Desolate Mantle

by L. K. Hill

  Gabe sat back, thinking. “Sounds like maybe he’d been initiated into the gang already. If you’ve studied the Sons of Ares, I don’t have to tell you that once you’re a member, there’s no getting out.”

  Kyra nodded.

  “Did this Ted know if Manny was already a full-fledged member?”

  She shook her head. “He couldn’t tell for sure. I tend to think not. Ted didn’t see any obvious signs or tattoos. Besides, Manny’s a really decent guy. He has the biggest heart you can imagine. He’s here for the drugs. Because he’s not strong enough to escape their influence. He wouldn’t do rape or murder or anything else required by the gang for full membership.”

  Gabe studied her warily. “Um…Kyra?” The name still felt strange on his lips. “I’m not sure you can count on that being the case. Drugs do strange things to people. Make them behave in ways they never would otherwise. I’ve seen really decent people ruined by hard drugs. Turned into monsters—”

  “Manny wouldn’t,” she snapped, the fierceness returning to her eyes. “You don’t know him.”

  Gabe sighed. This wasn’t an argument he would win with her, so he nodded. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I don’t. So,” he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re here, in Abstreuse, looking for your brother. To bring him out of the gang?”

  She met his eyes then and nodded, her face unreadable.

  “Wow,” he murmured. “That’s…just…”

  “Dangerous? Stupid? Insane?” Her eyes flashed in rebellion, but a moment later her face fell. A note of quiet resignation entered her voice. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I was actually going to say…lonesome. You’re doing this by yourself? Just left your entire life behind?”

  She glanced up self-consciously and shrugged. “Being a writer, I’m independently employed. I’m not married. No kids. I’m the only one in the world who could and would be able to do this. As for being alone,” she shrugged off-handedly. “That’s my penance, Detective.”

  “For what?”

  “For not being a better human being.”

  Gabe frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I single-handedly turned my brother into an addict.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, this isn’t the kind of thing that lends itself to company. Anyone else would only be at risk, and put me in danger as well.”

  “Kyra,” Gabe waited until she looked at him. “You aren’t responsible for your brother’s decisions—”

  “But I am.” She threw up her hands and then rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why doesn’t anyone understand that?”

  She whispered the last question so softly, he barely caught it. “Understand what, Kyra? Explain it to me.”

  “I got him into the drugs, Detective. If not for me, he’d probably be a Harvard graduate by now. I ruined his life, took away his future, for my own selfish purposes.”

  “You were a teenager, Kyra. You’re his sister, not his parent. You don’t have to—”

  “Look!” she sliced the air with her hands and stood, turning her back to him. He waited until she turned to face him again. “I’m telling you this so you’ll understand why I’m here. So you’ll believe what else I have to tell you. What made me come here tonight. But nothing you say will talk me out of finding my brother. I’ve been at this for months. I’m too invested to turn back now. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but unless you know what it’s like to lose a sibling and feel responsible for it, I don’t think you could possibly understand.”

  Thoughts of Dillon floated across Gabe’s mind. The smell of the grass in his nose. Staring at his pudgy, six-year-old hands, covered in his own tears. “But what will I tell my mom?”

  He pushed the memory away. “You might be surprised,” he murmured. When he looked up, Kyra’s eyes had widened.

  “What does that mean?” she asked warily.

  He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to tell his own sob story. “Nothing. I’m a cop. I have siblings. Don’t underestimate a person’s ability to sympathize.”

  She considered for a moment. “Fair enough. You still won’t talk me out of looking for Manny. This is why I keep running from you. It’s better for me to do this on my own. That, and I don’t want to blow my cover.”

  “All that tells me is that some logical part of you knows this is insane,” he said wryly.

  She looked away from him, her jaw set stubbornly.

  He shook his head. There was something impressive about it, too. “It’s just so…desolate,” he said softly. “Have you made any progress?”

  She shook her head and came back to her seat on the couch. “Not really. Not until recently, and even that remains to be seen. Norse would have been my way in.”

  Gabe arched an eyebrow. “Why Norse?”

  She shrugged, and red spots of color appeared in her cheeks, though she met his eye with as much confidence as ever. “As you so tactfully pointed out in your captain’s office before, often sex is part of the requirement to enter the gang. I didn’t want that. I knew Norse was a pedophile. He wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. Obviously it didn’t go over as well as I’d hoped.”

  “I see,” Gabe said quietly. “But you’ve found another way, now?”

  “Possibly. I’m not sure it will pan out, yet.” When she met his gaze, her face was tranquil but her eyes had an edge of defiance, as if determined not to reveal more.

  Gabe merely looked at her, and when half a minute had ticked by, she wilted.

  “If I can get this guy to hire me, I’ll be a glorified errand-runner for the gang. Not enough for any important information, but I’m hoping it will be enough to figure out where Manny is.” She ran a hand through her hair again. “It’s the finding that’s difficult. Once I know where he is, I just have to get there and smuggle him out of the city. Once I have his location, we’ll probably be gone in twelve hours.”

  “You really think it’ll be that easy?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Probably not, but it’ll take a lot less time than this search has. I’ve been at this for so long. It’s like this city swallowed my brother whole. No one seems to have heard of him.”

  “Maybe he’s not here anymore,” Gabe suggested. “He could have left after talking to your friend Ted.”

  She nodded. “That’s occurred to me, but he definitely worked for the gang when Ted saw him. If he went anywhere, it would be on their orders, so they’re still my key to finding him.”

  Another possibility loomed. Gabe didn’t voice it. Shrewd as Kyra was, it must have occurred to her that, even after so short a time since speaking with Ted, Manny might be dead. He was a junkie, and Abstreuse, utterly unforgiving. Bringing it up would only cause her pain, though. The bleakness in her eyes said she’d considered the possibility, but wasn’t dealing with it.

  “Besides,” she said. “I think I heard someone talking about him a week ago. He’s here somewhere, Detective. I can feel it. I’ve just got to find him.”

  He gazed at her for a moment, a vague admiration for her determination flitting through his mind, though the rest of him wanted to lecture her on how crazy-dangerous this was.

  “You know this is going to catch up to you eventually, right? You can’t live out there and think you won’t have to pay the price someday.” He was careful to keep all judgment out of his voice, but a tightness around her eyes said he’d pissed her off.

  “No need to be condescending, Detective,” her voice was deceptively mild. “I can take care of myself, and deal with the consequences of my own actions.”

  He sighed. So it was going to be like that, was it? “Fine,” he said. “What’s the other thing you have to tell me? The reason that brought you here?”

  Her wary gaze shifted to him, studying his face. “Do you believe me? All I’ve said?”

  Odd, to be asked the question so directly. He wasn’t immediately sure how to answer. She’d given him no particular reason to believe her. Meanwhile, she’d broken into his h
ome and hacked into the county website.

  Yet, something about her was compelling. He’d certainly never had a shifty-eyed Mireling gaze so directly at him, with such presence and tranquility. Of course he’d do as much verification of her story as he could, but sitting here now, with those pale blue eyes gazing at him….

  “Yes. I believe you.”

  She let out a deep breath, and he was surprised she put such store in his opinion. She seemed to gain confidence from it though, and turned to face him fully.

  “Being out on the street, talking to people, I see things others wouldn’t. Even the cops.”

  He nodded. He’d already experienced the truth of that. She’d saved most of the department from certain death by warning them of an ambush being planned. Even her help on the Carlotta case came from her street knowledge.

  Now she looked him dead in the eye. “Do you know, Detective, that a serial killer is stalking the Slip Mire?”

  Chapter 9

  Kyra watched Gabe’s reaction carefully. He sat back in the love seat, his face going still.

  “A serial killer?” he asked, his tone guarded. “What makes you say that?”

  Kyra steeled herself. “I’ve seen him.”

  Sure enough, Gabe’s eyes widened, and it took him a moment to remember how to talk. “You’ve…seen him? As in…committing murders?”

  She shook her head quickly. “No. Not that. At least, not exactly.”

  If possible, his eyes widened farther. “Explain.” It wasn’t a request.

  Kyra nodded. “It started a few nights ago. I glanced down an alley and saw a hooker I recognized. Her name is Marna. She was with a john. She wore a sequined top. Hours later, I ran through your crime scene. I don’t know if that john is the one who killed her, but she couldn’t have been alive for much longer after I saw her.” She took a deep breath, already feeling lighter. Now that she’d begun, the words flowed out easily, and relief filled the space they left behind. “Mostly it was disconcerting. I knew her, I’d seen her, and then she was dead.”

  “Did you know her well?” Gabe asked.

  “No. She was a heroin addict. Not the sort of person I’d go to for reliable information. A few days after that, I was out later than usual. Probably around three a.m. Out in front of me two hookers were taking a stroll. One was abnormally tall. I didn’t want to be seen, so I stayed in the shadows behind them. Then I heard a deep voice. A man’s voice.” Her face warmed. She was confident about what she experienced, but saying it out loud sounded somewhat ridiculous. “It was deep, close by. Really creepy. It spooked me. I’m not sure why. I felt…vulnerable.” She could feel Gabe’s eyes on her, but couldn’t meet them. “When I couldn’t figure out where the masculine voice came from, I ducked into a different alley and high-tailed it back to my hotel.”

  “You keep a hotel room?”

  She nodded. “A relatively nice one, actually. I’m not always in the Mire. Every few days I head back to shower, sleep, recharge my batteries.”

  His eyebrows jumped briefly. “I’m…glad to hear that. Uh, that you take care of yourself, I mean. So,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, did you ever figure it out? What spooked you about the voice?” As she’d talked, his expression had gone from surprise to genuine curiosity.

  She shrugged. “I live my life by my instincts, Detective. I think something evil lurked nearby, and I picked up on it. At the time, I was alone, it was three a.m. I got the hell out of there.”

  He smiled for the first time since discovering her in his laundry room. “Smart girl.”

  “They found her body the next day. I talked with another prostitute I’ve befriended. Her name is Sadie.” Kyra took a deep breath. “Sadie thinks the man I saw with Marna just before she died and the taller of the two hookers I saw are the same person. A man dressed as a woman. The long, fluffy hair was exactly what she noticed on the john that killed Mallory.”

  Gabe frowned. “Mallory?”

  “Mallory Butler. You’d have worked her case a few weeks ago—” She cut off as understanding dawned in Gabe’s eyes and he jumped to his feet.

  “Whoa, whoa,” he waved his hand through the air. “You’re saying you think the same person who killed Marna and this second hooker—”

  “Janny,” Kyra supplied.

  “Yeah, I know her name,” Gabe snapped, then ran a hand through his hair, moderating his voice. “This man you keep seeing, you think he also killed Mallory Butler?”

  “Based on what Sadie saw, yes.”

  Gabe’s brows drew down in distress, and he rubbed his forehead.

  “Is…that a problem?” Kyra asked. She’d expected more anger than he’d shown thus far. She’d told herself she’d just have to remain aloof. Not react to his reactions. He seemed more upset about this than anything else she’d said or done in the past hour.

  He studied her, then slowly lowered himself back onto the love seat. “We’re getting ready to charge someone in Mallory Butler’s murder.”

  A stab of surprise lanced through Kyra’s chest. “Really? Who?”

  Gabe got his feet and paced a few times before turning to her. “He hasn’t been charged, yet, so this can’t leave this room.”

  Kyra barked a laugh. “Who am I gonna tell?”

  “His name is Jace Anderson. He was a regular of hers. We found his fingerprints and semen all over her, and he has a history of abusing her during their encounters.”

  Something else Sadie said about the night Mallory died flashed in Kyra’s mind. “Chase or Jace or something.” “He was the first guy,” Kyra said softly, mostly to herself.

  “First guy,” Gabe asked. “As opposed to…”

  Kyra sighed, realizing she’d have to tell him everything Sadie saw. “Sadie said that, at first, Mallory got a regular. His name sounded like Chase, but Sadie didn’t know him. After a time, he stumbled out of the alley they’d gone into, all beat up. Sadie went to check on Mallory. At that point, Mallory was still alive. She was with a second john in the alley who’d beat up the first. She waved to let Sadie know she was okay. Sadie didn’t see her again until the cops showed up to work the crime scene. This second john had bushy, waist-length hair. Sadie thought it might be a wig. I didn’t notice much about the guy down the alley with Marna. It happened too fast. But when I saw those two prostitutes the other night, the taller one had the same thing—thick, bushy, waist-length hair. And then there was the deep voice.”

  Gabe sighed and ran his hands through his hair, pacing again. Kyra leaned into the couch, giving him some time to think. It must’ve been disheartening, realizing you’d arrested the wrong guy when you thought your case was solved. DNA evidence was almost always damning, but if this Mallory and Jace were interrupted mid-encounter, his fingerprints and semen would definitely be all over Mallory.

  After one more circuit Gabe perched on the arm of the couch and met her gaze again, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Is there more? You were at my crime scene yesterday, hiding under a box. Why?”

  “Because I saw the killer with that woman, too. I haven’t been able to find out her name. Have you?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Tell me what you saw.”

  Kyra opened her mouth, and the lump she’d been fighting for twenty-four hours rose in her throat. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes, and she fought to keep her chin from trembling. So far, she’d pushed away the guilt of not rushing to the woman’s side immediately. Now, telling it to Gabe, there was no way not feel it.

  Gabe glanced at her when she paused, then did a double-take, his eyes widening. He leaned forward, as if to rise, but seemed to think better of it, staying in his seat. His face remained grim, though she detected sympathy in his eyes. That only made it worse.

  “Did you…know her?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head and scrubbed angrily at her face. She wasn’t accustomed to crying in front of people. To crying at all, really, and especially not in front of good-looking, sympathetic de
tectives. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I just…I could have saved her.”

  “How so?”

  She told him about having a meeting with Josie, though she didn’t name him, referring to him simply as the man she hoped to work for. She explained how she’d seen the prostitute with a shirtless, bushy-haired man, but was too afraid she’d lose her chance to get in with the gang, and so hadn’t followed her instincts.

  “When the meeting ended, I ran from one side of the Slip Mire to another for three hours, looking for them. I didn’t find anything. Except an alley full of hissing Prowlers.” His eyebrows narrowed, but she hurried on. “When I came back around near where I’d first seen them, the squad cars were already there.”

  Gabe nodded. “Her body was found quickly. Pure chance—a passing transient. She’d only been dead two hours by the time I arrived. But Kyra, none of that’s your fault.”

  “I could have saved her, Detective. In the moment I saw them, I actually, consciously knew the man with her was the killer, and I didn’t do anything about it.”

  Annoyance flitted across his features. “Would you do it any differently if you could do it again?”

  She threw her hands up. “I don’t know.” That was the worst part. She wished she could claim that if she’d only known, she would change her actions, but Kyra had never been one to lie to herself. She had known. Not in any provable, scientific way, of course. But somewhere, deep in her chest, she’d known, and done nothing. Finding Manny was her priority. That wouldn’t change.

  “Then what difference does it make?” Gabe asked quietly.

  “What do you mean, ‘what difference does it make?’ This woman is dead, Detective.” Unable to deal with his direct gaze anymore, Kyra got up and walked around behind his couch, to put some space between them.

  “Yes.” He got to his feet as well. “And she chose to take part in a high risk profession. Her choices are her own, not yours.”

  Kyra gripped the back of the couch, letting her head drop forward. Telling him everything had brought relief, but also exhaustion. He was right, but that didn’t take her guilt away. “It’s not a fair choice,” she said softly. “If I’d gone to help her, and lost my in with the gang, and Manny…died because I didn’t get to him in time…” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She wished she could take them back when he frowned.