Frost.

  But I didn’t have a choice. I followed him into the hall and then stopped, angling for some sort of control over the situation. “Go ahead.”

  “You’re giving up on me,” Lennox said. “On your friend?”

  “That’s not it at all.” I knew he was just warming up, but I played along. “We’re chasing two different timelines, and the only thing it’s telling us is that Mary and her father are a couple of psychopaths who attacked girls on his long-haul routes.”

  “And what else?”

  “Mary learned her trade from him,” I said. “The two of them are probably co-dependent. I don’t know if sexual abuse was involved, but he definitely brainwashed her from an early age. She was taught to kill.”

  Lennox had wandered over to the coffee pot. He sniffed the remnants of this morning’s coffee and quickly set the pot back on the burner. “And now she’s taking care of an aging father. We know that’s her weak link. No matter what details we don’t know, that man is our ticket. We get our hands on him, Mary folds. Tell me, why do you think they’re back in Dale City?”

  “Because that’s where she was born,” I said without thinking. “Her father might have first killed there. Isn’t that where she lived with her grandmother until Alan took her out on the road?” I asked.

  “As far as we know right now, yes.”

  “But again, what we’re doing isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  “Sure it is,” Lennox said. “You’re finding out the psychology we need to use as a weapon. If the time comes to barter for Chris’s life, everything you’re finding out will help me.”

  “I see.” I took a chance, hoping my finding out about Frost had gained me a few brownie points. “And you’re also keeping me busy. Out of your hair of the immediate investigation.”

  He smiled, that same fake, friendly smile that made me want to punch him. “That too. But aren’t I doing you a favor?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “Sure you do.” He kept smiling. “What happens if you run across Mary and her little family? How long would you allow her to survive?”

  My blood chilled. “You’re wrong.”

  He stepped forward, pointing his long finger at me. “I’m not, but the thing is, right now, I don’t care. I don’t care about some slime bucket named Preacher who helped traffic kids. I don’t care about the Harrison brothers or whoever else you might have targeted. All wastes of space. Believe me, I get the temptation. But what I do care about is answers from Mary Weston. I want to know how many girls she and her father killed over the years. I want to be able to close case files for as many families of missing persons as I can. That is my focus, along with saving your friend before he gets sucked into the family fold. If you don’t prevent me from doing that, your past just might stay there. Are we clear?”

  I’m sure he could hear my thunderous heart, and if he couldn’t, the sweat on my face was a dead giveaway. “Crystal.”

  28

  Evening fell with no new information. I couldn’t stand the thought of one more greasy dinner from the local joint, and I wasn’t sure I could keep the food down anyway. Lennox had essentially called me out, dangling a carrot: play nice, or I’ll ruin your life. Not that my actions had earned me anything less. Lennox executed a perfect pass, and it was up to me to either run out of bounds yet again or take it into the end zone.

  Neither option appealed to me. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to climb into bed, hide beneath the covers, and forget all the messed up things I’d learned. But my brain wouldn’t allow it. Like a prizefighter, it slung itself off the ropes and staggered back into the ring for the next round. But no opponent waited for me. At least none I could see. Flashes of people, first Mary, then the shaggy male, and then her aging father leaning on Chris as though his life depended on it. Who was the real enemy? If Lennox actually caught up with the group, would Chris try to play interference? He might not be aware of the things his grandfather had done. For all we knew, Mary and Alan had convinced Chris he was no more than a dying old man who just wanted to get to know the grandson the Hales had robbed him of.

  Was Chris foolish enough to believe it?

  Kelly emerged from the bathroom, face pink from her shower, her wet hair still clinging to her head, its darkness contrasting with her pale skin. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Lennox knows what I did. What I’ve done. He can’t prove it, and he doesn’t care. As long as I don’t screw things up with Mary.”

  “He wants to make a name for himself,” Kelly said. “Closure to the families is just a bonus.”

  “Either way, it might give me the chance to start over, just like we talked about.”

  Never mind that I wasn’t sure if I could do that. Until now, I hadn’t really dared to believe it was an option, and I still doubted Lennox’s sincerity. What was to stop him from using this on me time and time again?

  Kelly tightened her robe and sat down on the bed. “Can I tell you something?”

  I nodded.

  “This whole experience has been scary as hell, but it’s also really freaking fascinating,” she said. “I mean, a father-daughter killing team that spanned decades? This is the kind of thing you see on televisions shows. It’s not supposed to happen in real life. And yet here these two are, still going in some capacity. How does that happen?”

  “Crazy breeds crazy,” I said. “Nature versus nurture. Most people–including myself–believe it’s a combination of both. But nurture is also about the perception of the bad guy. It’s a weakness in their own mind. How many people withstand horrible abuse and get through it, like you have? A lot more than the ones who go on to kill. Even if they have lifelong problems, they’re not killing people. So there’s some component of their minds that doesn’t process like everything else, and the nurture is like a disease.” I rolled over to face her. “And before you ask me where that leaves me, I have no idea. I’m probably a case for crazy breeds crazy. It’s not like my background is Americana.”

  Kelly smoothed her hair back. “Crazy breeds crazy. Where does that leave Chris?”

  We looked at each other, neither one of us wanting to voice the answer. My phone dinged with a text from Todd.

  Turn on the television, channel 9 out of Baltimore.

  I scrambled for the remote, my stomach lurching as though I’d gone ahead and eaten at the diner anyway. The television flashed on, the artificial light flashing in the darkened room and making my eyes hurt. Finding the station and the source of Todd’s ominous text took less than a minute.

  Beth Ried stood shivering in a royal blue overcoat in a snow-covered field. A distance behind her was the supermax in Greene County. Wind lashed at her, but her pulled-back hair remained immobile. Makeup layered her face, her red lipstick horribly gaudy against the prison backdrop.

  “What in the everlasting hell?” I said. “She moves fast.”

  I turned up the volume.

  Ried looked into the camera with a sparkle in her eyes that seemed meant for only me, her smirk a challenge
. “Sources close to the investigation claim FBI Agent André Lennox and Philadelphia private investigator Lucy Kendall visited notorious killer John Weston in SCI Greene early this morning. Weston’s only son, Christopher Hale, is believed held against his will by his biological mother, a woman known as Mary Weston and Mary Beckett. Recent events in the past several months have brought to light Mary’s involvement in the famed Lancaster killings, but her ex-husband maintained his silence, refusing to implicate his wife. Rumor is that changed today when Lucy Kendall, the private investigator involved in a recent takedown of a high-profile sex-trafficking operation in Philadelphia, spoke to Weston. We’re still trying to find out what exactly John Weston told Kendall, but reports from the prison indicate he gave them valuable information regarding a possible location for Mary Weston.”

  I felt the blood vessels in my face pulse, my hands digging into the cheap motel sheets. “That freaking bitch.”

  “Who would have access to the information?” Kelly asked.

  “The Superintendent made it clear the interview was recorded. For all I know it might be property of the prison, but I assume he and Lennox discussed the need for privacy. I’ve got no idea how many people might have seen it. Lennox is going to blow a gasket. This compromises the entire investigation.”

  “Why? She didn’t give specifics.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Mary needs to think she’s invincible to screw up. That’s when we make our most ridiculous mistakes–when we think we’ve outsmarted everyone, and there’s no way we’ve left anything unchecked. No way she expected John Weston to talk. This is going to screw with her confidence, make her more careful.”

  “Stop saying ‘we,’” Kelly said. “The difference between you is huge.”

  “Not right now.” I sat up, too angry to feel sorry for myself. “We both know how to hide from the police, live a secret life. She might have years of experience on me, but I know what it feels like to have something like this happen. It freaks you out and sucks you right back into your shell.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Kelly said. “Especially if her father is sick and she’s already worried about him. Maybe this will cause her to make a mistake.”

  “Either way,” I said, “this information should not have been leaked. This girl is looking for fame and nothing else.” My blood pressure spiked again, making my pulse race and my face sweat. I wiped my damp hands on my jeans and reached for the bottle of water from the nightstand. God help that stupid girl if I ran into her in the dark of night. I didn’t think I’d need poison to kill her. My bare hands would do, squeezing the life out of her until her eyes popped right out of her mascaraed head.

  “Lucy.” Kelly’s shrill voice halted my backslide. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

  I didn’t want to. The wickedness that burned inside me wanted to snatch justice back into my own hands and make the reporter pay for interfering with us–with me. For putting my name out there for all the world to see. What would the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children think now?

  My gaze shot to Kelly’s concerned one. I cared about the future. About the path I might still be able to take. I couldn’t let the frustration win. Not this time.

  I let Todd inform Agent Lennox of the reporter’s stupidity.

  “He didn’t take it too well.” Todd leaned in the doorway of my and Kelly’s motel room, shifting on his feet. “He’s going to find out who talked at the prison and hang him up by the balls. His quote.”

  “I believe him.” I looked at the duffle bag slung on Todd’s shoulder. “You have to take off tonight? It’s dark and more snow is coming.”

  “I’ve got cases piling up,” he said. “And I’m not sure what more I can do here.”

  “Babysit me,” I said, only half-kidding. “I’m sure Lennox charged you with that. He seems to think I’m going to take off and go rogue.”

  Todd smiled. “Because you’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “Only once or twice.”

  He tried to laugh, but it came out fake and tired. “I’m worried about you in all of this. You’ve found things out about Chris, and he’s coming back changed. If he comes back at all. Where does that leave you?”

  “I’m still figuring that out.”

  “I think you should go to New York,” Todd said. “If the NCMEC wants you, take the shot, Lucy. Start over. The right way, while everyone is still ignoring the forest for the solitude of the trees.”

  I wished I had the meanness to push him away. Grabbing onto the frustration of his supporting me when I didn’t deserve it was much easier than feeling grateful and beholden to him. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Just think about it,” Todd said. “The medical examiner thinks Preacher died of a drug overdose. Working theory is that Jake offed him for causing problems.”

  I couldn’t look him in the eye, so I concentrated on the small mole on his left cheek. “Sounds plausible to me.”

  “It does,” Todd said. “But how many times do you get to pass go without heading to jail?”

  Smiling, I shook my head. “Be careful driving back, please.”

  “I will be.” He glanced behind me. “Goodbye, Kelly. It was nice to finally meet you.”

  She blushed and waved. Once again I knew things would never go back to the way they were, and I was starting to wonder if that might not be so bad. “I think you should see your father.”

  The humor evaporated off Todd’s face, leaving him looking washed-out and angry. “Why?”

  “Because you guys have unfinished business,” I said. “He’s part of the cause of your problems, and Justin’s. You actually have the chance to talk to him about that. Don’t you think you might feel better if you did?”

  “Would you?”

  The root of my problems? What exactly was it? Once upon a time, I would have said it was the bitter injustice of the system, but now I realized my inability to deal with that harkened back to the darkest event of my life. “Yes,” I said. “I would tell my sister how angry I was at her for leaving me and how much I hated myself for not being able to help her.”

  Todd shook his head. “That’s different. She was a victim.”

  “Your father was too. Of life, of Mary. Probably of things you don’t even know about. I’m not saying anything he did was right, or that you should suddenly start having Sunday dinners together. But a single conversation might change your life.”

  “You’re better at reading people than you think, Lucy, and not just the bad ones. Remember that.” He ducked forward, brushing a kiss to my forehead so quickly I almost missed it. Then he left, walking down the hall with a straight back and no intention of looking back.

  29

  “Some guard at the prison ran his mouth.” Lennox dropped his briefcase into one of the rolling chairs sitting next to the table that had become our workstation over the last few days. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and he moved stiffly, stretching his neck. “My people are trying to stow it, but most local stations in Maryland and Virginia picked it up, and then it ran on CNN at 4:00 A.M. this morning. I’m praying Mary was passed out.”

  “She probably never sleeps.” I thought of Mary’s face, inflexible and unrelenting, her expression solid ice. When I’d first met her, I’d assumed this was a result of her true self, her nasty disposition leaking to the surface. And like everyone else, I’d wondered how anyone could have tolerated calling her his significant other. But what about Mary before the accident? How much softer had the planes of her face been? Had some other emotion besides sour indifference shone in her eyes? Surely it must have. She had to have charm by the boatloads, even if her face was more interesting than attractive. That’s the only way she could have sucked her victims into her trap. Accomplices included.

  Mary had to adapt after the accident. She might have taken years to realize she still had the capacity to kill–and maybe the desire even fell dormant with the medicatio
ns–but something had gradually awakened within her, and she started all over again.

  Unless she’d been active the entire time she lived as Todd’s stepmother, and so far, very little evidence pointed to that. Ryan hadn’t been able to find any cases that lined up with any kill Mary had been known to commit. Of course, that wasn’t solid proof, but whatever strange companionship I had with Mary insisted I was right.

  But then again, maybe I really am just another product of crazy breeds crazy.

  “I tracked the reporter down in Baltimore,” Lennox said. He rubbed his eyes. “She was filling in for the morning anchor and almost refused to talk to me. I didn’t get the impression she took my warning very seriously.”

  “The First Amendment is a bitch sometimes,” Kelly said.

  Ryan, shielded by his laptop as always, laughed. Kelly blushed and focused on her steaming coffee.

  “Did your manhunt turn up anything else?” I asked.

  Lennox sat down across from me, his eyelids threatening to close. “Nothing around Dale City. Early this morning, there was a possible sighting in some tiny town about thirty miles northeast of Dale City. Troopers are on it.”

  “Why would they head north?” Kelly asked. “You’d think she’d be running as far south as possible, crossing state lines and complicating the search.”

  “Why’d she go to Dale City in the first place?” Lennox countered. “It’s not that far from here. Even if she and her father are on some pilgrimage, it’s risky.”

  “Alan’s sick,” I said. “We all know that. Chris shows up and gets shot, and tells Mary I’m coming. She’s got to know the police and the FBI will be called in. She doesn’t want Chris to die–at least not yet–and she’s got an ailing father. Maybe she just throws them all into the car and starts driving. She knows she’s going to have a hard time walking into a hospital now, especially once the word is out about Chris.” The more I spoke, the more right the theory sounded. “Her father’s a different story. If he’s using his veteran’s insurance, he can still walk into a hospital and get treated. They’d just have to hope no one put two and two together.”