“Bruce.” I handed her cell to her and rolled again, this time to get out of bed.
I heard her answer her call. I went to the bathroom, shut the door, and answered mine.
“Walker.”
“We have fourteen dead kids and three more in the hospital,” Scott Mann said.
“Fourteen?”
“Six from Parkside. Eight from Polytech. Three in the ICU are from Parkside. We need you in the office.”
“Dammit. Be there in twenty.”
I didn’t bother going out to get Mercy, I knew she’d just gotten the same intel. I started the shower, stepped in, and waited for her to join me. It didn’t take long for her to slip behind me. I offered her a bottle of shampoo, she wordlessly accepted it and started washing her hair.
“All I got was fourteen dead, Bruce give you anything more?”
“No. Just that Keith is coming in and he’s bringing in Emma.”
“With her parents?”
“No.”
“That’s going to be a problem. She’s a minor.”
“Not as of midnight. Today is her eighteenth birthday.”
“It’s seven a.m. on a Saturday morning. He say why he’s with the girl this early?”
“Bruce didn’t elaborate. I don’t know if he knows. He just said we were needed.”
“We or you?”
“He started with I was needed and you were his next call. I told him not to bother, you’d already gotten a call, and we’d be in soon.”
I wasn’t sure why my heart started beating faster. Was it because she’d innocently told Bruce she and I were together this early on a Saturday, and it felt good knowing she had no issue with people knowing we were a thing? Or was it because people would now know we were seeing each other?
“What’s wrong?”
Damn, she had an uncanny ability to read my every thought and emotion.
“If Bruce knows, you know the entire department will know by the end of the day.”
“Is that a problem for you? I didn’t know we were hiding.”
Were we hiding? Was I? Was it too soon for everyone to know? Did I want them to know?
With a sigh Mercy yanked back the shower curtain, but before she could step out, I pulled her back in and cradled her to my chest.
“I’m not hiding. And this has nothing to do with me not wanting people to know how much I love you. This is about me and my shit.” Her body had turned to stone, and I wondered what I’d said to make her so upset. “What’s wrong?”
“You love me?”
Her pretty eyes looked up at me, and even with wet hair plastered to her head she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I loved seeing her with no makeup, not that she wore a lot, but with her face wiped clean she looked softer, more vulnerable. Something she didn’t show, not to anyone but me. I was the only person who got to know this side of Mercy. And it was only fitting since she got all of me.
“Mercy, baby, I told you I was falling for you.”
“Falling is different than fallen.”
I didn’t mean to chuckle but she was so damn cute I couldn’t help it. My laughter died when she balled up her fist and socked my chest. For a little thing she could hit.
“Sorry.” With one last chuckle I lowered my mouth to hers and paused. “Yes, I’ve fallen, so I guess the question is, have you caught me?”
“Yes.”
Our lips were still a hairsbreadth apart. “Say it, Mercy. I want the words.”
“I love you.”
With a primal growl that started in the pit of my stomach and bubbled its way out of my throat, I closed the distance. Her kiss tasted sweeter—present and future fused, mixed together, and calmness settled over me. A deep-seated love I hadn’t known was real filled my soul. I felt every swipe of her tongue, every mew, and the brush of her bare tits in a new and profound way. She’d entrenched herself into my heart.
“If we had more time—” I broke the kiss.
“But we don’t. Duty calls.”
“Tonight?”
“Mmm . . . tonight we’ll—”
“God, please don’t say it or we won’t be leaving the shower.”
“Come on, hot stuff, let’s get ready for work.”
* * *
We drove to work in one car, walked in together, put our stuff in her office, walked into a room full of our colleagues, and the world didn’t catch on fire. No one said anything, no one batted an eye. My earlier worry seemed ridiculous at best. We were both single, we weren’t breaking any rules, and my hang ups, were just that—mine. Kayla had been gone for over two years, and it was no one’s business but Mercy’s and mine anyway. I was slowly coming back to the land of the living, and it felt good. No, it was great.
“Keith will be here in a few minutes,” Scott said. “We have fourteen dead teens, and the media is all over this. Our window is closing.”
“The ME’s office is putting a rush on the tox screens,” Bruce started. “Three juniors, five seniors from Polytech. Three freshmen, a sophomore, and two juniors from Parkside.”
“All of the deceased attend the same party? Anything to tie them together?” Ellen, one of the SA’s on the case, asked.
“No. Three different parties from what we can tell. We also have three in ICU. Parkside freshmen. Those three were not at a party, but they were all at a park. There was a fourth.” Bruce stopped and looked at his notes. “Male, sophomore. He’s the one that called it in.”
“Who’s the ME?” I asked.
“Simon Hines. He was the lead on the Kular case.”
“Does he have an opinion, one way or another, whether the fourteen are connected?”
“He believes so, but needs the toxicology reports back before he’s willing to swear by it.”
“Dammit!” Scott shoved back from the table. “These damn kids don’t understand the danger they’re putting themselves in. They take whatever shit someone hands them and think they’re invincible. And we’re always two goddamn steps behind. We shut one person down, and ten more pop up.”
Keith and Emma entered the conference room, cutting Scott off from saying anything else.
“I don’t have to be here,” the girl argued. She looked like hell. Mascara smudged around her eyes, her clothes way too skimpy for a teenager, even one who was now a legal adult. “I told you I want to go home.”
“Sit down, Emma,” Mercy snapped.
The girl’s racoon eyes swung to Mercy, and she narrowed them. Wrong thing to do. “I don’t have to be here. He kidnapped me. I said I wanted to go home. I’m gonna call my parents.”
“There’s not a damn thing your parents can do for you. Now sit down and start talking.” Mercy was pissed. “Will someone please get Emma a windbreaker to put on?”
So, I wasn’t the only one that noticed her top looked two sizes too small. Keith stood off to the side with his jaw clenched. He looked like he’d had enough of Emma’s whining.
“Why don’t you start, Keith.” Bruce motioned for the undercover narc to start.
Keith walked to the whiteboard and started jotting down names and locations. “So last night started at a girl named Jessica Landon’s house.” Keith pointed to her name and address. “We showed up at ten p.m. Emma, here, ditched me fifteen minutes later. While I was wandering around the house wondering where the parents thought their kids were, I heard about a group going to meet with the professor to score. Thirty minutes later, I still couldn’t find Emma, I passed a group of kids coming in the door as I left to go search for Emma at one of the other parties.” He pointed to the other two addresses he written. “I called in the location of the parties and went to the old abandoned drive-in. I find this one here.” He stopped again and leveled Emma with a cold hard look. “Around four a.m., hooking up with Pete Sampson, who graduated from Polytech three years ago. Puts him at twenty-one.”
“What? Why do you care? I don’t see what the big deal is. I broke up with you. You wouldn’t even kiss me, you p
rude. I want to call my parents.”
“Yeah, sweetheart, because he’s a cop,” Mercy informed her.
“You’re a cop? How are you a cop, you go to my school?” Emma seemed to be more concerned that Keith was a cop than some of her friends were dead.
“Yeah, she’s not the brightest. She’ll be lucky to graduate with a D average.” Keith shook his head.
“Who’s the professor?” Mercy asked Emma.
“How should I know.”
Mercy’s gaze swung to Keith, he nodded his encouragement and sat down. The poor kid looked exhausted and I guess he was, he’d been driving around half the night chasing after some high school girl. I remembered Mercy’s earlier comment about duct tape and choked back a laugh. I don’t know how Keith had kept his cool for as long as he had. Better him than me.
16
Ellen finally came back into the room with a blue, extra-large DEA windbreaker and handed it to Emma.
“What’s this for?”
Maybe I was fast losing patience because I’d been pulled out of bed bright and early on a Saturday morning. Or because I’d planned on staying in bed all day with Jason. Or maybe because I really didn’t want to be at work after our shower where we’d exchanged I love yous. All of those, plus the fact I’d only had one cup of coffee were all very valid points. However, my tolerance for bullshit was at an all time low because fourteen more kids were dead, and three more might die before the day was done, and this little twit was clueless.
“It’s for you to wear. You’re in a room full of grown men and your state of undress is making them uncomfortable, and, frankly, it’s appalling you’d degrade yourself by wearing so little. So, cover up.”
“It’s not my fault—”
“Put the damn jacket on. Now!”
I wanted to get her some baby wipes to clean all the makeup off her face, but that would have to wait.
“Am I under arrest?” she asked, pushing her wrist through the arm hole of the overly large jacket.
“Should you be?”
“No. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Start by telling us about the party at Jessica’s house.”
“What about it? It was boring. She’s only a sophomore and she’s super uptight.” Emma shrugged her shoulders then nodded toward Keith. “He was being an ass, telling me he didn’t like how I was dressed. So, when we got to Jess’s and Pete texted me he wanted to hook up, I left.”
“And what, Pete picked you up and you went straight to the drive-in?”
“No. We drove around.”
Christ. Trying to get this girl to talk was like drawing blood from a turnip.
“You do know that some of your friends are dead, right? This is serious. We need to know where you went and what you saw.”
Emma’s head fell forward, and I thought we were possibly getting somewhere. “I told them after that girl from Parkside got a bad batch it was time to stop. But no one could score anymore benzos or Vicodin so they kept going back.”
“Who was dealing the benzos and Vicodin at Polytech?”
“No one really deals it. If someone can get their hands on a script, they sell it. You know someone is always having dental work done, or they pull a muscle at practice. It’s not hard. Hell, most of the soccer team fakes hurt knees or ankles and they go to the doctor. Next weekend there’s a party.” Emma shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal.
Unbelievable. Complete and total lack of concern. She didn’t even bat an eye that her classmates were dead or that what she’d told me was a felony, to her it was nothing. Another day, another party, another night getting high.
“You know how dangerous that is, right?”
“No, it’s not. It’s not like the other stuff. You get the pills from a real doctor.”
I didn’t have time to explain to this girl all the reasons why it was, indeed, dangerous.
“You mean the stuff you get from the professor. The GHL.”
“The what?”
“The stuff you put in my drink?” Keith told her.
Surprisingly, the stupid girl didn’t flinch. “You mean the Gina? I didn’t put a lot in there. It’s supposed to make you want to have sex—and you wouldn’t touch me.”
“So, you were going to—” I put my hand up, stopping Keith from finishing.
“Where do we find the professor?” I continued.
“I don’t know.”
“Who did you get the Gina from?”
Either Emma was dumber than a sack of rocks or she was playing the part. I wasn’t sure which.
“A girl from Parkside.” I motioned for more information. Emma huffed and continued, “Lizzie. You text her, and she meets you.”
“Text her and tell her you want to meet.”
“She’s only open on Fridays.”
Open on Fridays? What the hell, was she a fucking convenience store?
“How you wanna play this, Bruce?” I asked. Still not sure if the girl was telling the truth.
“You don’t happen to know Lizzie’s last name, do you?” he asked.
“What do I look like, a phone book?” Emma smart assed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to go home.”
Keith was eying her like he was ready to strangle her, Jason excused himself from the room, Bruce, Ellen, and Scott ignored her and started talking strategy. I wasn’t paying much attention to the plan they were coming up with. I was too busy studying Emma. She would’ve been a pretty girl if she didn’t try so hard. As pissed as I was at her attitude, I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. Why did she feel the need to use sex to get attention? What had happened to this teen’s self-esteem that she thought sex and drugs were her best options?
She hadn’t asked about the kids who’d died, and she didn’t ask about the kids in the hospital. Her lack of empathy and compassion annoyed the shit out of me. Was she so self-absorbed she didn’t care, or was it all a front? Was she trying to act tough because that was part of her game? Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to figure her out, there were kids dying, and if we didn’t want more kids to die, we needed to find this professor.
Jason walked back into the room, completely ignoring the pouting teenager, and went straight to Bruce. “I talked to Delaney, she doesn’t know anyone named Lizzie, but she still had the after-school science club roster and there is a Lizbeth Cole in the club. They meet every other week after school on a Friday.”
“Can you buy GHL every Friday from Lizzie or just twice a month?” Bruce asked.
“Every Friday.”
“Still worth looking into,” Scott announced.
“This is what’s going to happen,” Bruce started, pinning Emma in place. “You’re gonna go home and keep your mouth shut about everything that went on here today. Monday morning you’re going to school and you’ll continue to keep your mouth shut. You’re also going to stick close to Keith, your wonderful, non-sexual boyfriend. You’re going to text this Lizzie girl and tell her you want to make a buy. Tell her you need a lot because a few of your friends want some, too, but you’re gonna pick it for them. Then, Friday, you and Keith are going to meet with Lizzie and pick it up.”
“I’m not a rat. I’m not doing it.”
“Then you’ll be arrested and booked.”
“For what? I haven’t done anything,” she argued.
“Possession of an illicit substance, assault and battery on a police officer, attempted sexual assault, attempted murder—”
“I didn’t try to kill anyone!”
“What the hell do you think you were doing when you put GHL in Officer Michaels’s drink?” I asked. “You also mixed Viagra with it. You could’ve killed him. You have no idea what medication he’s taking, what his health history is. Wake the fuck up, little girl. You and your friends are playing a dangerous game. And, so we’re clear, you will be charged as an adult. You’re looking at jail time and lots of it.” I’d tried my best to keep my cool, but Emma wasn’t getting it. “People a
re dying. Your friends. And you’re sitting here acting like we’re inconveniencing you this morning.”
“Fine,” she huffed. Un-fucking-believable. “But no one is going to believe he’s my boyfriend.” She pointed to Keith.
“Well, it’s your job to convince them.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just take me home. I’m tired.”
“I bet you are,” Keith mumbled under his breath.
“Hang in there, this is almost over,” Bruce told him.
“I deserve a goddamn medal for this. You have no idea how . . . challenging this has been.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. I turned to Jason and lifted a brow. “Think he wishes he had duct tape?”
With a shake of his head and a chuckle he agreed.
Keith waited for Emma to stand, and when she tried to take off the windbreaker to give it back, he told her to keep it on and mumbled something about being uncomfortable being around her when she was dressed the way she was. I didn’t blame him, the girl had on less clothes than I wear to the beach. Her boobs nearly popped out of her top and her skirt was extremely short. As they left the room, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was one of those kids that took a change of clothes when they left the house. I’d bet she left in an outfit her parents deemed appropriate and changed later. Her clothes were that bad.
After another hour talking about the case and planning for next week, the tox report came in, just as we were leaving. Bruce scanned the reports and confirmed the recipe used to make the GHL was the same that killed Nessa and the fourteen new victims. The local PD was going to have their work cut out for them contending with the media coverage. I just hoped to God whoever this Professor was didn’t get scared and close up shop before Friday. We needed the buy to go down. One more week and this would be over.
“You ready?” Jason stopped next to me once the meeting was over.
“Yes. I’m starving.”
“Me, too.” Suddenly, my empty stomach wasn’t a priority. Not when Jason was looking at me with his panty-melting, blue eyes. I hated to cook, but if he’d take me home now, I’d make him the biggest damn breakfast he’d ever seen, after we were done giving each other screaming orgasms. “Come on, pretty girl, I know a great little mom and pop place that makes the best pancakes. But if you tell my mom I said that, I’ll deny it.”
Finding Mercy: The Next Generation Page 8