Unstable, page 4
"How can I help?" she asked.
"It's not for me." Daytona lifted her chin, and in that gesture Cora saw the shadow, briefly, of the woman she'd been, the tough, steely person she remembered.
Cora didn't reply, just waited.
"I'm doing okay. Look, I wasn't for a while. I fell on tough times. Financially, and in other ways."
"You should have asked for help! Dammit, Daytona." Self-blame lay heavy on Cora. Ex-SEALs should look after each other. If she’d only known.
"I did what I had to. And now, it's better. I've got my regulars, they pay me well, and I do a pole dance gig on the weekends at a club downtown."
Same husky voice. Just without the sass it had used to hold.
Cora didn't want to argue. If Daytona thought she was doing okay, it wasn't for her to intervene.
"Who's it for?"
A car drove past on the street, and immediately, Cora saw the driver's gaze lock onto Daytona, in recognition and disapproval of the person she was.
If she stayed here much longer, Cora guessed the 'respectable' people in the area would start complaining. Probably they'd call the police or neighborhood watch. That was the kind of place where her parents lived, the society they were part of.
Daytona didn't seem to notice the other driver's look. She fidgeted with the strap of her purse, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Now, standing in front of Cora, she looked much older than Cora remembered her. Cora's heart went out to her, remembering the camaraderie they'd shared during their time in the military.
"Let's go for a drive," she said.
They climbed in the car. That, at least, was in good shape. It was an old model Mustang, with leather seats, clean and tidy, a couple of bags in the back, and a jacket on the passenger seat that Cora moved.
Daytona started up the car and they drove. Down her parents' road, a right turn, and then they were on the main street heading out of town.
"So, there's something going on," Daytona said. Her gaze was fixed ahead.
"What kind of something?" Cora asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. Daytona was never one to beat around the bush. If something was going on, it was serious.
"I think there's someone killing people. Killing people in my line of work."
"Why do you think that?"
The road unfolded in front of her, stretching into the hills, misty and green. Unspoiled. Looking at the view and listening to the woman at the wheel, it felt like Daytona was talking about a different world entirely. Most likely, she was. Cora didn’t know where she lived or anything else.
"You get to know the girls," Daytona said. "Get to know who's who, where they're at. We look out for each other, make sure we're okay. There are certain bars, certain places we all go."
"Sure. I understand. And things are happening?"
"A few people have vanished, recently. And a couple of us have noticed and been wondering. A couple of their friends, even one of their sisters, was at the bar a night or two ago, asking about them, and if anyone knew anything."
Cora nodded.
She guessed, from Daytona's tone, that there was more.
"And?"
"And I've been worrying about it, but the more so, because last week one of the new girls disappeared. Her name's Louella."
"And you think she's been taken?"
"Yeah, I do. Nobody's seen or heard a thing. I've tried to call her, but she doesn't pick up; her phone's off. Her boyfriend is a piece of trash drug addict who knows nothing. He told me she left one morning to hitch a ride out, to do some work. He has no idea where she went, and he never saw her again. I believe it, because he can’t drive. Bad eyesight issues. He’s half blind. He sent her out to earn for him, and he accused me of conspiring with her to leave him. And I should have. Louella, she's not the type who should be in this game. She could do better."
"What do you mean?" Cora glanced at Daytona. Her profile was stern, her gaze fixed on the road.
"She's a good girl; she fell on tough times. You know how fast it can happen. Wrong boyfriend, a few bad decisions. She should never have been here, and now, she's gone. I’d believe she had left him, if it wasn’t for the others going missing, too." She turned to Cora with appeal in her eyes.
"Kidnapping?”
"I think so. Nobody's ever been found. No bodies, I mean.”
“Have you been to the police?”
As she said the words, she realized they were probably pointless. And Daytona made a face, proving her right.
“What are the police going to do? They’ll tell us that the women probably just moved on, or ended up in trouble and skipped town. And we can’t take it higher. We're sex workers.” She grimaced as she said the words. “The FBI isn't gonna pour resources into this. They won't take it seriously, most likely. There's nobody who can help." She looked at Cora again. "Nobody except you."
"You want me to take on the case?"
Already, Cora’s mind was racing ahead. Could she do this? Now? With all the family trouble on the go and her overarching need to find out more about the Mob boyfriend, Mario, who’d dated her sister? She had too much on her plate. Too many worries.
Daytona nodded. "Please. Find Louella. She doesn't deserve this, Cora. If anyone can do it, it's you." Her voice hardened. "And find whoever's doing this. We have a tough time; we live in a hard world. We don't need to be targeted this way. This - whoever it is, this monster. They need to be stopped."
Cora glanced at her, wondering how she could word a refusal, and who else she could tell Daytona to go to for help.
Nobody came to mind. There weren’t many people who’d be willing to take on a case like that. And she didn’t know how much Daytona could afford. She knew she’d try to pay something. She also knew she wouldn’t accept payment from her old friend and SEAL compatriot, even if she did take on the case.
Which she couldn’t do, of course. She glanced at Daytona, ready to tell her so.
Her friend’s hands were gripping the wheel hard. Her face was like stone.
Cora took a deep breath. This timing was terrible. She should turn this down, with her mother in the hospital, and having to provide her father with help and companionship that he might need, but didn’t want.
But then again, Daytona’s friend had nobody to help her. Except Cora.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll take it on. I’ll try to find your friend. Tell me what you know.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Cora saw Daytona's face shift, relief flooding her expression.
"Thank you," Daytona said. Real gratitude in her voice.
"You'd better turn the car around." They were driving all the way up into the hills now. "Let's go back. I need to know whatever you do. Tell me some of the details while we're heading into town. Where is this case?" Cora asked.
"Ohio. That's where we're based. A lot of the girls work the truck stops. There's a lot of activity through that state, a lot of drivers. There are a few truck stops where the girls go, and I don’t know if she was taken from one of them or elsewhere. But beyond that, I don't know." Daytona shrugged miserably. "Like the police would say, it's a transient lifestyle. You don't see people for days, weeks. Then you hear things. Or not."
Cora was silent a while, thinking about what this would mean, about where she could start.
About who was out there, preying on women who didn't deserve it, who'd hit rock bottom and were dealing with life at that level.
She knew she couldn't just jump into this blindly, but she also knew she couldn't wait too long. Every minute that passed could be the difference between finding Louella alive or not.
"Did Louella say anything to you when you last spoke? Anything out of the ordinary?" Cora asked.
Daytona shook her head. "No, not really. She was just trying to find a way to get out of the game. She was looking for a solution, you know? But she promised - she promised that she'd keep me in the loop and I trusted that promise." She sighed.
Cora nodded. She trusted Daytona's instincts enough to know that if she thought this was true, it was.
"Send me the coordinates and the details where you last saw her, and anything you know about the others, too," she said, as Daytona stopped outside her parents' house. "I'll see if I can find anything in common. And I’ll try to get there by tomorrow. For now, there's some family business I need to sort out."
"Understood. And Cora - thank you."
She turned. Reached over. Gave Daytona a fist bump, just like they used to do in the military. That had been their thing, the traditional greeting they'd shared. It felt inadequate now, but she didn't know what else to do.
Cora got out of the car and went up to the house. Opened the front door.
Her dad was still where she'd left him. Still sitting at the table, still immersed in his worry and grief. He didn't look up.
"I've got to go out of town for a couple of days," she said, knowing it might end up being longer. She didn't know how much time it would take to find Louella or figure out what was happening. "When I come back, I'll come see you. I'll bring some groceries and we can visit Mom," she added.
"Thank you." He looked up at her with gratitude in his eyes.
Cora tried to ignore the guilt that twisted her insides. She should have sat here with him for the afternoon, spoken to him, made sure he was okay. Instead, she was heading out on a case. But she couldn't ignore the call for help.
She didn't know Ohio well. But she knew someone who did. Her encounter with his close family, recently, had not been something she ever wanted to speak about and she wasn't ready to tell him, either.
Her mind shot back to the moment she'd touched his dad's body with her boot sole, shoving the corpse off the cliff.
And then her thoughts veered away again, away from the sights and sounds of that moment.
As Cora walked out of the house, she dialed Gabriel Finch.
"Hey, Cora," he said, picking up after one ring. "What's happening?"
She pictured him in her mind, his solid linebacker build, with his dirty blonde hair and strong-featured face. Handsome, for sure. He didn’t look like his dad. Should she even ask? What would happen if the topic of his dad came up? Was she ready for what that would involve?
"I've got a new case. In Ohio. Want to go on a road trip and help with it?" she asked. As soon as she said it, she felt a surprising pang of nerves. Maybe she could have handled this without his help, and maybe that wasn’t the reason she’d asked him to help.
Maybe the reason was that she wanted him to come along and, suddenly, his answer mattered a whole lot more.
“When?” he asked.
She sighed. “Like, now. We should leave in the next hour or two.”
“What?” His voice was incredulous. “Now? I’ll have to move a few work projects. I don’t know if I can.”
“Okay.” She backtracked hurriedly. “Don’t worry. It was just an idea. I can go alone.”
There was silence for a while.
“No.” Now, he sounded surer. “Give me an hour. I’ll make a plan with the projects, and come with you.”
***
It was five p.m. and the sun was setting when Cora pulled up outside Gabe's place. She had a couple of things packed in an overnight bag. Not much, as she traveled light.
So did he, it seemed. He opened the passenger door with nothing more than a small gym bag in his hand. He put it on the back seat and got in. Behind him, she saw hills, wooden fences, tracts of forest, the regular, green rows of crop fields.
Gabe, the farmer's son.
He'd dated her sister Rose ten years ago. But now, Cora knew, there were feelings developing between the two of them. At any rate, she guessed so. Based on her feelings for him. That made it kind of weird to be going on a road trip with him.
And she was not going to tell him what had happened between her and his dad. No way. That was going to be locked away, in a hidden box, deep in her memory. She never wanted to open it again, or even think about it.
If he asked, she was going to refuse to answer. But luckily, his next question was about their current destination. She wondered if he’d sensed her reaction and changed his question midstream. Gabe was perceptive.
"Ohio?" he asked. "What's happening there?"
"Someone's abducting prostitutes. A few of them have gone missing," Cora said. "I've been hired to find who's doing it. To find one of them in particular. She's supposed to be a good girl, someone who just got dragged down into the life."
Gabe nodded. "Too many bad decisions. I always feel there's a fine line there. One or two wrong ones can send you on a totally different tangent. What you have in life, it’s never guaranteed."
He sounded serious. She glanced at him, taking in his face. She liked his looks. Like the chiseled power in his features, and his untidy blonde hair, his strong, callused hands, and the way his entire being could exude warmth when he gave that rueful smile.
"It is not guaranteed," she agreed.
He took a deep breath, and she tensed. She thought, for a moment, that he was going to ask about his dad. She'd had that feeling. There had been something in his demeanor, something in the quickness with which he'd drawn in that breath.
But he didn't ask. Maybe he'd wanted to, and then also chickened out of it at the last moment.
Cora wondered if he really wanted to know or if he didn't.
"What do we know about this case?" he asked instead. "How long has the killer been working, how many women has he abducted?"
Cora shrugged, staring ahead at her headlights piercing the darkening road.
"A few, I was told. That's all I know. She’s just messaged me three names. Chrissie Evans, who went missing first, as well as Sienna Howard, and Louella, the woman I’ve been hired to find. But maybe there are more."
Gabe nodded. "Maybe we can get some information online. I'll check the news, see if there's anything I can pick up."
He was good at that. He got on his phone and went hunting, and for a while, there was only silence in the car. But now, she figured, the silence was easier. It wasn't the silence before asking an unwanted question.
She put on the radio. Found a music station. Country and western. Not really her choice, but she guessed that for a road trip from West Virginia to Ohio, through the mountains and farmlands, it was apt.
Then Gabe spoke again, his voice surprised.
"I'm getting quite a lot here, Cora.”
“You are?” That was Gabe for you. He’d found what there was to be found. He was sharp that way, and she suddenly felt pleased and relieved that she’d asked him to come along with her, that she’d made the decision in spite of what had played out earlier that morning.
“There's something big going on here, for sure. I'll tell you what I've found so far."
CHAPTER SIX
Capture. Keep.
And smother, for all of eternity, when they finally repented for their sins.
The idea of that endless darkness, of these evil women finally expiring in that hidden place, was deeply appealing to Nightshade's soul. It was a hungry soul, which fed off human suffering. That was an unfortunate fact. Long ago, he had come to terms with it. And now, he even sought to appease that hunger. Denial was far in the past. Hunting for victims - the right ones - was an ongoing quest. It wasn't easy. It required patience, and that was because he wanted a particular type of person. A hated person.
Finding them had been difficult, but recently, Nightshade had discovered a new hunting ground. Plentiful, anonymous, and with a supply of fresh victims to choose from.
It was like a sublime victory, that suddenly made the hunt so much easier. After all, these places were frequented by transient people, concerned only with keeping on the clock, grabbing a snack, filling up with gas before continuing on their way. Humans, basically, were concerned only with themselves.
And of course, the whores made it easier too. They were so hopeful, so desperate. Society's trash, as he thought of them. Disposable women who'd sold themselves, who'd thrown their life energy away, wasting themselves on men who lusted after them. They needed to suffer, to reflect on what they’d done, and then to repent of their evil ways, and then, finally, to die.
Their entire existence made Nightshade furious. Looking at these women caused anger and hatred to surge. They deserved the very worst. How could they do such a thing? Flaunting themselves, causing men to lust, sin, and to stray. It was all the women’s fault; they represented the temptation.
The world didn’t care about them, and saw them as nothing more than objects to be used and discarded. They were not well protected by law, not respected by the police. It was when all those thoughts had finally combined, in a surge of brilliance that lit up his dark mind, that the hunt had begun.
Now, the aim was to capture them, to keep them in that endless darkness. It was a twisted form of justice, a small effort by one person that could be translated as a way to make the world pay for its sins and evil. And it was working. He had taken a few already, and they were all now wrapped in that eternal embrace. Repentance had come quickly, most times. But not this time.
The new whore was calling to him now, the one locked inside the basement room. It was a small room, a wood-lined shell that had taken months of hard work to create. It was mostly underground. It had a basic pit toilet in the corner, and a tap. Those things, Nightshade allowed the victims. There was a reason for it, of course.
Having those things available gave the whores a tiny gleam of hope. And that was fun, because when they went to the next place, the forever place, then all hope would die.
It was more satisfying to prolong the process. Their terror gave them a chance to repent for the evil they’d embraced.
"Help!" this whore was screaming. "Help! Please, someone. Help me!"
The words were like music, making him smile. The terror in her tone was audible, and she was loud when she got going. She was a pretty girl. One of the more unspoiled ones that he had picked up along the way, as part of this dark adventure.
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