Font Size:  

“Okay, what do you want?”

“I want permission to look into the cold cases. I can’t help but wonder if there’s not something there that might be tied to the network. There’s already a detective in Sex Crimes who’s been assigned—”

“Hold up.” Malone held up his hand. “This is already moving and you’re telling me after the fact?”

“I’m sorry. It all happened so fast and…”

“That happened.” He pointed to her face.

She was hoping to eternally avoid needing to tell him about Rick Jensen, his assault, his threat, and the fact she’d just let him get away with it. As a long-time friend of the family he might understand, but she couldn’t take that risk.

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m fine, but those girls are not. They need to be helped and whatever degenerates are involved need to be brought to justice.”

Malone’s lips twitched and there was a sparkle in his eyes—one she hadn’t seen for her in a long time. He was proud of her and it made her sit up straighter.

“So? Can I work the cold cases?”

“You really don’t think there’s any true connection to Palmer?”

She got comfortable and laid out what she was thinking. “It could be a leap, and I have no way of knowing until I dig into it, but do you remember the stripper who was murdered in Georgia five and a half years ago?”

“Yeah. What about her?”

“Well, we haven’t been able to figure out a connection between the girl and Webb—not that we’ve had a lot of time to focus on that. But we know enough that Casey-Anne Ritter seems to be an assumed identity and living off the grid. That tells me she either had something to hide or she was hiding. So was her connection to Webb an involvement in the ring or was she a victim?”

Malone chewed on his thumbnail. “Huh. Just assure me again that if any of this starts leading to Palmer’s killer, you’ll back off and turn whatever you have over to Trent?”

“Does that mean that you’re letting me—”

“Hold up. There’s still the matter of your alibi. I’d feel a lot better if I had that. What seems to be the issue anyway?”

It would be easier if she could convince herself to come clean about the one-night

stand, but she wasn’t ready to go there unless she had no choice. “I should have it in a couple of hours.” She glanced at his clock on the wall. “Less than,” she added with a smile.

“Hmph. Fine. Get it, then get to work.”

“What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Not my problem, Detective.” He swept his hand in a brushing motion. “Shoo.”

She returned to her cubicle, but Trent wasn’t in his and his coat and coffee were gone. Atta boy, he’s following a lead, she thought.

She sat at her desk and downed the rest of her drink and stared at the partition. What a waste of time just sitting around waiting. Surely there was something she could do that wouldn’t give Malone a fit. She recalled Detective Patricia Glover’s voicemail. One phone call couldn’t hurt anything. She called but got voicemail, and it sure felt like the universe might be conspiring against her too. She didn’t leave a message.

Next, she tried Detective Banks from Georgia. He answered on the second ring.

“This is Detective Steele,” she said. There was a pause on his end, so she reminded him. “I called about a case you worked over five years ago. Casey-Anne Ritter.”

“Oh right. Yes. How can I help? You said you thought you might have a related case? You referring to Jackson Webb—the guy killed with the same gun a few days later? Has new evidence surfaced?”

“Yes, and no, I guess.” She filled him in on the data chip and the sex-trafficking ring. “I think it’s possible that Casey-Anne was either involved or a victim.”

A huge sigh traveled over the line. “I wish I could say that surprises me.”

The hairs rose on the back of Amanda’s neck. “Which—victim or perpetrator?”

“Definitely the former, and I’d say she lived in fear. It was just the starkness of the girl’s apartment, you see. She had a beanbag chair in the living room and couple of hardcover books. Her bedroom was a used mattress and second-hand dresser. Ask me, she was ready to run whenever she needed to. She paid for her rent in cash. She worked at a strip club, dancing.” He paused there as if he wasn’t sure if Amanda was aware of that.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like