‘Mrs. Kane,’ Hobbs said, ‘your husband mentioned some boy …’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just everything’s so strange. I don’t know how I’m supposed to react. I feel numb. They don’t prepare you for this, for having a child who’s a … junkie. One of Ashley’s doctors that first time sat us down and told us horrible things. How many kids – good kids, from good families – die each year from heroin, all of the diseases that go with it. They tested her for AIDS and hepatitis.’ Marion glanced at Barrett. ‘When she got out of that place, I swore that it would never happen again; I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. I searched her room when she was at school, insisted she give me the passwords for her MySpace and Facebook pages. I needed to know where she was all the time, who she was with; I didn’t let up. I couldn’t stop myself, but somehow, just a couple months later, the changes came back. She withdrew, lost weight, her eyes were funny sometimes … So back to Connecticut for another month. I was furious, but when she got out she promised to stay clean. And for the rest of the year and through graduation she was herself again. But this is where we made our big mistake. She’d applied and gotten accepted to half a dozen design schools. Her first choice was the Fashion Institute in Manhattan; it was her dream. We figured that she’d been off drugs for over a year, and that maybe she was done with it – like some kind of phase.’ Marion shook her head. ‘It happened so fast. She made it through her first semester, was excited, sewing up a storm, loving her classes; it was everything that she’d wanted. At Christmas it was like old times. She made me the most beautiful green-silk dress and gave her sister an outrageous scarf, all covered with feathers and … it was just wonderful. But a month later I knew something was wrong. She sounded tired and the spark was gone. I asked her point-blank if she was using drugs … I couldn’t even bring myself to say the word heroin. She denied it, said she just had a lot of projects to finish and hadn’t been sleeping well. I didn’t believe her and drove in. She was furious and told me that I didn’t trust her, which was the truth. I tried to reason with her and she screamed at me. Told me she was eighteen, that it was her life, and that I couldn’t drag her off to the hospital anymore.’ She looked at Barrett. ‘It was the most helpless feeling. I called her dean, the dorm manager. They all told me that there was nothing that could be done unless she was in imminent danger of hurting herself, and that without hard proof that she was using they couldn’t search her room.’
‘That must have been awful,’ Barrett said.
‘I called every day. Sometimes she wouldn’t even pick up. When she did she didn’t say much. I told her I knew she was using. I let her know that I loved her and that whenever she wanted to get treatment I’d help her.’ Tears slid down Marion’s face. ‘I knew something was going to happen. Every time the phone rang my heart jumped, wondering if this was going to be the bad news. And then two weeks ago, we got a call … it was three in the morning. She’d been arrested. She was crying and begging us to come to the police station and pick her up.’
From behind them, John Kane had reappeared. His gait was unsteady as he crossed the deck and joined them drink in hand.
Marion looked at her husband, and then at the two-thirds-full tumbler of Scotch. ‘I was telling them about Ashley’s arrest,’ she said.
‘We should have left them there,’ he responded. ‘Might have done some good.’
‘Them?’ Hobbs asked.
‘The boy,’ John Kane said, his vowels starting to slur. ‘The one who was feeding her dope,’ he said. ‘Bobby Dix. I bailed out Bobby Dix and my daughter.’
Marion cut in. ‘They’d been arrested for possession. The officer who was handling the case said that he could have upped it to possession with intent to sell, but because it was the first arrest for both of them, and because I told him that I’d get her into a treatment program, he’d go with the lesser charge. When I saw her in that cell, she looked like a junkie. She’d lost weight, you could see the bones in her face, and her eyes were like glass … empty. She begged me to get her out, and her boyfriend … Bobby. She’d never mentioned him before. She said she wouldn’t leave without him.’
Hobbs pulled out his packet of photos and placed a second one in front of John and Marion. ‘Is that him?’
‘He’s dead too?’ Marion asked. ‘They were together?’
‘Yes,’ Barrett said, not wanting to see the picture, ‘they were found yesterday morning.’
John stared at Bobby’s image and then at the one of his daughter. His eyes teared up again.
‘What happened after you bailed them out?’ Hobbs asked.
John choked and started to cough.
‘She’d lied to us,’ Marion said, watching her husband swig back his drink. ‘She’d promised that she’d go into a program. As soon as we left the precinct that changed to, “I couldn’t possibly go into a program until the summer.” Nothing would make her change her mind. John got angry, she started screaming in the middle of the street – it was horrible – and that’s the last time we saw her. She grabbed Bobby by the hand and they walked away.’
‘Do you know anything about him?’ Hobbs asked.
‘Just what she told us, which could have been lies. She said they’d been going out for four months. He was polite, good-looking, and he seemed embarrassed at how angry she got. He even tried to calm her down when she started to yell at us. I assumed he was a student like she was. I remember wondering why he hadn’t called his parents to get him. I didn’t want to ask too many questions and by that point we were all so tired; I was crying, John was furious. There was nothing we could do and so we drove home, and I started with the daily calls again, and hounding the dorm manager. He was very polite, but said there was nothing he could do.’
‘She called Saturday,’ John said, his glass nearly empty. ‘She told me she was sorry. I told Marion to pick up.’ He drained the Scotch.
‘She was frightened,’ Marion added, ‘but she wouldn’t say why. She was crying and begged us to take her and Bobby to rehab. I wasn’t about to argue. I told her to get a bag packed and we’d be there as fast as we could. She told us she’d be in her dorm room. When we got there she was gone. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I got the dorm manager and made him go around to every single room in that building. No one had seen her, no one knew anything; I knew they were lying. I tried to call her on her cell, she wouldn’t pick up.’
She looked at her husband. His eyes were watery. ‘Finally,’ she said, ‘I got her roommate – Taylor – alone. I knew she didn’t want to talk to me; she was scared. I remember when Ashley first got to the Institute she’d talked about Taylor; she’d found a friend … one who didn’t use drugs. Taylor wouldn’t say anything and had me go with her into the bathroom. She told me that everything changed when Ashley started going with Bobby. She said he wasn’t a student, he was a drug dealer who hung out at the dorm. She said he tried to pass as a student, had an ID that he’d use to get in. But what made her so frightened was she said he wasn’t the only one and that lots of kids in the dormitory were experimenting with heroin. I asked her when she’d last seen Ashley, or Bobby for that matter. If she knew where they were staying … She didn’t.’ Marion’s jaw trembled. ‘The rest of that day and the past couple have been a blur. We went back to the precinct station where she’d been arrested. They couldn’t help. We couldn’t even file a missing person’s report because it was too soon.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘When we couldn’t think of anything else, we drove around the Village, the Lower East Side, those horrible parks in Brooklyn where people live in tents. Finally, we came home. I tried her cell, I don’t know how many times more, called the dean, the dorm manager … Mostly, I think we’ve been waiting … and here you are.’
‘Did this Taylor mention any other names?’ Hobbs asked. ‘Any of the other kids she thought were doing or selling the drugs?’
‘No,’ Marion said. ‘She was too frightened. I think just talking to us took everything she had.’
&n
bsp; ‘No mention of a Carly or a young man named Jerod?’ he persisted.
‘No.’
Her husband stared out at the distant vista, the rolling hills on the other side of the valley, the river below. A tear dropped, his jaw clenched, and he suddenly hurled his tumbler as far as he could. It sparkled in the sun before vanishing from view. He turned back to Hobbs, and looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. ‘Will we need to identify the body?’
‘Yes,’ Hobbs said, pulling one of his cards from his breast pocket. He turned it over and wrote on the back. ‘This is the address for the morgue, and the number. Call before you go, and if you could do it today, or tomorrow at the latest, it would be best.’ He straightened, glanced at Barrett and then back at the Kanes. ‘We’ll go now. If there’s anything else you think of, don’t hesitate to call. And please accept my condolences; this is something that no parent should ever have to face. I am truly sorry.’
‘Thank you,’ Marion said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She led them back out front and stood motionless as they drove off.
Barrett watched her in the side mirror. ‘I can’t imagine what she’s feeling,’ she commented, losing sight of her as the Crown Vic crunched and turned on the crushed shells. She thought of Max, his chubby cheeks and crystal-blue eyes, not wanting to think about what it would be like to have your child’s life end.
‘Yes,’ Hobbs agreed, and they drove in silence, each thinking about their own families. Finally Hobbs broke the quiet. ‘Unfortunately heroin is dirt cheap right now and what used to be the most taboo drug has become the thing to do. What Mrs. Kane was saying about that kid dealing in the dorm. That kind of thing happens, but it’s usually softer stuff and club drugs – lots of pot, some hallucinogens, hash, E, but not dope. It’s also usually one of the students or a group of them that starts dealing out of their room. Invariably somebody rats them out and they get closed down. But this feels different, more organized. You know, I think I’d like to have a word with that girl, Taylor. Interested in tagging along, maybe grab something to eat when we get back to the city?’
‘Sure,’ Barrett said, wondering a little at the invitation. She glanced at the clock – it was nearly four – and remembered her mother’s request to get home on time. If traffic were good, which was a gamble, they’d be back in the city by six, more than anything she needed to check in at her office and see if they’d come up with anything new. ‘I need to call home,’ and uncertain as to why she felt such hesitation, she pressed speed dial.
‘Hi, Mom,’ Barrett said. ‘How’s Max?’
‘Still good, dear.’ She paused. ‘I’m assuming you’re on the way home …’
‘About that,’ Barrett said, ‘any chance you could go in late tonight? Something bad happened at work and—’
‘No, dear, there isn’t and it’s too late to call Brandon for a sub. I need to get back to my place and change, I’ve got a blob of spit-up on my shoulder. Not to mention pull myself together into the vision of loveliness my regulars have come to expect. I was counting on you being home by six. What about giving your sister a call? Maybe she could sit?’
‘No, Justine’s working crazy hours at the hospital right now. She needs to sleep. I’ll get home as soon as I can, but it’s not going to be much before seven.’
‘Barrett,’ her mother said in a tone she’d heard only rarely as a child, ‘don’t do this to me. Brandon is the best boss in the world, but even he has his limits and I can’t lose my job. I love you and adore Max, but I’ve been here since eight this morning and I need you to come home now. Do you understand?’
Barrett was about to say something when Hobbs reached over and grabbed her cell. ‘Hi, Ruth.’
‘Ed?’ Ruth said, all annoyance gone. ‘Well, there’s a welcome voice. How the hell are you and how come you stopped calling?’
He gave Barrett a look. ‘Long story. I promise to get her home by six.’
‘I’d certainly appreciate that,’ Ruth said, now all Southern loveliness and drawl.
‘My pleasure,’ and he hung up, before Barrett could retrieve the phone.
‘Why did you do that?’
‘She has a point. Going back to your office won’t make a hill of beans difference, let the crime-scene team finish their thing … You can go back tomorrow. Or if you’re really feeling desperate to look at it again we could head there after seeing that girl.’
‘But I’ve got Max.’
‘So? We’ll bring him with us.’
She looked at Ed, about to argue, but realized two things; first, he was right and second, the thought of spending time with him and Max together – even if it involved interviewing a witness – didn’t sound half bad.
NINE
Janice Fleet looked across her gleaming mahogany desk at fifteen-year-old Morgan DeFelice – Chase was correct, this little slut was just what the customers wanted, and at the end of the day it was all about the money, and struggling to maintain the Manhattan lifestyle that a hundred sixty-five thousand a year as a commissioner couldn’t come close to covering.
But Morgan, with her dyed blonde hair, stomach-baring striped top that revealed a navel piercing with a shiny purple ring, low-rider jeans, and cheap shoes, brought lots of memories bubbling to the surface – bad memories. She pushed those away, and dressed in a light-weight Kelly green suit and silk blouse she was all business. It wasn’t easy, this one looked so much like the first one – Krista – the one she and Avery had taken into their home nearly ten years ago, the one who’d turned her life to shit.
‘So, Morgan,’ she smiled, showing her even porcelain-veneered teeth, noting how the girl seemed out of place and fidgety in the tasteful Chelsea office that had once been Avery’s. It was where he provided consultation and performed minor cosmetic procedures. It was also where she caught him screwing Krista – their foster daughter – in one of the two examination rooms. ‘What kind of work do you think you’d be interested in doing?’ It was evening and the four-storey building, still owned by the limited liability corporation she and Avery had set up, was deserted, just her and Morgan … and of course Chase, waiting in the next room. The blinds were drawn and the dark-wood furniture, shelves filled with books and awards, midnight-blue carpet and leather couch and matching club chairs and ottomans gave the room a cozy feel.
‘Well,’ the girl leaned forward; she gazed at the wall of framed glossy photos of high-fashion models interspersed with plaques and awards on the shelving unit behind Janice, ‘I’ve done a lot of modeling. You know, catalog and runway, but what really interests me is acting. I know I would have to start small, but maybe something on Broadway. Work my way up to television and films.’
‘A girl with ambition,’ Janice said, noting that her tongue had been pierced. ‘Excellent.’ She got up and walked across to the bar. ‘Could I get you something to drink. A soda? A wine cooler?’ She winked, and opened the refrigerator concealed by a wood panel. ‘It is after five.’
Morgan’s eyes lit and her tongue darted between her lips at the mention of alcohol. ‘It has so many calories, but I’d love a cooler.’
‘Smart girl to think about that, no matter how thin, you’ve got to watch the figure.’ Janice removed two bottles of the sickening sweet pink beverages from the fridge. ‘Ice?’
‘Yes, please.’
Janice twisted the caps on the two drinks, making sure the girl heard the whoosh of carbonated bubbles. She clinked ice cubes into large dark blue acrylic tumblers – breaking glass can be such a bother – and handed one to Morgan.
‘I saw you left your bag in the waiting room,’ Janice said, loving this part, the setting of the trap, the bait, the steel jaws about to slam down. ‘Any chance you’ve brought your book?’ She watched Morgan’s face, wondering what shape the lies would take.
‘I completely forgot,’ she said without pause and took a couple deep swallows of the sugary drink.
‘Not even a headshot and résumé?’ Janice asked.
> ‘I just had new pictures taken,’ Morgan said.
‘Not to worry,’ Janice said, ‘a pretty girl like you,’ and she asked Morgan an innocuous stream of questions, to which the girl responded with lies. Telling Janice she was eighteen and had graduated high school. She threw around names of well-known photographers and magazines she had worked with and appeared in.
But by the time Janice got to, ‘What was your favorite course in high school?’ Morgan’s eyes had fluttered shut.
Janice swooped forward and retrieved the rest of the drugged drink before it left yet another stain on the dark carpet. She pried it from the girl’s soft pink fingers, noting how the nails had been bitten and would need a bit of work with an emery board.
‘OK, Chase.’ She knocked on the connecting door and opened it. ‘She’s ready.’
While Janice drugged the girl, Chase waited in what had been one of the examination rooms for Dr. Avery Fleet’s cosmetic and reconstructive surgery practice. It had two doors, one that led to the office and the other to the waiting room and reception desk. He sat in the semi-dark and made a rapid series of phone calls – seven in total, the numbers all memorized. The phone was a top-of-the-line prepaid cell with light-up buttons, speaker phone, conference calling, and camera and video capability, just like the one that had gone missing. It would be used for tonight only and then he’d pulverize it with a hammer and send the plastic and metal guts through a cross-cut shredder. It was what should have been done with the last one. ‘Yes,’ he said into the cell, ‘in twenty to thirty minutes. Very good.’ He hung up and called the next.
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