by Dan Padavona
“What time are you picking me up, Romeo?”
“I arrive home fifteen minutes after four. I’ll need time to cook and shower. How about seven o’clock?”
“That works. You renting a limo, or making me ride to the most romantic event of the year in a freaking pickup truck?”
He stammered. Should he call a limo? Could he even rent one on short notice?
“I’m kidding, Shepherd,” she said, grinning.
“No obligations.”
“Of course, not. We’ll laugh at the locals and slam a drink or two. I went stag last year and had a great time. This will be twice as fun.”
“Great. Seven o’clock, it is.”
“And Thomas?”
“Yeah?”
“If you try to hold my hand, I’ll bloody your lip.”
Aguilar pulled the cruiser into a municipal lot across the street from a newsstand. City traffic buzzed past. A ten-story brownstone apartment building loomed across the street. According to county records, Anthony Fisher lived with his aunt on the fourth floor. They climbed the stairs. Televisions blared behind closed doors. When they reached the fourth floor, Aguilar rapped on the first door. Quiet emanated from the apartment. After ten seconds, she knocked again. Thomas peered down the empty hallway.
“You said Fisher lives with his aunt?”
“Perhaps she’s at work.”
“Nothing about this feels right.”
“You don’t believe the kid did it?”
Thomas leaned against the jamb.
“I don’t. I observed Anthony Fisher’s body language in the video footage. No anxiousness, no paranoia. I doubt he knew what was in the box. The boy isn’t a serial killer.”
“That won’t convince Gray.”
“You asked for my opinion.”
She gave him a curious look.
“Tell you what. Let’s grab coffee across the street and check back in half an hour.”
They emerged into the harsh daylight. On the sidewalk, Thomas shielded his eyes and searched for Aguilar’s coffee shop. His eyes stopped on a black Chrysler Limited parked at the end of the block. Aguilar nudged his arm.
“Isn’t that LeVar Hopkins’s car?” Aguilar set her hands on her hips. “I’ll be damned. Should I call it in?”
Thomas chewed his lip.
“We have nothing on Hopkins.”
“Except he ran from you.”
“Running isn’t proof of guilt.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Talk.”
Thomas started down the sidewalk.
“Talk?” Aguilar said, rushing to catch up. “You don’t just talk to LeVar Hopkins.”
“Everyone talks. The human species would cease to exist without communication.”
The Chrysler Limited sat vacant at the curb. A cross hung from a chain strewn over the rear-view mirror. He shot his eyes to the passenger seat. It wasn’t soaked with blood. But LeVar might have reupholstered the seat, or murdered Erika Windrow in another vehicle. Thomas searched the street for LeVar.
“Now what?”
“We’ll wait until he returns,” Thomas said, leaning against the hood.
Aguilar cocked an eyebrow.
“You’ll get your ass shot, cowboy.”
“He’ll come for his car. The police will ticket him if he parks for two hours.”
They didn’t wait long. The door opened on a twenty-four-hour diner with a bright blue awning. Two black males pushed through the exit and squinted into the sun. Thomas recognized LeVar. The other man stood two inches shorter than LeVar. But the bald male carried himself a foot larger. Prison tattoos marked his arms. He pulled up and swatted LeVar, then cocked his chin toward Thomas and Aguilar.
“See the scumbag?” Aguilar asked. “That’s Rev.”
“Rev?”
“Yeah, Shepherd. He runs the Kings.”
“I thought LeVar ran the gang.”
“LeVar is the muscle. Rev controls this half of Harmon. I should call for backup.”
“We’re just having a conversation.”
Rev and LeVar strode at Thomas. Outwardly, Thomas fixed the two gang members with a stoic glare. Inside, his heart raced. The shooting rushed back to him, and in that moment, he smelled the grass as he lay face down, felt the burning agony in the small of his back. A whiff of sulfur caught his nose. He imagined the gunpowder scent. It seemed real.
“Someone cooking ham?” LeVar asked Rev.
The leader of the Kings didn’t smirk or flinch. His hands twitched at his sides, and Thomas caught the bulge beneath Rev’s sweatshirt. The man packed a gun. This situation could spin out of control at any second. LeVar glanced between Rev and the two deputies. He set a hand on the gang leader’s chest.
“I’ll catch you after. Let me handle the cops.”
Rev shot him a hard look.
“You sure about this?”
“I got you covered. Chill.” LeVar waited for Rev to saunter down the walkway. The leader of the Harmon Kings kept looking back at Thomas and Aguilar with ill intentions. “All right, let’s talk. I got nothing to hide.”
“Why did you run from me Wednesday?” Thomas asked.
“I didn’t know you were a cop. All I saw was a big guy with a gun. That means trouble down this way.”
Aguilar cleared her throat and said, “We’re not after you. Not today.”
“Then why y’all in my neighborhood?”
“We’re searching for Anthony Fisher.” LeVar’s eyes flickered with surprise. “You happen to see him this morning?”
“Not your business if I did. What you want with Anthony?”
“We’re investigating Erika Windrow’s murder.”
“You sayin’ Anthony is a suspect? I ain’t tryin’ to hear that. He’s just a kid.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
“So he’s innocent? Maybe you’ll tell us who we should be after.”
“What you got on Anthony?” LeVar folded his arms as Thomas told him about the security footage from the post office. “So my boy mailed a package. That’s all you got on him.”
“That’s enough, considering what was inside.”
“Okay, so what was in the box?”
“I’m sure Anthony knows. Where is he?”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t seen Anthony in a minute. He’s up north with his Mom’s. Anthony only lives here with his aunt while Mom gets her shit together. Bitch can’t keep a job.”
Thomas handed LeVar his card.
“When you see Anthony, call me. It would be better if we found him first.”
“That a threat?”
“If he’s innocent, I’ll fight on his behalf. But this looks bad for Anthony. He needs to explain why he mailed that box.”
LeVar turned the card over in his hand. His eyes darted between Thomas and Aguilar, as though deciding which threat he wanted to take out first.
“Whatever you think Anthony did, he didn’t do it. But I’ll tell him you want to talk.”
“While we’re at it, where were you Sunday night? I have multiple eyewitnesses who placed you at Wolf Lake last week.”
“You can stop right there, Deputy Dog. I didn’t drop no bodies in the lake. And my business in the village ain’t your concern.”
Thomas questioned LeVar about Raven. But the teen threw his hands up and walked away,
“Come back when you got a warrant,” he said, grinning pearly whites back at them.
“You’re letting him go?” Aguilar asked, grabbing Thomas by the arm.
“I can’t bring him in without evidence. But that story he told about Anthony moving north was a lie. He’s around. Keep your eyes peeled.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
LeVar rounded the corner. When he was certain the two deputies weren’t following and Rev wasn’t around, he sprinted past a row of apartments and cut through the alleyway. He needed to beat Rev to the red-light district and find Anthony before Rev did. This was Royals territory. He riske
d his life going after the kid. The youngster couldn’t get enough of the girls. Troy Dean let Anthony hang around because he didn’t consider the kid a threat. Were the shoe on the other foot, Rev would have gutted a Royals youngster for walking through Kings territory.
He pulled up out of breath after sprinting four blocks. The girls milled in front of the adult video store. They wore high heels, crotch-high miniskirts, and lots of leather. And they all smoked or chomped on fruity bubble gum. Just getting near the women turned LeVar’s stomach. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would pay for an hour alone with them.
The cold thought rolled around inside his head. His mother hooked when LeVar and Raven were children. She put money on the table, though she injected half the earnings into her arm. Now LeVar hadn’t been home in three nights. When he was away for multiple days, he feared he’d come home and find his mother dead on the couch, the needle hanging out of her arm like a broken diving board, eyes vacant, spittle dried upon crusted lips. She refused to get help, though LeVar promised he’d pay for rehab, therapy, whatever she needed. Without Raven to help, their mother was his responsibility.
Traffic buzzed through the intersection. He waited for an opening, threw his hood over his head, and strolled across the road with his hands buried inside his pockets. He kept his head down, expecting a bullet when someone recognized him. As he hopped the curb, he caught sight of a black teenager strolling out of the video store with a brown paper bag tucked beneath his arm. The kid was a little pervert, but LeVar didn’t care. He preferred Anthony watched movies and fantasized. At least the kid was smart enough not to proposition the older girls. For a second, a thought played around in LeVar’s mind. Someone offed Erika. Anthony? No, he refused to accept the kid was a murderer. Damn kid was too chicken to fire a gun. Why the hell did Rev recruit Anthony into the Kings?
“Anthony,” LeVar said, keeping his voice low. The kid bounced on the balls of his feet, nervous. “Hey, Anthony.”
Two street walkers glanced his way, and a Puerto Rican woman in a leopard-skin skirt whirled and ran inside the shop. Shit. If Troy Dean was inside with half the Royals, LeVar had a minute to live. He snatched Anthony by the elbow and dragged him away from the storefront. The young teenager whirled his head around in surprise.
“What the hell, LeVar?” Then his head swiveled toward the video store. “You shouldn’t be down here.”
“No shit. Follow me.”
LeVar walked with purpose, his elbow hooked to Anthony’s until they reached the alleyway. Pulling the kid behind him, LeVar ran without stopping. When he stepped off enemy terrain, a weight fell off his shoulders. Still, he scanned behind him for pursuit before he let his guard down.
“From now on, stay on this side of Harmon.”
Anthony shuffled his feet.
“Nobody bothers me or cares I’m there.”
“Troy cares, believe me. He lets you slide ‘cause you ain’t worth dealing with.” Hurt bled into Anthony’s eyes. LeVar raised his chin. “You think it ain’t true? Why the Royals gonna start a war over your sorry ass? You want your damn girly videos, I’ll get them for you. No reason for you to risk your head.”
“Sorry.”
LeVar lowered his voice when a Harmon PD patrolman passed them on the sidewalk. The heavyset officer glared their way with his hand an inch from his weapon. He spoke into a radio on his shoulder and crossed the street.
“You fucked up, Anthony.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Two county cops came looking for you an hour ago.”
“What the hell for?”
LeVar grabbed the kid by the shoulders and shoved him against a brick building. Anthony’s eyes widened.
“They got you on video at the post office.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So? You stupid shit. Don’t you watch the news? That girl you had your eyes on…Erika. Someone sliced her up like a slab of meat and mailed body parts to the press. You wanna tell me something, Anthony?”
Fear and revulsion worked through the kid. Whatever concern LeVar had about Anthony butchering Erika Windrow vanished. This kid wouldn’t swat a fly without crying.
“I don’t know nothing about that.”
“You mailed the box, you dumb shit. And now half the county is hunting you. Tell me what happened. And if you lie, I swear I’ll bleed you here and let the vultures take the rest.”
Anthony swallowed and stared at his shoelaces.
“This guy. He handed me the box and a hundred-dollar bill. Told me the money was mine. All I had to do was mail it.”
Fury tightened LeVar’s muscles. He composed himself before he knocked the kid’s lights out.
“Some random guy approached you on the street and paid you a hundred dollars to mail a package. And you don’t find it suspicious?”
“It was a hundred dollars. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“The fuck you talking about? No, I wouldn’t risk my ass for a hundred bucks. Dammit, Anthony. I bail you out, and you wade back in. Rev was there when the cops showed up, asking questions about you.”
“Rev was there? Oh, man. What should I do?”
“Don’t do nothing. Lie low until this blows over. I’ll handle the cops when they come back.”
“I screwed up this time, didn’t I?”
LeVar blew out a frustrated breath and paced in a circle. This was bad business. He couldn’t guarantee Rev wouldn’t put the kid down for bringing unneeded heat on the Kings. The line he gave the county cops about Anthony having a mother upstate wasn’t a lie. Should he put the kid on a bus and get him out of Harmon? Hell, he wanted to buy a ticket and ride with the kid. Disappear to someplace where no one knew him. When he joined the Kings, the gang was a brotherhood. Then Rev rose to power, and the psycho turned his brothers into killers. He couldn’t abandon his mother or escape gang life. Nobody in the Kings left Harmon without Rev finding out.
“You’re staying at our apartment for a few nights.” When Anthony opened his mouth to protest, LeVar dropped a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I need someone to watch over my mother. Consider it payback. If Rev asks where you’re at, I’ll cover for you.”
“Okay, I’ll do it. How do I get out of this mess?”
“Tell me everything about the guy. Who is he, and what does he look like?”
Anthony described the stranger. The guy seemed vaguely familiar. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen him before.
“You ever notice him hanging around Harmon?”
“Never.”
“Dammit, Anthony. You’ll get both of us killed someday. All right. I’ll put the word out. Shouldn’t take too long to shake him out of hiding. Until then, keep your head low. Understand?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Conversation whirred inside the bus as everyone looked forward to the spring gala. Scout sat away from the other students, the wheelchair strapped to the wall and her knapsack clutched against her lap. She’d almost convinced Mom to take her to the dance. But Mom didn’t know anyone in Wolf Lake, except Deputy Shepherd. And she couldn’t picture the deputy and her mother on a date.
Sunshine spread over the dusty bus windows and raised spirits. Even for the kids not attending the dance, it was Friday. The weekend had arrived, and the weather was beautiful. And what did Scout have planned? Nothing the other kids would find entertaining.
Yet her body thrummed with anticipation. She was close to catching a killer. Nobody on the Virtual Searchers forum connected the animal murders with the woman dropped in the lake. Not that she craved fame and attention. A psychopath hunted Wolf Lake, and it was her duty to keep her classmates safe, even though they didn’t pay her attention.
Twice she’d phoned the sheriff’s department from school and asked for Deputy Shepherd. Both times he was out of the office, and the secretary who recorded Scout’s messages didn’t take the girl seriously. She doubted the deputy received either message.
To make matters worse, she overheard two girls
chatting during gym class. The killer was a black male from Harmon. A leaked rumor purported the sheriff had two suspects—both members of the Harmon Kings. The logic didn’t compute. Why would gang members target teenage prostitutes?
Her pulse raced as the bus turned down the lake road. Now that she had proof the animal killer and murderer footage came from Harmon, the killings separated by only four months, she would tell Deputy Shepherd and turn the evidence over to the sheriff’s department. He’d listen to her. He had to.
The brakes squealed as the bus stopped in front of the house. Her mother waited in her usual spot with a painted-on smile. Scout sensed her mother’s pain and understood she’d become a burden to everybody. That point became obvious when the bus driver took forever to unstrap the wheelchair, and the typical muttering began again. It wasn’t four o’clock yet, and she’d already ruined everyone’s weekend. The metronome-like beeps served as strange background music while the lift lowered. Mom thanked the elderly driver who grumbled and limped up the bus steps.
“How was school?”
“Glad it’s over.”
“Did something happen?”
“No, I just don’t enjoy being there.”
Mom stopped the wheelchair on the sidewalk and knelt before Scout.
“That’s not like you. You’ve always loved school.”
“Mom, what if we tried homeschooling?”
Her mother stood and tugged at her shirt.
“That’s not possible. I work days. Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll speak with the principal.”
Scout shook her head.
“It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“Forget I asked.”
Mom sighed and shoved Scout toward the ramp. Scout glanced over her shoulder. The deputy’s driveway lay vacant. He’d be home from work soon.
“Hey, Mom. Is it okay if I sit in the backyard for a while?”
“Sure, if that will brighten your mood. Want me to bring you a snack?”
“Maybe in a bit. I’m not hungry.”
Mom wheeled Scout to the unfinished path. The deputy hadn’t poured concrete yet. He promised he’d complete the pathway during a warm stretch of weather next week. Guilt gnawed at her. Deputy Shepherd did so much for Scout and her mother. She wanted to help him solve this case.