by David, Kori
She splayed her hands out with a little shrug, as if questioning the Universe about how this could be.
And then with a shake of her head she continued. “I met Abby about a year after I got to Nashville. She and I shared a tiny studio apartment and waitressed during the day for money.”
Her eyes took on a soft glow, and Shelby had ceased to be in the room with him. She was somewhere in the past, seeing her friend.
Shelby reached up and snagged one of her curls, pulling it down. Stretched out to full length it was long, reaching past her breasts. But when she let it go, it sprung back into place. A perfect corkscrew that only hung past her collarbone.
“We had the same hair, even though I was short and she was tall. It’s what made us instant friends. We could talk for hours about the problems of trying to straighten it, and what the humidity did to it. You know—girl stuff.”
“And Rebecca has the same hair.”
Shelby focused on him again and the nostalgic smile faded. “Same color, same texture. Abby could have been my older sister, we were that close.”
“How did you get a music contract?”
“Madge,” she said. “Her dad was a career Army Ranger, and she’d been all over the world by the time she was a teenager. She became a talent agent in her thirties and made a name for herself by the time she turned forty. She heard me singing one day on a street corner.”
“And signed you on the spot?”
Shelby chuckled. “Well, not on the spot. She took Abby and I under her wing, and a few weeks later, I was sitting with a professional voice coach singing scales, and Abby was enrolled in a cosmetology school, learning how to do hair and make-up. Madge says she just knew I would be someone special, and she knew I wasn’t leaving Abby behind.”
Mike was impressed. But then, Shelby had always been special. Whether she was on stage or sitting with no make-up in a padded lounge chair, she exuded charm. She’d been that way her entire life and, if he was honest with himself, he’d always known she needed to share that charisma with the world. He’d just thought he’d be with her when it happened. He gave himself a mental kick to stop the mopey thoughts. “What happened then?”
“I worked my ass off for a year before I got that first contract. My single came out, and six months later, my life was a rollercoaster ride.”
“And what happened to Abby?”
Shelby played with another curl. “She came with me. As my personal hair dresser and make-up artist. She was brilliant, and we were like kids playing dress up. All the gorgeous clothes and top-of-the-line cosmetics. The food was expensive and tasted better than anything either of us had ever experienced.”
“But?”
“But Abby was lonely.” Shelby let go of the curl and stood. She walked to the rail and leaned out.
For someone so famous, Mike thought Shelby was the lonely one. The way she held herself and the way she sank into the furniture, as if she were trying to disappear completely.
Shelby turned and crossed her arms. The night was still hot, but she rubbed goose bumps away as she stared back at him.
“I was always busy and didn’t notice it when she started disappearing at concerts, or during the tour. She got secretive, and that just wasn’t the girl I knew.”
“She started seeing someone?”
Shelby nodded. “Abby wouldn’t tell me who, but she seemed so happy, and I couldn’t blame her. I just didn’t have time for dating or anything besides my career and all the appearances and studio time. I barely had time to write my songs, and when I’d get off stage, I was dead to the world for the next twelve hours. I should have made more time for her. For us.”
“So it was easy for Abby to have a secret affair without anyone knowing.” Mike figured Abby enjoyed the secret, something to keep away from a friend that was having so much success. It was human nature to try and take something for herself.
“I think Madge knew there was a relationship, but even she didn’t know who it was, and we both worried about it. And then Abby started smiling less. Her fun, short, summer dresses turned into a long drab skirts, and she started jumping every time the door opened or closed.”
“Long sleeve shirts and heavy make-up as well?” He knew where this was going.
Again she nodded. “And stories about sudden clumsiness when she was one of the most graceful people I knew. I begged her to tell me who he was, because he had to be someone on the tour. But she wouldn’t. And by that time, she was pregnant.”
“Did he kill her?”
A tear slipped down her face as she flinched and took a small step back. “I honestly don’t know. She had Rebecca, and the secret meetings stopped. No more bruises, and she seemed so happy. That lasted for six years. Rebecca made Abby complete, and they made everyone smile just to see them together.” Shelby started to pace.
“Then one year ago, Abby left Rebecca with Madge, saying she had some errands to run. She never came back. I called the police, but they found no evidence of foul play. She simply disappeared, and they said it happens like that with some people. They just get up and leave their families and friends with no word. But they’re wrong. If they’d ever seen Abby with Rebecca, they would’ve known she’d never willingly leave her daughter. There’s just no way.”
“What happened then?”
“I hired a private investigator to look into her disappearance.” She hugged herself and turned back toward the mountain. “He couldn’t find anything either. Like a black hole, one day she was here, and the next day, she just ceased to exist.”
Mike could hear the frustration and hopelessness in her voice. “Did your manager run background checks on everyone connected to the tour?”
“Of course,” she said, turning back to face him again. “And nothing came up. No huge red flag with a previous assault or a history of being an abusive asshole around any of my people. But at the time, we were touring with a couple of other bands and were headquartered in Nashville. We didn’t have access to the names of everyone around, and then there was the possibility that the boyfriend was some local guy who followed the tour.”
“You get that often? Folks following the tour?”
“Oh yes, and most of the time they’re harmless. It’s not that cliché female rock groupie that you see in the movies either. I have everything from older couples to bikers and college kids following my concerts from state to state.”
“And no one stood out to either you or Madge?” Shelby’s face was a mask of misery.
“I was too busy to notice.”
Mike resisted the tug he felt. He refused to go and give her the comfort she so clearly needed. But denying himself was hard. Instead, he stayed in character and asked questions. From his seat. “Did you question Rebecca? Ask her if she’d seen anything or heard anything her mother said before she left?” A quiet sob escaped the woman standing so rigidly in front of him.
Another tear took the same path as the first one, and she crumbled.
Mike’s resolve left him in an instant, and he couldn’t keep away from her, from the heartbreak written all over her.
And then she was in his arms.
He swept her up and carried her back inside. Her whole body shook, but she stayed quiet, holding in the tears and trying not to touch him, even though her body was plastered against his. He carried her to her bed and sat with her still in his lap. Just like he’d wanted to do earlier. “I’m sorry about your friend, Shelby.”
She took a deep shuddering breath. “I just wish I knew what happened. For myself and for Rebecca.” She pulled away to look into his eyes, not even seeming to realize she was in his lap. “That little girl hasn’t spoken a word since I had to sit her down and tell her that her mom was missing. In every way except blood, she’s like my own daughter. She even used to call me Mama Two,” she said, holding up two fingers. “Not until she was about three did I started having her call me Aunt Shelby. Abby deserved to be the only one being called Mom.”
“And kn
owing for sure that she’s dead will help you both?”
Shelby jerked out of his arms and almost jumped off his lap in a violent objection to his words.
Not that he’d said them harshly, but just saying the word out loud was enough. She’d used the words missing and disappeared, but she was hiding from the truth. Her friend was likely dead.
“What I feel doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is helping Rebecca. I helped raise her, and I love her almost as much as Abby does. I have to keep her safe, and we have to know what happened.”
Does, not did. Stubborn to the end. But she had changed. She’d grown up while she’d been off getting rich and famous. That she valued someone other than herself was clear. Her feelings showed in the way she talked about her friend, the sincere regret that she didn’t make time for her. And in the love shining through her eyes when she talked about Rebecca. Even Madge had a piece of her heart.
“Then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to either of you,” he said. And he meant it. Nothing and no one would hurt a little girl who was mute in her sorrow over her missing mother. “Just realize that you may never know what happened to Abby. And that’s something you’ll have to face sooner or later. For both your sakes.”
“I’m sorry about all of this, Mike.”
He shrugged. “I’d do it for any of my friends.” Shelby looked like she wanted to say something but he got a text just then. He read it quickly and felt a leap of excitement. Daniel might have found the crime scene. Finally, something useful to do. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll be in touch. And if this bastard contacts you again, then call me immediately.”
He waited until she nodded and then he left. It was a cowardly thing to do, running off to a crime scene when she’d opened up the way she had, but leaving was self-preservation. Shelby was the one chink in his carefully-built armored life. He couldn’t afford to again get sucked into that particular whirlpool of emotion.
But he could solve this case. And then she could take off again. Because that’s what she was good at.
Chapter 6
As he approached the warehouse, Daniel cut his lights. His police cruiser was one of the older Chevy Caprices, so it was low to the ground and heavy. All the police emblems had been removed so that it was considered “undercover.” But the searchlight mounted on the driver’s side door and more than one antenna on the roof made a mockery of the term.
He circled the block slowly. The engine purred quietly, making his approach as soundless as it could be. Nothing moved in the pre-dawn hours. Even the homeless didn’t come down here at night. Between the rats and the isolation, the location wasn’t ideal if one wanted to stay safe. There was no way the suspect was still there, but Daniel wasn’t one to rush into something.
Not after that rookie move had gotten him shot.
Thank God, he’d had his vest on at the time, but it hadn’t been one of his finer moments. And it had made him look like a fool in front of the very beautiful woman he was trying to save, not to mention her giant boyfriend. Now husband.
Pulling back around to the front of the building, he parked so he could see the doors as well as the street. Mike was on his way now, and Daniel was glad. They didn’t want patrol fucking up the crime scene if this was really the building. If it wasn’t, then they didn’t want to pull resources from the street on a hunch. It was a gut call, but he’d made it and Mike would back him up.
He sat for about twenty minutes before he saw headlights headed his way. He ducked down slightly, making himself less visible, in case the driver wasn’t Mike. But the lights cut out about the place Daniel had cut his, and the big truck pulled up and stopped about twenty feet from his spot.
He grabbed his Mag light and keys and stepped out of his vehicle.
Mike did the same, unfolding his large frame from the seat, light in hand.
Daniel knew Mike’s friends called him ‘Little’ Mike, but the guys on the department called him Tank. Not to his face, only when they talked about him. And he was. The man was made of muscle.
“What do we have?”
“A good gut feeling,” Daniel answered.
Mike looked around and then back. “You’ve checked out the perimeter?”
“I have. Nothing moving anywhere in about a block radius, and I waited approximately twenty minutes before you got here. I never heard a thing, and it’s so quiet here I’d have heard a rat fart.”
“Then let’s check out this theory of yours.”
“Jesus, I hope this is it. We need to find this vic,” Daniel said as he turned on his light. They neared the building on silent feet. Both used the light to sweep the ground in front of them, as well as the building.
“This is it,” Mike said.
They hadn’t made entry yet. “What makes you sure?”
“The smell.”
His tone was grim, and Daniel had to wonder if the man had super senses as well. Because he didn’t smell anything but dust and old diesel fumes. He inhaled as quietly as he could, but he still didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. So he shrugged and followed his boss to the door that, up close, was slightly ajar.
Mike pulled his gun out of his holster and Daniel followed suit, taking up a position behind his boss.
And then Mike opened the door.
The hinges should have made some kind of noise, as old as they were, but the door swung silently open. Mike was clearly thinking the same thing since he had his light shining on the jamb. He pointed.
Daniel could see a small dried pool of fluid, probably one of those spray lubricants, on the concrete stoop.
Without a word, they made entry.
And the smell hit Daniel. Just no mistaking the odor of a decomposing body. The metallic copper scent of blood hung heavily in the air as they swept the corner of the room. Daniel swallowed hard, attempting to ward off nausea. The room they were in was empty, but there was a door on Mike’s side.
In the semi dark, Mike’s serious face took on a sinister quality. Daniel was glad the big man was on his side, because he’d hate to go up against him. They were through the door into a maze of smaller rooms. Half-assed cubicles that were only partially dismantled. He could hear tiny rodent nails scraping across the floor, avoiding the light he swept through each area.
One more door in the back stood wide open and led into the large warehouse behind the offices. And there she was. Exactly as the video depicted.
“Good job, Daniel.”
“I’m just glad this wasn’t a colossal waste of time. We needed to find this scene.”
“And now we need to call in the troops. I want this kept as quiet as possible.”
Daniel nodded. “You think it was one of us? That news leak.”
“Hell no,” Mike said, walking slowly around the pool of shiny red liquid that coated the floor. “One of the rookies on patrol was probably thinking with his dick, and let slip the details of the scene to a reporter. Hope he got laid because if I find out who it was, he won’t ever be able to use it again.”
“I’ll go and make the call,” Daniel said. The job was his, but he couldn’t deny getting away from the overwhelming stench of the room was his goal as well. The sight of blood was fine, but the smell was something else.
He turned at the door to ask if Mike wanted anyone in particular to respond, but he stopped when he got a look at his face. The high windows let in the moonlight and partially lit the room. Mike stood at the edge of the pool of blood, staring down at the woman on the bed. Pure rage was written on his face, as if the woman was known personally, and he’d been unable to prevent her death. There was pain as well. But where that emotion came from, Daniel couldn’t fathom a guess.
Then Mike moved and his face was once again in shadow.
Turning from the sight, Daniel could feel the menace. All from his boss. He hurried from the room and pulled out his cell once he was free of the building. He dialed dispatch, thinking to himself that the man he’d just
left wasn’t a present-day homicide detective, but a throwback to another age where revenge and retribution was handled at a personal level.
Permanently.
Daniel would have to work harder to find this perpetrator, because if Mike found the killer first, there might not be anything left for the courts to prosecute.
***
That Casey Henderson was more excited about getting called to a crime scene than she’d been about the date she’d had that night was a sad state of affairs. And the fact she was still strapped into a tight leather dress with five-inch heels, adding much-needed height, wouldn’t stop her from heading straight to the scene. She carried a fairly large collection kit in her trunk, as well as an extra pair of her favored coveralls for work, just for these incidents.
There was nothing she could do about her favorite heels but try and not get blood on them. She’d have to remember to stash an extra pair of work boots in the trunk next time. And since this perp was the same sickie that set up the first scene, this one would more than likely be a doozy.
She parked her Charger on the street next to a big F-250, grabbed her camera from the case she carried and got out. She wanted to photograph the scene first before she had to suit up and take samples. And she hoped one of the on-duty guys for her office was already on the way, because she’d let her co-workers handle the heavy lifting.
Stepping carefully to avoid the cracked concrete, she picked her way through the overgrown weeds and glass that littered the sidewalk. She didn’t want to nose dive into the parking lot because one of her heels got stuck in a crack.
“I’m sorry, lady, but you can’t be here.”
Casey looked up to see a plain-clothed detective standing in her way about midway to the warehouse. “Excuse me?”
“This is a police matter. And we won’t allow the press inside. You should know that.”
His tone rankled, like he was talking to an errant child escaping from the romper room. Good thing she wasn’t armed because she might have shot him, just for the tone. Clearly, he was new.