Echo's Crusade Part 3

"This friend...was it a s.e.xual friendship?"

Echo recalled the final time she'd been with Karen and the brief kiss they shared. She remembered the elevator doors closing and the look of happy bemus.e.m.e.nt on her friend's face. "I think she was helping someone, but it wasn't s.e.xual."

Roan saw a brief look of happiness cross the woman's face. It was obviously a good memory. "If I show you a picture of this woman, do you think you could recognize her?"

Echo shook her head. "I...Karen asked me often to go with her to the project...I was always..." Her body language told its own story.

"Too busy." Roan saw a flash of guilt cross the woman's face.

"Yeah, something like that."

Roan flicked the picture taken at the morgue of Shelby Cameron across the table and watched for any response. Other than horror, she saw no other emotion. She retrieved the photo and replaced it in the file. "Sorry," she said. "I had to be sure. What do you know of the Greystoke Project?"

The perfunctory apology had Echo feeling her antagonism for the woman rise once more. She drew in a shaky breath. "To answer your question, Karen thought what she was doing was worthwhile and she respected...actually, idolized is a better word...the person running the venture. Beyond that, I know nothing except what has been reported in the newspapers." She added, "She didn't attend the funeral. I thought that was odd."

"Who didn't attend?"

"The woman who ran the project."

"Layla Greystoke?"

"That sounds like the name...I really never paid that much attention to the names...only that Karen thought it was a worthy cause."

Roan pursed her lips and speculated why there seemed to be a push to get the case closed. Political reasons were high on her list of possibilities. Even the forensics team felt the pressure to wrap the case up and only do a cursory exam. Added to that, there was until now a lack of outcry from the public.

Under normal circ.u.mstances, what the woman said wasn't enough new information to reopen the case. All the evidence pointed to murder/suicide. However, they had never looked at the Greystoke Project, not even to interview anyone there. She knew that at times, the department had to cut corners, but this case smacked of something else. The woman coming forward might be the opening she needed to take an unofficial look at the case again. If she found new evidence that placed the case on a different path, she'd try to persuade her captain to get it reopened.

Echo looked up and waited for the trite reply of "I can't help you," but it never came. Instead, she watched, fascinated by rapid eye movements and the tiny muscle that twitched on the detective's face. Finally, she decided to speak again. "I know all I have to go on is my gut instinct, but she deserved better than to be branded a suicide, or worse, be what people are saying about her."

Roan dragged her attention to the woman and c.o.c.ked her head to one side. "What's that exactly?"

Echo frowned and dropped her gaze, refusing to allow the detective's gaze to catch hers. The office gossip from those who hadn't known her well had hurt Echo when she heard the hateful words. "A coward."

"Ms. Radar, I'll take a second look at the case file. I'll call you if there's any change in our original a.s.sessment." Roan stood and walked toward the door.

"Thank you, Detective Keating. I'm sure there's some better explanation than she killed herself...I have to believe that." Echo walked to where the officer stood.

Roan, uncharacteristically solicitous, placed a hand on the brunette's shoulder. "Sometimes the truth hurts and you have to accept that in this world. Be ready for that...it's the failings of human nature."

Detective Keating's voice became s.e.xy again, and Echo felt an unexpected warmth surge through her. Concentrating on what the woman was saying, she inwardly berated herself on the fickleness of her emotions. "I know."

Roan and Echo walked down a short corridor to the locked door. Once Roan opened it, she allowed the woman to leave. When Roan's pager went off, she gave it a perfunctory glance and said, "Good to meet you, Ms. Radar. I have to go."

Holding on to the door, she watched Echo leave and sighed as a glint of amus.e.m.e.nt crossed her face as she watched the high heels click on the concrete floor. "She definitely has a swagger...and that's dangerous." Her gaze moved from the heels to the woman's a.s.s as the pager beeped again, and she drew her attention away from Echo Radar's lower body to the job.

She looked at the message and sighed. "Another homicide, nothing new there."

She shelved the Thompson case in her mind and silently promised to look at it again when she had the time. She opened her cell and dialed a number. "Keating."

Chapter Six.

The physical journey to the Greystoke Project was far easier than the mult.i.tude of scenarios Echo had acted out in her mind. The visit to the police a month earlier had been a dead end-the detective never called. In fact, once she'd arrived back at her apartment, she'd realized that Keating informing her that she'd look at Karen's case again was a polite way of getting rid of her. After all, Echo wasn't family and had no rights to anything other than those of a friend. Except in her mind, her friendship with Karen was as close as any family tie.

She finally decided that the only thing she could do to find out the truth was to conduct her own investigation. Where to start hadn't been difficult for there was only one place-the Greystoke Project. She might not like what she found, but other than work, it was the only other thing of importance in Karen's life.

Now Echo was at the steps of a grimy, almost derelict building that at one time had been a church. Her feet refused to move as she felt the emotion welling up inside her. "Oh, G.o.d, Karen, I wish you were here now. I feel like my life is so out of control because you're not in it." Gulping in a deep breath of the foul air that permeated the area, she opened the door and entered the building. The stagnant smell of decay and neglect loomed heavy as the foul air enclosed around her.

As she ventured farther, she saw about six people of differing ages walking aimlessly about as a couple more sat in dilapidated pews. At the head of the church, where a font had at one time held center stage, stood three people. One was a poorly dressed man who Echo thought was a derelict. Another was a woman in casual but definitely not poor clothing. The last figure, with a back to her, wore jeans and a plain black jacket, and she couldn't tell the gender. What caught Echo's attention the most was the sound of a woman's voice. It was a calming, almost hallucinatory experience, and she found herself captured not by the words, but by the resonance. She didn't move as she felt the gentle tones soothing some of the pain that riddled her mind.

A hand on her arm caught her attention and she spun around to face a young thin, bespectacled man who smiled at her. "Hi, is there anything I can do for you?"

Echo felt perplexed and blinked several times. "I was wondering if you knew a friend of mine. She used to help here a few months ago."

The man frowned slightly. "I'll try, but I've only been here for a short time. What's your friend's name?"

"Karen...Karen Thompson." Echo watched the man for any reaction, but saw none. From the left, she heard a gasp and turned to look at the person. An unkempt, decidedly unpleasant woman stared at her.

Echo gave the woman a friendly smile, then heard the young man say, "Maybe she knows?" The man glanced in the direction of his outstretched finger. "That's Jamie, she's barely coherent most of the time, but you can try." He turned away and was about to leave when he said, "Better yet...I can ask Layla. She'll know. I'll be right back."

Echo didn't answer him as she continued to make eye contact with the older woman in the pew. As she moved closer, the woman fidgeted as she looked around, seeking escape.

"Hi, my name is Echo. I wonder if you knew my friend Karen...she used to work here."

The woman stopped her agitated movements and frowned. "Yeah...the b.i.t.c.h never came back to help me like she promised." She spat out a dark liquid onto the stone floor.

Almost retching, Echo wanted to cry out in frustration and pain. Pushing down an angry retort, she quietly said, "I'm sure she would have if she could."

"No way! She was involved with that Shelby kid big-time. No one else was of interest...she promised me!"

The name Shelby rang a bell in Echo's head, but she couldn't quite recall in what context. "Is Shelby still around?"

The old woman let out a burst of manic laughter. "The b.i.t.c.h is dead, good riddance, your friend..."

"That's enough, Jamie." The voice Echo had heard earlier seemed to settle all around them, and Echo switched her glance from the old woman to the one who had come up beside her.

The woman was about her height, with a shock of blond, possibly even white hair and the most amazing intense light blue eyes Echo had ever encountered. They more than made up for the woman's weathered, average, and some might say ugly, facial features.

"h.e.l.lo, I'm Layla Greystoke. My a.s.sistant Jarrod said you wanted information on a friend."

Startled, Echo nodded. "Yes...yes I do. It's Karen Thompson, she was my best friend."

A meditative expression settled on the craggy face, then the lips pulled tight, creating the image of a sad jester. "You must be Echo. Karen talked of you often. I'm very sorry we had to meet under these circ.u.mstances. Please, come to my office and we'll talk." Layla glanced at the figure she'd left at the front of the church. The person was on the phone engrossed in a conversation. She whispered to her a.s.sistant who disappeared toward the person.

Echo followed the woman who Karen spoke of in glowing terms and berated herself for not making more of an effort to go there sooner. The woman's presence was simply charismatic. She had a flaw-she didn't attend Karen's funeral. Why?

Minutes later, seated in a small vestibule off the main church area, Layla shook her head. "Karen was the most giving person I've ever met in my life. Believe me, I have met many in the years I've worked in various voluntary organizations."

The quiet words lifted Echo slightly. However, it didn't fill the gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach-Karen didn't take her own life. "I know. Honestly, I find it hard to accept that she committed suicide. Did she have any problems here?"

"No, Karen understood more than I did about what people here needed and how they came to be in such dire circ.u.mstances. It was the best quality about her. That's why what happened was such a shock to us all."

"Yeah, me too. I guess she must have been keeping a secret from us all if she felt so sad that she wanted to take her own life. Why didn't you attend her funeral?"

Layla remained silent for a moment before she replied. "How much do you know about the circ.u.mstances of her death?"

"Nothing much. I know the police ruled it a suicide, and there is talk in her building that a murder occurred in her apartment. The police weren't that forthcoming. If someone killed her, surely there would still be an investigation. There's been nothing on the news or in the papers. I checked the back issues for that weekend."

The older woman bit her bottom lip. "Echo...Karen committed suicide because she apparently murdered another woman. A young girl she'd been working with here." She gestured toward the church area. "Shelby Cameron was her name. If you've talked to the police, surely..."

At that moment, another voice entered the conversation and it was one Echo immediately recognized. She turned in her chair to look into the discriminating gaze of Detective Keating. "She talked, we listened, and we're checking out other possibilities."

"Detective Keating?" Echo stood and gazed in astonishment at the woman. She was the person on the phone at the front of the church when she'd arrived. What an odd coincidence.

"Lieutenant," Keating said.

Layla watched from her vantage point the body language of the two women and raised her eyebrows slightly. "I see you've met Lieutenant Keating, Echo. She was asking me about Karen just before you arrived. I think in light of the fact no one has given you the full story, perhaps the lieutenant might oblige." Layla stood and headed out of office for the main area. "If you need me, I'll be out front."

Echo stood transfixed to the spot, which was becoming a habit. "I don't understand." Her words were hardly coherent as she slumped in the chair and tried to make sense of the numbing information Layla Greystoke provided. It reminded her of the conversation with Stan when he told her about Karen's death. It wasn't real until someone came out and voiced the words.

Keating dragged a bony hand through her thick black hair, knowing the action would probably make her appear like a scarecrow. "Karen Thompson committed suicide outside this building after she savagely murdered Shelby Cameron in her apartment. We believe it to be a s.e.xually oriented crime since all the pieces fit. It was an open-and-shut case."

Silence filled the room before the quiet sounds of sobbing replaced it. Roan stood silently waiting for the emotion to abate and the angry words to replace them for they always did. She was unprepared for the scratching of the chair on the hard surface of the floor and the woman brushing past her without a word.

Echo, for her part, didn't have any words. She needed to go home and digest what people were saying. Karen is a murderer...that's impossible! After she rushed out of the church and stood at the bottom of the steps, she wondered how she was going to hail a taxi. She doubted that a cabbie would cruise around there for fares. The driver who brought her there earlier had charged extra to go into the neighborhood.

As tears masked her vision, she was unprepared for the jostle she received from three teenagers, "Hey, mama, want some real meat in your sandwich tonight? We can all oblige." The loudest of the three leered at her as he came up to her and pressed his body against her.

Her mind, already emotionally overloaded, was unable to do more than to shrink into its deepest recesses. Then from what seemed like a place far away, she heard another voice in the mix. "You punks get out of here...if you come within a hundred yards of her again, I'll take pleasure in removing your manhood myself."

That voice again, it sent mixed signals every time Echo heard it.

"Ms. Radar, are you okay?"

Echo, feeling as if all her words were gone, only shook her head.

"How are you getting home? Did you drive yourself?" Although the voice wasn't gentle, it did sound a bit less unfeeling to Echo. Again, she shook her head.

Roan sighed heavily. "Okay, I'll take you home." She placed a hand on the woman's arm and led her to her vehicle. A couple of minutes later, they were heading across town.

Roan thanked G.o.d for her accurate memory, which recalled the woman's address from their previous meeting.

Echo was in a comatose existence after her visit to the Greystoke Project. aKaren is a murderer' kept repeating in her head. The idea was preposterous. For two weeks, she lived with the thought that the gentle, caring person she had known as her friend was a monster capable of killing another human being. No matter how many times the photograph of the young woman at the morgue ran through her mind and Karen's alleged part in her death, it didn't register as true.

To make matters worse, her boss insisted she take over her client base full time again. He told her that it was time for her to get back to her life, and she knew it was true. Although she wasn't a relative of Karen, Stan hadn't insisted she immediately take on her grueling schedule, and he even let her take extra time for bereavement leave. He had been more than generous, and it was time for her to go back to work.

Then there was the embarra.s.sment of the detective bringing her home from the Greystoke building. Although she was civil, Echo felt the woman's annoyance by the task. She hadn't even asked her address, yet deposited her outside the correct apartment building without a word. Echo recalled the only words spoken...

"We're here," Roan Keating said.

Echo shook her head as she finally realized that the vehicle had stopped and she was home. "We are? How?"

The police officer frowned. "I drove, and yes, we are."

From somewhere deep inside, Echo felt the sting of the woman's simple explanation and it smacked of sarcasm. "Do you think me a half-wit, Detective? Do you always speak with one word or in simple sentences as if others are children without a brain?"

Roan sucked in half of her left cheek as she considered her retort. "I've found, Ms. Radar, economy of words helps in my work...there's less of a chance that people will misunderstand."

Shaking her head, Echo looked into the blank expression on Roan's face and narrowed her eyes. "You could have told me the facts at the precinct when I saw you...why didn't you?"

"What difference does it make? You know them now. Has this new information changed how you feel about your friend?" Being emotionally detached was a necessity of her job. She knew that the type of cases she worked meant she had to keep her focus on finding the truth rather than believing in the fantasies that some people conjured up about others. That wasn't her style and never would be.

"No! Karen wouldn't hurt anyone, and I'm going to prove it one way or another," Echo said with bravado she really didn't feel.

Roan gave her a slightly crooked smile. "And if you find out that it is the truth, can you come to terms with that? Once the truth is found, it's hard to put together the broken pieces of a fallen idol."

There was a hidden undercurrent in the words as Roan said them, and Echo found her gaze drawn to Roan. If she had her way, Echo preferred never to see her again. "I'll take my chances. What if I prove that she wasn't responsible?"

There was an immediate reaction as Roan narrowed her eyes and replied, "I might be investigating your death, too. Is that what you want?"

With vehemence, Echo said, "I want the truth!"

Roan's gaze took in the dashboard clock, and she wondered if she had time to go home and take a nap before her night shift began. Then the sound of her pager resonated in the car. She looked at the message and sighed. "I need to go."

Echo gave Roan a long hard look, noticing the dark circles around her eyes and the tired expression on her face. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Detective," she said before opening the door and climbing out.

As the door was about to close, Roan leaned over. "Let me do what I said I was going to do, Ms. Radar. If you're not satisfied in a couple of weeks, I'll back off."

"Will you call me with an update and not leave me hanging?"

Roan nodded. "I'll call." Her pager buzzed again. "I have to..."

"Go, yes. Goodbye, Detective." As Echo shut the door, she thought she saw the glimmer of amus.e.m.e.nt tug at Roan's lips. Taking the steps two at a time, Echo reached the landing and unlocked the outer door. Then she heard the squeal of rubber as the vehicle and its lone pa.s.senger departed.

Chapter Seven.