by Stacy Green
“Is she speaking?”
“To her mother, thank God. She’s the only person she’ll allow near her. The examination was a struggle.”
“Jenna will help her. She knows how.”
“Do you believe in curses? Or fate?” Todd sat down across from me.
“Hell if I know, Detective.”
“I mean, Jesus. First Jenna’s ordeal, and then years later, Kailey’s. Martha wasn’t involved in Kailey’s abduction at all. How can it happen in a family like that when the abuser isn’t related?”
“Some people have really shitty luck,” I said. “It’s not about fate or curses or destiny. It’s about being in the wrong place at the wrong time and catching a predator’s attention.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He gave himself a shake. “So we’ve got Chris’s statement. Let’s hear your side of the story.”
“I’ve told you everything. I’ve got a computer friend who keeps an eye out on the child porn sites. She simply lucked out and saw the feed, recognized Kailey.”
“How did you get Steve’s address? It took us some time.”
“I’d gotten a lead on him a few weeks ago,” I said. “That he might be molesting little girls again. So I tried to check him out. Never found anything conclusive. But like I told you, my friend and I connected him to Jenna after we found out he’d been fired from Philly Fitness. Another coincidence–I’d just happened to see Jenna’s t-shirt when I spoke to her.”
“Yet you don’t believe in fate.”
“No. Luck went our way. That’s it.”
“I’m not sure there’s a difference,” Todd said. “You said you didn’t have anything conclusive on Steve. Meaning that he was molesting again?”
“No, nothing conclusive.”
“What would you have done if you did find something conclusive?”
I’d prepared for this. “Depends on how I found out. If at all possible, I would have been a witness and called the authorities. If not, I would have contacted parents, guardians, CPS, whatever it took.”
“You realize you’re way too close to these cases. It won’t end well.”
Chris’s words flashed back to me. He’d been right, of course. There is no happy ending for me. But at least I will save some kids in the process.
“You’re probably right,” I said. “But I can’t live with myself if I sit back and do nothing.”
“I’m painfully aware of that.”
“What about Steve?”
“He’s been questioned all day. Looks like Kailey isn’t the first child he’s sold. We’re working on getting his connections. Technicians are tearing apart his computer.”
We studied each other for a moment, and despite Todd’s wary expression, his eyes were warm. He understood, at least a little. I decided to offer the olive branch. “I know I’ve been a pain in your ass. But all of it was done with Kailey in mind.”
“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you interfered with the investigation. Repeatedly. And don’t tell me that you saved the kid. Doesn’t excuse what you did. Things could have gone very badly, for everyone.”
“I won’t argue that.”
“Good, because it’s a waste of your breath.”
“Look, arrest me if you feel you have to.” I spread my hands wide in submission. “But leave Chris out of it. He’s got enough to deal with right now, and he went to protect me. I called the shots.”
“He said he was a willing participant.”
“Because I was going to do it with or without his help,” I said. “Did you get the DNA results back? Or identify the bodies from the fire?”
“We’re working on the identification. The medical examiner’s established the child was a female between the ages of 12 and 20. Other body was a male.” He let the words sink in.
I gritted my teeth. “Mother Mary?”
“In the wind. Crime scene techs combed the property. There’s evidence Mary–Martha, whatever the hell she goes by–was up to her old tricks. Holding teenaged girls. There are a few missing persons’ cases in the state that fit the female victim. No sign of other bodies, though. We don’t know if she was running a prostitution ring or buried them somewhere. But there’s fairly fresh blood in the barn.”
Evil never ends. “So, what, she killed the man and the girl and then set the place on fire?”
“We think so, yes. She’s a big woman, probably snuck up on them. There’s signs of blunt force trauma on both skulls.”
“So who was the man in the fire?”
“We assume another patsy, just like Chris’s dad.”
“Is his dad talking?”
“No,” Todd said. “He’s loyal to her, and I don’t pretend to understand why.”
“So Mother Mary is still out there. She’s been free all these years.” My stomach clenched. “Justin was an innocent kid.”
He nodded. “I wonder if being incarcerated saved his life, though. She hated him. I always guessed it, but I didn’t realize how deep her hatred of Justin went.”
“Maybe. But his life isn’t great. And I didn’t help the matter.” I felt ashamed. “I hope he can start again. For a second time.”
“Yeah well, his brother’s going to help with that.”
“Chris? It’s definite, then?”
“It is. Chris’s uncle–the assistant district attorney–is going to file a case to get Justin’s name cleared. We’re filing charges against Mary, and we’re going public. Justin’s terrified, but he wants the truth out there.”
I managed to smile. “Good for him.”
“Speaking of the A.D.A., he’s waiting for you. Along with his nephew.”
“To file charges?” I prepared myself to accept my fate without argument. “Against Chris too?”
“To take you both home.” Todd looked irritated. “Chris used his one phone call the right way. ADA Hale came in here two hours ago and made it clear we weren’t pressing charges against Chris. Apparently his nephew’s got some pull, because the ADA pled your case as well.”
I exhaled, the resulting ache in my chest indicating I’d been more tense than I’d realized. “I’ve never met him.”
“You will in a few minutes.” Todd leaned back in his chair, studying me with intensity. “I wasn’t going to charge you, anyway. I knew it would be tossed out and result in nothing but paperwork. But at least I made you sweat it out.”
“You did. I was nervous.” I stood up, anxious to get out of the cardboard box of a room.
Todd ran his index finger along his moustache. “There’s just one more thing to discuss.”
I swear I heard the creaky wheels of the lethal injection table rolling into the room. I sat back down.
“Brian Harrison was found dead in a parking garage early this morning,” Todd said. “Preliminary autopsy shows he died in a manner very similar to his brother.”
The hairs on the back of my neck spiked. I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to remain neutral. “Really?”
“Yep. Medical examiner said it’s likely a heart attack brought on by years of drug use. He also had fairly fresh tracks on his arms.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not sure why you’re telling me.”
“You know exactly why. Brian Harrison pointed the finger at you for his brother’s murder. Suddenly you’ve got information he might be a suspect in Kailey’s abduction. I know you talked to Hank about the girl Sly Lyle claims he saw being attacked.”
“So?” My skin grew clammy, my mouth dry. I licked my lips and immediately regretted it. “So, we recovered Brian Harrison’s computer. There were a lot of pictures of little girls on it. One of them was Josie, the older girl who walked Kailey home. We think she’s the girl Lyle saw with him.”
“Get her some help, then.” The hammer was about to drop. Let it. Kailey was alive, and I’d taken more than one predator off the streets.
“Brian Harrison’s neighbors witnessed a redheaded woman and a man with a baseball cap near his residence the day before he
died.”
“Again, why are you telling me this?”
“You know why,” Todd snapped. “Since Harrison’s dead after saying you killed his brother, I think it’s pretty easy to put two and two together.”
I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound panicked. “You’re saying I caused both men to have heart attacks? I can be a bitch, but I’m not that bad.”
“Other things can present like a heart attack. Things that go undetected unless a cop can convince his boss to look deeper. But the brass are telling me Harrison’s a convict with no family and a drug addict. Seems open and shut, and the state doesn’t want to spend the extra money for more tox tests. I’d say whoever killed him is getting a reprieve.”
A sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe there’s such a thing as luck after all. “It sounds like you’re the one who’s too close, Detective. I think the Harrison boys just lost out to the white devil.”
He smirked and shook his head. The tension flamed between us, shimmering like a blazing fire against the night sky. “You’re something else, Lucy.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry for anyone affected by the Harrisons’ deaths. But for their loss? The streets are safer without those men.” I shouldn’t have said that.
“Exactly,” Todd said. “I think somehow your dedication to help kids has brought you to a very dark place.”
“You’re probably right.” I stood once more. “That’s why I left Child Protective Services.”
Todd stood as well. He stepped toward me, pulling my chin to force me to look into his eyes. They were quite pretty. I’d always been too busy pondering at the mustache to notice them. “I believe the Harrison brothers were murdered. By someone who knew what they were doing to kids, and I’m afraid that someone might be you. I can’t prove it, but I’m going to be keeping an eye out. More cases like them crop up, I’ll have to start investigating them. You get my drift?”
“Sure. But I think you’re overworked and a little overdramatic.” I pulled away, stepped around him, and reached for the door.
“Lucy, listen to me. Despite all of your antics, I like you. Your dedication to help kids is really admirable, and you’re brave. But if you keep this up, you’ll self-destruct. And the law will catch up with you.”
Of course it would. Hadn’t I known that all along? I just didn’t think the reality would be so hard to accept. “Duly noted. Will you promise me one thing, though?”
He looked at me incredulously. “I owe you a favor?”
“Not me. Josie. Please make sure she gets help.”
“I will. But don’t forget what I said.”
42
Chris stood when I came into the station’s waiting area, followed quickly by a distinguished-looking man with silver hair in a matching gray suit. Sitting beside them was Justin. He stood up too.
“A.D.A. Hale, I presume?” I offered my hand. “Thank you so much for speaking on my behalf. I’m in your debt.”
“Not at all.” The ADA’s grip was firm like his nephew’s. “The way Chris tells it, without you, we would have never put things together with Mary’s crimes.”
“Detective Beckett told me you’re going to help Justin.” I smiled at the boy whose crush I had yet to address. He grinned.
“I’m going to do everything I can.”
“Thank you. He deserves that.” I glanced at Chris, whose sky-colored blue eyes were pale with weariness. “At least you know the truth. And maybe you and Justin can be friends.”
“Maybe.”
ADA Hale patted Chris on the shoulder. “I’ll get the car, and then we’ll head over to impound and pick up Lucy’s vehicle. Then you can both get home and get some rest.”
I waited until he disappeared around the corner.
“Thanks,” I said to Chris. “For everything. Can I talk to Justin privately?”
Chris looked surprised but nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”
Clearly a bundle of nerves, his hands in his pockets and head down, Justin danced from foot to foot.
“Hey,” I touched his arm. What did I say to this boy whose new life I’d nearly ruined? It would be easier if he hated me.
“Hey,” he said.
“Listen, about what you said at your mother’s house? In the upstairs bedroom?”
“Yeah.” He flushed crimson, which only made him look younger. “I’m stupid. You wouldn’t be interested in me.”
“It’s not that. At all. But I’m fourteen years older than you. Considering everything I stand for, it’s inappropriate. I’m not going to give you the whole, ‘sex is about love thing,’ because it isn’t always. But between two people with the kind of history that there is between us? It could ruin any sort of friendship we might have. And I don’t want that.”
His eyes were watery. “You want to be my friend?”
“Of course I do. If you’ll have me.”
“I can deal with that.”
I smiled and linked my arm through his. “Then let’s get out of here.”
Justin left, promising to meet ADA Hale in the morning. ADA Hale dropped Chris and me off at the impound lot, and I thanked him again.
“You could have gone on home with your uncle,” I said after I’d paid for my car. Chris and I wandered the massive lot, searching for my Prius. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’d rather go with you.” He slung his arm around my shoulders. The gesture felt comfortable, easy. In so many ways–the ones that mattered–we were the same. “So Slimy Steve was selling kids. He’ll have fun in prison.”
“At least he’ll stay there this time.” But Steve was just a cog in an ever-growing machine. How many other children were being trafficked while I celebrated? I leaned into his embrace and told myself it was because of fatigue. “You know what I meant back there, right? When I said ‘for everything?’”
“I kept you out of jail.”
“You kept me from killing Steve. I had the cyanide. If you hadn’t have been with me, I would have done it. And I would have been arrested.”
“I know.”
We faced each other, faces close, body heat mingling. “I will take care of Mother Mary.”
“I have no right to ask you to do that. I never should have mentioned it.”
I laid a hand on his chest, over his heart. “You are a good person. You have an aunt and uncle who love you–who have dedicated their lives to helping you prosper. I will not let you throw that away. I won’t let you sink into my dark place.”
Because it would make me feel guilty, and I don’t like what that says about me.
His heart beat against my hand, its steady rhythm calming me. I patted his chest. He took my hand in his and held it close.
“I won’t let you live in the dark place by yourself.”
My throat tightened, a swell of emotion rose in my chest. I swallowed it down. “See? Not a sociopath. Honestly, you’re not even good at pretending to be one.”
He smiled. “If you say so.”
“Just calling it as I see it.”
“That’s what I like about you.” Still holding my hand, he pointed to the southwest corner of the lot. “There it is.”
A huge yawn tore through me, and I gave him the keys. “You drive. I’m taking a nap.”
Inside, the car was warm, and I sank into the seats, my eyes suddenly heavy. “You know the way to my place from here?”
The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin. “Of course I do.”
“Creepy stalker.”
He laughed, pulling out into traffic. Comfortable silence embraced us, and I slid toward sleep.
“Lucy?”
I closed my eyes, longing for the warmth of my bed and the sound of Mousecop’s relentless purring. “Yeah?”
“My mother is dangerous.”
“I know.”
“We have to stop her.”
“We will, I promise.”
I thought again of Kailey on the auction site. Of the predators huddled in front of the
ir computer screens in darkened rooms, waiting to buy a child. Of the masses of kids with no chance of being saved. The police knew what Mother Mary was capable of now. If Todd had his way, all of Philadelphia PD would recognize her on sight.
But what about all the faceless predators with money to burn?
We would look for Mother Mary eventually. But for now, I had other targets in mind.
The mind of a serial killer (even one who refuses to categorize herself as such) is a dark one, filled with dangers and trauma they don’t even let themselves consider. Lucy Kendall’s is no different.
Do you dare to look inside? Sign up here to get her her classified psychological profile sent directly to your inbox: http://smarturl.it/LucyPsychProfile
Please consider leaving a review for All Good Deeds.
Other Books by Stacy
Tin God (Delta Crossroads #1)
Skeleton’s Key (Delta Crossroads #2)
Ashes and Bone (Delta Crossroads #3)
Into the Devil’s Underground
Welcome to Las Vegas (short story)
Acknowledgements
Without a doubt, All Good Deeds is the toughest book I’ve written to date. Writing about such a dark subject takes its toll on a person, but figuring out Lucy was exhausting. Her character came to me in layers, evolving from an arrogant woman who believed she had all the answers to a character I hope readers empathized with. She is dark and twisty and inspired by some of my greatest fears.
Many thanks to Dr. D.P. Lyle (Howdunit Forensics, A Guide for Writers) for his patience and willingness to answer my numerous questions on cyanide, its effect on the body, and its presence at autopsy. Thanks to William Simon for his expertise in computer programming and police procedure. Thanks to the Philadelphia Police Department and the National Center for Exploited and Missing Children for guiding me through the search for Kailey Richardson. Special thanks to Heather Cathrall for being my virtual eyes and ears to the city of Philadelphia.
I’d also like to give a heartfelt thank you to all the survivors of sexual abuse–both childhood and adult–who share their stories so that others may learn from them. Without their bravery, the subject matter would have been even more difficult to handle correctly.