Evil Never Dies (The Lizzy Gardner Series Book 6) (9 page)

Lizzy took a breath and waited for the officers to drive away.

The girl was safe for now.

But Bennett knew what she was up to, which meant things were about to get ugly.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The first thing Claire Kerley saw when she walked into her bedroom was the crayon marks scrawled across her bedroom walls. Walls she had spent an entire weekend painting herself. She dropped her backpack on the floor.

She could hear her little brother and sister fighting in the other room, arguing over who got the front seat on the way to the grocery store with Mom.

Before she could close her door, her older brother, Cameron, walked in and took a seat on the corner of her bed.

He was eighteen going on thirty. Their mother had remarried and had two more kids, another boy and girl. Judging by the way they argued, they would grow up to be just like her and Cameron.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Are you kidding me? Look around. Those little monsters take my things and write on my walls. And that man Mom married took away my phone and car for a week. That’s just plain cruel.”

“They found a bag of weed in your room, and it didn’t help that you called Mom a bitch. The punishment was justified.”

“Did you come in here just to remind me of what a horrible person I am?”

“No, I came in here to tell you about something I saw at school today. You’re not going to like it, but I didn’t want you to hear from anyone else.”

“What is it? Are you and Megan breaking up?”

“No, we’re fine. This is about you,” he said, “not me.”

Downstairs, Mom yelled goodbye, and the house fell silent. Claire waited for her brother to say whatever it was he had on his mind, but he seemed hesitant. “You’re driving me crazy, Cameron. Out with it.”

“It’s about Luke. After practice, I saw him making out with Jasmine Perkins behind the gym.”

“That’s a lie.”

He shook his head. “They were going at it pretty hot and heavy.”

“Luke despises that girl. God, this is a new low. You’ve never liked Luke. You’re just jealous because he’s the quarterback and you’re a lineman.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t going to show you this, but if my character is going to be called into question, I guess I don’t have a choice.” He fiddled with his smartphone and then positioned it so they could watch the video together.

Her stomach roiled. It was true. Luke and Jasmine were all over each other.

Claire dug around in her backpack until she remembered she no longer had a phone. She hated her stepdad, Dave . . . hated her whole damn family. She had to get out of here before she suffocated.

Cameron followed her down the carpeted stairs. “Where are you going?”

“Out. I just need some time alone, OK?”

“I guess, but you better get back before Dave gets home.”

“I’m tired of Dave telling me what to do. He’s not our dad.”

“Dad didn’t just leave Mom, you know,” Cameron said to her back. “He left all of us, Claire, and never looked back. You need to get over it. You need to stop being angry at the world because of Dad. Stop acting like a spoiled brat and grow up.”

Claire walked out of the house and slammed the door behind her. More than anything, she wished she could move far away and never talk to any of them ever again. By the time she got to the end of her street, she was shivering from the cold. What an idiot she was . . . leaving the house without a jacket.
Stupid.

She looked over her shoulder. She wasn’t about to go home while Cameron was there. He would just laugh, rub it in her face that she couldn’t stay away for more than five minutes. So she kept on walking. She rubbed her arms as she went, thinking about how unfair life could be.

As he drove along, he found himself thinking about the David Ligare exhibit that would soon be showing at the Crocker Art Museum. One of a handful invited to attend a private preview of nearly eighty works, he’d been so caught up in throwing the police off his trail, he’d forgotten about the impending event until this very moment. Ligare’s works were poetic. He created order in a chaotic world.

Right now, though, he needed to take care of business, finish what he’d started. The media was finally getting fired up. In today’s paper, one journalist warned the people of Sacramento to be alert. After finding a body near the American River and then the woman in the elevator, reporters took it upon themselves to give credit to the Sacramento Strangler.

Hmm.
Maybe they were finally catching on. He would love to be a fly on the wall at the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Sometimes the media could be downright clever. For instance, dubbing Albert Fish the “Werewolf of Wysteria” because of the
rumors that he lusted for blood under a full moon sounded as if a
little thought actually went into naming the killer. But the Sacramento Strangler? If memory served, he wasn’t the first person in the area to strangle a few people to death.

The Sacramento Strangler
, he repeated in his mind.
Bah. Boring. Bland.
For now, he had to let the nickname go. He had more important things to worry about.

He was on a mission.

Today he had something special planned. This would be his first kidnapping.

Disguised with a beard, hat, and sunglasses, he drove on the back streets, making his way toward Watt Avenue, where he planned to find, at the very least, a prostitute or a homeless person. He had a room readied back home. The last owners had gone to a lot of trouble to build a wine cellar. Narrow stairs led deep underground into a dark, windowless room. The perfect setup for what he had planned.

His victim, a female—age didn’t really matter—would be bound and tied. Perhaps he could make videotaped messages to send to the media.

No. Too dicey.

He wasn’t sure how long he would keep her. Maybe just a day or two. He’d figure it all out as he went along.

He knew it was risky, bringing one of his victims to his house, but that was the whole point. He’d forgotten how thrilling it could be to pursue something new and exciting. He would get to know his victim before he took her life. He’d never known any of his victims before killing them. Just thinking about it gave him a thrill, a sensory delight.

He inhaled. Life had become too predictable. Taking a chance, going in pursuit of such an experience, was downright intoxicating. He’d all but forgotten his need for high-level stimulation. Some people needed gambling, sex, or drugs to achieve such a mental rush. He just needed this.

With his gaze focused on the road ahead of him, he could hardly believe what he was seeing.
Would you look at that?
A young girl. A hitchhiker, of all things. “Fate is a fickle fellow,” he said with a laugh as he passed the girl before slowing and pulling off the road.

In his rearview mirror, he watched her run to catch up to him. She reminded him of sunshine and innocence. The girl didn’t bother leaning forward and looking through the passenger window to see who was driving. She just climbed right in and said, “Thanks,” in a breathless voice. “I was beginning to wonder if anyone would ever pick me up.”

“Not a problem,” he said as he made quick work of merging back onto the road. “Where are you off to?”

She flipped her shiny blonde hair to one side, then looked at him with bright-green eyes. “I just need to get away.”

“Anywhere?” he asked.

She flung a hand through the air, as though literally throwing caution to the wind. “I’ll go wherever you’re going.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely.” She looked him over. “You look pretty harmless to me.”

That particular comment elicited a grin.

Her laughter sounded like tiny twinkling bells.

“It’ll be dark out soon,” he told her. “Perhaps you should let me drive you home.” He would do no such thing, of course, but he figured it would put her at ease if she thought he was a straitlaced, worried old man.

“No way!” was her immediate response. “My family is nuts. I can’t take it any longer.”

“I only had a sister, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Did she die?”

He nodded. “She drowned at a very young age.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“My mom remarried,” she told him. “My stepdad is a dick. I have a younger brother and sister who scribble on my walls and make a mess of my things. My older brother can’t seem to mind his own business. He thinks he’s my father. Like I really need another one of those. And that’s not the worst of it,” she said with a sigh. “My boyfriend, Luke, is a two-timing asshole.”

Cry me a river.

“Do you have any weed? I’m dying to get high.” She adjusted herself in the passenger seat, sat up taller. He could feel her looking at him. “How old are you?”

“None of your business,” he said. “Open the middle console. You’ll find a plastic bag inside.”

She did as he said. Picking up a clear baggie filled with yellow pills, she smiled and said, “Well, well, what do we have here?”

“They’re called
magic
,” he said, his voice lined with an air of grandiosity, although really, the yellow tablets were nothing more than sleeping pills. “They’re new, a party drug. And they’re spectacular.”

“Like ecstasy?”

“Even better. A bit of magic will take you on a trip you won’t want to come back from.”

“You don’t look like the druggie type.”

He shrugged.

She examined one of the pills. “How many should I take?”

“Two or three should do the trick. If you reach around to the back, you’ll find a water bottle.”

She did as he said and then unscrewed the top of the water bottle and took a sip. “After I take these, do you think you could drive me to my boyfriend’s house?”

“The two-timing asshole?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said with that twinkling laugh of hers, “that’s the one.” She popped the pills into her mouth and chased them down with water. Then she put the bag back where she’d found it. “There. I took three. Luke lives at 8815 La Casa, not too far from here.”

“We’re about ten minutes from La Casa,” he said. “That’s a nice area.”

“Yeah. His parents are loaded.”

She was doing it again—staring at him. He didn’t like it.

He spared her a glance, surprised by the way her smile lit up his insides. She wasn’t quite so annoying, after all. Her skin was flawless. If he could capture even a small fraction of her innocence on canvas, he would be a happy man.

“You’re a pretty cool dude,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“I want to be flying like a kite when I talk to Luke. I’m going to march right up to him and tell him exactly what I think of him.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, he made sure to go the speed limit. He didn’t need unwanted attention from other motorists.

There was something so refreshing about the girl. She was fearless. He felt sort of bad she wouldn’t ever get the chance to tell her dickish boyfriend what she thought of him. It would have been an interesting scene to witness.

“After I talk to Luke, do you think you could take me home?”

“Change of heart?”

“No,” she said with an exaggerated shiver. “I really do hate them all, but I don’t want my mom to worry. She freaks out easily—you know what I mean?”

Yes.
He knew exactly what she meant. The thought of her mother freaking out sent a shudder through his body—the good kind. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “After you talk to Luke, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

She turned away from him, her eyes back on the road in front of them as she rested her head against the leather seat.

He drove well past the exit to La Casa. Twenty minutes later, when he pulled into his two-car garage and shut off the engine, she’d long been fast asleep.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was after five when Hayley heard Lizzy return from a run around the neighborhood. She found Hayley and Kitally waiting for her in the living room.

“We’re ready to have a quick meeting when you are,” Kitally said.

“OK, let me grab a few things and we’ll do this.” In another minute, Lizzy returned holding a file, and she took a seat in an upholstered wingback chair facing the couch. She looked at the clock. “Jessica won’t be returning for another hour, at least. Let’s talk about what’s on the agenda for the next few weeks.”

“I think we should talk about Wayne Bennett,” Hayley said.

There was noise in the kitchen—the shuffling of drawers and the opening and closing of the microwave door. They all sat quietly and waited for Salma to finish what she was doing. It was at least five minutes before the girl walked into the living room, holding two bowls of popcorn. “Here,” she said, setting the bowl on the coffee table between them. She made eye contact with Hayley and then Lizzy. “OK, I can take a hint. I’m outta here.”

The girl’s stomach looked like a watermelon. It was hard for Hayley to believe she could walk without falling over.

As soon as Salma disappeared, Lizzy said, “This is never going to work. Maybe we should update one another at a later date.”

“We just have to make do,” Hayley said.

“You two need to find out what the deal is with Salma . . . if she has family who’s worried about her.”

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Kitally said.

“About Wayne Bennett,” Hayley went on. “Have you found anyone who will testify against him?”

“Not so far. It’s going to be tough. Bennett’s threatening his victims and their families with their lives.”

“What about the young woman he had with him last night? The girl who left with the police?”

“They took her to the station to fill out reports, but she refused to press charges against him.”

“I have an idea,” Kitally announced.

“Let’s hear it.”

“As I mentioned to you on the phone, Bennett owns at least a dozen rental homes, including the one you visited last night. Why don’t we set up cameras in every house that isn’t occupied? If and when he takes someone to one of the houses, we’ll have a video recording of what he’s doing.”

“Tommy has agreed to install the cameras if we can get access,” Hayley added.

“Not a bad idea,” Lizzy said. “Although illegally obtained evidence won’t be admissible in court.”

“Unless we say that the videos were sent to us by an anonymous person.”

“Well, even then, probably. Still, it’s worth a shot. Let’s set up surveillance on the homes to see which ones are empty and go from there.” Lizzy opened her file and looked through her notes. “Owen Dunham. I’ve been meaning to ask you two about him.”

Hayley shrugged it off. “We dealt with that problem.”

Lizzy lifted a brow. “So what happened? The plan was to place stolen items in the trunk of his car.”

Lizzy turned to Kitally. “Hayley seems to have lost her voice, so why don’t you fill me in.”

Kitally crinkled her nose but didn’t say a word.

“One of you better tell me what’s going on or the meeting is over.”

Hayley grunted. “I cut off his balls and tossed them in the river.”

Lizzy looked perplexed. “You’re kidding, right?”

Hayley shook her head.

Kitally refused to make eye contact.

Lizzy looked over her shoulder as if she thought someone might have overheard. Then she turned back to face Hayley and said in a low voice, “What would possess you to do such a thing? You don’t think you’re going to be the first person investigators think of? Three years ago, you cut off a man’s penis and now someone’s testicles, and you don’t think anyone is going to put two and two together?”

Silence.

“What is your ridiculous fetish with male body parts anyhow?”

Hayley refused to answer such a ridiculous question. Lizzy wasn’t herself and hadn’t been for a while now. If it were up to Hayley, every convicted rapist would have his testicles removed. “Owen Dunham and I do not share any connection whatsoever,” Hayley told Lizzy matter-of-factly. “Our paths never once crossed before that night. I never even heard his name until he showed up on our list.” Hayley lifted her hands in frustration. “You might feel better about this if you look at the file and read over his long list of criminal activity.”

“I guess I should be happy you didn’t kill the man,” Lizzy said as she looked deep into Hayley’s eyes. “Because you’re not a killer. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Hayley threatened to come back and remove whatever was left if he went to the police,” Kitally added. “I think Dunham got the message loud and clear.”

Hayley stared back at Lizzy, unblinking, refusing to look away as she waited for her to move on to the next guy on the list. Because, clearly, Lizzy would not be able to handle the truth. The harsh reality was that Hayley had gone back that very night and taken care of Dunham for good. Kitally and Lizzy would never know what happened. It only mattered that Dunham would never have a chance to hurt anyone else again.

Lizzy’s shoulders visibly relaxed before she said, “So all evidence was removed?”

“Trust me,” Hayley said. “It’s all been taken care of.”

“I’d like you both to stay away from Dunham and Holmes for now.” Lizzy looked over their list. “What’s going on with the Ghost?”

“Nothing so far. There hasn’t been a sighting in days.”

“Well, good. Maybe she’s lost interest.”

“What about Scott Shaffer—number four on the list?” she asked next.

“As far I can tell, he’s been lying low and staying out of trouble,” Hayley said. “I’ll keep an eye on him and let you both know when he’s on the prowl again.”

“Sounds good. Other than doing surveillance on Wayne Bennett’s properties,” Lizzy said, “I need you both to go to Miriam Walters’s place of work.”

“The missing girl?”

Lizzy nodded.

“Where does—or did—she work?”

“At the mall. It’s all in the file, along with a short list of people who might have seen Miriam with Bennett.”

“What exactly do we want to know?” Kitally asked.

“We need to talk to anyone who might have been in close contact with Miriam before she disappeared. Did she mention going away for a while? Do any of her coworkers know what she used to do after she left work? Did she ever talk to anyone about Wayne Bennett? Did she ever meet him for lunch? If so, where did they go?”

They heard the rattle of keys before the front door opened. It was Jessica, home early. She left her belongings on the table and joined them in the living room. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Hayley said.

“You all look pretty serious for it to be nothing.”

Lizzy shrugged. “Just getting up-to-date on a few things.”

“That’s right,” Kitally said, her voice a little too cheerful. “We were talking about Lizzy’s newest client, Gus. He lost his wife, and he thinks someone at the Shady Oaks Nursing Home is responsible. In fact,” she said, turning to Lizzy, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the note that was written on the stationery in your file. I’m pretty sure I found a match.”

Jessica stepped closer and picked up the list of names. “What is this?”

Lizzy snatched the paper out of her hand and tucked it inside the file on her lap.

“What’s going on?” Jessica demanded.

A phone rang.

It was Lizzy’s cell. She picked up the call as she came to her feet and walked away from the group as she listened. When she returned, she had her coat and keys. “I have to go. I’ve got a live one.”

“Does it have to do with Wayne Bennett?” Hayley asked.

Lizzy nodded.

“President of SRT?
That
Wayne Bennett?” Jessica asked.

“One and the same,” Lizzy said. “He’s using his nonprofit organization to take advantage of young vulnerable women.”

“And he’s getting away with it,” Kitally added.

Jessica followed Lizzy to the door. “So who was that on the phone?”

“A girl named Olimpia Padula who says Bennett raped her. She’s willing to talk, even if it means sitting in front of a jury and telling her story.”

“Mind if I come along?”

Lizzy shrugged and then turned back to Hayley. “You two get busy working on the things we discussed. We’ll talk later.”

“What about Gus and the nursing home?” Kitally asked.

“Take care of it,” Lizzy said before she left the room. “You can fill me in later.”

Moments after Lizzy and Jessica left the house, Kitally saw Salma peer into the living room. “Is it safe?”

Kitally smiled. “Yeah, they’re gone. You can come out of hiding.”

Salma came in and eased herself into a chair with an enormous sigh. Kitally knew it wasn’t possible, but it seemed as if the girl’s belly had expanded since the last time she’d seen her.

“Your boss can be scary at times,” Salma said.

“She’s really not so bad,” Hayley said. “She’s just angry at the world right now.”

“I don’t know if
angry
is the right word,” Kitally said. “When I look into her eyes, I don’t see the same Lizzy Gardner. This new Lizzy seems possessed.”

Hayley sighed. “She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”

“Well, I didn’t want to tell you this in front of Lizzy,” Salma said, “but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the Ghost.”

That got Hayley’s attention. “Yeah, what about her?”

“I think I know who you’re looking for.”

“Do you know her name?” Kitally asked.

“No, but before I slept in the park, I was living with a friend who was dating a guy who lived on Fedora Street. He had a roommate who looks just like the person you two were discussing the other day: skinny, pale-skinned, and she had white hair that she gelled to make it look like she had a porcupine on top of her head. You can’t miss her. She definitely stands out in a crowd. And she’s funny about her sneakers.”

“How so?”

“She has a dozen pairs of white sneakers, and if she gets a scuff mark, she throws a tantrum.”

“That’s gotta be her.” Hayley looked at the time. “I’ll pull up a satellite map on the Internet, and you can show me where she lives.”

“Why don’t we go for a drive,” Salma said, “and I’ll show you exactly where the house is.”

Kitally got up, ready to go, but Hayley hesitated, probably conflicted about having a pregnant teen as a ride-along.

“I need to get out of here,” Salma said. “I haven’t been outside since you two brought me here.”

“My car?” Kitally asked.

“I just filled my tank,” Hayley said. “We’ll take the Chevy.”

Hayley and her beloved hunk of junk
, Kitally thought, but she gave her a one-handed salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”

They took the ramp to US 50 West and continued on to Business 80 toward West Sacramento. Kitally was sitting in the passenger seat, and she turned to the side to look at Salma. “How are you feeling?”

She rubbed her belly. “Fine.”

“You look like you’re ready to explode. How does it feel to have a person growing inside you?”

Hayley shook her head at Kitally’s question but said nothing.

“It’s a strange sensation,” Salma said. “Especially when the baby kicks like it wants out.”

“Bizarre,” Kitally agreed.

“Yeah, it used to do somersaults, I swear, but now that there’s less room in there, it sort of hurts when it pushes its feet into my ribs.”

“Ouch.”

It was quiet for a moment before Salma said, “So when’s Lizzy’s baby due?”

“What do you mean?” Kitally asked.

“She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Hayley frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. Seems obvious. Every little smell makes her sick to her stomach, she hardly eats, and she has a definite baby bump.”

Kitally looked at Hayley. “Do you think she could be?”

“No. I think Salma has baby on the brain.” Hayley looked into the rearview mirror. “No offense.”

Salma smiled. “No offense taken. Besides, I know I’m right. Everything I said, plus her mood swings and the stuff she eats.”

“She did turn down a Rice Krispies Treat the other day,” Kitally said. “And come to think of it, she doesn’t drink coffee anymore. I thought that was odd.”

“Take the next exit,” Salma told Hayley.

In another few minutes they were on the 1600 block of Madrone Avenue. Unfamiliar turf for Kitally. All three of them were quiet as Salma pointed and told Hayley to take a left.

“Never mind,” Salma said. “That might be her up ahead.”

Sure enough, a skinny girl dressed in black jeans and a dark sweatshirt with white spiky hair was heading for the gas station on the corner.

Hayley pulled into the gas station just ahead of the girl and told Kitally to roll down her window. “Hey, you,” Hayley called.

Unconcerned, the girl turned toward them and strolled over to the window. “What’s going on?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where we could find some weed, would you?”

“I might.” She leaned lower so that she could see all the way to the backseat. She pointed a finger toward Salma. “Don’t I know you?”

Salma’s eyes widened. “I don’t think so.”

The girl snapped her fingers. “You’re Jane’s friend, Salma. Why don’t you girls wait right here while I head inside and buy some smokes?” She smiled and then touched the collar of Kitally’s blouse. “I like your shirt.”

“Thanks.”

“There’s a decent party happening a few blocks away,” the girl said, walking backward toward the mini-mart. “Maybe you can give me a ride.”

“Sure thing,” Kitally said. After she watched the girl disappear inside the mini-mart, she said, “We’ll give her a ride straight to the police station on Jefferson Boulevard.”

Hayley looked over her shoulder at Salma. “So that’s the same girl, right?”

“That’s her. She hasn’t changed a bit,” Salma said. “If we’re giving her a ride, we need to be careful. That girl has a mean temper, and there’s no telling what she might do.”

Kitally looked at Hayley. “We found the Ghost. Should I go inside and keep an eye on her?”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

Before Kitally could get out of the car, Hayley grabbed her arm. “Never mind.” She gestured toward the parking lot behind the building. The girl was sprinting across it. “Looks like she’s making a run for it. Buckle up.”