All of that was true. Rose looked concerned, but she also wanted to protect her young charge.
“What do you think Marie can help you with?”
“Warden Pine indicated that Elise and Marie were close while they shared a room. We don’t think that Marie is involved in any way, but we’re hoping that Elise might have shared information with her. Any information can help. We’re on a clock, and fear for our agent’s life.”
Rose looked from Aggie to Nate, then settled on Aggie. “I’ll let you speak with her, provided that I am present, though this is unusual. Usually when law enforcement wants to talk to one of our students they request an interview and we schedule it.”
“I would have gone through proper channels except that this is extremely time sensitive because a federal agent’s life is in immediate danger.”
“All right. And Agent Dunning I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I would appreciate if you could wait out here. Marie has been sexually and physically abused for most of her life and your presence would unduly intimidate her. Not just Marie, but several of the girls here have been sexually abused, and this is a safe place for them. For some, the only safe home they have ever known. We don’t allow men inside.”
“No offense taken, ma’am, I will wait out here.”
“Thank you.”
Rose led Aggie inside.
The house smelled of stew and cinnamon and Aggie smiled. “Are you making apple pie?”
“Two of our girls love baking. We encourage them to pursue what interests them. But the stew is my mother’s recipe. Feeding a house of fourteen isn’t easy, but I have nine brothers and sisters, so I have a handle on the kitchen.”
“The warden sang your praises,” Aggie said.
“Kathy is one of the reasons we’re successful. She finds us the girls who need us the most. Marie was one. She’s been here for three months, and already I see how much she has improved.”
They walked to the back of the house, where a small room had been converted to an office. “Please wait here.”
A moment later, Rose returned with a tall, underweight girl with very short hair and big brown eyes. “Marie, this is Agent Jensen with the DEA. She has some questions for you about one of your roommates at juvenile detention. You are not in any trouble, and I’m going to stay with you, okay?”
Marie nodded and smiled, revealing two deep dimples. “I’m okay, Mrs. H. I promise. I know I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Good. Agent?”
Rose and Marie sat down and Aggie said, “You can call me Aggie, okay? Do you remember Elise Hunt? She also went by Elise Hansen.”
Marie nodded. “She came in a few weeks after me. She was nice to me. Not everyone is nice.”
Aggie shared with Marie what she’d told Rose about Elise’s background and why they were concerned. “Did Elise share with you what she planned to do when she was released? Did she share any anger or resentment she had toward law enforcement?”
Marie frowned.
“It’s okay,” Rose said as she rested her hand on Marie’s arm. “Whatever you know might help.”
“Elise was good to me. I got picked on a lot—lots of reasons, stupid, mostly, but Elise defended me, and she didn’t have to. And she didn’t expect anything from me, so I’ll admit I feel a little like I’m betraying her by talking to you. I want to do the right thing, but she never told me that she was going to commit a crime or anything like that.”
“I appreciate the fact that she helped you,” Aggie said. “And if we could have found Elise this week we’d never have come here to talk to you. But we can’t find her, and prior to her incarceration, she threatened specific people. So we’re a little worried that we don’t know what she’s up to.”
Marie looked at her hands, then looked at Rose. “She was very nice to me—stood up for me, but…”
“Go on,” Rose pushed gently. “This is a safe space, you know that.”
Marie nodded. “There was a girl who really picked on me—I don’t know why, I don’t know what I did, what I said, but Danielle hated me from day one. She’d push me, she’d take my food, say … well, they’re just words. Just really mean words. But Elise … I don’t know for certain, because I didn’t witness it. I didn’t lie to the warden when she asked me, I really didn’t see it. But I knew it was Elise.”
“Knew what?”
“One night Elise snuck out of our room. She had a way of getting wherever she wanted, I don’t even know how. I even think she left the grounds sometimes, but she always returned before anyone knew. Well, that night I woke up when she came in. I asked her where she’d been, said that she was going to get in trouble. She said she was too good to get in trouble, but Danielle wouldn’t be a problem anymore. The next day, Danielle wasn’t there. But this is juvie, rumors spread faster than anything. And word was that Danielle attacked a guard, nearly killed him, and was being transferred to a psychiatric prison for evaluation. I don’t know what happened, if Danielle did it or Elise or what, but Elise had that cat got the canary look, you know?”
Aggie knew. “Did Elise talk to you about what she planned to do when she got out?”
“No. Not really. Well—she talked about seeing her dad again. I asked why he didn’t visit, and she said he was out of state. But they had plans to start a business together. That’s what I took from the conversations, I don’t remember the details.”
Aggie didn’t tell Marie that Elise’s father was in prison.
“We know she didn’t have any visitors during her two years in detention. Did she ever ask you to deliver a message to anyone? Mail a letter?”
“No.”
“I know I asked you this, but did she talk about any of the agents involved in her arrest? In her sister’s death?”
“She didn’t really talk about anything personal, other than her dad. And she missed her brother. She said he was murdered. Oh. And she talked about a psychic a lot.”
“A psychic? Like someone who knows the future?”
“Yeah. She talked about this psychic named Lucy. I thought, maybe, she kind of had a crush on her, like this Lucy knew everything and Elise was amazed. But then I got the feeling she didn’t like her at all. I don’t know, that doesn’t make sense. I’m trying to be helpful, really. I want to do the right thing.”
It was helpful, though odd, and Aggie didn’t know what to make of it. “You are doing the right thing, Marie.” She looked at her notes, what Lucy had told her to ask.
“Did Elise talk to you at all about your family?”
Marie frowned, looked back at her hands. “Do I have to talk about my family?”
“No,” Rose said and gave Aggie a look that would have made her feel guilty if it came from her mom.
Aggie cleared her throat, asked again. “I mean, we know your brother was part of the Saints gang. We have reason to believe that Elise might have reached out to someone in the Saints, and because of your association, I thought maybe you hooked her up with someone.”
Marie shook her head. “I have nothing to do with that gang, with any gang. Ever. I didn’t want to do what I did, I didn’t have a choice!”
“I’m not here to get you in trouble.”
“I don’t think you understand what they do, how they hurt people, hurt me, made me do things … the police don’t even understand, as if I had a choice! No one has a choice, not when you have nothing and no one to help.”
“I don’t blame you for anything you did, and I’m so glad you have a place like this to help you find your path. But honestly, Elise isn’t like you. She’s not like the girls here. I think she used you, and if it wasn’t for your help, it was for information. Do you know Mitts Vasquez?”
By her expression, she did. “Why?”
“Because he’s wanted for questioning, and it’s possible Elise hired him to commit a crime.”
“Elise? Mitts wouldn’t work for a girl. He’s … well, he thinks we’re all stupid and only good for sex.”
“You know him.”
She nodded. “I haven’t seen him in years. He ran with my oldest brother—my brother is dead because of people like Mitts. Not that my brother was a good person, but … well … he protected me, too, when I was little.”
Suddenly, Marie straightened. “Oh my God. It … I didn’t really think about it, but … Elise once said she’d met my brother. He’d gone to prison the year before I was put in detention. I guess I reacted weird. I love my brother … but I hate him, too. That sounds bad.”
“It doesn’t,” Aggie said. “He’s your brother. You love him. He does bad things, which you hate. I get it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. And Elise backtracked, and we started talking … she asked questions, and I guess I needed to talk to someone. I told her everything, about how I got into detention, all about my brothers, and she kept asking questions. Like she was interested in everything I had to say, like she was interested in me. And I was talking because I never talked about this before, and … well, I think I told her about Mitts. That he was the last of the old-time Saints. So many of my brother’s friends were killed. Drugs—God, I hate drugs. They ruined my family, my parents—my mom’s a total addict. It’s why she’s in prison, but I don’t think she’ll ever stop. Well, Elise listened and said the right things. I told her everything. I didn’t realize … maybe she was pumping me for information. I don’t even remember everything I told her, but I just felt like someone understood what I’d gone through and how conflicted I was about my life and family.”
“Do you know where Mitts would go if he wanted to hide? Not from the police, but from a rival gang?”
She bit her lip. “I really don’t. But there was this woman—an old woman, mean as anything, who kind of took the Saints in if they needed it. My brother used to say she was their alibi whenever they needed one.”
“Do you know her name? Where she lives?”
Marie shook her head. “They called her Aunt Rita, but I don’t know if that’s her name or if she’s still alive. The rumor was that the police killed her husband in a shoot-out and she hates cops, but that’s all I know.”
“That’s more than I knew coming in here,” Aggie said. “Thank you, Marie. I really appreciate your help. If Elise contacts you in any way, let me know.” She handed cards to both Marie and Rose. “But don’t engage with her. She’s unpredictable and dangerous, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lucy had Erica Anderson’s last known address, a small house near the Air Force base. Garrett drove while she read everything she could find on the corrections officer—which wasn’t much. She had a solid fifteen-year record in corrections. Prior to that, she’d been in a variety of jobs. Divorced, two kids. Her ex-husband, Bill, lived only a few miles from Erica. He was an electrician and co-owned a business with his brother.
It was after six on a Friday night, so Lucy expected Erica to be home. She wasn’t. The house was dark and there was no sign that anyone was inside.
Lucy convinced Garrett to stay in the car and she went to the neighbor’s house—a large house with a well-kept lawn and dozens of kids’ toys—bikes, trikes, scooters—out front. A dog barked before she even rang the bell.
She learned from the neighbors that Erica was rarely home; they didn’t know where she was working and since she quit the corrections department, she’d been aloof and antisocial. But Lucy did get the address of Erica’s ex-husband, which the family had in case of emergencies.
She went back to talk to Garrett, gave him the address, told him about Erica’s change of behavior.
“You want to talk to the husband?” Garrett asked.
“Yes. According to the neighbors, they had an amicable divorce, were friendly, and until she quit the kids were here nearly every weekend. Since then, the family hasn’t seen the kids more than once. They tried talking to her a few weeks ago and Erica brushed them off, said she was working a private gig.”
“Which is probably true.”
“Then the husband will know how we can find her, right?”
Garrett drove off without comment.
The private sector often paid more than law enforcement, though law enforcement had perks like retirement and generally good health benefits. Also, Erica had more than ten years in service, so would be vested—leaving when she did seemed odd. Law enforcement was stressful, but there was nothing in her record that said she’d had any problems until three months ago when she quit without notice.
Maybe there was nothing going on with her. Maybe it was personal. Maybe it had nothing to do with Elise Hunt.
Or maybe your instincts are right on the money.
Garrett pulled up in front of Bill Anderson’s house less than ten minutes later. He lived three miles from his ex-wife, down the street from a middle school in a house that was distinguished from its neighbors by a huge tree in the front yard. The roots must be deep otherwise a big storm would put that tree right across the roof of the single-story house.
The neighborhood was a typical middle-class San Antonio neighborhood where kids played on the street and a baseball game was being played at the park on the corner. It reminded Lucy a lot of the neighborhood she grew up in. Modest homes in a clean, well-loved neighborhood.
Lucy began to doubt herself. Maybe she was on a wild goose chase. Even if Erica left because of a confrontation with Elise—if that’s what it was—would she know anything to help Lucy get Sean out of jail?
Her head ached. She hadn’t eaten since coffee and a bagel this morning before she left the house. When everything was normal, and Sean had kissed her good-bye.
She wanted that back.
“Do you want to join me?” she asked.
“I just want to remind you that if you learn something that is important to the investigation, you’ll need to tell the authorities.”
She didn’t comment. She got out and didn’t care if Garrett followed her; he did.
She knocked on the door. A moment later a tall, broad-shouldered man in a T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet answered. The amazing smell of some sort of pasta and tomatoes hit Lucy and her stomach growled.
“Mr. Anderson?”
“Yes.”
She showed her identification. “I’m looking for your ex-wife, Erica. She wasn’t at home and her neighbors said she hasn’t been home much since she quit. Her former employer—the warden, Kathy Pine—asked me to check on her because she hasn’t been able to reach her.”
A fib, but bordering on the truth.
Bill frowned, then stepped out onto the small porch and closed the door behind him. “I don’t need the kids to hear this.”
“We just want to make sure she’s okay. When was the last time you spoke with her?”
“A couple days ago she called me to cancel her time with the kids. Again. This wasn’t the first time. She’s canceled all but one weekend with the kids in the last two months. I’m pissed. We’ve always gotten along, even after the divorce. Well, I guess you could say that we learned to get along after the divorce, and things were fine. We both love the kids, and we have a custody arrangement that works for us, and the kids adjusted. In two years she’s never canceled a weekend. Ever. And four in a row? It’s not like her.”
This would be the fourth weekend since Elise got out of juvie. Coincidence? Lucy didn’t think so.
“Did she say why?”
“The first time she had an excuse I didn’t quite believe—a job interview out of town. But I didn’t question it. Then she stopped giving excuses. And quitting—that’s another thing. Completely out of character. Erica is predictable. She likes routine and organization and a regular schedule.”
“So she didn’t tell you why she quit her job at corrections?”
“No, and it was the first fight we’ve had since the divorce was final. She has damn good benefits, the kids were on her plan. She said she’d cover them, but that’s just bullshit, you know? I’m self-employed. My insurance is crap
.”
“Is she covering them?”
“Yes, paying through the nose for it, too, to keep the same plan through the COBRA program. I called her on it, but she just clammed up and said she was working on something.”
“And you don’t know where she is or where she’s working?”
“No. If she calls, I’ll have her call you, that’s the best I can do.”
“Does she have any other family? Someone who might know where she is or where she’s working?”
“No. She doesn’t get along with her dad, he’s in Indiana now, I think. Her mom is dead. She has half siblings she never talks to.”
“Did Erica say anything or can you think of any reason why she’s acting odd? Or why she quit her job? Was she seeing someone?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. She could be seeing someone, though we agreed that if either of us brought a regular person into the lives of our kids, we’d tell each other. Just so we have everything on the up-and-up, you know? And that’s worked for us. Quitting was out of character, canceling on the kids, me not being able to reach her.” He frowned, looked worried. “Is she in trouble?”
“No, but the warden is concerned, same as you, so I promised to track her down.” Lucy handed him her business card. “If she calls you, please give her my name and number and tell her I can help her with anything that’s going on. If she doesn’t want to call me, if you can just let me know if she reaches out?”
“Of course. Should I be worried?”
“I can’t say, I just need to talk to her. Did she tell you why she quit her job?”
“No. She was having problems with an inmate, but I thought she’d fixed it.”
Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. “Do you know which inmate?”
“Elise. A girl named Elise. I know Erica couldn’t wait until she aged out because she dreaded going in and seeing her.”
Lucy was so surprised she couldn’t hide her reaction. “She talked to you?”
“Not about why she quit, but she had been complaining about this girl for months. Then she stopped complaining, a couple months ago, and I thought Elise had left the system. But then she quit her job … I suppose that could be why.”
Cold as Ice Page 14