Malevolent (21 page)

“Wow.” Jackson leaned back in his chair. “That is some serious sick shit. What the hell happens to a person to make them that way?”

“I’m not sure we want to know.”

“Yeah, well, I think that’s plenty for the police to take her complaint seriously. Of course, they have the same limitations we do in locating the perpetrator, so while I definitely encourage Emma to report everything, I don’t know how much it will change things. As least in the immediate future.”

“I know I’m still her best hope to get information, but maybe if they assign someone to her case, I can turn over what I’ve got so far and someone more qualified can take over.”

“You’re doing a fine job. I mean that.”

Shaye felt a light blush creep up her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You have a good mind for these things, and you’re a good judge of character. That goes a long way to being a good investigator. That being said, I wish you’d never taken this case. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you should be cutting your teeth on.”

“I know. It’s turned out to be something I never anticipated, but I can’t back out now. Emma needs me, and if I’m being honest, I want to be part of getting this guy. Especially now.”

Jackson nodded. “Now that it’s personal.”

“Yeah.” Shaye blew out a breath. “The thing is, I know David isn’t the stalker, but I can’t help but feel that it all circles back around to him. I talked to people at his job yesterday, but no one had much insight other than they thought he was creepy. One guy gave me the name of someone who served with David his last tour in Iraq. He’s still enlisted and stationed at Fort Polk. I’m going to try to run him down today. Did you find anything?”

“Not much. The Social Security number didn’t pop on employment records until he enlisted, so a little over eight years ago, but his age comes up as twenty-six, so that’s about right if he enlisted at eighteen.”

“What about birth records?”

“Nothing so far, but it didn’t sound like he came from a family with resources, so it could have been a home birth.”

“Or he’s not from here at all. We can’t take anything David told Emma as the gospel.”

“That thought crossed my mind as well.”

Shaye sighed. “I’m getting nowhere. He knows everything and I know nothing.”

“It certainly seems that way, but it’s not exactly true. You have a lead on the guy who served with him. Maybe he will know something. And I’ll keep looking. I can check records throughout the entire state. It just may take a while.”

“I really appreciate it.” She shook her head, trying to make sense of all the moving pieces, and then remembered her conversation last night with Emma in her mother’s hospital room. “Something else. Emma said an old boyfriend of hers from high school, Stephen Moore, was at the hospital yesterday.” She repeated Emma’s story to Jackson.

“Doesn’t sound suspicious,” Jackson said.

“Not on the surface, but I don’t like the timing. Also, I lied to Emma and said I couldn’t place him even though he’d taken part in some of Corrine’s charity events.”

“Now I’m fascinated. Why did you lie?”

“Because of something Emma said about his appearance. I asked her to describe him, to make sure I was thinking of the right guy, but the description Emma gave was completely different from the way he looked in high school. Emma said so herself. I’m certain I know who he is and what he used to look like, but now…”

“What does he look like now?”

“David Grange.”

Jackson whistled.

“I don’t think Emma has latched onto that yet, but from long, wavy, light brown locks to military short and dark is a strange choice for a guy to make, especially when I’m going to hazard a guess that it’s not the best look for him.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“A couple of months ago, and he looked like he always did.”

Jackson nodded. “You don’t have any reason to suspect a connection with the old boyfriend and David, do you?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Soooooo, maybe he wants back in with Emma, saw pics of David on the news, and thinks she has a type?”

“Maybe. I don’t know exactly, but again, it’s the timing that doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay. Do you want me to pay him a visit?”

“Oh! You can do that? I mean, without an official reason?”

“It doesn’t have to be official. I could just drop by and have a chat with the man…see if I can get a feel for him.”

Shaye tapped her finger on the table. On one hand, since she’d be at Fort Polk, she’d love the help, but on the other hand, she didn’t want Jackson doing her job, especially when it might compromise his own. On the third hand, she might have a hard time questioning Stephen herself since he knew who she was. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“So I won’t get into trouble. What’s he going to do? Call and complain to my boss that I spoke to him?”

“He might. He’s an attorney.”

“Shit. That means I have to be polite.”

Shaye smiled. “Probably a good idea. If you don’t mind doing it, I have to admit, it would really help me out. I don’t know how long I’ll be at Fort Polk, and I really want to move on Moore as quickly as possible, if for no other reason than to eliminate him from the suspect list.”

“You mean the suspect list with no names on it.”

She sighed. “Yeah, that one. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could get assigned to my mother’s case?”

“Not as long as I’m chained to Vincent. I suggested he ask for the assignment this morning and he acted like I’d just discharged my weapon in the men’s room. It’s probably just as well. If you got me, he’d be lead, so you’re probably better off with someone else. Given your grandfather’s, uh, prominence, the best detectives will be assigned to the case.”

“But the best detectives don’t know what we know. I suppose I’ll have to tell them. Do you think it will do any good?”

“I think at this point, you stand a better chance of being taken seriously than before. He messed up by attacking Corrine. I have no doubt he did it to force you to back off, but I don’t think he thought clearly about what kind of resources the family name would pull.” Jackson shook his head. “And then it could be he’s so cocky he doesn’t care.”

“Or the game’s almost over.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to say that one.”

“I’m not foolish, Jackson,” she said quietly. “I may be young and lack investigative experience on criminal matters, but I’m no stranger to evil.”

He studied her for several seconds, and she could tell he was debating whether or not to say whatever was on his mind. Talking must have won out because he finally said, “I reviewed your file. I hope you don’t mind.”

She’d known he would. He needed to know enough about her before he could trust the information she provided him. There was plenty of general crazy in New Orleans, and there was no future in wasting time on the outrageous theories they came up with. Still, it always bothered her on some level that people had access to such intimate details about her life. Basically, that they knew as much as she did. It made her feel as if she were sitting at the table in her underwear, all her scars laid bare for observation. And speculation.

His expression shifted from expectant to contrite. “You do mind. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No. It’s all right. You’re not the first and you’ll never be the last. Besides, you wouldn’t be much of a detective if you took me at face value and didn’t check up on me.”

“True. But it’s got to be hard…the most private things about your life being so public.”

“There was a media circus at first. Corrine taking custody of me made it a bigger deal than it would have normally been, but it was worth it. If not for Corrine, I wouldn’t have a normal life. She knew exactly what I needed and had the resources to provide it. Without her, I’m not sure I’d even be here.”

“Oh, you’d be here. You’re a fighter. That much is obvious. But you might not be as pleasant.”

She smiled. “You think I’m pleasant? That might be a first.”

He grinned. “I’m around cops and criminals all day long. The bar isn’t all that high.”

“You really know how to flatter a girl.”

He sobered and looked down at his coffee, then back up at her. “Have you ever thought about looking into things…for yourself, I mean?”

Shaye considered his question before answering. Not because she didn’t know the answer, but because she wasn’t sure it was something she was ready to share with anyone else.
 

But if not now, when?

She’d been keeping it all in, talking openly only to Eleonore, and it got harder every day to keep the wall around her erect. Maybe it was time to let her guard down. Time to start trusting that the world contained more good people in it than her mother and her psychiatrist.
 

“I think about it every day,” she said. “Unanswered questions are the reason I wanted to be a PI.”

“But?”

“But I’m not sure I’m ready for the answers.”

He nodded. “Well, when you are, and if you want some help, I’m available.”

The sincerity in his words was so clear, and a warm feeling passed over Shaye. Aside from family, medical personnel, and a few choice others, she’d never felt that people really wanted to help her. Instead, she felt they’d wanted to gawk at her like those people who slowed to look at car accidents. Jackson was different from anyone she’d met before. He looked at her like a real person, an individual. Everyone else saw the girl with the missing past, the poor abused victim, Corrine Archer’s daughter, or Pierce Archer’s granddaughter. It was a good feeling to be seen as only Shaye, but also one she wasn’t quite comfortable with.
 

“Thank you,” she said.
 

He must have sensed her discomfort because he changed the subject. “But first, we solve the mystery of David Grange.”

Guilt nagged at Shaye and she couldn’t help launching one more protest, no matter how feeble. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate your help, but promise me you won’t do anything to jeopardize your job. I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.”

“I promise I’ll be very sneaky, but I want to do this. I was there the night Emma killed David. I saw what it did to her. I want answers for her as much as you do, and more importantly, I want this sick bastard behind bars so that he can never do this to anyone else.”

“Then I guess we better get to work.”

Chapter Sixteen

It took Jackson less than a minute to locate the law office where Stephen Moore worked and only double that time to flash his badge at the dour receptionist and get a pass through even though she’d made it clear that Mr. Moore talked only to people with scheduled appointments. The walk down the hallway to Moore’s office took less than ten seconds, but he was sure Mrs. Dour had called to warn him, because Moore was already standing behind his desk, looking a bit anxious, when Jackson stepped inside.

As Jackson approached the desk, Moore moved to the side and extended his hand. “Stephen Moore. Mary said you’re with the police?”

“Yes.” Jackson flashed his badge, but didn’t give Moore long enough to zero in on his name. If he could get out of here without Moore knowing who he was, that was probably for the best. He’d done some background checking before he’d driven to the law office. He knew Moore specialized in corporate law, which meant he spent his days making a lot of money getting corporations off for crappy things that corporations tended to do. Moore had the money, the family backing, and the business connections needed to cause problems for him if he weren’t careful.

Moore motioned to the chair in front of his desk and took a seat behind it, clearly uncomfortable with Jackson’s silence. Jackson took a seat and studied Moore for a couple more seconds before speaking. “Do you know Emma Frederick?”

“I, uh, yes. I knew her in high school, that is.”

“But you don’t know her now?”

“We haven’t been in touch for some years.”

Jackson nodded, glancing around the room. He pointed to a framed photo of Moore and Emma displayed on a credenza. There were other pictures of Moore and older people, probably his parents, but no other pictures of women. And based on the photo, Moore had definitely changed his appearance. The man sitting in front of him barely resembled the younger version in the photos.

“You haven’t seen her in years, but you still keep a picture of her?” Jackson asked.

“She was a wonderful girl, and we had some good times. I prefer to surround myself with positive items rather than impersonal vases and such.”

“Sure. I bet the new girlfriend doesn’t feel as positive about those pictures though, right?”

Moore’s ears reddened. “I’m not seeing anyone seriously right now. How can I help you, Detective?”

Got a bit of a rise out of him with that one.
 

Stephen Moore wasn’t the harmless innocent that he tried to portray. There was a temper in there. “Ms. Frederick is having a bit of trouble,” Jackson said.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t practice criminal law.”