Loose Ends (18 page)

Marcie's face paled. “How do you know about that?”

“We know a lot of things. We also believe the same people who killed Crystal think you know too much. They're going to kill you too.”

Marcie's mouth twitched, then she shook her head and replied, “I don't believe you! You're just saying that!”

“Marcie! Please! Think about what I've said! Talk to me and I'll make sure nobody hurts you. We'll look after you. Think about what happened to Crystal!”

Marcie was silent for a brief moment, then slowly shook her head.

“If you won't help me with who murdered your friend, then at least save your own life!”

“I can look after myself.” Her wide eyes and trembling lips revealed she knew she couldn't.

“Come on, Marcie! Use your head!”

“I'm gettin' out,” she said, opening the door.

“Marcie!” shouted Danny, grabbing her arm. “Believe me! I know what I'm saying!”

“Let go!” she wailed. “If I'm not under arrest, you can't do this!”

“Look, think about what I've said. I want to help you, I really do. Take my card. It's got my cell number. If you change your mind you'll know how to reach me.”

Marcie reluctantly put the card in her purse and then got out of the car.

“Marcie,” said Danny, before she closed the door, “I hope you saved the little glass mouse Crystal gave you, 'cause there's not much else left of her.”

Marcie's eyes started to water, then she slammed the door and walked back to the mouth of the alley.

The hours slowly ticked by. Marcie stared at her watch to make sure it hadn't quit. She kept thinking about Danny. Was he telling the truth? How did he know so much?

His face looked familiar. She was sure he had been coming and going from the BW.
Should I tell Red? What if she thinks I squealed?

She took his card out of her purse and looked at it before stuffing it back inside.
He said he'd look after me … but look what happened to the guy in the alley when he ratted out!
She looked at the crystal mouse in her purse, then quickly closed it.

Almost midnight and still no customers. Typical Monday … when things are dead.

She saw headlights coming down the alley from behind the hotel. A dark-coloured pickup truck came to a stop. The headlights partially blinded her, but she could make out the silhouette of a figure gesturing to her from behind the steering wheel. She walked around to the passenger side, putting one foot on the running board as she stuck her face up to the open window.

“Hey, mister, looking to party?” she asked with a smile. Her smile vanished when she saw that the man was wearing a ski mask that hid all but his eyes and mouth.

She stood transfixed as the barrel of a shotgun rose toward her face. Abruptly, the shotgun jerked to a stop when it caught in the seatbelt harness.

The man pulled it free and Marcie screamed and turned her face as she started to tumble to the ground. The roar from the shotgun echoed up the alley as the truck careened wildly out into the street and disappeared.

Danny answered his cellphone. Two minutes after that, Jack and Danny pulled up to the curb a few blocks away from the Black Water. There was a telephone booth nearby, but it was empty. Seconds later, a figure crawled out from under a parked car and ran toward them.

Jack watched her yank open the back door of the car and clamber inside. She was saturated with urine, rain, and mud. Jack noted her face around her eyes. It was dry.
The dirt and dust hadn't been stained. As scared as she was, she hadn't cried.

How hard has she become? Is she already like so many others down here whose brains protect them from their world by shutting out any emotion that causes pain? Completely incapable of any real feelings?

She looked out the back window of the car and then glanced out the side windows.

“You're safe now, Marcie,” said Danny. “This is Jack Taggart, my partner.”

Marcie turned to stare out the back window. “Marcie! You're safe! You really are,” said Jack. The gruff tone of his voice caught her attention. She looked at him for the first time, then said, “I know you! You were with Red a couple weeks ago! When that guy who ratted got killed in the back alley!”

“I was. Red doesn't know who I really am.”

Marcie paused for a moment, then said, “You said somethin' that made Red take me off the street for a while.”

“I tried to help. Sorry there wasn't anything else I could do.”

Marcie stared briefly into his eyes, then her body relaxed and she held her head in her hands and wept.

Jack looked at Danny and said, “Let's go to my apartment. She can have a shower and warm up while I wash her clothes. Then we'll talk.”

“We could take her to my house. Susan wouldn't mind.”

“No,” replied Jack quietly. “If things don't work out, I don't want anyone knowing where you live. It's easier for me to change apartments than for you to sell your house.”

“Are we going to call Social Services?” asked Danny. “I'm not going with them!” wailed Marcie. “They got people in there who tell them stuff. I know, 'cause
Red told me! You make me go there and I'll just run away. I mean it!”

“Take it easy,” replied Jack. “Who do you mean when you say ‘they'? You said, ‘They got people in there.'”

“Bikers,” she sobbed, “Satans Wrath.”

He looked at Danny and whispered, “I believe her.”

It was two hours later when Marcie stepped out of a warm shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and peeked out the bathroom door.

“Your clothes are on my bed,” yelled Jack from the kitchen. “I didn't iron them, but they're clean. I just took them out of the dryer; they're probably still warm. I also put one of my shirts on the bed. Put it on, too.”

Minutes later, Marcie walked into the kitchen. She looked flustered and gestured with her arms. She had rolled up the sleeves several times, but they still hung down to her wrists. The tail of Jack's shirt hung to her knees.

“Don't worry about it,” said Jack. “It looks better than the tank top.”

Marcie's face flushed and she sat down at the table.

“How do you like your eggs?” asked Jack, opening the refrigerator.

“I — I'm not hungry,” she replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Thank you for washing my clothes. I was so scared I pissed … I mean wet myself.”

“So who tried to kill you, Marcie?” asked Jack, while dumping a package of bacon into a frying pan. “You said somebody took a shot at you. Do you know who it was? Did you see their faces or get a licence number of the car?”

“It wasn't a car, it was a truck. It was just one guy. He was wearing a ski mask. I didn't see any licence plate, but I think it was a black truck, or maybe blue.”

Marcie drew her feet up onto the chair and wrapped her arms around herself as she started to tremble. “I don't know how he missed me. It was really close! It must have gone over the top of my head, just as I turned and fell.”

“Do you have any idea who it was?” asked Jack.

“No, but it was a biker.”

Jack and Danny exchanged a quick glance. Jack asked, “How do you know? You said you couldn't see him too well.”

“Well, I just know. That's who killed Crystal, 'cause she was runnin' out on them. Red told me I was lucky I didn't go with her or they'd have killed me, too.”

“Do you know who killed her?” asked Jack.

Marcie shook her head. “I don't know. I hardly ever saw them. Just one guy. He's really big and has a grey goatee. Red told me we all work for Satans Wrath. They charge all the girls a hundred bucks a day. She said they'd kill us if we try to leave owin' them money.”

Marcie looked over at Danny and said, “Crystal did want me to go with her.”

“She liked you,” said Danny.

“She was my friend,” admitted Marcie, starting to weep.

“Try to relax,” said Jack. “I want you to tell us everything from the beginning. Why you left home. Who your relatives are. How you met Red. I want to know everything that's ever happened to you, including things you've heard or saw. How much dope you're using … everything. Understand?”

Marcie wiped the tears from her eyes. “It's gonna take a long time.”

“That's okay,” said Jack. “We want all the details.” He looked at the frying pan and knew the smell of bacon wafting through the apartment would be hard to
resist. “Are you sure you won't change your mind on some breakfast? It'll help warm you up.”

“Well, okay, thanks. Maybe a little,” replied Marcie, giving Jack a quick smile.

It was one o'clock in the afternoon before Marcie finished telling everything she could about herself, including what happened the night she was taken to a motel and what she knew about everyone else.

Danny went to the office and returned with two large photo albums.

“I want you to look through these pictures very carefully,” said Jack. “They're photographs of every known member of Satans Wrath living in British Columbia. I want to see if you can recognize if it was one of them who drove you to the cabin.”

“If he's in here, I'll know him.”

Marcie turned just two pages before sitting up rigidly in the chair.

“That's him!” She stabbed at the picture with her finger. “That's the guy right there!”

“Are you sure?” asked Danny.

Marcie glared at Danny. “Of course I'm sure! I'll never forget his face. Never!”

Jack took the book and looked at the picture. “Randy Bennett, alias Wizard. He's the president of the west-side chapter.”

He thought about the significance of this. An executive member of Satans Wrath wouldn't act as a pimp for some young girl or supply drugs to anyone who wasn't a club member. Those jobs would be left for more expendable members. Whomever Wizard drove Marcie to meet in the cabin must be so important, or secret, that he wouldn't delegate the job to someone else.

Jack looked at Marcie.
How small and pathetic she looks. Life has dealt her a pretty dirty hand … yet there is still a spark of stubbornness in her. She's not the type to give up easily.

“Good going, Marcie. I'm proud of you.”

“You're proud of me?” She looked surprised.

“Yes, I am. You're a fighter. You've been through a hell of a lot. Right now, though, I think you should go in there and get to bed. You've been through enough for one day!”

“What are you goin' to do with me? Like, I can't stay here. You've only got one bedroom. My grandma's in a nursing home, so I can't stay with her.”

“Trust me,” replied Jack, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “We won't toss you out on the street. We are your friends. Real friends. I want you to remember that.”

Marcie smiled. “Thanks. For cops … I mean police, you guys are really nice.”

“Get some sleep; we'll figure something out.”

An hour later Jack peeked in the bedroom and saw she was asleep. When he returned to the living room, Danny asked, “Do you think she's honest about only using dope a few times?”

“I saw her arms when you went to the office. She pushed up her sleeves to wash the dishes. She didn't have much in the way of needle marks. She told us about everything else, so I don't think she would lie about that.”

“You made her wash the dishes after what she's been through!”

“She insisted on washing while I dried. I think she wanted me to see her arms, to show she was telling the truth.”

“She's a spunky kid. Most adults would be in a psych ward by now if they'd been through what she has.”

“She's a tough little character. Pretty sharp, too. I also asked her if she told anyone about you being a cop. She said she didn't. She was too scared.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I can still give you inside cover.”

“I'll meet Red tomorrow and try to arrange to meet her source later in the week.”

“So Eddy Trimble rides again.”

“A little longer, then he'll disappear.”

Danny pointed toward the bedroom and said, “I still can't help but wonder how she would have turned out if she had been raised by a real parent instead of a monster. I hope she's not so screwed up now that it's too late.”

Jack nodded in agreement.

“Too bad she doesn't know who is supplying Red or who planted the bomb under Crystal's car. Maybe it's that Wizard guy.”

“I'm definitely going to take a personal interest in him,” said Jack. “But before
justice
is served on Wizard, I'm going find out who molested her in the cabin. From her description, it didn't sound like a biker.”

Danny wondered what Jack's definition of justice was. He cleared his throat and said, “She said something, that he called her cutesy, or something about, ‘Cutesy, it's your turn now.' Was he talking to her, or was he talking to the dog?”

“I don't know. I don't think she knew. The guy was smart enough to avoid DNA.”

“Probably been busted before.”

“Maybe.” Jack leaned forward and whispered to Danny, “I don't want to leave her here alone, so I'll get you to return the truck. Don't forget my ski mask. It's under the seat.”

“Will do.”

Jack got to his feet. “Hand me that piece of paper with the name of her grandmother's nursing home. I'm going to make a call.”

Moments later, Jack returned to the living room and looked at Danny without speaking.

“What is it? You look upset?”

“She no longer has a grandmother. She died in her sleep two weeks ago.”

Danny paused as the message sank in, then replied, “The poor kid. As if she hasn't been through enough. We'll have to call Social Services!”