“I’ve also been working twelve- and fifteen-hour days for two straight weeks.”
“Good grief. I didn’t realize it had been that bad. When do you get a break?” She almost didn’t want to tell him about the truck stop incident now. He would feel compelled to follow up.
“I don’t know. But let’s have dinner tonight. My treat.”
“I’d like that.” Rox hesitated. “Did you listen to your messages?”
“Only from my sergeant.”
“Then I have something that might make you change your mind about dinner.”
“More Sister Love crap?”
Rox bristled. “I’m going to tell you anyway.” She took a breath to calm herself. “I was working my case last night and followed the charity van to a truck stop just north of Salem. First, one of the girls was assaulted by a trucker; then my clients’ daughter was grabbed by someone in a trench coat wearing a ski mask. I interfered, and the assailant drove away, almost running me over. What if it was the I-5 Killer?”
“That’s crazy! Did he hurt you?”
“Nothing serious.” She kept her tone clipped, still a little upset with him.
“What are these girls involved in?”
Rox wondered that too. But it was beside the point. “Does the trench coat and ski mask fit the killer’s profile at all?”
“We’ve never had an eyewitness describe him.” A long pause.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“I just found out, and it isn’t something I should share.”
“Is this about Sister Love? I need all the information I can get.” She didn’t remind him that he’d already given her confidential information.
“Without going into detail . . .” He trailed off, then said softly, “Bethany withdrew a couple thousand from her trust account every month in cash.”
No surprise. “I think Blackstone is selective about who he recruits. My clients have money too, and Blackstone has milked them for it.” Rox suddenly realized what Kyle was thinking. “The money creates a motive for Blackstone—if he has a way to access the trust.”
“Exactly.” She heard him clicking his keyboard for a moment, then he added, “But we’ll look at last night’s incident. Tell me everything you noticed about the assailant, including the make of the vehicle.”
“A little shorter than me, so maybe five-nine. Average-size body under the coat. The hood was up, and he had on a ski mask, so I don’t have much else for description. And it was dark.” Rox tried to visualize the vehicle that had almost hit her, but she’d been distracted at the time with trying to save her own life. “I’m not sure about the car. Something smaller and boxier than the family cars everyone is making now. So it was probably at least ten or twelve years old. And not a light color either—something mid-range.”
“That’s semi-helpful.” His tone was slightly mocking.
“Hey, it was dark and he tried to run me over. I wasn’t processing details.”
“Fair enough.”
Her worry finally all came together in a coherent thought. “If the I-5 Killer murdered Bethany and came after Emma, he might be targeting the Sister Love girls. I think you guys should start watching the truck stops where they solicit donations.” That would effectively stop her from questioning the cult members in that crew. But their safety came first. That was the whole point of her case.
“Do you think Blackstone is the serial killer?”
She’d considered it. “I don’t know. I’m not sure he fits the typical profile.”
“Me neither, but I’ll update the team and see what our profiler thinks.”
“Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
“Maybe. I’ll be in touch.”
“See you later.”
“Rox, be careful, please.”
“I will.” Rox hung up, glad he hadn’t asked about her case or what she had planned. Not that she would tell him—for his own sake.
A moment later, Marty knocked and came through her door without waiting for her to respond. “I found the nursing home and learned that Arthur Blackstone has dementia.” He was clearly excited. “If we can get the old guy to call his son and sound troubled enough to lure him out, I think we could take another run at the cult today.”
She jumped up at the thought. “Are we ready? What if Margo is there?”
“We’ll deal with it. She might be as passive as the other followers.” Marty paced the room. “I think the longer we wait, the more guarded Blackstone will be.” He glanced at Rox with a worried expression. “After what happened last night, I think Emma is in serious danger. We have to get her out today.”
Her conversation with Kyle was fresh in Rox’s mind. “I just learned that Bethany had monthly access to cash, so now Kyle is looking at Blackstone as a suspect in her murder. Another reason to move in before Blackstone walls off himself and the girls.”
Marty stopped in front of where she stood. “Maybe you should go to the nursing home and let me handle the extraction.”
She knew he was worried about weapons. “I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “If anything happens, it’s better that I take the hit, either physically or legally.”
“This is my business.” She grinned to take the sting out of her words. “You work for me as a contractor.”
“That’s bullshit.” He laughed. “None of that matters. We actually need both of us to go in.”
“Agreed. But how—” Rox stopped. They had one other option. “I’ll call Greg Loffland and see if he’ll help us again. He might even know Blackstone’s father better than he indicated.”
Marty looked skeptical. “Do you trust him? Especially after yesterday?”
“I think so.” She moved toward her phone. “I’ll meet him at the nursing home and coach him on the call. Then he’ll need to give me twenty minutes to drive like hell to the work camp. This time, you’ll be waiting and watching for Blackstone to leave.”
“This could work.” Marty bounced on his feet, a sign of nervousness she hadn’t seen in a while.
“If Loffland is available. And willing. And doesn’t screw us over.” Rox shrugged, put her phone on speaker, and made the call.
Loffland answered. “Karina?”
“Yes. We think our client is in danger, and we want to try again today to extract her. Will you help?”
“I’m kind of busy with paperwork this morning, and I have to show a house this afternoon. Can it wait until tomorrow morning?”
“No. The police think Blackstone might have murdered Bethany Grant, one of his members.”
“Why would he do that?” A deadpan tone.
“Because she had money, and he wanted it.”
“He is in financial trouble.” A brief pause. “But I don’t see him as a killer.”
She disagreed. “Even so, he’s abusive, and we’re all concerned.” Rox knew she should call and update the Carsons, but she didn’t want to mention the attack at the truck stop. It would just worry them more. She wanted to wait until she had Emma in her car and good news to report. She realized Greg needed motivation. “I’ll pay you for your time. I sometimes hire outside help anyway.”
“How much?”
“For an hour? Three hundred dollars.”
“Not worth it.”
“Come on. Young girls are being physically and sexually abused. We need to get our client out, get her deprogrammed, and help her file charges.”
A long hesitation this time. “I want a thousand bucks. I have some financial needs of my own.”
Rox looked at Marty. He nodded, and she knew he would say to take it out of his pay. They both knew she wouldn’t.
“Okay. I’ll give you a grand. Meet me at the Linnwood Care Facility in Clackamas in half an hour.”
Another hesitation. “What’s the plan?”
“You have to get Blackstone’s senile father to call his son and ask him to come to the nursing home.”
“How the hell am
I supposed to pull that off?”
“I have some ideas.” For a thousand bucks, Loffland needed a better attitude. “Do you know Arthur Blackstone?”
“No.”
“You served with his son, so wear your uniform. He’ll respect you and do whatever you ask him to.”
“What if Deacon doesn’t fall for it?”
“Call him and be insistent. You tried to meet with Blackstone yesterday; try again.” A few things suddenly clicked for her. “I suspect you have your own agenda with Blackstone. Work that angle if you have to. Just get him the hell out of the work camp for a while.”
“I need a little more time. I can meet you in an hour.”
Rox decided to give him some extra motivation. If he failed his mission, he wouldn’t get full pay. That’s how her fee was set up. But for now all she said was, “For a thousand bucks, you’d better come through.”
CHAPTER 26
Rox paced in front of the nursing home, watching a transport-van driver load an elderly woman into a wheelchair. The hydraulic lift was slow, but it got the job done. The thought of being confined to a wheelchair made her shudder. But she refused to think about getting old. She caught her reflection in the window. She’d picked up some blue scrubs like the Sister Love clan wore—hoping it would make Emma trust her—and put on the blonde wig again, because that’s what Loffland was expecting. A Nurse Jackie effect.
Where the hell was Loffland? One hour and sixteen minutes had passed since their phone conversation. Was he blowing her off? She started to doubt whether she could trust him. Military buddies were usually loyal to each other for life. But Loffland had an attitude about Blackstone—
A truck pulled into the lot, and she stared at the driver. Yes! That was the shaved-head man she’d met at the tavern. Rox relaxed and leaned against the wall in the covered entry area, reflexively touching the shoulder bag where she’d tucked the cash.
As he approached, she took the offensive. “You’re late.”
“I told you I needed an hour.” He gave her a dirty look. “Who cares? I’m here.”
Yes, and it was time to get on with it. “I called, and Arthur Blackstone is accessible to visitors now. But you’ll have to check in with the front desk.”
“Show me the cash.”
She’d expected that and pulled out both bundles. “I’ll give you the three hundred up front. But you have to earn the rest.” She displayed the big payment and handed him the smaller packet.
He shoved it into his jacket pocket. “As soon as Deacon leaves the property, I want the rest.”
Not possible. “I can’t waste any of our access time backtracking to pay you. But as soon as I have the girl and we’re free of the complex, I’ll call you with a time and place to meet.”
His eyes narrowed while he considered it. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
“What are you going to say?”
“Just let me handle it.”
Why couldn’t he tell her? “I want to know.”
He gave her another look that she guessed was supposed to be intimidating. “I’ve known Deacon Blackstone for ten years, but I don’t know his father or how far gone he is. I may have to play this by ear. It could take some time. But Deacon loves his dad, and I will get him here.”
She hated not being in control of this element, but her only other choice was to go in with him, and that might be overwhelming to the old man and make the objective harder. By leaving now, she could be in position for the extraction early. Rox gave him a thumbs-up. “A dozen young girls will benefit from this, so go. And call me as soon as you have an update.”
Loffland walked away, pressed the security buzzer, and entered the nursing home. She waited until she saw the receptionist leading him down a hallway, then hurried to her car. Now that things were finally in motion, she had to call the Carsons again. They had been devastated when yesterday didn’t work out. Jenny didn’t answer, so Rox left a brief message. “Karina here. We’re trying again soon. Be ready.” She started her vehicle and accelerated out of the parking lot.
Even though she had more time to reach the work camp than she’d originally planned, she still pushed the speed limit and got to the rendezvous spot in twenty minutes. Marty waited in his sedan next to the big fir tree, looking surprised to see her. Rox switched cars, talking as she climbed in. “I left Loffland on his own, but I think he’ll come through.”
“Or we could be sitting here all day for no reason.”
“That’s the nature of this business.”
“But you trust Loffland.” Half statement, half question.
“Sort of.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure we have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.” Marty switched to his wise-cop voice. “We can walk away from this if anything seems hinky.”
“Of course, but let’s try to plan.”
“Right.” Marty turned in his seat to face her. “We go in with one car, correct? So as we exit, I drive and you control the girl.”
“Yes, and we take her straight to her parents. We’ll pick up my car later.”
“Are the Carsons ready?”
“I hope so. They’ve been on standby since yesterday.”
“Are they taking her to a treatment center?”
“No, they’ve hired a deprogrammer who will come to them. That way Emma can stay in her own home and feel comfortable—while still getting the same level of treatment.”
“That has to be quite spendy.”
“She’s lucky. Their money probably kept her out of jail for manslaughter too.”
“I’ll bet the parents of the dead girl sued them for a chunk of it.”
“They never mentioned it.” Rox’s phone rang, and she snatched it up. Greg Loffland. “What’s the update?”
“I convinced the old man he was being mistreated, and he called Deacon to report it. He should be on his way to give the staff hell.”
Yes! “Thank you. I’ll call in a few hours about the rest of your payment.” Rox hung up before he could make any demands. She turned to Marty. “We should see Blackstone leave any moment.”
“Great. Which strategy will you use?”
“I plan to keep it simple. Emma’s mother is sick and needs to see her daughter.”
“Take your Glock.” He’d said it a few times already that morning.
“No. I’m not shooting anyone, and neither are you. But if I’m not out in ten minutes, you come in.”
“I’d rather go in with you.”
They’d already had this conversation as well. “You’ll intimidate the girls, and I need you to watch for Blackstone.”
“I know.” Marty stiffened. “I’ll keep an eye out for Margo too. Her minivan is gone right now, so she could come home in the middle of all this.”
Rox couldn’t worry about Margo. They just had to go for it. An engine roared, and they both snapped their heads toward the complex. The Bronco threw gravel as it backed out and turned to the road.
“He looks pissed.” Rox laughed, but it made her nervous.
“As long as he stays away so we can get this done.”
“He will. I figure we’ve got at least forty-five minutes.”
Through the trees, they watched the Bronco fly down the highway. After a count of ten, Rox said, “Let’s do this.”
Marty drove forward and eased onto the road, turning in the opposite direction Blackstone had driven. “Good thing Margo’s not home. She might be suspicious of another medical emergency.” Marty’s voice was quiet and hurried, as though talking to himself.
He was nervous. She patted his arm. “This will work out. It’s just a few timid young girls in there.” But Rox had her own apprehensions. Even young women with low self-esteem could be taught to use weapons to defend what they’d been taught was their home and family.
They drove down the road a short ways, pulled into the gravel lot, and parked in front of the long concrete building. The little silver-blue car she’d seen once was the
only vehicle in the lot.
“Who drives that?” Marty asked, just as she wondered the same thing.
“It must be Ronnie’s, Margo’s daughter. I saw her with it at the soup kitchen.”
“Ready?”
She and Marty looked at each other for a long moment. They didn’t have to say anything. They loved each other and would do anything to protect the other.
As Rox stepped out, Marty mumbled, “Remind me to tell you something after this.”
She glanced back, surprised, but didn’t ask. Now was not the time to be distracted with his girlfriend news, or whatever it was. Rox hurried to the green door, mentally prepping for the role she had to play. Upset and worried didn’t come naturally to her. Could she pull this off? She pressed the buzzer and waited.
It took three minutes, but Ronnie finally came to the door. “What do you want?”
Rox hoped the young woman didn’t recognize her. She’d worn her hair in a bun, plus reading glasses, when they’d talked at the soup kitchen that second time. “I have to see Emma Carson. I’m her mother’s caregiver. Jenny Carson is deathly ill and needs her daughter.”
Ronnie pressed her lips together. “How did you find us?”
“Her mother hired somebody. She’s dying and desperate.” Rox moved forward, crowding into the homely woman’s personal space. “What’s your name?”
“Ronnie.” She stepped back, probably not even realizing she was doing it. “What’s yours?”
Rox realized she couldn’t use Karina Jones again. “Jolene.” She crossed the threshold. She was inside! “Where is Emma?”
Panic flashed in Ronnie’s eyes. “You shouldn’t be in here.” The woman tried to crowd her back out the still-open door, but Rox slipped around her and surveyed the room. They hadn’t done much with the lobby of the work camp, except to remove whatever reception counter might have existed. A couch and a few chairs lined the walls, but there was no TV, no magazines, and no young girls. The room branched off into main hallways going in both directions, with a door in the middle of the back wall. Was a communal living space beyond this room? Rox wanted to be smart about her search and keep her time in the complex to a minimum.
Guilt Game Page 18