Hold Still (16 page)

TWENTY-EIGHT

October 31st

The bus shelter at Ninth
and Market, which was just a rectangular, three-walled, plexiglass-and-steel cove, was crowded at three forty in the afternoon. Three different buses stopped there in ten- to twenty-minute intervals. People stood beneath the shelter, trying to keep from touching one another in the tiny space. They studied their phones or tablets or listened to iPods to avoid any chance of interaction with their fellow passengers. There were three secretaries in skirts and nylons with running sneakers on their feet and purses damn near as big as steamer trunks. Larry had already dipped his chin as he and Angel passed to see if any of them carried anything of value in their giant purses, but he didn’t find anything of interest.

The smokers stood outside the shelter, some of them behind it where Larry and Angel leaned against the scarred plexiglass. On one pane someone had grafittied RRAZR U REAL in black spray paint. Someone else had spread a wad of pink gum over the double
R
in RRAZR. Angel tapped his wrist and hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
If he doesn’t show soon, we’re out of here.

Larry nodded. A young white blonde woman—wearing the tightest damn business dress Larry had ever seen—walked under the shelter. She was directly on the other side of the plexiglass. Her wine-colored dress hugged every curve on her body. Her breasts bobbed up and down as she moved, making them look as if they were fighting to get free of the V-neck. Her thick legs were covered in nude-colored nylons, and on her feet she wore UGGs with fur rims. She leaned back into the shelter, her ass pressing against the glass. Larry gave a low whistle.

“Damn,” he said.

Angel looked down, where the outline of the cleft of her ass was just visible beneath the skintight dress. He smiled and cupped his genitals. The woman talked loudly on her cell phone, completely oblivious to their stares. “I told him, ‘You are not going there with her.’ She is trying to get in his pants, and damn if I’m going to let her.” Her litany of complaints about the woman who was apparently tempting her boyfriend went on unabated. She went silent when Face crossed the front of the bus shelter. He didn’t acknowledge her or the fifty-year-old secretary beside her, who was much more subtle in her ogling.

Larry glanced at Angel, who was rolling his eyes.
Women.
They couldn’t get enough of the guy—until he was nailing their hands into the floor. Larry snickered at the thought. Face sauntered up beside him so they were back-to-back. He pulled out a cell phone and pressed it to his ear. He spoke quietly, and Larry replied as though he were talking to Angel. Anyone spotting them would think Face was on his phone and that Larry and Angel were talking among themselves. No one passing by would connect them.

“I see you dumb shits made bail,” Face said.

Angel held up a middle finger behind Face’s back.

“You need to make this go away,” Larry said. “Making bail on reduced charges ain’t good enough.”

Face laughed. Larry could feel the quaking of Face’s shoulders as he backed up a step closer to them. “If fat-ass here had just stuck to the story, you would’ve been fine. It’s not my problem he’s got shit for brains.”

Larry tried to keep his cool. The muscles in his shoulder blades began to knot. Angel made a slitting motion across his throat. Larry swallowed. “If you want us to do another job for you, you will pull some strings and make this go away.”

Silence. Face was rarely at a loss for words. Larry knew they had him by the balls. Almost the only thing the dude cared about was nailing girls into the floor. It was like an addiction. The more he did it, the more he wanted to do it. But he wouldn’t do it without them. They were his muscle, he always said. That was bullshit, of course. Face was no slouch. He was buffed out and didn’t need help subduing a woman. He’d also claimed he needed them to get the girls—also bullshit. Women were creaming in their pants over this fucker. No, Face needed them because he liked to watch. He was one sick fuck, but he kept them in it—money, drugs, whatever they needed. He had connections. That was why they’d hooked up with him in the first place.

“Okay,” Face finally conceded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“And there’s one more thing,” Larry added.

Face chuckled softly. “You’re a demanding fucker, aren’t you?”

“Only when motherfuckers like you don’t do what they promised.”

Angel nudged Larry with his elbow as a young college-aged couple came around to the back of the packed bus shelter to wait. They stood on the other side of Face. They talked quietly enough, but they were too close for the three men to carry on their cell phone ruse. A tense moment passed. Angel sauntered away. Larry turned and bumped Face hard with his shoulder. The cell phone flew out of Face’s hand, clattering to the ground. The back of it snapped off and the battery fell out.

“Oh, man,” Larry said, his voice oozing fake sincerity. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. I apologize, man.”

He and Face knelt at the same time to retrieve the pieces of the phone. The young couple fell silent and watched them warily as if they might start swinging at one another. Face glared at Larry as they stood. A muscle in his chiseled jaw twitched. “It’s okay,” he said with a forced smile. He held out his palm for Larry to return the battery.

Larry dropped the piece into his hand, stepping closer, his back to the young couple now. He held Face’s gaze and whispered one word before walking off in the direction Angel had gone.

“Fox.”

TWENTY-NINE

October 31st

Overnight, the uncharacteristically warm weather
had given way to autumn, complete with gusty winds. A cold blast of air batted Jocelyn as she stepped out of her Explorer. She held her cell phone pinned between her cheek and shoulder as she opened the back door to get Olivia from her car seat.

Inez’s voice was unusually loud in Jocelyn’s ear. “
Phil
is the ADA on the Warner and Donovan case?”

“Can you believe that shit?”

“Mommy!” Olivia gasped as Jocelyn unfastened the seat belt.

Jocelyn grimaced. “Sorry, baby,” she said. “That was a bad word.”

“Actually, I can,” Inez replied. “Assholes stick together. I swear they have some kind of secret club.”

Jocelyn snorted. “Yeah, initiation consists of fu—screwing over some unsuspecting woman—figuratively or literally.”

“Did you call him?”

Jocelyn lifted Olivia out of her seat and carried her across the Wawa minimarket parking lot. “No. I know him. He won’t take my call right away, and then he’ll wait two days to call me back. I don’t need him thinking I’m calling for personal reasons. His paralegal said he’ll be in court tomorrow around one. I’ll just surprise him there.”

“I’d love to be there for that,” Inez said, chuckling lightly.

“Are you coming over for trick-or-treating?”

“Yeah, Raquel and I will meet you at your house in a half hour.”

“Mommy, can I have a milkshake?” Olivia asked as Jocelyn set Olivia on the ground and ended her call with Inez.

She brushed Olivia’s hair with her hand and steered her through the Wawa doors. “Sure.”

“Wawa has strawberry milkshakes,” Olivia said, fingers worrying Lulu’s ears. “I want strawberry.”

“Okay, but don’t let me forget the bread.”

The Wawa was crowded as usual. It was the only Wawa in their neighborhood, and the only minimarket worth its salt. For years it had been across the street with a parking lot so small, it defied explanation. Someone very intelligent had come up with the idea of moving it to a much more spacious lot, the site of a long-defunct car dealership. The result was better parking and a larger Wawa but even more customers.

Jocelyn guided Olivia over to the frozen drink machine and let her pull the frozen strawberry cup out of the freezer. Jocelyn peeled back the lid.

“Look, Mommy. It’s the same color as Lulu!” Olivia said, rocking up onto the balls of her feet and pointing to the pink concoction inside the cup.

“It sure is,” Jocelyn agreed. She put the cup into the blending machine and pushed the Blend button. As the cup ascended into the machine, she chose a lid and threaded a straw through it. The machine made a grinding, whirring sound. Jocelyn smiled at Olivia and arched a brow. “Does that mean Lulu is a strawberry bear?”

Olivia grinned. “She’s not a strawberry bear, Mommy. She’s just a bear.”

“I don’t know. I think I should taste her and see.”

Olivia giggled convulsively as Jocelyn bent and pretended to bite Lulu’s leg. Her giggles rose to high-pitched squeals. Jocelyn looked around to see if they had drawn stares from the other customers.

That’s when she saw him.

He stood across the aisle, at the coffee kiosk. His face was still swollen and bruised. When he smiled at her, she could see the metal bracing in his mouth holding his jaw in place.

Henry Richards.

What the hell was he doing in her neighborhood? In her Wawa?

She didn’t notice how hard her heart was thundering until she felt Olivia’s little hand tugging hers. “Mommy, Mommy, it’s done. Can I put the lid on?”

Instinctively, Jocelyn scooped Olivia up without taking her eyes from Henry. He took a step toward them.

“Don’t,” Jocelyn said. The edge in her voice froze him. He looked momentarily confused.

Once again, Jocelyn wished she had her gun. She’d have to start carrying an off-duty weapon.

People passed between them, oblivious.

“You’re in violation of a restraining order,” Jocelyn said.

Henry laughed, his gnarled smile framing his wire-gritted teeth.
“Like I give a shit.”

Jocelyn glanced around. Surely, he wouldn’t try anything in a crowded minimarket.

“Mommy—”

“Just a minute, honey.”

Jocelyn panned the store again, hoping to see a uniformed officer. The Wawa was directly across from the Fifth District. Didn’t any of them need coffee or snacks?

She swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. She reached for the milkshake and handed it to Olivia. Then she reached for the lid. Olivia took it from her and fit it onto the top of the cup.

“What do you want?” she asked Richards.

Henry reached inside his jacket. Jocelyn’s voice turned sharp and loud like the report of a gun. “Don’t,” she said again, this time drawing the attention of several people around them. She turned her body so that as little of Olivia was exposed to him as possible. Again, Henry froze, nervousness slackening the sneer on his face. He looked around at the faces now gaping at him.

Jocelyn lowered her voice and narrowed her eyes. Even though she didn’t want to be near him, she stepped closer. “Unless you want me to break your face again, you’ll take your hand out of your pocket and get out of here.”

Slowly, he removed his hand. He put both hands up, trying to smile again. The seam where Jocelyn had split his lip cracked. A small bead of blood formed.

Olivia grew heavy in Jocelyn’s arms. She shifted her hold, jostling Olivia. The strawberry milkshake toppled to the floor, landing with a splat. A Wawa clerk who’d been watching the exchange between Jocelyn and Henry rushed over. Olivia wailed, fat teardrops rolling down her face. “I’m sorry, Mommy!”

“It’s okay, honey,” Jocelyn soothed. “We’ll clean it up and get another one.”

The clerk smiled at Olivia. “Don’t worry, sweetie. That’s what we have mops for. Why don’t you get yourself another one? No charge.”

Jocelyn mumbled a thank-you to the woman, trying to force a smile. When she looked back at Henry, he was gone.

The clerk already had the milkshake machine a-whir as another worker came out to clean up the milkshake. Jocelyn’s gaze swiveled around the minimarket, but she didn’t see Henry. The clerk gave her a napkin, and she dabbed Olivia’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry about this,” Jocelyn told the clerk. “I’ll pay for both.”

The woman smiled, her eyes warm and sympathetic. “Oh, sweetie, don’t you worry about it.” She held out a crudely folded origami crane. “Is this yours?”

“Yes,” Jocelyn said. It wasn’t hers, of course. But it was meant for her. Her hand trembled as she took it.

THIRTY

October 31st

At home, Inez got the
girls ensconced in the living room with a pile of Lalaloopsies on the floor and the Disney Channel on television. They had dumped their Halloween costumes on the coffee table and were helping one another get dressed up. Jocelyn raced down the basement steps and flipped the light on in the laundry room. The crane Kevin had found on the day of her carjacking was still there, nestled among spare change and gum wrappers in the little plastic basket she kept next to her washer.

Back upstairs, she and Inez lined them up on the kitchen counter and compared them. They were nearly identical. Inez unfolded them and smoothed the pages out on Jocelyn’s kitchen counter. “Oh, shit,” she said.

“What?” Jocelyn said, looking over her shoulder. “Oh my God.”

Side by side, the message was obvious, written in ballpoint pen. One of them read, “Back off,” and the other read, “Bitch.”

Inez turned toward Jocelyn. “Where’d you get the first one?”

“It was in my car after the carjacking. Kevin found it on the front seat. He thought it was Simon’s, but Simon hasn’t been in my vehicle for months.”

“So it was definitely Richards. Which means the carjacking wasn’t random, and since he keeps showing up in places you frequent, that means he’s been stalking you.”

“I don’t know him, though. I never saw him before that day,” Jocelyn pointed out. “What does he want me to back off from? What does he think I’m doing to him? And besides that, what was his plan? He took the car. Why leave a crane on the front seat of a car that I no longer have?”

Inez fished two wineglasses out of Jocelyn’s cabinet and filled them with a cabernet-merlot from the fridge. “Numbnuts like Richards rarely do anything that makes sense. He’s a junkie, Joce. Maybe he has you confused with a detective in some other district who did bust him. Maybe he’s got a court date coming up and thinks you’re going to testify against him. Maybe someone you did bust made him do it. Maybe he was going to drive the car around for a while and leave it somewhere. Or maybe he was just supposed to drop the crane in the window, but he saw the opportunity to steal the car and took it. Eventually the car would have been recovered. You sure you never arrested the kid?”

Jocelyn took a sip of wine. It was bitter on her tongue. “Okay, so I don’t remember every arrest I ever made, but I’m pretty positive I’ve never picked up that kid before. Even so, what would he want me to back off from—testifying against him in court? When we had him for the carjacking, he didn’t have any hearings pending. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Junkies don’t do things that make sense,” Inez repeated. “Who are you scheduled to testify against? Maybe Richards is doing someone else’s dirty work.”

Jocelyn sighed and tried to think through all the cases she had pending. There was nothing particularly incendiary. No suspect she could think of who would go to such lengths to prevent her from appearing in court. She shrugged. “I really can’t think of anyone.”

“Well, we’ll check out all of Richards’s associates, see what pops.” Inez peeked around the corner into the living room. When they heard the knock on the door, both women jumped. Jocelyn’s wine sloshed around in her glass, spilling on her wrist. “That’s gotta be Kev,” Inez said.

Jocelyn looked through her peephole before she opened the door. Kevin smiled grimly at her and stepped inside.

“Uncle Kevin,” Olivia cried, jumping up from the floor and dashing into his arms. He scooped her up and held her on his hip.

The corners of Kevin’s eyes crinkled when he smiled at Olivia. Briefly, Jocelyn wondered why he had never had children. He probably would have been a good dad. But he made a pretty fun uncle.

“How are you girls?” he asked, winking at Raquel. “Look at you beautiful princesses! Where did Olivia and Raquel go?”

“I’m Rapunzel,” Raquel said, twirling in her purple dress.

“Did you get me a treat?” Olivia asked pointedly.

“Olivia,” Jocelyn chided.

She gave Jocelyn a blank what-did-I-do look as Kevin fished inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of Skittles. Olivia squealed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. She clasped the bag as he placed her back on the floor and straightened the tiara that threatened to tumble off her head. “You have to share,” he called after her. But she was already seated among the pile of Lalaloopsies next to Raquel, trying to open the Skittles. Jocelyn didn’t even bother to police Olivia’s candy consumption. It was Halloween, after all. Instead, the three of them went into the kitchen and spoke in hushed tones.

“I pulled the surveillance from the Wawa,” Kevin said. “We’ve got him on tape violating the restraining order. I’m going to have him picked up. We’ll see what he has to say for himself. Take me through it again.”

Jocelyn recapped the encounter with Richards and showed Kevin the message in the cranes. He studied the words as if he were trying to read something in a foreign language. Finally, he said, “It never occurred to me to open it at the hospital that night.”

“You thought it was from Simon. Why would you open it?” Jocelyn said.

He shrugged and rubbed a hand over his scalp. “You never met this guy before?”

Jocelyn shook her head. She felt very tired suddenly and wished she hadn’t had the wine. Inez sidled up to her and let Jocelyn lean into her side. Jocelyn wanted to lay her head on her friend’s shoulder but resisted the urge.

“I’ll come up with a list of Richards’s known associates and see if you recognize any of them. When we pick him up, we’ll see what he has to say about these—and what he wants you to back off from.” Kevin folded them carefully and put them in his pocket. He shot a glance at Inez. “You staying over here tonight?”

Inez slid an arm around Jocelyn’s shoulder. “Yeah. We’re going trick-or-treating and then coming back here. The girls love it when we have a slumber party.”

Kevin nodded. Jocelyn walked him out to the porch after he said good-bye to the girls and exclaimed some more over their costumes. “Thanks, Kev,” she said.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it, Rush.” He started down the steps and paused on the landing. He looked back up at her, squinting against the glare of her porch light. “In the meantime, you and Inez better take your guns with you trick-or-treating.”