Don’t Look Now, page 23
“So maybe she was carrying drugs and was self-conscious.” Jordan asked, “Who would have sold her drugs?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I hear hesitation,” Jordan said.
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
“You must have heard something.”
“I just heard her mention a guy’s name once. Marco, I think. I asked her who it was, but she said he was just a friend.”
Marco Walker. That sure as hell would be an odd coincidence. “Marco have a last name?”
“Started with a W. Wallace. Wilson. Something like that.”
“Marco Walker is a drug dealer who was found dead about the time your sister vanished.”
“I don’t know about that.”
The front door opened, and Mrs. Andrews and Avery reappeared. Avery said quickly, “We couldn’t find the book, Jordan. We searched all through the back bins.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “Thanks for trying.”
“I want to help in any way I can,” Mrs. Andrews said. “And so does Cloe.”
“Go through Casey’s bedroom,” Jordan said. “And call me if you can find anything.”
“You won’t give up on my sister, will you?” Cloe asked.
“No.” Jordan tightened her grip on her cane’s handle.
“You can’t even get here without help,” Cloe said. “How are you going to find Casey?”
“I’ll work the evidence like I always have done,” Jordan said.
When Jordan angled into the passenger seat of her car, her nerves were humming. Walker had a connection to all the women, but he was dead, so he could not have attacked her or taken Emma. Who had he been working with?
Avery started the engine. “What was that all about? Did you get anything out of it?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” The car slipped into drive and moved forward down the street. “If you started using again, you would tell me, right?”
“What brought that on?”
“Cloe said her sister was acting like she did when she was in trouble.”
“You mean using.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t talk around your vision, so don’t substitute euphemisms for my prior drug use. Ignoring ugly doesn’t make it go away.”
“Point taken. And when did you get so wise?”
“I’ve always been wise,” Avery said. “But you never saw it.”
“That’s not true.” Avery was right. Jordan had always seen her sister as the little kid, the wounded dove.
“Bull. And I’m stronger than you think.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Avery’s tone softened. “I swore I would never go back to that life, and I won’t.”
“My sight is putting you under a lot of pressure,” Jordan said.
“I can handle it.”
“Okay.”
“What do you want to ask me?” Avery asked.
“Did you know Walker is dead?”
“Walker? Are you sure?”
“You really didn’t know? None of the cops in the café talked about it?”
“I haven’t been to work since your attack. How did Walker die?”
“He hanged himself.”
“Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like Walker. He said he was going to live forever. What brought his name up?”
“Cloe thinks Casey bought from a guy named Marco with a last name that started with a W.”
“That world is very, very small.”
“The other victims of this serial killer also used drugs or had used drugs.”
“If it was heroin, it was Walker or someone who worked for him. He controlled a big chunk of the downtown area. But you said he’s dead, so he couldn’t have killed the last one.”
“Who did Walker hang out with? Was there anyone that could have killed him?”
“Plenty of people.”
“Who did he trust?”
“No one. But he used to be tight with his attorney.”
“Harold Sunday.” The man seemed to be in her path these days.
When Avery pulled in the driveway, she said to Jordan, “Well, that’s a surprise.”
“What?”
“Dr. Malone is here.”
After Rogan had drawn his finger over her cheek, Jordan had decided to keep her distance. She had told the nurses to keep him away, or she pretended to be asleep when he came into her room. The reality of her disability was too raw now, and the idea of dealing with his feelings as well was too much.
“Don’t look so worried,” Avery said.
“I don’t want to deal with him now,” Jordan said honestly.
“Why not?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Is this about you two sleeping together last year?”
“You knew?” Jordan asked.
“I figured it out. And you can’t run from your past. Face it.”
She gripped her cane. “Right.”
Avery got out of the car. “Hey, Dr. Malone!”
Jordan listened as her sister chatted and walked away from the car. Reaching for the door handle, she opened it, got out, and used her cane as she worked her way toward her house.
Rogan’s steady footsteps moved toward her. “You’re a hard lady to find.”
“What can I say?” She grinned. “I keep busy.”
He didn’t touch her, but she could feel that he wanted to embrace her. Her sense of spatial awareness, or whatever it was, was sharpening. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m figuring it out, just like I always do.”
“Headed inside,” Avery said. She hurried ahead, but neither of them moved.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
“I know.”
“Why?”
“I have a lot to figure out.”
“I can help you.”
“You really can’t,” she said. “I have to do this on my own.”
A heaviness lingered between them. “I’d like to take you out to dinner. We could drive to Fredericksburg like we used to.”
It had been over a year since they had made that drive. “I don’t think so.”
“We’re friends. Friends help each other.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. It would be so easy to lean into his embrace, ask him to hold her and just take care of everything that was so terrifying right now.
However, as much as she wanted her old life back, getting back with him would be backtracking. He wanted more than she could ever give, and to lean on him now would give him hope for something that would never happen.
Her body remained rigid as her fingers curled at her side. “Thanks, Rogan. Really.”
“You don’t have to do this alone.” His voice was deep, soothing.
“I’m not alone. I have Avery.”
“Can she handle this?”
“She’s stronger than she was. She’s different.”
“I hope you’re right, Jordan.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Thursday, April 22
5:30 p.m.
Spencer pulled up in front of Jordan Poe’s house, dog-ass tired and carrying the crime scene scents with him. Out of the car, he surveyed the dimming light, trying to imagine what Jordan saw on a day-to-day basis. He found himself doing that frequently, especially when he woke up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep.
Resting his hat on his head, he strode across the yard and rang the bell. Inside, he heard hesitant footsteps, what sounded like a body bumping into furniture, and then a few choice curses.
“Identify yourself,” Jordan asked on the other side of the locked door.
“Carter Spencer.”
Security chains scraped, and the door opened to Jordan. She wore yoga pants and a V-neck sweater and had pulled her hair back into a loose bun. Barefoot, she gripped the handle of her white cane. Her gaze rose, her eyes searching. “Spencer. Thanks for coming.”
“You said it was important.”
She stepped aside. “Come inside.”
He removed his hat and stepped over the threshold. “Everything all right?”
“Good as can be expected. Can I get you something? Just made a pot of coffee.”
“Sounds good.”
“Follow me at your own peril,” she said. “My sister did more rearranging, thinking she was helping, but it’s driving me crazy. Nothing is as I remembered.”
“You look like you’re managing. You held your own today at the crime scene.”
“I’m the proverbial duck. Floating on top, paddling like mad under the surface.”
“Aren’t we all.”
She smoothed her fingertips along a wall and rounded the corner to the kitchen. On the other side of the island, she reached into a cabinet and located two mugs. “Now the trick will be to pour and not spill.”
Instinct pushed him to help, but he held back. This was her journey, and he would help only if asked.
She poured two cups, filling them two-thirds full, and then set one out in front of him. “Progress.”
He sipped the coffee. “And you make a decent cup of coffee.”
“A talent I have not lost.”
“I bet there’re plenty you haven’t lost.”
“I hope so.”
So did he. “Why the call?”
“I went by Casey Andrews’s mother’s house this afternoon. Avery drove me.”
A smile tweaked the edges of his lips. “I could say I’m surprised you’re still working the case, but that would be a lie.”
“Leopard can’t change his spots.”
“What did you learn?”
“Not much from Mrs. Andrews. I did ask her to go through Casey’s room.”
“I had officers do that.”
“She told me. But she wants to find her girl, and who knows what she’ll uncover.” She turned the cup, slipped her finger through the handle, and cradled it. “Casey’s younger sister, Cloe, had more to say.”
“She barely spoke to me when I was at the house.”
“She’s not an easy kid. And I think it helped that I had Avery along with me. Seeing my family humanized me. Anyway, she told me she thinks Casey bought drugs from Marco.”
Energy snapped through him. “That’s not a surprise.”
“No. We know Tammy Fox tested positive for heroin. Tox screen on Jane Doe #1 back yet?”
“It is. She had heroin in her system. Also received a call from Dr. McIntyre on the way here. Jane Doe #1 has been identified. Her name is Laura Davis, age nineteen. Her mug shot matches the picture Mrs. Sanchez gave me.”
“Laura knew Elena?”
“Seems so.”
“What was she arrested for?”
“She was arrested last year for prostitution. Served a few months in the county jail and during that time got herself cleaned up. She had a job working as a waitress in an outdoor café in Austin until she vanished two months ago. No missing person report was filed, and if not for the arrest record, she could have gone unidentified.”
“What did she look like?”
He almost reached for his phone to show her a picture. “Blond. Petite. Pretty. Young.”
“Elena Sanchez had dark hair and olive skin,” Jordan said.
“Maybe Walker wasn’t looking to traffic Elena but her friend Laura.”
“I spoke to Elena about five weeks ago. I tried to convince her to leave,” Jordan said.
“She made a choice,” he said.
“Yes.”
He understood the blame game too well. Best way to end it was to shift the thoughts. “We have three dead women, possibly four, and this killer isn’t shy about placing his bodies where he knew they would be found. Have you talked to Avery more about that incident two years ago?”
“She said Walker tied her up, but beyond that she says she doesn’t remember.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I think Walker either sold her to someone or was planning to.”
“Someone like Sunday?”
“They were tight. And Sunday has a taste for young women.”
“I spoke to him last week. He’s clever. Dances right up to the line but never crosses it.”
“He knows more about Walker than anyone. If Walker was killed, Sunday would have an idea of who did it.”
“He’ll never tell unless his ass is on the line. What does Avery say about Sunday?”
“She didn’t have much interaction with him.”
He faced a tough question he did not enjoy asking. “You sure she’s still clean?”
“We just had this talk. She says she is.”
“And you believe her?”
“I made a deal with her two years ago when I paid for her treatment. Going forward, I could demand a drug test at any time. And I’ve done it at least seven or eight times each year since then. They’ve all been clean.”
Vickie had once been clean over a year, and he’d thought they were out of the woods until they were not. “Two years of sobriety is an accomplishment.”
“I worry about her all the time.”
“She seems pretty tough to me.”
“You know how the drip of stress can take a toll. We see it on the job all the time.”
“Does Avery have plans for the future?”
“She said she wants to be a cop.”
“With her record that’s not likely to happen. But there’s plenty of good she can do without wearing a badge.”
The front door opened and closed. “Jordan, I’m home.”
Jordan stood a little taller. “In here with Ranger Spencer.”
Avery came around the corner, her hands filled with paper grocery bags. “Look at you two, sharing a cup of java like you are best friends.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jordan said easily.
Her teasing was welcome. He wanted them on the same side. “Coffee cures a lot of ills.”
“Good thing I brought more home from the café,” Avery said.
“Please tell me it’s not decaf,” Jordan said.
“No, still feeding you the real stuff. But you’re going to need to get off of it,” Avery said. “It’s a stimulant.”
Jordan sipped from her cup. “One day, I’ll give it up.”
“Right.” Avery set her bags on the island and began to unload.
He noted an assortment of vegetables and vegan meat substitutes. Only possible in Austin. He wondered if Avery considered meat on Jordan’s no-consume list. “We were just talking about you.”
Jordan set her cup down carefully.
“Why?” Avery asked. “Is there a problem?”
“The murder cases we’ve been working,” Jordan said. “You bear a striking resemblance to the murdered women.”
“I know,” Avery said.
“They also had drug problems,” Jordan said. “All went into rehab, and all had a relapse shortly before they died.”
“I have not relapsed in over two years,” Avery said.
Avery’s tone was firm, but her word choices held no fillers, extra facts, or long-winded explanations that hinted at deception. “I didn’t say you had.”
“But you wondered,” Avery said. “You know what? I’ll take a drug test right now.”
“It’s not necessary,” Jordan said.
“Yes it is,” Avery said. “The test strips are still in the bathroom. I’ll pee on one right now.”
“I can’t see the strip,” Jordan said.
“Spencer can,” Avery countered. “Be right back, kids.”
Footsteps moved at a clipped, irritated pace that reminded Spencer of Jordan. “She’s convincing.”
“She takes a lot of pride in her sobriety. I’m sorry the question came up.”
“To ignore it would be worse. You said yourself you’ve worried about her, so now you’ll know. Might help you sleep better at night.”
“How do you know I don’t sleep?” she asked.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Because few cops do.”
The footsteps returned, and Avery moved toward the trash can. “Unless you want my pee stick by your coffee, you’ll have to come toward the trash can and have a look.”
Spencer rose and with no fanfare crossed the room and looked at the stick. It was white.
Avery held up the test jar with the color bar on the side. “As you can see, white is negative.”
“How do I know you peed on the stick?” he asked.
“I’ll do the next one right in front of you if that’s what it takes to prove I’m clean.”
He had no doubt. “Not necessary.”
She dropped the stick in the trash can, crossed to the sink, and washed her hands. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, you can rule me out as a potential victim.”
“Did you ever know Marco Walker’s girlfriend Elena Sanchez?” Spencer asked. “Or her friend Laura Davis?”
Avery folded her arms and leaned against the counter. “Unless they were around Walker two years ago, I didn’t know her. Back in the day, Walker had several girlfriends at a time. None of them, including me, lasted very long.”
“Because he was violent?” Jordan asked.
“Yeah. And he liked to farm his girls out to his friends,” she said. “If he owed anyone a favor, he got one of his girls to pay the debt back. I always refused. Pissed Walker off, and he told me to get out. I did and got clean for a couple of months. It was harder than I realized, and I returned to him that last time.”
“Any of Walker’s friends have an obsession with strangulation?” he asked.
Avery studied him closely. “Jordan told you how she found me that last time, didn’t she?”
“She did,” he said.
“It’s too close to the current cases to ignore, Avery,” Jordan said.
“Are you saying I could have been this guy’s victim?” Avery asked.
“I don’t know,” Jordan said. “But I can’t rule it out.”
“What do you remember about that night?” Spencer asked.
Avery’s cheeks flushed. “Not much after I got high. It was powerful stuff.”
“Who tied your hands?” Spencer asked.
“Walker. Like I said, the rest was all a blur.” Avery rested her hands on her hips and tipped her head toward the ceiling. “If I had more to tell you, I would. But I don’t remember. Is there anything else you want to ask me?”
