“Then who the hell…?” Wrath paused when they saw him go back to the car, alone. “It’s the right car.”
They watched as he got into it and drove away.
Wrath checked his phone, with his hands cupping it so the light wouldn’t show. “Looks like he’s heading back to the house—and taking the most direct route,” he said a couple of seconds later.
“Let’s talk to the girls.” Reaper rounded the corner, walking swiftly to the doorway.
The younger girl eyed him, shaking her head. “Don’t think you’re getting a freebie, just ’cause you’re on the down and out, dude.”
Reaper shook his head. “Wouldn’t think of asking. I would like to know what the man you were talking to said, however.”
“What business is it of yours?” the second girl asked.
Wrath joined them, causing both girls to tense up and back up to the top step. He said, with a slight smile, “Ever hear of Reaper?”
“Yeah, and?”
“Now you can tell your friends you actually met him.” Wrath nodded at Reaper.
“Uh-huh. Reaper’s big and tough and wear’s leathers and for damned sure, he’s not him.”
Reaper took out his phone, punched in a number, and handed it to her. She looked at it, then him. “What?”
“You know who Zip is?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Talk to him. Ask him about me.”
Putting the phone to her ear, she said, “Zip? Yeah, it’s me, Dani. There’s a guy here claims he’s Reaper but…” She nodded, looking up at Reaper. “Yeah, I guess. Okay. Thanks.” She hung up, giving back the phone. “From what he said, you’re Reaper. So, umm…”
“The man you were talking to. What did he want?”
Dani snorted. “Three guesses.”
Reaper chuckled. “That I figured. But why did he leave?”
“’Cause the word’s out we shouldn’t get in any cars with a john, and he wasn’t willing to go down to the alley.”
“He wasn’t a happy camper when we told him no deal,” the younger girl told him. “Said he’d pay Dani fifty to blow him while he did me.”
“I’d pay to see that. All three of you in the front seat,” Wrath muttered.
“It’s possible.” Dani grinned. “Want us to show you?”
“Umm, I’ll pass thanks.”
“Okay, question time,” Reaper said. “Did you notice anything about him, like jewelry, an accent, anything that would make him stand out if we run into him?”
The younger one shook her head.
Dani started to then frowned. “Yeah. He had a couple of rings. One was gold, wide, with some design on it. On his”—she looked at her hands—“his left hand.”
“A wedding band?” Wrath asked.
“Maybe? It was on the right finger. The other one looked like the kind you get when you graduate. Not that I ever did, but I met a guy once. He had a college ring with a stone and the name of the school. The ring this guy wore was like that, with a square red stone maybe the size of my thumbnail, and words around it. I couldn’t read them but…” Dani shrugged.
“That’s still a big help. Anything else?”
The younger girl chewed her lip. “I think maybe he dyes his hair. It was sorta red but when he was under the light, I could see black roots.”
“You’re very observant,” Reaper told her with a smile.
She blushed, looking down at her feet.
“You both are. Now, if I were you, I’d find somewhere else to hang out, just in case. And if you ever see him again… Do you have phones?”
“I do,” Dani replied.
“Good. If you see him, call me.” He told her the number to his throwaway, watching her program it into her phone. Then, after thanking the girls again for their help, he and Wrath went back to the car. He made it a point to drive by where the girls had been and was glad to see they must have taken his advice because they were gone.
“If that wasn’t Kinsley,” Wrath said as they headed back to Kinsley’s house, “who the hell was it and why was he driving Kinsley’s car?”
“If we knew the answer to that, we’d be well on our way to stopping him. He’s obviously got access to the car, whether Kinsley knows it or not.”
“So probably a friend or acquaintance of his.”
“Somehow I doubt it’s a friend, but it has to be someone who knows his habits to know he can use the car without Kinsley being aware that it’s gone. Perhaps someone who lives in the neighborhood.”
“That’s definitely possible, given the fact that our perp tries to grab girls well after midnight.” Wrath tapped a fingernail against his teeth. “The Facebook page we found is a fake.”
“Unless Kinsley knows what’s going on, I’d say that’s a given. Why pick him to be the patsy?”
“Maybe I should have a talk with him, but not as Wrath.”
Reaper chuckled. “Yeah. Somehow, looking the way you do now, I doubt he’d do more than slam the door in your face.”
They were on Kinsley’s street now. As they drove by his house, they saw the brown car parked on the carport.
“Let’s get back home,” Wrath said. “I’ll get ready for work then pay Kinsley a visit before I go in.”
“At six-thirty in the morning?”
“It might shock him enough he’ll be willing to think and talk.”
* * * *
Kinsley’s car was still on the carport and light shown through the curtains in one of the front windows when Dallas arrived, so he knew someone was home. He parked, went to the front door and rang the bell. It took a minute before he heard someone unlock the door, then it opened as widely as the chain would allow.
“Officer, can I help you?” the man, presumably Peter Kinsley, asked.
“I have a few questions for you about your car, Mr. Kinsley,” Dallas replied.
“My car?” Since he didn’t deny he was Kinsley, Dallas knew he had the right man.
“The Chevy Malibu on your carport.”
“I…” The man hesitated before closing the door. It opened fully a second later and Kinsley, dressed in a bus driver’s uniform stood there. “I’m pretty sure my tags are up to date,” he said.
“They are. This has to do with something else. May I come in?”
With obvious reluctance, Kinsley stepped aside. “I have to leave in a few minutes to get to work.”
“This shouldn’t take long,” Dallas told him, entering into the small, very neat living room. He took out his notebook, ostensibly reading something written in it. “We have a report that a car matching the description of yours, down to the license plate, was involved in a possible attempted kidnapping.”
Kinsley looked at him in shock. “You have to be kidding me!”
“No, sir. It happened two nights ago. Two young women were approached by a man driving your car. I would say you were the driver, except now that I see you, the description they gave the officers doesn’t match. Did you lend the car to someone? A friend or acquaintance?”
“Good Lord. No. No I didn’t. I wouldn’t because, if you must know, I don’t own the car. It belongs to my brother and he’s been letting me use it since mine was involved in a bad wreck a couple of months ago.” Kinsley grimaced. “Luckily, I wasn’t badly hurt, but the car was totaled and I can’t afford to buy a new one yet.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I have a question,” Kinsley said, frowning. “Since it’s in my brother’s name, how did you track it down to me?”
“We contacted him first. He told us about letting you use it.”
“Oh.” Kinsley’s shoulders slumped. “So now he thinks I’m—what?—out trying to molest young women or something?”
“No, sir,” Dallas replied with a smile. “The first thing he said, when he was asked about the car, was that you had it. At that point, the officer who talked to him implied that you had a few unpaid parking tickets and left it at that.”
“Thank God. But… How could someone be using it without my knowledge?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Dallas said. “According to the girls, it was around three a.m. when the incident happened. It’s possible that whoever the man was stole your car and returned it when he was unsuccessful. “
Kinsley frowned. “I…suppose he could, if he found the spare key I keep in one of those magnetic boxes in the wheel-well.”
“Not very smart, since that’s one of the first places a thief will check,” Dallas said dryly. “I should tell you, this isn’t the first time this has happened. Your car has been spotted at least twice before in Uptown. Always very early in the morning. Always where homeless girls…hang out.”
“In other words, girls who are selling themselves.”
“Yes.”
“Well it for damned sure wasn’t me driving, but I can’t think of anyone I know who would have borrowed the car without asking permission first. Besides which, everyone I know has a car of their own.”
“That doesn’t negate someone using yours. Do you have any enemies?”
Kinsley snorted. “I’m not the kind of guy who makes enemies. Unless you count someone I had to kick off my bus for causing trouble. I doubt they’d come looking for me to take my car so they can pick up streetwalkers.”
“True. What about your neighbors?”
“I don’t know them all that well, but doesn’t the same thing hold? Why steal my car to do this then return it later?” Kinsley glanced at the clock on the wall over the TV and grimaced. “Can we talk about this tonight? I have to get to work.”
Dallas told him that he couldn’t use his car for that, since the police would have to go over it for fingerprints.
Or I will, since I’m not here in an official capacity.
“I’ll give you a ride to your job, if you like. And I’ll need the keys to the car.”
With a sigh, Kinsley handed them over. “I hope you find something. Maybe I should just give it back to my brother. After all, I can ride the bus for free when I’m in uniform. I did that for a few days before Jeffery let me borrow the car.”
“Unless we find anything other than prints, and we might not find those if the thief is smart enough to wear gloves, you should be able to use it again tonight.”
“I’m getting a car alarm,” Kinsley stated adamantly. “On my way home. I should have had one to begin with but hell, it’s not mine, and not exactly new, so…”
“Under the circumstances, I’m sure the car is exactly what the perp was looking for. Nice, but it doesn’t stand out. Why don’t you grab what you need and I’ll take you to work.”
Ten minutes later, Dallas dropped him off at the bus company garage. “Give me your number,” he told Kinsley, “and I’ll call you as soon as we’re finished with the car.”
“Thanks.” Kinsley blew out a long breath. “I hope you catch whoever it is.”
“As do I,” Dallas agreed.
* * * *
As soon as he’d dropped Kinsley off at work, Dallas headed in to the station house, making it just in time for roll call. When it was over, he told Mike he’d be a minute, before going to pick up a fingerprint kit. Then he joined him at the car.
“What’s that for?” Mike asked as they took off.
“Umm, to lift prints from an object,” Dallas replied, straight-faced.
Mike gave him the finger. “I know that, but why do we need one?”
“I ran into a man I know from church,” Dallas said, fudging the truth a bit. “He said he thought someone was using his car without authorization, so I told him I’d see if I could get some prints off the steering wheel and run them. Probably won’t happen, but I figure it’s worth a try.”
“Did he report it?”
“No. He said he’d feel stupid if it turned out he was wrong. You know how people are.” Dallas gave Mike the address and they headed to Kinsley’s house. Taking the kit, Dallas unlocked Kinsley’s car then dusted the interior for prints. He found several relatively clear ones and used the lifting tape to capture them, putting the print on the tape onto a white index card. When he was satisfied he’d gotten a fair sample, he returned to the patrol car. “Unless the person borrowing the car is an idiot, these all probably belong to the owner, but it’s worth a shot.”
Going back to the station, Dallas turned the prints over to one of their technicians to run. He asked her to let him know as soon as she got a hit on any of them, then he and Mike went out on patrol.
* * * *
Zack was at the tail end of a meeting with a client when Alice buzzed him, saying he had a call from Mr. Comstock. He asked her to tell him he’d call in back in ten minutes and finished up with the client.
Then he dialed Dallas’ cell and was immediately greeted with, “Can you take a lunch break?”
After checking his schedule, Zack said he could in half an hour and they agreed to meet at a small diner they frequented occasionally, well outside of Uptown.
Zack arrived to find Dallas already had a booth at the back. “What did you do with Mike?” Zack asked as he slid in opposite Dallas.
“Told him I had a heavy lunch date with a guy I met at a club. He snickered, dropped me off and went home to eat lunch with his wife. He’s picking me up in half an hour.” Dallas hesitated, looking at the menu, even though Zack knew he had it memorized.
“What do you not want to tell me?” Zack asked with a small smile.
“I got prints off of Kinsley’s car and had them run. Most of them, of course, are his. But we got a hit on one that wasn’t. I called him to ask if he knew the man they belonged to. He said he didn’t.” He looked worriedly at Zack. “Okay, don’t shoot me, but I told Kinsley to file a report that his car was being used without his authorization.”
Zack nodded slowly, glad when the waitress appeared just then to take their orders. He needed time to process Dallas’ information. He wasn’t happy about it. Not that they knew who had been using the car, but the fact that, if he was right, the police would be on the case now. He had sort of known it was inevitable, but still…
It’s my job to keep the kids safe.
He sighed, and when the waitress left, he asked, “Who did the print belong to?”
“A known felon with a rap sheet a mile long. Mostly for loitering with intent to pick up a female for sexual purposes. Not too long ago, a girl filed a report on him, saying he tried to force her into his car. But his lawyer got him off on that one because she was a user as well as having been picked up a couple of times for propositioning men.”
“So now it’s out of our hands,” Zack said.
“Yeah. I get that you wanted to deal with this guy, but damn it, Zack, I’m a cop first, like it or not. We have the resources to find him and deal with him legally.”