Blood Red (22 page)

“Okay, here’s the thing. If I talk to you, you’re gonna get really, really pissed off with me, and then you’re going to take me to jail or worse. I’m in a dilemma here, gentlemen. I do not want to go to jail.”

“Did you commit a crime?” That was the tall one, Holdstedter. That was good, because for a minute he was beginning to think the poor guy couldn’t talk.

“Sort of. Yes, but it’s something I already fixed, so, I’m not sure.”

“Okay. Was anyone hurt during the commitment of this crime?”

“More temporarily inconvenienced and probably really, really pissed off at me.”

“So it was a joke?”

“Absolutely not.”

The two detectives looked at each other and had a completely silent conversation that involved nothing but facial expressions. “Okay, Mr. Kirby. Let’s try this again. I’m going to ask you questions and I will want answers.” Boyd held up a hand before he could protest. “If in the course of this discussion you should happen to mention a non-violent crime that does not involve dealing drugs to children or peddling little girls on the sex market, I am willing to overlook it for the present time.”

“Are you completely serious?”

“Deadly serious. I want to find Danielle Hopkins. Anything else you talk about is going to slide as long as it helps me in that process.”

He thought about that for a minute and finally nodded.

“Okay. So what if I tell you the guy I was . . . helping Danielle deal with was a cop?”

“That would depend on what the cop did, and what you did.”

“Well, okay. So here’s the thing: I was blackmailing the cop to leave Danni alone.”

“What was he doing to Danni?”

“Forced sexual encounters to avoid possible jail time.”

“Talk to me. Tell me everything.” The two detectives didn’t look neutral anymore, they looked like they wanted to find a blackmailing cop and have a sit-down chat with him.

“You don’t push on me or Danni?”

“Same conditions as before: no drugs, kids, or murder, and we have a deal.”

“None of that stuff. I was blackmailing a police officer named Brian Freemont.”

What he expected was either a nice, calm questioning session or to find himself in jail in around five minutes. What he got was two very menacing detectives who were suddenly smiling and looking at him as if he were a long-lost cousin they’d been dying to meet.

“Brian Freemont? Really?”

“Ummm . . . I’m a little scared to answer this, but yes.”

“Come on, boy, let’s take you out to lunch.” The detective looked at his watch. “This could take a while.”

Ben had a feeling his day was about to get very interesting.

He wasn’t wrong.

Ben was just starting to realize he wasn’t likely to go to jail when he saw Tom Pardue coming around the corner; Tom took one look at him and the men with him and his normal shit-eating grin dropped like a soufflé at a rap concert.

Well, the day had started crappy, but it was getting better and better by the second. Who should walk right into the very place he was leaving than good old Tommy Pardue? Boyd felt a smile grow across his face when the punk saw him. First the treasure-trove kid who was about to make his life easier, and now a chew toy as a bonus.

Pardue did an about-face and got half a step before Boyd was bellowing loud enough to have the kid next to him let out a little gasp. “FREEEEZE!”

The baboon stopped where he was. He was well trained like that.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Bullshit. You’re always doing something.” He walked over and moved around until he was in front of the slimebag. Tom Pardue had a nice, long record, but he was normally smart enough to avoid getting busted. Boyd made it a point to stop him every single time he saw him, because he kept hoping he’d get lucky.

Pardue was looking scared enough to rabbit, smart enough to stay exactly where he was, and angry enough to throw a tantrum.

“I’m just here to see a friend.” His voice was shaking; either he was up to something, or he was carrying something.

“Yeah? Who you coming to see?” Boyd did his best to sound bored. He was very good at sounding that way. It was a gift.

“A girl I know.”

“One of your hookers?”

Pardue started looking nervous. “Um. No, just a girl I date.”

Boyd saw it from the corner of his eye, the way Ben Kirby jumped as if slapped. He checked the reaction again when he continued. “You don’t date girls, Tommy. You just do quality checks on your own stable; who do you think you’re kidding?”

Yep. Ben got a look of absolute shock on his face. He didn’t even try to hide it.

“Get up against the wall, boyo, now.” He complied, but to make sure he got it right the first time, Boyd had Danny help him. Danny was only as gentle as he was obligated to be by law.

When he was done, Danny got that little sad look he always got when a beautiful girl was married, or when he didn’t get to have fun with a perp. “He’s clean.”

Boyd snorted. “He ain’t clean, just smarter than he looks.”

“Hey, I’m right here.”

“Don’t I know it. Now don’t you think you should be somewhere else? Before I forget you’re a nice, upstanding citizen and find something to arrest your sorry ass for?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“And Tommy? If I find you around here again, I’ll think of something inventive.” He looked at Pardue as hard as he could. He hated the little shit. He’d hated Pardue back when he was on vice and knew he was beating the crap out of the college girls working for him. Boyd just never could find a way to get any of them to talk. The notion that the little fucker was slippery enough to escape him still stuck in the back of his throat.

“That sounds like harassment.” See? That was what he was talking about. There he was getting all smug again, because there was no evidence.

“No, Tommy. That isn’t harassment. That’s a promise.” He moved in closer until their faces were two inches apart, his eyes felt like they would pop out of his head he was staring so hard. “Harassment doesn’t happen to little fucks like you. I happen. Try me.”

Pardue nodded his head, all semblance of uppity asshole removed for the moment. Then he wised up and got the hell out of the way.

But as he was standing to the side, he looked back at Ben with a murderous glare.

“You got a problem with my suspect, loser?” Whatever the problem was between Pardue and Kirby, he figured the least he could do was make it a little easier on the kid. Christ, the kid was definitely returning the favor over lunch.

“What?” Pardue looked at him suddenly all innocent again.

“I said do you have a problem with my suspect?”

“No. I don’t even know him.”

“Good. Now get the hell out of here.” This time he waited until the walking ape ass was gone before he moved on with Ben and Danny.

“Friend of yours?”

Ben looked distracted. Boyd was pretty sure he could guess why.

“No. I’ve only met him twice.”

“Knows somebody that you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell your friend to watch herself. Do that, okay?” If his voice was softer than usual, he didn’t notice.

“I will. I definitely will.” The open book of Ben Kirby’s facial expressions closed down hard and fast.

As long as he was still willing to talk about Freemont, it was all right in Boyd’s book. Still, if he’d screwed up something in the kid’s life, he’d probably feel sorry about it later.

Maggie sat in class and did her work. Ben wasn’t there, and that bothered her a bit, but she tried not to let it drag her down. When her work was done and it was time to be on the way, she packed up her notes and grabbed her belongings.

Today was payday.

Big payday. Her duties for Soulis were completed, and again she felt elation and depression at the thought. Still, she had a nice sum of money coming her way and that helped salve the thoughts going through her head.

She walked out of the classroom and into the middle of a bright day that made her wish she’d brought her sunglasses. They were still in the car, where they did her absolutely no good.

She checked her cell phone for messages: there were three. Two were from clients who wanted to know when she could see them. One was from Jason. The other two would have to wait for a bit.

She called him back and he answered on the fourth ring. “This is Jason Soulis.”

“Hi, Jason. This is Maggie.”

“How lovely to hear from you.” That accent of his still puzzled her. Somewhere in Europe was a guess, but beyond that, she had no idea. “Thank you for returning my call.”

“I was going to call you, actually. I’m finished with your project.”

A tall man with a military haircut stared at her as she walked past, and she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise.

At exactly the same time as she caught the freak staring at her, she saw the first of the crows. They came in fast and hard and began landing on the edges of the building around her. Weird.

“That’s wonderful news, Maggie. You’ve made me a very happy man.”

“I’m glad I could help.” What else could she say?

“Do you have plans for tonight? I was thinking about discussing having you stay for the evening.”

“I think I can manage that, Jason.”

“Excellent. I shall make the arrangements with our mutual contact.” The tall man was still watching her. She could feel his eyes on her like oil on water: slick but not sticking, and definitely a little disgusting.

“Please do.” She had no desire whatsoever to speak with Tom. He was being a prick lately and she was thinking more and more of ending her business deals with him. Of course, he probably wouldn’t be thrilled about that. Okay, he might be homicidal.

“I shall see you around seven then?”

She checked her watch. That gave her three hours and spare change. “It sounds perfect, Jason. I’ll see you then.”

“Maggie?”

“Yes?”

“Wear something nice for me, please.”

“I will, just for you.”

The conversation went on for what seemed like forever. Ben felt numb inside, but he did his best to answer the questions one last time.

Boyd pushed another cola at him as soon as the waitress brought it over. “Okay, Ben. I want to go over this last part, and then we’ll be done. Honest.”

“Hey. You bought me a burger and a lot of caffeine. It’s okay.”

Boyd smiled and nodded. “Okay, what happened to the files he dropped off?”

“I found the one I needed and burned the rest.”

Holdstedter looked at him, his broad Nordic face puzzled. “Why did you burn them?”

“Because, I didn’t want anyone to find out what those girls went through.”

“You didn’t even look through the files first? To see what was in them?”

“Look, I was trying to do someone a favor, okay? She was depressed and she was probably ready to have a meltdown and I wanted to see her happy again. Is that so hard to understand?”

Boyd answered for his partner. “Honestly? Yes, it is.”

“Why?”

“Do you have any idea what most people would have done in your situation?”

“No,” he shrugged. He hadn’t really given it much thought.

“My guess is a lot of guys would have used it to their advantage.”

“Jesus. I could never do that.”

Boyd looked at him hard and then his expression softened just a little. “Yeah. I believe you. But you’re the exception that proves the rule, Ben. I’ve dealt with a lot of kids your age who would have done all sorts of things with the information you had, but you’re the only one I can think of who would have burned the stuff.”

“Well, maybe that was my way of stopping myself from becoming a statistic.”

“Then good for you. For the record, you did break a lot of laws, and some of them would land you in prison with some damned mean characters. But even if I hadn’t made a promise to you, I wouldn’t press charges. You’re good people, Ben Kirby. Try to stay that way.”

The detective stood up and his partner did the same. Boyd handed him a business card. “You have any problems from Pardue, you give me a call.”

“Why did you tell him I was a suspect?”

“Because I saw you two knew each other. This way, when I come down on him, and I will come down on him, he won’t blame you.”

“What . . . what exactly does he do?”

“What doesn’t he do?” Boyd looked him up and down and then shrugged. “He deals dope, he works a few small protection rackets, and he pimps college girls.”

Something cold grew through the lining of Ben’s stomach.

Boyd watched him and got a strange expression on his face. It was strange, Ben suspected, because it seldom showed up on his features. It was pity.

Ben hated him a little for that, but he hid it. The detectives left, and Ben stayed where he was. He knew he’d have to move eventually, but he didn’t like the idea. He didn’t like much of anything at the moment.

Some truths hurt more than others.

This particular revelation hurt like hell.

Alan came home to absolute silence. He’d tried calling several times, but without much success. No one answered but the machine.

The sun was just setting by the time he opened the door to his house and stepped inside. He walked through the living room and then up the stairs, his emotions doing the exact same thing they had the day before. He should have been calm, but it wasn’t working out that way.

The stairs creaked, but he heard no other noises.

The hallway was dark and he walked softly, ignoring the way his knees wanted to shake. What the hell was wrong with him? This was his home, his castle, the place where he should have felt safest.
So why am I so fucking scared?

He shook the thought away angrily and moved to the master bedroom’s closed door. He didn’t knock, it was his room.