Redeeming the Night (12 page)

Tarma looked similar to the Mother, except instead of being shiny, coal-black, her skin was a deep, forest green. Both of their auras were tinged with the blood of a recent kill.

No hesitation, absolutely no revulsion
, Ashley thought. She couldn’t let them see what she really thought, the fear she felt. The part of Eric inside her warmed, giving her strength.

“It’s been a while since I’ve hunted with someone that knows what she’s doing,” Ashley added as she leaned back a little and crossed her legs.

“Good. Then it’s settled.” The Mother stood and clasped both of Ashley’s hands, pulling her up with her. “Now, go fetch Nichole so we can get this unhappy part over with.” Then she released her.

At her cue, Ashley left the room.

The door had almost closed when she felt it being pulled back and open again. She glanced back, and what she saw caused her to lose her grip on the knob. Talons extended from the green scaled fingers that curled around the door from the inside.

Once Ashley stepped away from the door, the hand returned to the well-manicured appendage of her mentor. The seconds between releasing the door and seeing Tarma’s face were barely enough for Ashley to regain her composure.

“Ashley.” The woman’s smile chilled her as it never had before. “Would you mind telling Jessie to pick up some ice cream on her way home this evening?”

“Sure.” Ashley didn’t run but walked briskly to her bedroom. A quick scan told her there was nothing of value to salvage. Slipping a purse over her shoulder, she left.

The Mother was right about one thing: Nichole didn’t belong in the sisterhood. Now Ashley realized that she didn’t either. She swallowed and prepared to leave her home of forty years.

If either of those creatures caught wind of her connection to Eric, he would be in danger, too.

Ashley barely controlled her descent of the stairs. Running wouldn’t do, not if she were going to get Nichole. When she peeked into the front sitting room she found Nichole, hands folded, waiting.

Ashley tapped her shoulder and forced a smile. “Let’s go to lunch.”

“Ooh, that sounds lovely. But Tarma told me to wait.” Her shoulders slumped slightly. “They’re probably going to wipe my memory.”

She couldn’t let her anxiety show, and there was no way she could explain. “Before you forget me entirely would you mind if we had one last lunch first?”

The corners of Nichole’s lips quirked slightly.

“I know.” She reached for Nichole’s shoulder and steered her to the front door. “I’ll get it out of my system at lunch.”

Calmly, they walked to one of the sisterhood’s cars. She dare not run, though she had no idea what would happen if they were caught. She had a feeling that a last lunch wouldn’t fly with Tarma and the Mother.

When they were on the road, Nichole asked, “Where are we going for lunch?”

“Nowhere.” A side glance revealed a pout. “I had to get you out of there. I couldn’t take you upstairs.”

“Why? They were just going to erase my memory.”

“No, they weren’t.” Ashley had no idea where she intended to drive.

Silence.

“They want you dead,” Ashley said, pulling onto the freeway. Nichole needed to know the truth.

“Nonsense. I’m not a man. I’m one of the sisterhood, and a woman.”

“You’re not a member until your induction ceremony and as far as being a woman goes, I don’t think that matters anymore.”
If it ever did.
“They ordered me to kill you.”

Nichole exhaled slowly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Nichole’s eyes widened slightly, and she patted Ashley’s leg. “I know you’d never hurt me. Where are we going?”

Ashley bit her tongue. Had this situation arisen just a couple of days ago she very well might have served Nichole’s soul to the Mother on a silver platter.

“I haven’t a clue,” Ashley admitted. Even before she knew something sinister lay beneath the surface of Tarma and the Mother, she wouldn’t have thought it possible to run from the sisterhood. Now it was the only way she could see a future, for her or Nichole.

Eric worked to put Ashley’s morning visit aside. Aaron had agreed to let him review the original file of the murdered girl, Suzie Hogan. Even as he read the details of the case, Ashley came into his mind unbidden. Repeatedly, he pushed her image aside to focus on the folder in front of him. There would be plenty of time to work out the mysteries of that woman later.

The poor girl’s end began as a kidnapping.

Before Suzie’s disappearance, she lived at the Angola Center for Displaced Girls. According to the report, the last any adult saw of her was on her way to the school bus stop. No children were interviewed.

The report was functionary, written by an overworked individual and dictated by a similar person, both of whom most likely saw too many runaways to think anything strange in yet another young woman who decided life would be better on her own.

He needed to re-interview the staff at the center and the girl’s friends.

He made a quick call to Max, who agreed to play chauffeur and access card. With a single flash of Max’s badge the two of them were escorted through the hallways to the principal’s office. The walls were yellowed to the point of almost being brown around the corners and moldings. It reminded Eric of his neighbor’s house growing up. His friend’s parents smoked, and the tobacco stained everything. When they moved out, there were squares of blue on the green walls where the pictures had been removed. Time had its own color palette.

He could hear the murmur of voices as he and Max moved deeper into the building, and picked up the scent of stale coffee, pancakes, and maple syrup. Not the homiest place to grow up, but it beat living on the street. It was probably better than skipping around foster homes. His old partner would know.

They followed the elderly receptionist through a pair of glass French doors at the end of the yellow hall and entered the principal’s office. A sign beside the doors labeled it as belonging to
Dr. Lucy Callie, Principal
. Behind the heavy wooden desk sat a woman with tired eyes but a quick smile. “What can I do for you, Officer?”

Max shook her extended hand. “My associate, Detective Adams, has a couple questions for you regarding Suzie Hogan.”

Principal Callie tapped on her computer’s keyboard. “She’s one of our girls?”

“No, ma’am, at least not currently,” Max responded.

She abandoned her computer and tilted her head.

“Six months ago you had a runaway named Suzie Hogan,” Eric explained.

Now the rest of her face matched her eyes. “Unfortunately, we have a lot of girls come through here and far too many runaways. It’s difficult to remember them all.”

Eric held out a copy of the missing person’s report; the girl’s picture had been stapled in the top corner.

“Yes, I remember her. She wasn’t very happy here. Many of the girls aren’t. She talked about making her way to California to become an actress. I figured that’s where she went.”

“Do you have any of her belongings that weren’t stored with the missing person’s file?”

“No, but sometimes before the runaways leave, they pass on a belonging or two to their friends. You can talk to her roommates.”

“Could we see her room as well, please?”

Her brow furrowed a moment. “Of course.”

Eric nodded. It was possible that the girl’s belongings could harbor the scent of her abductor. Hopefully another clue would follow.

• • •

Instinct had Ashley driving through the city. She had no real direction but she knew she needed to hide Nichole in a place that the sisterhood normally wouldn’t go. Finally, she saw a light that called her like a beacon. Then she felt a pleasant tug. She pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be a school. She parked directly behind a marked police car. Close to even inept police would still be safer than in the middle of nowhere.

“I know this place,” Nichole said. “I was sent to live here after my parents died.”

Perhaps Nichole would be safe here. At least for a while. “Maybe they have a position available. Didn’t you used to be a cook?”

Nichole nodded. They entered the building and followed the long hallway. A few steps from the closed office door, Ashley wondered at the wisdom of seeking his company. “Maybe we should go.”

The door opened. Voices crept through before anyone was visible.

A squeal of delight sounded from Nichole just before she launched herself at the woman who stepped through the door. The woman endured the hug with a smile and patted Nichole’s blonde hair. “Dr. Callie.” Nichole squealed again.

Eric’s gaze met Ashley’s. It felt like he almost smiled, though his expression remained stern. She’d resumed the form similar to the one she usually took, a heart-shaped face and blue eyes with golden blonde hair. He’d never seen this form before, but he knew her. She could tell that somehow he could see through her disguises.

Once she had the excited woman at arm’s length, Dr. Callie recognized her former resident. “Nichole Braden. How are you? What brings you back here?” The old woman’s tired face came to life.

“Looking for a job,” Ashley answered, gripping Nichole’s arm to silence her.

“I might have something available.” Dr. Callie glanced at Ashley and returned her attention to Nichole. “I have to take these gentlemen to room 235.” She seemed distracted and much more interested in talking with Nichole than with anything the “gentlemen” were doing. “They are investigating a young woman who ran away. I have to show them to her former room.” She linked an arm through Nichole’s. “Walk with me and tell me what you are up to these days.”

“Well, for one thing, Tarma got really mad at me.”

“Who’s Tarma?”

Ashley wanted to strangle Nichole. “Her boss. That’s why she needs work.”

They started up the stairs with Dr. Callie asking about Nichole’s work experience. By now, Nichole had fortunately begun to catch on to watching what she said. So Ashley hung back and tried not to focus on the quizzical glances Eric sent her.

The officer with him had been with him at the bar, too. Luckily, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He simply smiled and nodded. By the time they’d arrived at the room, Dr. Callie had found a position for Nichole working in the kitchen at the center.

“All of the beds in this room are occupied. I’m not sure what you think you’ll be able to find. The girls who don’t have classes this hour are in the library, so you have time to look around,” Dr. Callie said. “Take as many pictures as you need, just please put everything back where you found it. The young ladies can be very particular about who touches their belongings.” To Nichole, she said, “Let’s go down to my office and get the forms.”

Nichole slipped the onyx band from her finger and pressed it into Ashley’s hand. As she walked away she twiddled her bare fingers at her former mentor.

The officer turned toward the open door then, as if having just noticed that she still stood there. “Can we help you, miss?” he asked.

She didn’t know how to respond. She just looked at Eric.

To Max, he said, “She’s a friend.” To her, he said, “I need to take care of this right now. Will you wait here?”

She could only nod and lean against the hallway wall. They needed to talk. He had an idea of how she kept finding him, but this time he deserved an explanation or at least the semblance of one. She tapped a light rhythm on the wall behind her. That sort of conversation could get messy.

• • •

Eric forced his attention to the investigation. There would be time enough to deal with the woman waiting for him in the hallway later.

Suzie used to live with two other girls. They each had a bed and a desk. Their dresser drawers were built into the bed frame under the mattress. Each bed had been neatly made, and there wasn’t a scrap of clothing on the floor. There must be rules against leaving an untidy area. From what Eric remembered of his own adolescence, most children weren’t neat unless coerced.

Starting with the things to the right of the door, Eric opened the drawers of the desk just long enough for a sniff and then closed it.

Max watched for a second and then cleared his throat. “You seem to have a method.”

Moving to the drawers under the bed, Eric said, “Yup.”

Max rocked to his toes and back again. “I’ll just take a peek in the closet.”

“Fine.”

His nose told him the floor was mopped and the bedding changed regularly. One girl had a stash of candy bars in the back of her desk. Another had a stash of pot under her mattress. He’d cleared most of the room when, finally, his nose caught a scent. He crossed the room to the closet and leaned against the frame. He asked, “Find anything?” before taking a whiff.

Nothing.

As if confirming Eric’s perception, Max grunted. “Nothing. Lots of shoes, just nothing useful.”

The smell came from somewhere. He made to move back to where he’d left off and smelled it again. There, on the bed—under the covers—no—in a cigar box, tucked between the wall and the mattress. A rag doll in what appeared to be jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Bingo.” He could smell the killer—faint, but there. Now if only there were a national scent registry, they’d be golden.

Max stood from where he was replacing shoeboxes. “That looks familiar.” He dug gloves and an evidence bag from his pocket.

“Suzie didn’t run away,” Eric said, holding the pillow up so Max could remove the doll.

“But if she was abducted it was off the street. How did the doll get here?” Max placed the doll in the evidence bag and sealed it. Then he tucked his gloves back into his pocket.

“Let’s ask Dr. Callie. We’ll need to interview the occupant of this bed.”

As they left the room Eric told Max to go on ahead so he could hang back to talk to the gorgeous honeyed blonde who still waited for him in the hall.

“One of these days I’m going to need to know what you really look like.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes.” He used to go for this type. Blonde and curvy. But more than her looks, which seemed to change from one hour to the next, her scent drove him wild. Floral and woody. Rich and scintillating. “Do you have a car?”