BLOODY BELL

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BLOODY BELL Page 9

by Jeremy Waldron


  “And that right there is why I remain single,” Erin said, still staring at Tyler through the window. “Men like him give the good ones bad names.”

  “C’mon. Let’s go,” I said as soon as we saw Tyler drive away in his Range Rover.

  Standing, I paused a brief moment to appreciate the luck I had in finding King. He was a great man, a man with integrity, and I was sure I wouldn’t be dating anyone if he hadn’t found his way into my life.

  Erin followed me to the door. Sliding her sunglasses onto her face, she said, “I think we need to clear some things up with Ms. Dee. If she was sleeping with Tyler, it would give incentive to push her daughter out of her life.”

  I stiff-armed the door and exited the shop. The lovely scent of coffee was replaced by the fresh smells of spring. I soaked up the sunshine, knowing this story was about to get ugly.

  “If Cameron found out her mom was fooling around with Tyler—or even thinking about it—why would she want to stick around?” I asked.

  It was the one recurring thought I had—the only thing that made sense. Something told me we were only given half the story by Ms. Dee, and that disturbed me more than I cared to admit. Why even bother seeking our assistance if she wasn’t going to give us the complete truth?

  “God knows I would have left if my mom did something like that.” Erin opened her car door and lowered herself inside.

  When I did the same, I said, “But if Cameron did leave on her own, you would think she would have told someone.” I started the car and began driving toward Ms. Dee’s house.

  “Are we wasting our time by speaking with Ms. Dee again?”

  “It’s possible. But it’s the fastest way to the truth,” I said, wishing we had more evidence to go on. All we had was Ms. Dee’s word and the brief crossing of paths with Detective Campbell. But Campbell talking to Tyler was only an assumption, and I didn’t work off assumptions.

  It wasn’t long before we were parked in front of Ms. Dee’s apartment building. It appeared she was on her way to work. I couldn’t believe our luck. The timing was perfect.

  “Ms. Dee,” I called out to her after having stepped out from behind the wheel. “Do you have a minute?”

  Ms. Dee dug her heels into the sidewalk and gaped. I watched her glance up the block as if debating whether or not she wanted to speak to us at all. I was taking note of her Safeway work uniform when she said, “I’m late for work and really can’t miss the next bus.”

  If I hadn’t seen the inside of her home, I would have thought she was purposely trying to avoid having to speak with us. But I believed what she said and could almost see the look of terror hiding in her eyes with the possibility of missing the next paycheck if she didn’t report to duty. I’d been in her shoes, was still there. Though something told me she was in a far worse position than even I could understand.

  “We can walk you to your stop.” Erin didn’t wait for a response, taking off after Ms. Dee.

  I galloped close behind and was quick to catch up. Not wanting to waste time by beating around the bush, I said, “Ms. Dee, we spoke with Tyler Lopez.”

  She didn’t slow her stride or shorten her gait. “And does he have my daughter?”

  “Ms. Dee,” Erin matched her quick pace, “were you having an affair with Tyler Lopez?”

  Suddenly, Ms. Dee slammed on her brakes, stopped, and sneered. “Is that what he told you?”

  A black woman lowered her cell phone and listened from a nearby stoop. A rusted-out truck rumbled past and drowned out our voices. “He also says that the baby isn’t his,” I said.

  Ms. Dee’s eyes flicked over to me. “Of course a man-whore like that would deny it.”

  Her tone was full of attitude and I couldn’t help but notice how Ms. Dee seemed resentful of everything we were telling her. I could imagine it was hard to take, but it was also important we covered our bases, knowing that we were presenting the facts. Maybe what Tyler said could actually be true?

  Ms. Dee’s posture tensed. “Did you forget that I came to you for help?”

  “And we’re still trying to find your daughter,” I reminded her, remaining cool even in the presence of the ticking time bomb I could feel about to go off.

  “Really?” She pinched her brows and stared. “Because it seems like you’re accusing me of something.”

  “Why didn’t you hire a private investigator?” Erin asked.

  Ms. Dee snapped her fiery gaze to Erin. “If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have much money.”

  We were losing ground and this was turning personal. I didn’t want to make this about finances, only wanted to know what happened to Cameron and if we could still help. But we needed the truth, even if it was hard for Ms. Dee to swallow.

  “You must understand the reasons we’re asking you about your relationship with Tyler,” I said. “We can’t help if you’re not being completely honest with us.”

  The sound of the bus’s brakes hissing filled the air behind me. Our time was about up.

  Ms. Dee stared as a wave of anxiety rolled beneath my collar.

  Then she narrowed her gaze and backpedaled away. “I thought you were better than the detectives, Ms. Bell. But now I see I made a mistake in thinking you were someone I could trust to find my daughter.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ms. Dee climbed onto the city bus and we watched as it sputtered away in a thick cloud of black exhaust. Erin rolled her gaze over to me. “Should we follow her?”

  I thumbed my ear, worrying about the current path we were on. I wanted to believe that Ms. Dee was only anxious to get to work, not that she wanted to push us away. But her words stung and left me asking myself why I should care at all.

  It was clear Ms. Dee was stressed. With everything that was going on in her life, I didn’t doubt the burden of guilt riding on her shoulders. I tried not to take her jab at me personally, but it was easier said than done.

  “No,” I finally told Erin and headed back to the car. “This time, we’re on our own.”

  Erin followed but I wasn’t in a hurry to turn the car on. I didn’t know where to go next or what to do. My head was spinning, trying to make sense of what little information we had to work with. Did Tyler have a hand in Cameron’s disappearance, or were we getting played by Ms. Dee?

  “If Ms. Dee was in a romantic relationship with Tyler,” I whispered my thoughts out loud, “that could explain Cameron’s disappearance but not Tracey’s.”

  Erin was biting the inside of her cheek, filing through her own thoughts of confusion.

  I wanted there to be a link between Cameron and Tracey but, so far, there was nothing but my suspicion. Maybe that was all there ever would be.

  My knee bounced with anxiety as I thought about King.

  It would be so much easier if there was a connection. Just one piece of evidence to lead me to one of the women’s whereabouts. I couldn’t let this go. There was a story hiding somewhere and the pressure in my head squeezed harder.

  Erin was looking at me when she asked, “Why do you keep thinking there is a link at all between the two cases?”

  My hand pressed against my gut when the black woman from the stop knocked on Erin’s window. I turned the key so Erin could power down her window.

  “Can we help you?” Erin asked.

  “I heard you talking to Ms. Dee.” The woman’s golden eyes bounced between Erin and me. “You’re not wrong, you know.”

  I leaned over the console. “What aren’t we wrong about?”

  The woman gave me a knowing look. “I’ve seen them together.”

  Erin tucked her chin into her neck and rolled her eyes over to me.

  “The age difference between them is what fuels gossip magazines.” The woman’s eyes glimmered.

  My eyebrows pulled together as I stared into her magnificent eyes. “You’ve seen Ms. Dee with Tyler Lopez?”

  The woman nodded. “He drives a black Range Rover. It’s always bumping that loud music when he’s aroun
d.” She frowned and shook her head with disapproval. “We’re all talking about it behind her back.”

  “Does Ms. Dee know this?”

  “Can’t say for sure, but she’s smart enough to pick up on the clues.” Her lips pinched as she nodded her head. “I told all this to the detective who came by yesterday, too.”

  “You spoke to a detective?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you remember the detective’s name?”

  “Campbell.” She flicked her gaze to Erin. “I remember because of the soup.”

  “What did he ask you?” Erin asked.

  “He was asking me questions about Ms. Dee’s daughter, Cameron. She’s missing, you know.” The black woman nodded her head once. “Hasn’t been seen for three days now.” She shook her head. “Shame.”

  I gripped the steering wheel with my left hand, suddenly feeling nauseated. Staring ahead, I couldn’t stop my frustration at Campbell from reddening my cheeks. He seemed to be treating this case like Cameron’s life didn’t matter. I wondered if it was because Cameron was poor and came from a black neighborhood.

  “If you asked me, I’d say that Ms. Dee used her daughter to meet Tyler and then stole him away from her.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because Cameron was the first to bring the boy around, and Ms. Dee was the last to see him go.”

  “When was that?”

  “The last night I saw Cameron.”

  “Three nights ago?”

  “That’s right. The two of them were together. Ms. Dee and Tyler Lopez.”

  Erin was giving me a look that said we had finally found the evidence to prove Tyler’s statement was true. I couldn’t believe it. My stomach flopped like a pancake. I told the woman that we were looking for Cameron, purposefully leaving out the detail that we were recruited by Ms. Dee. She couldn’t tell us much more than what she’d already shared, but she promised to call if she witnessed anything unusual that we could potentially use to help find Cameron.

  “If I see that boy around here again, you’ll be the first person I call.” She glanced to my card and swept her gaze up to Erin. “And if you need a statement from a witness, I’d love to volunteer if it means getting on your podcast.”

  Erin patted the woman’s hand on her door. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The woman pulled away from the window with a bright grin spreading to her ears when I received a message from Dawson about an apparent homicide on the north side of the city.

  My heart lodged in my throat and there was nothing from King. That had me worried.

  Why was Dawson the first to be telling me this? Did he know who the victim was? Could it be Cameron? There were so many unknowns I couldn’t help but feel like Dawson had purposely kept his message short to hide the facts from me.

  We left our new star witness on the side of the road and raced across town. The scene was already unfolding by the time we arrived. Investigators were shedding their suits and the coroner’s van was closing its doors when I spotted King from afar.

  His face was pale, his spine curled with exhaustion.

  It didn’t take long for us to join the herd of reporters trying to learn the victim’s name. No one knew. Only that it was a young woman, which had me thinking it could easily be Tracey or Cameron.

  “They’re keeping their lips tight on this one,” a colleague said just as I saw Nancy Jordan step out from behind her news van.

  “Any idea why?”

  “We can only speculate.” He shrugged.

  When King spotted me, he immediately strode in my direction. My lungs released their tight squeeze and I inhaled a wish of hope. I held his eyes inside of mine and watched him lower his chin. A dark cloud formed overhead and all I could hear was the sound of my heart beating. I knew immediately something was wrong.

  “Sam,” he covered his mouth when he spoke, “you need to leave now.”

  I blinked and felt my body heat rise. I gave a slight head shake and said, “Is it her?”

  King tilted his head to his shoulder and sighed.

  “Tell me. Is it Cameron Dee?” I flicked my gaze over King’s shoulder and saw John Alvarez and Bobby Campbell staring into the back of King.

  “You have to leave, Sam. You’re not welcome here.”

  I kept shaking my head, asking myself why?

  “Trust me.”

  King’s hands reached for my shoulders but I quickly swatted them away. I stared into his eyes as I breathed fire through my nostrils. Alvarez and Campbell were still staring and I knew that King’s request for me to leave had something to do with our run-in with Campbell earlier.

  “Are you telling me to leave or is someone else?” I couldn’t see it being Alvarez making the request. King wouldn’t allow it. But Campbell? He had the venom to play dirty.

  “No one is getting anything right now.” King kept his voice low and to the point so that only I could hear. “You won’t miss a beat. I promise.”

  “But this is my beat,” I argued.

  I felt the air around me freeze. Erin was clever enough to distract nearby reporters to keep them from eavesdropping. Something was clearly bothering King and I wished I was in a position to ask. But I couldn’t. Not here. Not with Nancy Jordan staring at the back of my head from across the way. I could almost feel the glimmer of amusement I knew was in her eye as I was singled out by the man who was supposed to have my back no matter what.

  “Sam, please.” King’s gaze softened. “Make this easy on all of us and just go before someone makes a scene.”

  Erin looped her arm through mine. “C’mon, Sam.”

  I rooted my feet into the ground, wanting to make a stand. I stared into King’s eyes and felt my arms begin to shake. Why was he doing this? Had our professions finally collided and come between us?

  “Let’s not risk losing our only good source at the department,” Erin murmured into my ear.

  She was right. King would explain later. I’d make sure of it. But before I retreated off into the sunset, I narrowed my gaze and made sure King saw the storm of anger swirling in the pin pricks of my eyes. When I knew he understood what I had waiting for him, I snapped my neck and walked back to the car with my chin held high, acting as if his words didn’t bother me at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Alex King ran a limp hand over his head as Samantha Bell strode out of his reach. Staring at his feet, his heart was heavy with guilt. He wanted to tell her why she couldn’t stay, but this wasn’t the place. There were too many eyes watching and ears listening. He could only hope that she would come around and understand that this wasn’t personal—strictly business.

  King rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling his shoulders knot with sudden stress.

  It was a combination of the Browns’ deaths and now Kate Wilson’s, but it was also the complication that came from dating a reporter.

  Sweeping his gaze up, he caught sight of Samantha pushing her way through the line of gawkers. They were staring at the scene, all wondering when they—the police—would give a statement about what happened and who died. But, like he told Samantha, no statement would be made. Not today.

  “It’s for the best,” King heard a woman say.

  He turned his head and found a sympathetic Nancy Jordan staring with clasped hands at her waist.

  “For you both, really.” Her red lips smirked. “The conflict of interest is shockingly apparent.”

  King’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with agitation. Spinning on a heel, he refused to let Jordan’s comments get to him. His relationship with Samantha was certainly complicated, but it wasn’t a mistake. That much he knew.

  Pushing his thoughts aside, King met up with his partner.

  “Campbell is an asshole,” Alvarez said. And King agreed.

  They knew Samantha was one of the few reporters they could trust to do the right thing. Samantha’s previous marriage to one of their own, Gavin Bell, meant that even a decade after his death
, she was still seen as family.

  Detective Campbell glared from near the victim’s car. The crime lab team was packing up and preparing to leave the scene. Kate Wilson’s body was already zipped up and in the wagon by the time Lieutenant Kent Baker arrived.

  “Detectives,” Lieutenant greeted the men. Alvarez caught their superior up to speed. “Was Kate Wilson part of this growing group of women that’s suddenly gone missing?”

  Alvarez nodded his lowered head. “Detective Campbell said she was.”

  “And where is Detective Campbell? Is he here?” Lieutenant’s brown eyes scanned the area.

  “I’ll go find him, sir.” Alvarez went to find Campbell and, when he did, King turned to Lieutenant.

  “The victim recently gave birth.” King’s voice was low and even.

  Lieutenant’s eyes rolled over to King’s. “And do you know where the baby might be?”

  King shook his head. “Not sure the baby is even alive.”

  “Christ, Alex. Why does it feel like we have a crisis on our hands?”

  An image of Keith and Pam Brown flashed in the front of King’s mind. He stood chewing his tongue, looking for the right words on how to share his theories without mentioning Samantha by name.

  “Because we do,” King said in a raspy voice.

  Lieutenant cocked his jaw and stared as Campbell waddled his round haunches into the center of their little pow wow. He greeted Lieutenant and avoided eye contact with King. Lieutenant asked him questions about Kate Wilson and Campbell said, “Kate was considered a runaway. I don’t believe she was kidnapped.”

  “Then what about Cameron Dee; is she a runaway, too?” King asked.

  Campbell narrowed his gaze and kept his yap shut. Lieutenant stood firm and watched the two detectives have a pissing contest, hoping the answers he was looking for would soon reveal themselves before a real fight broke out.

  “The medical examiner will look for evidence to suggest Kate was sexually assaulted,” King swept his gaze back to Lieutenant’s, “but I would be surprised if she’ll find any.”

 

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