by Aimée Thurlo
“Hey, Brandy, how are you doing? Cold evening to be working.”
“Pays the bills,” Brandy answered with a shrug. “So you looking for a threesome?” she added, giving Kendra the once-over.
Kendra forced a smile, glad she hadn’t choked.
“Thanks, but, no,” he said, placing his arm over Kendra’s shoulder in a familiar, yet casual gesture. “Actually I’m looking for Annie Crenshaw—slim, blonde and a little shorter than you. I heard she hangs here sometimes.”
Brandy made a face. “Oh, Antsy Annie? She’s messed up. Don’t waste your money. You can do a lot better.”
“We just need to talk to her. Give me a call if you see her,” Paul said, then reached for his wallet.
Kendra figured he’d give her his card but, instead, Paul handed Brandy a couple of twenties.
“You still got my cell number?” he asked her.
“Burned into my memory,” Brandy said, giving him a big smile “555-1967.”
A small, buxom brunette in jeans so tight they left nothing to the imagination came up and put her hand on Paul’s arm. “Hey, handsome, it’s good to see you.”
“Hey, Kat,” Paul greeted. “How’ve you been?”
Kendra watched Paul as he spoke to the women. He treated them with respect, looking past their present circumstances and seeing who they were at heart—women trying to survive. That kindness seemed to bring out the best in them.
Soon a tall, slender man wearing a stocking cap and a long leather coat climbed out of a parked Mercedes and came over. “These are my girls, so quit wasting their time with chitchat, Grayhorse. Make a deal or move along. Time is money—my money.”
“Don’t disrespect me or the ladies, Bobby. Get back in the car.”
“Yeah, yeah. Talk big. Now look, man, you’re hurting my business here, and my girls are trying to make a living. You got five minutes, then be gone before you scare away any customers, comprendes?” Bobby glanced at a passing car with a solitary driver. The man eagerly eyed the women, but when he saw Paul watching him, he accelerated down the street.
“There goes a regular. Am I gonna have to pay you to get lost, dude?”
“I’m looking for Annie Crenshaw. Seen her around this evening?”
“She ain’t one of mine—too flat and skinny for my players. I saw her coming out of the Excelsior Drugstore about ten minutes ago, two blocks down on Fourth. If she didn’t pick up someone along the way, she’s probably at the far end of this alley by now.”
Paul gave Bobby a curt nod and smiled at the women. “Take care, ladies.”
“Come by anytime,” Brandy said.
Paul and Kendra walked side by side down the sidewalk, circling the block instead of going up the alley. Despite their easy strides, Kendra stayed alert for trouble.
As the shadows deepened and darkness took over, the wind intensified. Cold gusts chilled their faces as they walked. Kendra pulled the zipper on the jacket all the way up to her neck. Remembering the scanty clothing Brandy, Kat and the other women had been wearing, she wondered how they could stand the cold. Maybe that was one of the reasons they remained around the corner, near the building.
As soon as they reached the far corner, they saw a slender blonde in a furry jacket, high heels and short skirt walking away from them down the sidewalk, her eyes on passing cars.
“I think that’s Annie,” Kendra said, “but we need to get close without spooking her. If she thinks we’re cops, she’ll probably ditch the heels and run for it.”
“Why don’t you cross the street and I’ll hang back? Once you’re past her, you’ll be in position to cut her off if she decides to make a race out of it. Just don’t make eye contact. Keep looking at your watch and pretend you’re late for an appointment.”
“Good plan. Let’s do it.”
Kendra crossed the street and then glanced back at him. Some men stood above the rest effortlessly. She hadn’t known Paul Grayhorse for long, but something told her she’d never forget him.
Chapter Seven
While Kendra walked down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, Paul stood on the corner, pretending to text someone on his cell phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annie stop beside a lamppost.
She turned in his direction, but he deliberately avoided her gaze, and she shifted her attention back to the street. Hopefully she wouldn’t hook up with a customer or a dealer before they moved in.
Their luck held. Once Paul saw Kendra reach the end of the block and cross back to his side of the street, he made his move.
Paul walked toward Annie slowly, pretending to be focused on text messaging and looking up only sporadically to see where he was going.
By the time he got within twenty feet, she was waiting for him, assuming a sexy stance, with her hands on her hips, her chest out, her jacket open.
He put the cell phone back into his pocket and gave her an interested onceover as he approached.
She gave him a weary smile. “Hi, handsome. You finally done texting, huh? How’d you like to party with a real live woman?”
“You read my mind,” Paul said, smiling back at her.
Behind Annie, Kendra was closing in from the opposite direction. All they needed was five more seconds, and Annie would be trapped.
Suddenly someone in a passing car honked the horn. “Naughty, naughty,” two or three teenage boys yelled in unison.
Annie turned, armed with an obscene gesture, and saw Kendra. As she looked back at Paul, her eyes grew wide.
“You’re cops!” she yelled, spinning around.
Paul reached for her arm, but Annie slipped past him and shot down the alley. He sprinted after her, but the woman kicked off her heels, barely losing a step as she ran faster than a spooked jackrabbit.
He was closing in when she suddenly veered to one side, grabbed the chest-high end of a fire escape ladder and pulled herself up.
By the time Paul reached the ladder, Annie was already at the second story of the old brick apartment building.
Paul looked back. Where was Kendra? Ignoring the sudden pain radiating from his shoulder, he pulled himself up and began to climb.
“Annie, wait,” he yelled. “We’re not cops. All we want to do is talk.”
“Screw you,” she yelled from above, not slowing down.
The ladder extended all the way to the roof, but instead of going to the top, Annie stepped onto a small balcony protected by a metal railing. Grabbing a big flower pot, she slammed it, plant and all, into the lock of a glass door.
By the time Paul reached the balcony, Annie was already inside the building. He slipped through the half open door and raced across someone’s apartment just as a man in a bathrobe poked his head out from behind a hall door.
“What the hell?” Paul heard the man yell as he rushed past him and out the apartment’s front door.
Hearing a bell, Paul turned his head down the dimly lit hall in time to see an elevator door closing. He raced for the stairs, taking each flight in three steps or less.
He reached the bottom floor in time to see Annie rush out the foyer, nearly knocking down an elderly woman at her mailbox.
The moment Annie left the building and stepped onto the sidewalk, Kendra cut her off. She grabbed Annie, spun her around and pushed her against the outside wall of the building.
“Stop struggling, Annie. I don’t want to hurt you and you don’t want to be hurt,” Kendra snapped.
“All we want to do is talk to you,” Paul said calmly, joining them outside. “We can walk over to the bus depot, get some coffee, and talk there, or we can do this at the station. Your choice.”
“Not the station, please,” she said, and stopped resisting.
Kendra eased the pressure on her wrist. “I’m going to let you go, but if you run, I’ll catch up and take you down hard. Your next stop will be a jail cell or the emergency room. I’m giving you a choice, so don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t run,” Annie said.
“Good, now let’s get out of the cold,” Kendra said.
They walked down to the bus depot and went into the coffee bar. Annie sat down first, then looked at Kendra and Paul. “What do you two want from me?”
“We need some information,” Paul said.
“I don’t talk for free. Show me some money.”
“Not going to happen. I’ll give you a ride to the shelter, though,” Paul said.
Annie shook her head. “I’ll pass. So, what do you need?” she asked as Paul handed her some coffee.
“You made a call from Yolanda Sharpe’s apartment the other night—to me. Why?” Paul asked.
“You’re the mark. I thought I recognized your voice,” she said with a sigh. “It was supposed to be payback for you sleeping with Chuck’s girlfriend. He said you were a wannabe hero, and that you’d go nuts wondering what happened to the woman who called you. Chuck was sure it would keep you running around for days, hassling the cops.”
Annie stared into the coffee cup, then back up at him. “Chuck was a loon, but I guess he was right about you, because here you are....”
“Back up a bit. Who is this Chuck character?” Paul pressed.
“Don’t know...honest. He never told me his last name.”
“What did ‘Chuck’ look like?” Kendra asked.
“Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, light skin, freckles, soft voice,” she said. “Fit. Not bad-looking, I guess.”
“Sounds like the guy Nick saw around his dad’s coffee shop. Do you think you’d recognize Chuck if you saw him again?” Kendra asked.
“Maybe, but he kind of freaked me out, so I didn’t look him straight in the face too long.”
Kendra brought out the photo of Chris Miller and held it up so Annie could take a look. “Could this be Chuck?”
“Yeah...no...well, maybe. His hair looks wrong, and with the cap and glasses... Sorry, I can’t be sure,” Annie said.
“You sounded pretty scared when you spoke to me, Annie. Are you really that good an actress?” Paul said, watching her closely.
“I was scared. Chuck brought out this wicked knife. He told me that if I didn’t make it sound real, he’d mess up my face real bad.”
Paul didn’t say anything, but his fist curled up. “So how did he find you?”
“I was working the corner by Central and Fourth. He pulled up, waved some bills, so I got inside his car. He said he didn’t want sex, but he was looking for someone to help him mess with somebody. Payback, he said. He offered me two hundred if I’d make a phone call for him. After he handed me five twenties, I said yes. I should have known he was a sicko....”
“Why did he have you make the call from Yolanda’s apartment?” Paul asked her.
“He didn’t. That was my idea,” Annie said sheepishly. “I wanted to get her into trouble. Chuck said that we’d need to use a throwaway phone because the guy I was calling was an ex-lawman with friends who’d trace the call for him. When I heard that, I figured using Yolanda’s phone was a great way for me to get back at her.”
“I thought you and Yolanda were friends,” Kendra said.
“Not anymore. She won’t have anything to do with me these days. She won’t even let me crash on her couch, even though she’s got plenty of room,” Annie said. “Guess she forgot I still have a key to her apartment.”
“So you’ve gone by there when she wasn’t home?” Paul asked.
“A few times, yeah, and I took some of her jewelry to sell,” Annie said. “Serves her right for cutting me out of her life just ’cause I’m down on my luck.”
“A real friend won’t let you go downhill without trying to stop you,” Paul said, then gave her his card. “When you finally decide to get help to turn your life around, call me. I can connect you with the right people.”
Annie took the card but didn’t comment.
“A few more questions, Annie, then you’re free to go,” Kendra said. “Did Chuck tell you what to say, or did you come up with that?”
“He gave me a script he’d written out and had me rehearse it until he was satisfied.”
“What about his car? What make and model was he driving?” Kendra asked.
“It was a dark color, black or blue, that’s all I remember. I don’t know cars real well, but it was a two-door and it wasn’t fancy.”
“After he paid you the second hundred, he just let you walk away?” Kendra asked.
“No, it wasn’t like that at all. Chuck was crazy, I’m telling you. By the time we were walking back to his car, all I wanted to do was get away from him and that knife. He offered me a ride back downtown, but I told him no, that I’d just take the bus. I even told him to forget about the other hundred he owed me, but he grabbed my arm and was pulling me back to his car when a cop drove by. He eased up a little then and I jerked free. I ran to the bus and rode all the way across town. I kept watch all the way, too, but he didn’t follow. I haven’t seen him since.”
“We need a more detailed description of the guy you met, Annie,” Kendra said. “Would you be willing to work with one of our techs and help us come up with a computer image of Chuck?”
“If I do, you’ll let me go?”
“I don’t think you realize just how much trouble you’re in, Annie,” Paul said. “We’re the best chance you’ve got of staying alive. If I’m right, and I think I am, Chuck’s also involved in the murder of a federal agent. Right now you’re a liability to him. Without our help, you’re as good as dead.”
“I’ll hide out and move to another part of town,” she said quickly.
“That won’t be enough. Think about this, Annie. You’re a witness who can identify him, and you walk the streets, wanting to be seen. He’s going to find you again, sooner or later. To stay alive you’re going to need our help.”
“I’ll take care of myself. The cops can’t help me,” she said, a trace of uncertainty woven through her words.
“The weather’s going to continue to get colder,” Kendra said. “You’ll be sleeping in places without heat, going hungry, and constantly looking over your shoulder for a killer. Is that really what you want for yourself?”
Annie shuddered and pulled her jacket around herself. “No,” she whispered.
“Accept our help,” Paul said. “You’ll have a warm, clean place to sleep and food on a regular basis. Give yourself a chance.”
Annie looked at Paul. “Why do you care what happens to me?”
“Everyone deserves a chance,” he said reaching for his cell phone and dialing Preston. “That’s all I’m offering you, Annie. What you do with it is up to you.”
* * *
PRESTON PICKED UP Annie a short time later. “No jail, right?” Annie repeated.
Preston nodded. “As we agreed, Ms. Crenshaw. I’ll take you to a rehab facility. Later today we’ll send over our tech. He’ll work with you to create a computer sketch of the suspect.”
After Preston said goodbye and he and Annie had driven off, Paul walked back to his truck with Kendra.
“What’s on your mind?” Paul said, noting Kendra’s silence.
She didn’t answer right away.
“Something’s bugging you, so you might as well get it out in the open. Otherwise it’ll stay in the back of your mind and remain a distraction.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “Here’s the thing, Paul. I’ve noticed that you have a way with women.”
“You think so?” He flashed her a quick half grin.
“I’m a Deputy U.S. Marshal, Paul. I’m immune. So focus,” she added, working hard not to smile back.
“Okay, go on. What’s your point?”
“You’re a bachelor with no shortage of women friends, the kind who can lead a guy into all sorts of trouble. I’m thinking that it’s time we took a real close look at your past...playmates,” she said after a beat. “Maybe one of them hired the shooter, and this has nothing to do with Miller. Or it could be a boyfriend, like Annie said. This Chuck character came
across as a jealous lover, at least to her.”
“You want to rule out my personal life, that’s procedure, but you’re way off base there. Only one thing shares my bed right now—my Glock .40. I keep it under my pillow.”
“I’m not passing judgment on you or your lifestyle, Paul. I’m just trying to find answers.”
“I know. I would have asked you the same question if our positions had been reversed,” he said, meaning it. “But I’m telling you, you’re looking in the wrong direction.” After a beat, he added, “I’m not convincing you, am I?”
She didn’t answer. “Kendra, there’s something you need to know about me. It’s true that I enjoy the company of women. I’m a healthy, normal male, but you could count on one hand the number of serious relationships I’ve had.”
He noticed her raised eyebrow and tried not to smile.
“You think I’m snowing you, but it’s the truth.”
“Okay, so tell me this. Who was the last woman you were seriously involved with?”
“She’s not part of this, not anymore.”
“How can you be so sure?” she pressed.
He looked her straight in the eyes. “Because she’s dead. The last woman I really cared about was Judy.”
She nodded, finally understanding. “Your former partner.”
“Yeah.” He remained silent until they climbed back into his truck. “What she and I had was special, maybe even one of a kind.”
“I imagine you took some serious flak over that from your supervisory inspector,” she said.
He shook his head. “There was nothing for him to object to,” he said. “Judy and I were close, yeah, but neither of us ever took it to the next level. We knew our place.”
“Because you wanted to remain partners and that would have been a conflict?”
“Yes, exactly, but there was also more to it than that. Neither one of us was the kind who stepped into relationships easily. Judy had an ex-husband and a failed marriage in her history, and me, well, all I’d ever had was my foster family. She and I were a great team out in the field, but back then we were all about the job. Sure, our feelings for each other ran deep, but neither one of us was in a hurry to open the door to more.”