The Intended Victim Page 14

  Now she climbed out of the car and waited for Ash to join her. Holding the grocery bag in one hand, she gave a nod of her head to gesture toward the narrow side street. They walked in silence, Ash on full alert while Remi was more interested in the handful of people who were shuffling along the pavement.

  The local streets were home to dozens of people who’d fallen on hard times. Most appeared and disappeared like phantoms, either seeking help and climbing out of the gutters or falling even deeper into the cracks. There were, however, a dozen regulars Remi knew on a first-name basis.

  They turned the corner, and Remi caught sight of a familiar form huddled in a doorway. Maggie’s thin body was covered by a shabby blanket Remi had brought her last month, and a red knit stocking hat she wore whether it was twenty below zero or eighty degrees was pulled low on her head. She had a few wispy gray hairs that managed to escape and blow around her narrow face that was heavily lined. The woman was probably in her early fifties, but she looked closer to seventy.

  Hearing their approach, Maggie quickly shoved something behind her, probably a bottle of cheap vodka. That was her drug of choice. Remi slowed her pace, glancing toward the man at her side.

  “Stay behind me,” she said in a low voice.

  Ash’s jaw hardened with a predictable annoyance. “Why?”

  “Because you look like a cop,” she said without apology. “Maggie won’t talk if she thinks you’re here to hassle her.”

  “I don’t look like a cop,” he protested.

  Remi rolled her eyes. “Your entire family was born looking like cops. Just stay behind me.”

  “What happened to the whole partner thing?” he demanded.

  “You’re my partner.” She deliberately stepped in front of him, glancing over her shoulder. “But back there.”

  “Christ,” he muttered, but he lagged behind her as she approached the older woman.

  Either because he trusted her judgment or, more likely, because Maggie hadn’t bathed in several days. Maybe weeks.

  Remi ignored the stench and moved to squat in front of the woman. She’d met Maggie six months ago, when she’d come into the shelter that was attached to the youth center. Once upon a time, Maggie had been a wife and mother who’d lived in a beautiful town house. Now she struggled to survive.

  Remi smiled warmly at the woman. Maggie had told Remi that the worst part of living on the street was that no one ever looked at her anymore. It was as if she was invisible. “Hey, Maggie, how are you?”

  Maggie sent a wary glance toward Ash before answering. “Same ol’, same ol’.”

  “Did you get to the clinic to have your feet treated?” Remi asked. The older woman had been complaining about blisters that had become infected on the bottom of her soles.

  “Yep. And I got some spiffy new shoes.” Maggie pulled back the blanket to reveal the black sneakers.

  Remi took a moment to admire the shoes. “Very nice.”

  Maggie grimaced, an old pain flaring through her dark eyes. No doubt she’d once worn designer shoes. Now she was stuck in sneakers pulled from a charity box. “They at least don’t have any holes in them,” she said.

  Remi held out the grocery bag. “I have some sandwiches.”

  “Thanks.” The older woman hesitantly reached in to grab the food and tucked it under the blanket. As if afraid someone might take it away. Then she sent another glance toward Ash. “Who’s that?”

  “A friend.” Remi glanced over her shoulder, not surprised to discover that the stubborn man had moved until he was just an inch behind her. “He’s here to help keep me safe,” she told Maggie.

  “About time you figured out how dangerous it is out here.” The woman pointed her finger toward Ash. “I hope you’re carrying.”

  Ash shrugged. “I can take care of Ms. Walsh.”

  Maggie sniffed, clearly disappointed that Ash hadn’t pulled out a gun and waved it around. Slowly, she swiveled her head back to study Remi.

  “This isn’t your usual day to be out here. Unless I’ve blacked out again.”

  “No, it’s not my usual day,” Remi assured her. “I’m looking for Roo.”

  “Roo?” Maggie looked alarmed. She’d become a mother figure to many of the younger people on the street. At least when she was sober enough to remember them. “Is he in trouble?”

  “Nope,” Remi assured her. “I just have a couple of questions for him.”

  Maggie heaved a sigh. “He’s not gonna talk. I’ve tried to help, but he’s going down a bad road.”

  “Have you seen him today?” Remi asked.

  Maggie tilted back her head and squinted at the bright sunlight. “No, but it’s early for him to be out. This time of day he’s usually crashed at that peach house a block east of here.”

  “Thanks, Maggie.” Remi reached out to lightly touch Maggie’s shoulder. It felt dangerously frail beneath the blanket. “Go to the shelter tonight. It’s too cold to be out here.”

  The woman nodded. “I’ll be in before night falls. You stay safe.”

  “I will.”

  Straightening, Remi led Ash away from the woman, who was eagerly pulling out her bottle of vodka to lift it to her lips. A pang of sadness tugged at Remi’s heart. Maggie was killing herself, but until she was willing to accept help, there was nothing Remi could do.

  She was still lost in her dark thoughts as they reached the corner. About to cross the street, she was halted as Ash reached out to grasp her arm. Turning her head, she met his fierce glare.

  “Remi, I’ve accepted that you’re more familiar with this neighborhood than I am, but I draw the line at letting you walk into a crack house.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ash squared his shoulders and braced himself for an argument. One that he was fully prepared to win.

  But even as Remi’s lips parted to inform him that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, her eyes widened.

  “There he is,” she breathed, jerking away from his grip to hurry down the sidewalk. “Come on.”

  They headed north rather than east as Remi jogged toward the lone figure strolling at a leisurely pace.

  “Hey, Roo,” she called out.

  The person quickly turned to reveal a lean face that was older than Ash had expected. He guessed Roo was in his early twenties, with pale features that looked chapped from the cold. His dirty blond hair was kept in long dreads and he had a dozen piercings in various places on his ears and face. Most surprising, however, was the clear intelligence in his brown eyes.

  This Roo might be a dealer, but he didn’t abuse his product.

  Catching sight of Remi and Ash walking in his direction, Roo muttered a nasty curse. Obviously, he’d been hoping for a customer. “I haven’t been selling to your pathetic delinquents,” the young man growled. “So if some crybaby told you I—” Roo bit off his words as Ash halted directly in front of him. His dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What the hell is going on?”

  Ash heard Remi heave a sigh before she was stepping to stand at Ash’s side.

  “He’s a friend.”

  “Yeah, right,” Roo muttered. “Do I have ‘stupid’ tattooed on my forehead?”

  Ash pretended he didn’t notice Remi’s wry glance. Okay, maybe he did look like a cop. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his money clip. Without a badge to force the dealer to talk, he was going to need another incentive. “I need information and I’m willing to pay for it,” he told the younger man.

  Roo continued to eye Ash as if he’d just crawled from beneath a rock, but he didn’t take off. “I’ve told you guys I ain’t no snitch,” he snapped. “Find some other sucker.”

  “This isn’t about your drug suppliers or your clients,” Ash assured the dealer.

  “Right.” Roo shivered as a sharp wind whipped around the corner, easily cutting through his thin coat. “That’s how it always starts. Just tell me this. Or tell me that. And the n
ext I know, you have your hand up my ass and I don’t have any choice but to be your damned narc.”

  Ash pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, holding it up in a silent temptation. “This is a one-time deal,” he promised. “You never have to speak with me again.” Ash was careful not to claim that Roo might not have to talk to the cops. One step at a time.

  The dealer’s gaze lingered on the money, his fingers tapping against the side of his legs as he considered the danger of answering Ash’s question against the benefit of a quick twenty bucks.

  At last, the money trumped his caution. “What do you want?”

  “Tell me about Friday morning.”

  Roo sent a quick glance toward Remi, as if baffled by the question. “Friday morning?” He gave a shrug of his shoulders, returning his gaze to Ash. “Got up late. Hooked up with my girl around noon. Same as any other day.”

  “You left out your trip to Jameson Park.”

  Roo jerked, alarm rippling over his face before he could disguise his reaction by jutting his chin to an aggressive angle. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “You were there,” Ash said, his words a statement.

  Roo shook his head. “Whoever told you that is a liar. A dead liar.”

  “Video surveillance doesn’t lie,” Ash drawled. He wasn’t claiming he had video of Roo, just that it didn’t lie.

  Roo flushed with a sudden burst of anger. “That dick promised me there were no cameras.”

  Ash hid his smile of satisfaction as he gave another wave of the twenty. “What dick?”

  Roo reached for the money. “Just a local dude.”

  Ash jerked back his arm, keeping the twenty just out of reach. “I need a name.”

  Roo sent him an angry glare. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “No name, no money.”

  “We called him Weed,” Roo snapped, lunging with surprising speed to grab the crisp bill from Ash’s fingers. “He was killed in a drive-by last week.”

  Ash watched Roo stuff the twenty into his pocket, his gaze flicking down to Ash’s money clip with an unmistakable eagerness. He might not be a user, but he was clearly in desperate need of cash. Ash peeled off another twenty and shoved the clip into his pocket. No need tempting the man into doing something rash.

  “So why were you in the park?” he asked, once again holding up the money.

  Roo narrowed his gaze, as if considering the possibility of tackling Ash and taking the money. Then, without warning, his guise of a badass drug dealer was shattered to reveal a young man who was tired of struggling from day to day.

  “Look, I’m getting squeezed out here. Most suppliers want a dealer who’s still young enough to peddle their shit at the schools. Or tweakers who are willing to work for a taste of the product. I need cold, hard cash to eat and pay the rent,” he confessed in a harsh voice. “A few months ago, Weed expanded his business to the north. He said the rich kiddies had deep pockets and a taste for oxy. He was selling as many pills as he could get his hands on.”

  Ash nodded. He’d spent a year in Vice before passing his test to make detective. The drug epidemic had been overwhelming then, now . . . it was mind-boggling. “In the park?” he demanded.

  Roo nodded. “He’d get there before dawn and wait for them to stroll in with their uniforms and designer backpacks and a big wad of cash. He’d hand them a baggie and they’d scurry off to their fancy schools.”

  Ash heard Remi muttering something beneath her breath. Probably something about jerks who peddled poison to children. He felt the same disgust. “So you decided to take over his territory after he was murdered?” he demanded.

  Roo stuck out his lower lip, which was pierced with a gold hoop. “If I don’t, someone else will.”

  Ash sent Remi a mocking glance. “Capitalism is alive and well.”

  “Screw this,” Roo muttered. “I need to bounce.”

  “Wait.” Ash moved to block the dealer’s path, still holding the twenty in his fingers. “What did you see in the park that morning?”

  Roo kept his gaze on the money. Was he reminding himself why he didn’t just kick Ash in the nuts? Probably.

  “Nothing,” he finally ground out. “It was completely empty.”

  Ash studied him in disbelief. “Empty?”

  The younger man gave a jerky wave of his hand. “There were a few joggers and a man standing next to the lake. I guess he was fishing.”

  Ash made a mental note to search along the beach. Pretending to fish would be a great way to fade into the background. “No students?” he pressed.

  A look of disgust tightened Roo’s narrow face. “Not that I could find. Either they already found a new supplier or they got scared off when they heard their candy-man was shot in the head.”

  Or Weed had lied, Ash silently added. The dealer would be a fool to give away the location of his sweet spot to a competitor. Not that Ash cared one way or another. All that mattered was finding out if Roo had seen anything that could help them. “You didn’t notice a woman who might have looked like Ms. Walsh?”

  The dealer glanced toward Remi before giving a shake of his head. “Nope.”

  Ash studied the younger man’s expression. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Roo insisted. “Ms. Walsh is a pain in the ass, but if I’d seen someone who looked like her, I would have remembered.”

  The younger man’s expression was sardonic, but he couldn’t entirely hide the hint of respect for Remi. The same respect he’d noticed when Maggie and Drew were talking about Remi.

  She might not have the exact teaching career she’d dreamed about, but she was making a difference in the lives she touched. And he couldn’t be prouder of her.

  His heart swelled, but he resisted the urge to turn and gather Remi in his arms. At some point he would have to deal with the emotions that weren’t buried as deeply as he thought they had been five years ago. But not now.

  “You can’t remember anything that might help?” He gave a wave of the cash.

  Roo was silent, as if searching his mind for some information that might get him the money. “There was one thing,” he at last said.

  “What?”

  “I was nearly run over when I was leaving.”

  Ash didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Run over?” he repeated. “By a car?”

  “No, by a herd of rabbits.” Roo smirked at Ash’s confusion. “Of course it was a car.”

  Ash ignored the dealer’s sarcasm. “Tell me what happened.”

  Roo held out his hand. “No money, no talk.”

  Ash handed over the twenty. “Now tell me.”

  The bill disappeared into the pocket with the first one. “I was leaving the park—” Roo started.

  “Which exit?” Ash interrupted.

  “The one with the weird-ass lions.”

  Ash lifted his brows. “Griffins?”

  “Whatever.” Roo shrugged, unperturbed that he didn’t recognize the mythical creature. “When I reached the exit, a car was gunning its engine behind me, and the next thing I knew it was jumping the curb. I had to leap into the bushes to keep from getting hit.”

  Ash started to dismiss the incident. There were a thousand crazy drivers in the city. He’d almost been run over a dozen times. Then he paused, forcing himself to try to imagine what had happened that morning. The park would have been quiet. Just a few joggers and a man fishing, Roo had said. The killer had followed Angel into the wooded area. Or lured her there to meet him. Then he’d struck, slicing her throat and leaving the telltale mark on her breast.

  What would he be feeling? Elation? Panic? Cold-blooded satisfaction? One thing was certain: He would want to be far from the area before the body was discovered.

  “Do you think it was intentionally trying to hurt you?”

  “Naw. There was a patch of ice on the road. I think they lost control.” Roo suddenly squinted his eyes, as if struck by a thought. “’Course, they di
d cause me a lot of pain, and my clothes were ripped to hell. If you find out who it was driving the car, I want some money for the damage they caused.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ash said with a wry smile. Roo was a born hustler. “Do you remember anything about the vehicle?”

  “Yeah. It was impossible to forget.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ash demanded.

  “It was a yellow Mustang with flames painted on the side.” Roo described the car without hesitation. “You don’t see many of those around.”

  There was a shocked sound from Remi as she abruptly took a step forward. “Are you sure?”

  Roo sent her a puzzled glance. “The thing nearly rammed up my ass. I’m sure.”

  Ash reached out to wrap an arm around Remi’s shoulders even as he firmly diverted Roo’s attention back in his direction.

  “Did you see which way it headed?”

  “North.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I went home.”

  Ash studied the thin face framed by the dreads for a long, silent moment. The younger man’s words had rung true, but Ash wasn’t an idiot. Roo was a skilled liar and manipulator. “If you were involved or know who killed that woman, you’re going to have an easier time if you go to the cops now,” he warned in tones that had made grown men tremble.

  Roo, however, had faced down gangbangers, rival dealers, and God knew how many cops. He wasn’t going to be intimidated.

  “I wasn’t involved and if you have the surveillance you claim, you know I wasn’t,” he drawled, throwing Ash’s words back in his face. “I’m outta here.”

  This time Roo turned and jogged across the street, his back stiff with unspoken warning. He was done with the interview.

  Keeping his arm wrapped around Remi’s shoulders, Ash steered her back to the car. Her face was pale in the afternoon sunlight, and several strands of her dark hair had been pulled loose from their braid by the stiff breeze.

  He knew exactly what was wrong with her as he urged her into the passenger seat before hurrying to take his place behind the steering wheel. Remi was too distracted to drive.