Justice Served Part 30

"Yes."

"I'll check in with you every ve minutes. Call me sooner if you nd something."

"Yes, ma'am."

v Rebecca walked quickly, eyes scanning both sides of the narrow thoroughfare. All of the business establishments were closed, and it was too early for deliveries, so she was alone. City smells accosted her: gasoline, garbage, and an occasional hint of someone's breakfast.

It was fall, and the morning was cold. She left her jacket open for easy access to her weapon. She didn't think about Catherine. She didn't think about Sandy. She thought about where a young girl running for her life * 201 *

RADCLY fFE might go. Her cell phone rang. It was three minutes before the next check-in time with Mitch.e.l.l. She looked at the number on the readout as she pulled the phone from her belt. Her hand never wavered, but her stomach tightened painfully.

"Frye."

Mitch.e.l.l's voice came through clear, surprisingly steady, surprisingly normal, except for the absolute absence of in ection.

"I've got a body."

v Don't touch anything, the lieutenant had said. Secure the scene, she had said.

Mitch.e.l.l moved mechanically, instructing one of the uniforms who had arrived within minutes to cordon off each end of the alley with yellow crime scene tape, advising the other to start canva.s.sing for witnesses. It was the rst time she'd of cially acted as a detective, and she didn't feel a thing. No pride, no arrogance, no nerves. Nothing. She didn't feel anything.

"Mitch.e.l.l."

"Ma'am," Mitch.e.l.l said re exively, turning toward the sound of Rebecca's voice. Funny, how just that little bit of movement made her dizzy. The lieutenant had an odd expression on her face-a searching, almost tender look.

"What do you have?"

"Female..." Mitch.e.l.l's voice died and she frowned. Coughed.

Tried again. Odd, how much her throat hurt all of a sudden. "Female victim. Behind the dumpster. Down the alley."

"Show me." Rebecca ducked under the tape and put her hand in the center of Mitch.e.l.l's back. The muscles beneath her ngers were as hard as stone. Rivulets of sweat ran from beneath Mitch.e.l.l's hair, soaking the collar of her leather jacket. "Are you certain she's dead?"

"Has to be." Mitch.e.l.l moved forward in measured steps, stiff legged and disjointed, far from her usual uid stride. "So much blood."

"Did you touch her?" Rebecca's question was soft, her tone nearly gentle.

"No, ma'am. I saw...I saw an arm. The jacket." Mitch.e.l.l laughed, a short, broken sound. "That stupid jacket. I told her it wasn't warm * 202 *

Justice Served enough. She never listens." She stopped abruptly fteen feet from a green commercial dumpster. "There was blood everywhere. He shot her. He shot her in the head." She shivered violently. "Oh Christ."

From where she stood, Rebecca could see only part of the body.

A pale, open- ngered hand extended from the sleeve of a bright red vinyl jacket. A shoe, its strap torn loose from the cheap plastic sole, lay abandoned close by. Part of a leg in shiny black satin. A thick spreading puddle that could only be blood. She'd seen it before. Hundreds of times. Smelled the scent of death, felt the hopelessness and despair.

This time, rage rode hard through her. Even as her fury mounted, her mind grew ever clearer, her heart colder.

"I want someone knocking on every door on both sides of this street for three blocks in every direction. Someone heard the shot-I want their name. No one interviews them but me. No one comes down this alley until the crime scene techs have cleared it. I want Flanagan.

No one else." She angled her body between the victim and Mitch.e.l.l. "I want you out of here. Go to Sloan's. Wait for me there."

"I want to see her." Mitch.e.l.l's eyes were bleak, barren wounded things. "I didn't...earlier. I saw the jacket. The blood. I can't leave her here."

"No. You go now. Do you understand?"

"Please. Please, Lieutenant."

Rebecca hesitated, considered what she would need to do if it were...the pain struck so swiftly she gasped. Jesus. She gripped Mitch.e.l.l's arm and stepped close enough to her so that no one from the street could see them. This was Mitch.e.l.l's private h.e.l.l, and there would be no witnesses.

"Come on."

Together, they moved within three feet of the body and squatted down. With practiced, cool ef ciency, Rebecca surveyed the scene. The victim lay on her stomach, face turned away. She'd almost certainly been running and he'd caught her from behind, spun her around, and put the gun in her face. The exit wound told Rebecca that. There was so much blood even her hair color was obscured. A purse lay not far away, partially open, the clasp probably having been sprung from the force of the fall. Rebecca considered going through it, and then decided that Flanagan would shred her skin from her bones if she did. Beside her, Mitch.e.l.l moaned.

* 203 *

RADCLY fFE "All right," Rebecca said sharply, starting to rise. "That's it. You're out of here."

"No. No no no," Mitch.e.l.l intoned.

"Detective, I said-"

"There's a tattoo on her ankle."

"What?" Rebecca looked back down at the body, at the small rose tattoo just behind her ankle bone.

Mitch.e.l.l stood swiftly, every drop of color bleached from her skin.

"That's not Sandy."

Without another word, Mitch.e.l.l pivoted sharply, marched directly to the end of the alley, and ducked under the crime scene tape. She made it another ten feet down the street before she leaned against a lamp post and vomited into the street. A dozen cops saw her. No one laughed.

* 204 *

Justice Served

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

Here you go, kid. Drink some of this."

Mitch.e.l.l leaned against the lamppost, eyes still closed, laboring to get her system under control. She still felt dizzy, her stomach rolled dangerously, and her heart skittered crazily in her chest.

She inclined her head in Watts's direction but did not yet open her eyes.

"In a minute."

"Sure. Sure. Just take your time."

"What are you doing here?" Mitch.e.l.l nally rasped, taking the can of soda he offered. "Thanks."

"The Loo called and said we had a situation. I pulled up just as you were...uh...well."

"Yeah. Nice show for all the uniforms," Mitch.e.l.l said bitterly.

"f.u.c.k them," Watts said emphatically. "And you owe me two bucks. I used my last quarter in the machine over there getting that soda for you."

"I'll buy you a six-pack."

"Fair enough." Watts hunched his shoulders in his shapeless sports coat. "f.u.c.king freezing out here. So...I guess the scene's pretty rough, huh?"

Mitch.e.l.l took a mouthful of the tasteless but heavily carbonated liquid, rinsed her mouth, and spit it out into the gutter. Then she drained the rest of the can in one long swallow. "Yeah. You could say that."

"What's the story?"

"Looks like someone got Trudy."

"f.u.c.k." Watts stiffened as if someone had poked him with a sharp stick. "Where's Sandy?"

"I don't know," Mitch.e.l.l said hoa.r.s.ely. "At rst I thought it was her...down there."

Watts extended a hand and touched her arm tentatively. "You've * 205 *

RADCLY fFE got nothing to be ashamed of, kid. Everyone loses their lunch sooner or later."

Mitch.e.l.l gave him a grateful smile. "Well, I'm glad I'm running true to form." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and looked past him toward the crime scene van that had just pulled up. "Flanagan's here."

"Well, I better give the Loo a hand. Why don't you take a brea-"

"No, I'm ne." To prove it, Mitch.e.l.l took a tentative step, glad to discover that her still-shaking legs were functional. "There's a lot of work still to do, and-"

A commotion at the end of the block caught her attention, and she heard, "Let me through! I need to get through."

Then a deep male voice gave a shout of surprise, a splash of pale pink amidst the dark blue uniforms ashed into view, and Mitch.e.l.l took off running.

"Lemme go!" Sandy yanked her arm from the viselike grip of the of cer who tried to restrain her and rocketed down the sidewalk.

"Sandy!" Mitch.e.l.l caught her around the waist and engulfed her in a near-suffocating embrace. "Jesus. Sandy. Sandy. G.o.d."

"Whoa, rookie." Sandy tried to squirm free, but failed. Then something about the vehemence of Mitch.e.l.l's reaction penetrated her haze of anger and fear, and she stopped struggling. Instead, she slipped a hand around the back of Mitch.e.l.l's neck and caressed her. "Take it easy, baby. What's the matter? Dell? You're shaking all over."

Mitch.e.l.l buried her face in Sandy's neck, afraid for anyone to see her face.

Shocked, Sandy rocked back. In a low, gentle voice, she asked, "Baby, what? Why are you crying?"

"She's wearing your jacket." With one arm around Sandy's shoulder, Mitch.e.l.l turned her back to the group of curious cops and swiped her sleeve across her face. "Come on," she said, walking Sandy further down the sidewalk out of earshot. "Are you hurt? Did he touch you?"

"Who? No. Trudy never came back, and I...What about my jacket?" Sandy's eyes widened. "Trudy has my jacket. I went straight to the diner from Chen's, but she said she had something to do rst. It * 206 *

Justice Served was so cold, and she didn't have a coat. I waited an extra hour, but she never came."

"You split up?"

Sandy nodded. "Trudy was supposed to meet someone. Some private deal, she said, but she wanted to talk after that. I said I'd wait for her at the diner." Sandy searched Mitch.e.l.l's face, her own a mask of apprehension. "What about my jacket, Dell?"

Mitch.e.l.l stroked Sandy's cheek with her free hand, still holding her too tightly, still unable to believe she was real. "Trudy's dead, honey."

Sandy sucked in air as if she'd been punched in the stomach and clutched Mitch.e.l.l's hand. "How?"

"Shot. Did you see someone following you last night?"

"No, but Trudy got hinky in the restaurant and wanted to leave right away. I knew something was wrong, but she wouldn't tell me what." Sandy stared at the yellow crime scene tape at the mouth of the alley. "Is that where she is?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, baby." Sandy turned into Mitch.e.l.l and clutched the front of her jacket with both hands. "You thought it was me. Oh, I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry."

Mitch.e.l.l shook her head and kissed Sandy's forehead. "It's okay.

You're all right." Taking several deep breaths, Mitch.e.l.l forced what she hoped was a rea.s.suring smile. "I gotta go back to work, honey. But I think the lieutenant will need to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Okay. Sure." Stunned, Sandy still clung to Mitch.e.l.l.

"Here," Mitch.e.l.l said, slipping out of her jacket and carefully placing it around Sandy's shoulders. "It's freezing out here and you're...well, you're not wearing enough."

Re exively, Sandy slid her arms into the sleeves and then pulled the too-large garment closed with both hands. "Where should I go?"

"Take a cab to Sloan's," Mitch.e.l.l said immediately, pulling her wallet from her back pocket and extracting some bills. "Stay with Michael until I come for you, okay?"

Fisting the cash, Sandy nodded, glancing toward the alley. "Are you sure it's her?"

Tenderly, Mitch.e.l.l kissed Sandy's forehead again. "Yes. I'm sorry, honey."

* 207 *

RADCLY fFE "Be careful, rookie. You be real careful." Sandy placed her open palm against Mitch.e.l.l's chest and fanned her ngers back and forth slowly. "I love you."

Mitch.e.l.l covered Sandy's small hand with hers and squeezed gently. "I love you too."

v Catherine arrived twenty minutes after Sandy. When she stepped off the elevator into the loft living room, Michael was waiting. Catherine leaned forward and kissed Michael's cheek. "h.e.l.lo. How are you?"

Michael smiled. "Much better. Thank you." She extended a hand to take Catherine's coat. "Sandy's in the kitchen."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"