The Girl Who Wants

by Amy Vansant

  Croix held up her palms. “Seriously, I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. I just wanted a break.”

  Shee looked at Angelina. Her friend’s expression was empathetic, but she seemed resigned. She believed the girl.

  Smirky Croix slid a hand across her hair, flattening her kinky curls. She’d made the same motion several times during the car ride and half a dozen times since they arrived in the cemetery.

  She’s self-conscious about her frizz.

  Shee banked the information in case she decided to go full-high-school-mean-girl on Croix at a later date. The girl had her feeling like an angry teen.

  Angelina slapped the top of the girl’s leg in what felt like an attempt to break the tension. “Hey, Shee, tell Croix how we met.”

  “I don’t give a shit how you met,” muttered Croix.

  Shee hefted a clump of dirt behind her.

  “Do you remember?’ prompted Angelina.

  Shee wiped her brow and sighed. “Of course I remember.”

  “Tell them.”

  “Ding dong,” said Bracco, pausing to wipe his own forehead.

  Shee glanced at Croix. The girl had slipped the earbuds back into her ears, refusing to look in Shee’s direction, but no tinny music filled the warm night air.

  Shee stabbed the shovel into the dirt again.

  “Fine.”

  &&&

  Chapter Fourteen

  Twenty-Five Years Ago

  “You going out?” asked Mick from the bathroom, where he stood shaving in front of the cracked mirror of his crappy motel room.

  Shee moved to sit and then thought better of it. The chairs were so threadbare and greasy from wear they looked more like flesh than fabric. Her room, three doors down, wasn’t much better, but if pressed, she’d guess more people had been murdered in Mick’s room.

  “We really need to upgrade our hotels,” she said.

  “That would mean less stipend money for things more fun than sleeping.” Mick bent closer to the mirror to clean the tip of his chin.

  She chuckled. “You’re going to wash out of flight school.”

  “What?”

  “You lean closer to that mirror every year. Your eyesight is going.”

  He scoffed. “I’m still twenty-twenty.”

  “Uh huh. But not twenty, old man.”

  “Who would want to be? That’s your cross to bear. And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer my question.”

  Shee grimaced.

  So much for distraction tactics.

  “No, I’m not going out. I’m running a cockfight out of my bathroom.”

  “The place isn’t that bad.”

  Shee grunted. “More like cockroach fight.”

  Mick moved to the bathroom’s doorway, toweling his face. “You need to find some people your own age.”

  “We’re working.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t unwind.”

  “Like you did last night? Ew.” She’d seen him canoodling with a dark-haired woman.

  Mick’s cheeks flushed even darker than they’d already grown from his hot shave. He turned back to the mirror for a last inspection. “She’s a nice lady. In fact, I’m seeing her again tonight.”

  Shee dropped it. She’d learned years ago her father felt comfortable meeting ladies anywhere. She always booked a room a few doors down from his during their road trips. The only thing worse than waking to the rhythmic thumping of the couple next door, was knowing one of them was her father.

  So gross.

  She placed a hand on the doorknob to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Romeo.”

  Her father called after her. “Go out and have some fun.”

  She shut the door.

  Right.

  In the parking lot, a couple argued beside a Ford Thunderbird the color of baby vomit. From what she could glean through the scatter array of f-bombs, the woman didn’t appreciate the man coming home from work half-drunk. On the other hand, he was up to here (about eight inches above his head) with her nagging. The blue-swaddled baby in the woman’s arms didn’t care either way. He giggled as his mother swung him back and forth. Mommy was like a rollercoaster when she argued with Daddy.

  Ah, the glamorous life.

  Shee smiled to herself and then realized she’d fixated on the gurgling baby that swang like a powder-blue clock pendulum.

  Her mood darkened.

  Stop it.

  She knew where this rabbit hole led. Self-pity never got anyone anywhere. She wanted a life. She wanted her career.

  Mason was better off without her.

  They could have ended up being just like the couple arguing outside the motel about diapers.

  Though she never would have bought that car.

  Shee let herself into her room, flicked on a dim yellow bulb and stood in front of the stack of papers piled on the dresser.

  Time to take you down.

  She’d started a side project, searching for a rich kid named Scotty Carson, last seen not far from their current location.

  Ole Scotty’s proximity was no coincidence. Shee had picked their current target and suggested the motel next to the bar. It hadn’t been hard to talk Mick into it. The job and the motel put her within driving distance of her side project.

  She hoped.

  A legacy candidate at the United States Naval Academy, Scotty Carson’s Rear Admiral father ensured his son’s acceptance. All Scotty wanted to do was party. He’d nearly gotten himself kicked out for grades twice before accusations of rape surfaced. Rather than face the music, he’d run.

  Shee and Mick had been at the USNA in Annapolis, Maryland, when some of the female plebes let her in on the Scotty situation. She’d talked to several of Scotty’s accusers including a few who’d been too scared to officially report. The girls had been physically beaten, raped and emotionally shattered. The women had been strong enough to enter the man’s world of the Naval Academy, only to have hard-fought and well-deserved careers hobbled by the actions of one evil, entitled bastard.

  It didn’t take long for Shee to uncover Scotty’s unsavory past. A trail of abused girlfriends led as far back as high school. One ex had gone missing, presumed a runaway, but with Scotty as the last man to see her alive...

  How could I not help?

  She might have talked Mick into hunting Scotty, but the Navy hadn’t officially asked him to track the Rear Admiral’s son. He wasn’t authorized to moonlight, so she went through every possible case until she found someone near where she thought Scotty would be.

  Shee hoisted the papers into her arms and carted them outside to take advantage of the fresh air and dying sunlight. She’d learned years ago spending time beneath the flickering lights of cheap motel rooms was the fastest way to ruin her mood.

  Pulling a plastic chair to her portion of the shared patio, she plopped the pile on a matching white table.

  Scotty’s father swore he wasn’t supporting his monstrous son during the boy’s time on the lam. Maybe he wasn’t. Rumor had it Rear Admiral Carson was planning to run for Senator. His rapey kid was embarrassment enough—let it be known he helped his son escape and his political career would be scuttled.

  Scotty’s most probable support system lived nearby. Without Daddy, Scotty needed someone, and after poring through old yearbook and Academy photos, Shee had noticed a boy named William Kay often appeared grinning by Scotty’s side. Another entitled USNA legacy kid, William Kay had made it through clean and was currently training at the Naval Aviation Schools Command, in Pensacola, Florida. He had a parent-funded apartment near Middleburg, Virginia, though. A home base.

  An empty home base.

  William Kay’s apartment would be Shee’s first stop. She looked at her watch. She wanted to be on the road before sundown, but her father was taking forever primping for his date.

  Someone yanked open a sticky door and she peered down the long porch to spot her father, looking dapper and hopelessly military, even in his street clothes. H
e spotted her pile of homework and frowned.

  “What is that?”

  “Just notes for the next case.”

  “You already picked a new one?”

  She nodded.

  “All work and no play makes Shee a dull girl,” he warned.

  She shrugged. “Someone has to balance us out.”

  He bobbed his head in the direction of the honkytonk. “I’ll be over there a while. You’re welcome to join us if you get bored.”

  “At the Donkey Tonk? Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Oh come on. It’ll be fun.”

  She shook her head. “You just want to use me as bait.”

  “Bait?”

  “Women love a man with a baby.”

  He laughed. “You’re twenty-one.”

  “But I’m adorable.”

  Mick walked away, chuckling.

  As soon as he reached the halfway point between the the hotel and the bar next door, Shee moved inside to drop her paper pile back on the dresser. She grabbed her oversized purse and the spare car key and headed to their Jeep. William Kay’s house was twenty minutes away. If her hunch was right, she could have Scotty in custody in less than an hour, her first solo capture completed.

  &&&

  Running through scenarios in her mind, Shee nearly missed the turn into Kay’s apartment complex. She circled the lot and parked one building down from his second-floor entrance. Nothing about any of the cars parked outside screamed Scotty. He’d skipped in a hand-me-down BMW, but he’d have traded that car by now if he were smart. No doubt his father had some pretty talented gumshoes on his trail.

  Shee looked up. The apartment’s only front-facing window was dark.

  Feeling her pepper spray inside her purse, she left the Jeep and made her way up the stairs to knock on Kay’s door.

  No answer.

  No problem.

  She retrieved her lock-picking pack and jimmied the door to slip inside.

  So far, so good.

  The small apartment was neat. It didn’t feel as though anyone had lived there recently. Stale air filled her nostrils as disappointment slumped her shoulders.

  Might have called this one wrong.

  She moved from room to room. Bed made. No toiletries displayed. Everything clean, the way someone might leave a home if they knew they’d be out of town for a long time.

  Hope dwindled until she spotted an envelope in an otherwise empty trashcan and plucked it out. Plain, white, empty. Reusable, but trashed instead.

  Hm.

  Had William left something for Scotty to pick up? Something that fit in an envelope. Cash? Instructions? A key?

  She moved to the kitchen trash and slid it from its hidden spot behind a lower cabinet. Like the other trashcan, it proved empty but for one thing, this time, an empty wine bottle.

  Shee pulled out the bottle. She didn’t know much about wine, but it looked expensive. Scotty had a thing for pricey wines, if the photos she’d seen of him holding up glasses and bottles were any indication.

  She turned over the bottle. Not a drop. It smelled like vinegar. He hadn’t been drinking here lately.

  Shee wandered to the sofa and sat, trying to imagine where Scotty had enjoyed his wine. Probably here, on the sofa, in front of the television.

  On top of a coffee-table book about the history of military planes—no doubt a Christmas present from William Kay’s proud parents to their son—sat a local Pennywise magazine. A classified ad circular was the sort of thing a local rich young man would never grab from the magazine stand outside a food store. No label, it hadn’t come through the mail, and Kay wouldn’t have left it out after otherwise meticulously cleaning his apartment.

  She picked up the flyer and flipped through it.

  What were you looking for, Scotty? What do you need? New car?

  Maybe. And if his father wasn’t supporting him, he needed money. He wasn’t going to make it far without Daddy paying the bills. Not with his taste in wine.

  Shee glanced at the envelope again. William and Scotty looked a lot alike. What if the envelope had contained an old I.D.? Using his buddy’s I.D. to skip the country would be risky, but to get a job somewhere, figure out his next step...

  Shee stopped flipping as her gaze settled on a classified ad for a local vineyard looking for store help.

  That would be a way to keep Scotty’s habit fed and earn cash.

  Worth a shot.

  Shee locked the apartment behind her and drove ten minutes to Fine Oaks Vineyard. Trying to look as cute and aimless as possible, she rolled up her shorts and tied the bottom of her shirt to reveal her midriff.

  She’d be bait tonight, after all.

  The sign on the door said the shop closed at six, but she found the entrance unlocked. Behind a large wooden counter, a middle-aged man busied himself wiping down a tasting station.

  “We’re closed,” he said, glancing up from his work.

  “Is Billy working tonight?” She wasn’t sure why she’d asked for Billy and not William. Just an instinct Scotty might alter the name. The town wasn’t so large someone might not recognize the name William Kay, and as a grown man going by Scotty, Billy wasn’t a stretch.

  “Billy Kay or Billy Hightower?”

  Shee fought to hide her excitement.

  “Kay.”

  The man jerked a thumb behind him. “He’s stocking. You can go back.”

  She smiled and headed through swinging doors into a small warehouse.

  A young man turned as she entered. A boy she’d seen in a dozen photos.

  Hello, Scotty Carson.

  Scotty did a double take before offering a guileless grin. He’d slipped into his nice guy persona as easily as donning a cap.

  “Hello. Can I help you?” he asked, his gaze sweeping down to her toes and back up.

  This might be easier than I thought.

  He hadn’t wasted a moment telegraphing his interest. Scotty wasn’t a handsome guy—only his youth and exaggerated air of masculinity provided him appeal. A well-practiced sheepish smile leapt to hide the wolf inside. I’m safe, it said. I’m big and strong, but only here to protect you.

  Shee smiled. “I was going to buy my Daddy some wine for his birthday, but I don’t know what to get. The man out front said you know a lot.”

  She batted her eyes, feeling ridiculous.

  Too much?

  She didn’t think of herself as a bombshell, but she’d been watching men’s reactions to her raven hair, big green eyes and generous bosom for years. In civilian life, she was out of Scotty’s league. If she seemed too eager, he might get suspicious.

  Scotty moved in as if she were magnetic. “He’s right. I know a lot.”

  Scotty had no confidence issues.

  “Aren’t I lucky I bumped into you?” Shee bit her bottom lip.

  He held out a hand. “Shall we?”

  She forced a giggle and placed her hand in his. His touch was revolting.

  He led her to a long rack of red wines and motioned to a bottle.

  “This is my favorite, though if you’re having steak you might want something a little more bold.”

  “Ah… just want something nice.” She noticed somewhere along the way she’d picked up a southern accent.

  Scotty slid a bottle from the rack. “This is a bargain for the money. Does nineteen dollars fit in your range?”

  She grimaced. “Nineteen?”

  He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in until his lips nearly brushed her ear.

  “Tell you what. I get off in ten minutes. Why don’t you wait outside and let me see if I can find you a real bargain?”

  She struggled not to recoil. “Sure. Ah’ll wait for ya.”

  With a final hair flip and a flirty smirk, Shee walked away shaking her tush as best she could until she was outside. There, she leaned against the wall of the building, fingering the pair of cuffs in her purse.

  When can I slap them on? He was bigger than she’d imagined. His siz
e and strength made his cowardly attacks on women even more despicable, and made his capture even more dicey. She hadn’t wanted to pepper-spray him in the store. The counterman might have come to his rescue and complicated everything.

  Maybe I should call Dad—

  Too late. Scotty appeared, a backpack over his shoulder. He looked around and then sidled up against her, his hip touching hers.

  Guy’s about as subtle as a heart attack.

  He unzipped the backpack to reveal two bottles inside. The way he glanced at the door to be sure no one was watching told her he hadn’t bought them.

  At least he’s a thief, too.

  “Two?” she asked.

  He winked. “One for you and me.”

  She opened her eyes wide to appear impressed and grateful, stalling as she tried to formulate a plan.

  She couldn’t be alone with Scotty Carson. Alone was a rapist’s favorite place. If only Dad—

  That was it.

  Take him to Dad.

  Mick was at the bar. Surely, she could talk Scotty to a bar?

  “Aren’t you sweet?” she gushed. “But ah gotta stop at work real quick like. Can we stop at the Donkey Tonk?”

  “That boot-scootin’ place? You work there?”

  “Just started.”

  He nodded. He seemed unsure—didn’t want to be seen with her. Smart. Always best to not strut around town with your potential rape victim.

  She rushed to offer the urging he needed.

  “My roommate’s out of town.” She blinked at him, again feeling like a cartoon seductress. “Ah just gotta make that stop for a sec.”

  The confident grin returned to his face and he shrugged.

  “Sure.”

  With another forced grin she jogged to the Jeep, trying to bounce as much as possible. He got into an old pickup truck he must have bought for a song and followed her toward the Donkey Tonk. She checked the rearview often to be sure he didn’t peel away with a change of heart.

  Shee’s nerves jangled as the bar’s neon donkey came into view.

  Now, she just had to hope her charming father hadn’t sealed the deal too early.

  She parked and approached Scotty’s truck as he pulled in beside her.