Redeeming the Night

by Kristine Overbrook

  “Do you have any of her belongings that weren’t stored with the missing person’s file?”

  “No, but sometimes before the runaways leave, they pass on a belonging or two to their friends. You can talk to her roommates.”

  “Could we see her room as well, please?”

  Her brow furrowed a moment. “Of course.”

  Eric nodded. It was possible that the girl’s belongings could harbor the scent of her abductor. Hopefully another clue would follow.

  • • •

  Instinct had Ashley driving through the city. She had no real direction but she knew she needed to hide Nichole in a place that the sisterhood normally wouldn’t go. Finally, she saw a light that called her like a beacon. Then she felt a pleasant tug. She pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be a school. She parked directly behind a marked police car. Close to even inept police would still be safer than in the middle of nowhere.

  “I know this place,” Nichole said. “I was sent to live here after my parents died.”

  Perhaps Nichole would be safe here. At least for a while. “Maybe they have a position available. Didn’t you used to be a cook?”

  Nichole nodded. They entered the building and followed the long hallway. A few steps from the closed office door, Ashley wondered at the wisdom of seeking his company. “Maybe we should go.”

  The door opened. Voices crept through before anyone was visible.

  A squeal of delight sounded from Nichole just before she launched herself at the woman who stepped through the door. The woman endured the hug with a smile and patted Nichole’s blonde hair. “Dr. Callie.” Nichole squealed again.

  Eric’s gaze met Ashley’s. It felt like he almost smiled, though his expression remained stern. She’d resumed the form similar to the one she usually took, a heart-shaped face and blue eyes with golden blonde hair. He’d never seen this form before, but he knew her. She could tell that somehow he could see through her disguises.

  Once she had the excited woman at arm’s length, Dr. Callie recognized her former resident. “Nichole Braden. How are you? What brings you back here?” The old woman’s tired face came to life.

  “Looking for a job,” Ashley answered, gripping Nichole’s arm to silence her.

  “I might have something available.” Dr. Callie glanced at Ashley and returned her attention to Nichole. “I have to take these gentlemen to room 235.” She seemed distracted and much more interested in talking with Nichole than with anything the “gentlemen” were doing. “They are investigating a young woman who ran away. I have to show them to her former room.” She linked an arm through Nichole’s. “Walk with me and tell me what you are up to these days.”

  “Well, for one thing, Tarma got really mad at me.”

  “Who’s Tarma?”

  Ashley wanted to strangle Nichole. “Her boss. That’s why she needs work.”

  They started up the stairs with Dr. Callie asking about Nichole’s work experience. By now, Nichole had fortunately begun to catch on to watching what she said. So Ashley hung back and tried not to focus on the quizzical glances Eric sent her.

  The officer with him had been with him at the bar, too. Luckily, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He simply smiled and nodded. By the time they’d arrived at the room, Dr. Callie had found a position for Nichole working in the kitchen at the center.

  “All of the beds in this room are occupied. I’m not sure what you think you’ll be able to find. The girls who don’t have classes this hour are in the library, so you have time to look around,” Dr. Callie said. “Take as many pictures as you need, just please put everything back where you found it. The young ladies can be very particular about who touches their belongings.” To Nichole, she said, “Let’s go down to my office and get the forms.”

  Nichole slipped the onyx band from her finger and pressed it into Ashley’s hand. As she walked away she twiddled her bare fingers at her former mentor.

  The officer turned toward the open door then, as if having just noticed that she still stood there. “Can we help you, miss?” he asked.

  She didn’t know how to respond. She just looked at Eric.

  To Max, he said, “She’s a friend.” To her, he said, “I need to take care of this right now. Will you wait here?”

  She could only nod and lean against the hallway wall. They needed to talk. He had an idea of how she kept finding him, but this time he deserved an explanation or at least the semblance of one. She tapped a light rhythm on the wall behind her. That sort of conversation could get messy.

  • • •

  Eric forced his attention to the investigation. There would be time enough to deal with the woman waiting for him in the hallway later.

  Suzie used to live with two other girls. They each had a bed and a desk. Their dresser drawers were built into the bed frame under the mattress. Each bed had been neatly made, and there wasn’t a scrap of clothing on the floor. There must be rules against leaving an untidy area. From what Eric remembered of his own adolescence, most children weren’t neat unless coerced.

  Starting with the things to the right of the door, Eric opened the drawers of the desk just long enough for a sniff and then closed it.

  Max watched for a second and then cleared his throat. “You seem to have a method.”

  Moving to the drawers under the bed, Eric said, “Yup.”

  Max rocked to his toes and back again. “I’ll just take a peek in the closet.”

  “Fine.”

  His nose told him the floor was mopped and the bedding changed regularly. One girl had a stash of candy bars in the back of her desk. Another had a stash of pot under her mattress. He’d cleared most of the room when, finally, his nose caught a scent. He crossed the room to the closet and leaned against the frame. He asked, “Find anything?” before taking a whiff.

  Nothing.

  As if confirming Eric’s perception, Max grunted. “Nothing. Lots of shoes, just nothing useful.”

  The smell came from somewhere. He made to move back to where he’d left off and smelled it again. There, on the bed—under the covers—no—in a cigar box, tucked between the wall and the mattress. A rag doll in what appeared to be jeans and a black t-shirt.

  “Bingo.” He could smell the killer—faint, but there. Now if only there were a national scent registry, they’d be golden.

  Max stood from where he was replacing shoeboxes. “That looks familiar.” He dug gloves and an evidence bag from his pocket.

  “Suzie didn’t run away,” Eric said, holding the pillow up so Max could remove the doll.

  “But if she was abducted it was off the street. How did the doll get here?” Max placed the doll in the evidence bag and sealed it. Then he tucked his gloves back into his pocket.

  “Let’s ask Dr. Callie. We’ll need to interview the occupant of this bed.”

  As they left the room Eric told Max to go on ahead so he could hang back to talk to the gorgeous honeyed blonde who still waited for him in the hall.

  “One of these days I’m going to need to know what you really look like.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Yes.” He used to go for this type. Blonde and curvy. But more than her looks, which seemed to change from one hour to the next, her scent drove him wild. Floral and woody. Rich and scintillating. “Do you have a car?”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Yes, but—”

  He continued without giving her a chance to tell him why it wouldn’t work out. “I have a few more things to do here. If you could wait for me, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

  “I—we—” she floundered.

  “Good.”

  He descended the staircase quickly. She was the one that kept finding him. She was the one that first said they needed to talk. She could wait.

  Dr. Callie was already talking to Max when Eric entered the room. “Rachael brought it back from school one day. She said something about it being wha
t Suzie left behind. I thought it was something Suzie gave to Rachael when she decided to leave.”

  “Had you ever seen Suzie with the doll before?” Eric asked.

  “I don’t think so. Honestly, I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “We know,” Max said as he tapped the end of his pen against his jaw. “Is there a way you could call Rachael in here so we can ask her a few questions?”

  “I’ll need to be present during questioning,” Dr. Callie said as she dialed an extension.

  “Of course.” Max notated that Dr. Callie would serve as Rachael’s guardian ad litem.

  Within minutes, a young lady about fifteen entered Dr. Callie’s office and sat. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that reached her shoulders. Wisps of stray hair had pulled free and wandered across her face. Saucers of blue stared at the three adults and waited. This young lady knew from a young age to only answer the most direct questions.

  Max took the lead. Pulling the bagged doll from his pocket he placed it on the desk in front of the girl. She reached a hand toward it, then thought twice, and clasped her hands together on her lap. “What can you tell me about this doll?” Max asked.

  “It’s mine,” she said, her fingers flexed.

  “Where did you get it?” he asked, keeping his voice light.

  “Suzie left it for me.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because it was dressed just like her, and she left it in our spot.”

  “Your spot?”

  “You know, where we stood while we waited for the bus.” Everyone nodded. “I stopped to talk to Mickey Marino.” She glanced at Dr. Callie. “He’s really nice, but he was out of school ’cause of the flu or something so he was asking me about homework.”

  Dr. Callie nodded and motioned for the girl to continue.

  “Suzie said she would meet me at our spot. Mickey and I walked slow ’cause I was showing him something in the book or something and when we turned the corner, she wasn’t there. I thought she might have sat back in the bushes. We did that sometimes, too. Ya know, out of the sun. She wasn’t back there, but this doll was. It was dressed just like her. She was always talking about running away to Hollywood. She kept saying about how it was so close and all she had to do was hitch a ride. I figured she stopped talking about it and just decided to go.”

  “Without saying goodbye to her best friend?” Eric asked.

  “That’s what the doll was, her way of saying goodbye.” Again, she reached for it and stopped herself. “Why is it in the bag? Can I have it back?”

  The doll was six months old. The scent of the kidnapper was there, but to anyone else it was doubtful there would be anything of use there at all. And Rachael believed it was the only thing she had of her lost friend.

  “We have to keep it for just a little while. But when we are done we’ll make sure you get it back,” Eric said.

  “Soon?” she asked.

  Max crouched beside the girl’s chair. “It may take a while. But as soon as we can.”

  She crossed her arms. “Don’t forget.”

  “I’ll bet Dr. Callie will make sure we don’t forget,” Eric said, winking at Rachael.

  The girl sat straighter now and smiled so the stray lock of hair swung away from her face. “Oh, no. She remembers everything.”

  The principal smiled. “I’ll make sure to keep checking with them until they are done with it.”

  Max stood, and both men shook Dr. Callie’s hand. “I think we have all we need. My number is on the receipt for the doll.”

  They exited the building.

  “So, he’s not just a kidnapper,” Eric murmured. The feds would be involved for sure. They were always notified for missing children but didn’t always take an active role. Now that the kidnapper had graduated to murderer, they would be all over this. Eric would have to function in front of them. Explain himself. His stomach knotted.

  “I’ll take this to the lab and see what they can get off of it after all this time.” Max cleared his throat and opened his car door. “You go ahead and take care of your business.”

  Eric had been following Max to his car without thinking. But when the officer cleared his throat Eric looked up to see Ashley leaning against her SUV, watching him. “Right,” he said to Max and simply stood still till the officer drove away, leaving him alone with Ashley.

  “Where do you want to go for lunch?” she asked.

  His mind, still concerned with the upcoming federal investigation, didn’t quite register what she said. “What?”

  “Food.” She spoke slowly. “Eat. Talk. You buy.”

  That’s right. “Our third date. We could always go back to my hotel and order room service.” The flirtation came unbidden. If she took him up on it what else might he do without thinking? Still, the entertainment of verbally fencing with this enigma of a woman began to ease the queasiness.

  She grunted. “A restaurant.” A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll pick.”

  Chapter 11

  Sitar music and the unmistakable scent of curry spiced the air. Once they were seated in the dimly lit Indian restaurant decorated in dark maroon and gold she began to relax somewhat. A small buffet had been set up in the corner near the kitchen, but Ashley had ordered for them.

  From her studies of the sisterhood’s library over the years she knew the symbols on each table were meant to encourage harmony. She also knew the symbols over the door were an ancient spell to keep away evil spirits. The sisterhood learned these so they wouldn’t hunt in places with these marks. They said it was because there was no prey, but now she wasn’t so sure. She had no idea what would happen if she did, but she knew no one from the sisterhood would attempt to follow her here.

  Eric hadn’t seemed himself when he came out of the center. But as they drove, he seemed to shake off the burden that weighed on him. Now, as he sat across from her, he cocked his head and smiled. “Did you want to start the conversation? You’re the one who said we needed to talk.”

  “You know I’m not who I appear to be.” She hesitated; how could you tell someone that fairy tales are true? That not everyone is human?

  “I can tell that you’re you no matter whose face you wear.” He sipped his water.

  “You know I can—?” She fell silent as the waiter delivered their food.

  Coconut curry lamb and what Ashley only knew as butter chicken. Next came a big bowl of jasmine rice and a plate of naan bread. The waiter refilled their water and then took a closer look at Eric.

  Realizing he was the subject of scrutiny, Eric smiled at the waiter. The man whispered something in another language and leaned closer. They were nearly ear to ear before Eric’s eyebrows rose and he leaned back. Now it was the waiter’s turn to smile. He placed a card on the table next to Eric’s plate. To Ashley, he nodded. “Please enjoy.”

  Eric tucked the card in his pocket, glancing over his shoulder at the retreating waiter, and chuckled. When he caught Ashley’s gaze, he shrugged. “Extremely distant relation.”

  He scooped food from the plates in the center of the table onto his own and tasted. “This is very good. I haven’t tried Indian food before. I like it.”

  She watched him eat, then served herself. She really hadn’t thought this through. The place was safe enough, but there were people around. The entire staff of the restaurant seemed to be taking turns gazing their way. For some reason, they’d become far less anonymous. Anyone could overhear. “Perhaps we should talk somewhere more private.”

  He grunted. “I’m comfortable here, but if you need somewhere private there’s always my hotel room.”

  “That sounds good.”

  That broke his concentration on his food. “Really?”

  Why did he sound nervous? “Don’t worry, we can finish lunch first,” she teased.

  He watched her for a moment. She tried to eat without self-consciousness, and failed. When she returned his gaze, he asked, “Who was the girl with you
earlier?”

  Lucky for her, she’d been thinking about how to describe the situation in real-world vernacular since she first ran into him that afternoon. “Something of a coworker. A trainee. Turns out she isn’t really right for the job. Got into some trouble with our boss and was about to be fired. It seems as though she’ll be able to get a fresh start at the center.”

  “Good. Where do you work?” he asked.

  “That’s a subject better left for later.” She spooned a little more rice onto her plate.

  “How long have you worked there?”

  “Yeah, that should wait for later, too.” She dipped a piece of naan into the sauce on her plate and bit into it.

  “Is there anything you can tell me that doesn’t have to wait till later? Family? Hobbies?”

  She thought a moment. She had no other family besides the sisterhood. Now she didn’t even have that. Her own parents died early, though she would have outlived them anyway. Images of her childhood seemed to waft from some ethereal plane. She and her mother wearing aprons and carefully pouring something into a pan. Laughter like angels singing. Sweet bread fresh from the oven smeared with jam they’d put away the year before.

  Tears welled. She hadn’t thought of her mother in decades. “Baking.” She sniffed. “I like to bake.”

  “It doesn’t look like you like it.”

  “My mother and I used to bake together before she died.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” He reached for her hand.

  “It was a long time ago.” She dabbed at her eyes and sipped her water. “I guess I’ve been too focused at work to think about much else. I haven’t baked since she died. I do read a lot, though.”

  “I like to read almost everything. I’ve even read a romance or two. What do you like to read?”

  “Cookbooks. Nonfiction … ” Mostly stuff in the sisterhood library. Now that she thought about it, she realized that it was mostly feminist occult type stuff. She coughed.

  “No, that’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “It looks like I’ve eaten the lion’s share. Go ahead and finish yours. I’ll be right back.”