Malevolent (24 page)

What if he kills her?

That one question outweighed all the risks. No way was Shaye living with this woman’s death on her conscience. She pulled out her identification and showed it to the girl. “You might be in danger. Can I please come in and talk to you?”

The girl’s eyes widened and she stared at Shaye as if waiting for the punch line. When none was forthcoming, she stepped back and nodded. Shaye walked into the apartment, praying she was doing the right thing.

Chapter Eighteen

Emma poured herself another cup of coffee and checked her cell phone for the hundredth time. She was breaking the rules by having it on her during her shift, but she was beyond caring. As soon as her boss arrived in the morning, she was resigning anyway, and with no notice. If anyone wanted to put remarks in her permanent file for that decision, then so be it. Better a mark on her employment record than an obituary in the local paper.
 

It had seemed impossible, but after Shaye’s phone call on her way back from Fort Polk, Emma had been more nervous than ever. The story the soldier had told Shaye horrified her, but at the same time explained so much. Maybe David had suffered some sort of mental break. Maybe this Ron was the source.
 

Maybe Ron was her stalker, getting revenge on Emma for killing his ally.

Ron made as much sense as anyone else, and Shaye seemed to think he was capable. She’d told Emma her plan to contact Ron again with the hope of getting a photo that the skater kid could identify. It sounded like a good idea, except for the part where Shaye was essentially going to willingly put herself in front of a crazy man. Emma had tried to talk her out of it, but Shaye had insisted that they needed something to give the police so they’d pick Ron up. Even if they couldn’t hold him for long, it would buy Emma time to get out of town without being observed.
 

Emma couldn’t argue with Shaye’s reasoning, but didn’t like the young woman taking such risks. Shaye had promised to meet Ron in a public place and call Emma the moment she had the photo. Emma had been obsessing over her silent phone ever since. Shaye should have made it back to New Orleans over an hour ago. Where was she? Why hadn’t she called?

Every time Emma started to dial Shaye’s number, a range of thoughts went through her mind from “she’s checking on her mother” to “what if Shaye’s phone rings while she’s sneaking up on Ron for a picture and he catches her?” So far, she’d ended up sliding the phone back into her pocket, deciding the risk to Shaye was too great.

If she was being honest with herself, Emma also felt guilty. After her conversation with the detective that morning, Shaye had called her, trying to convince her to go to the police with all the evidence they had so far. It wasn’t that Emma had found fault in Shaye’s arguments, but the truth was, after she’d discovered the bracelet, she’d driven straight to the hospital and hidden in the break room until her shift started, too afraid to leave.

She’d tried calling the police, but the person who’d taken her call hadn’t been helpful at all, insisting that she had to come to the police station to file a report. Emma supposed she could have tried harder to get an officer dispatched to the hospital to take a statement, but given the prejudice the police already seemed to have against her, she simply didn’t want the hassle. She promised herself she’d go in tomorrow, right after she gave her notice.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she jerked, spilling coffee onto her hand. She gasped as the hot liquid scorched her skin and immediately tossed the Styrofoam cup into the garbage. As she turned on the cold water in the sink, she checked the display and saw it was Shaye. She shoved her burned hand under the cool stream and answered the call.

“Are you all right?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Shaye said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call sooner.”

“Did you get the picture?”

“No. Ron’s disappeared.”

Emma stiffened. “What?”

“He quit his job with no notice and his girlfriend kicked him out a week ago for slapping her around. He picked up his clothes yesterday and told her he had a new job in Alaska.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’m worried it means he’s about to flee New Orleans.”

Emma clutched the phone, her voice catching. “He…he won’t leave as long as I’m alive.”

“That’s the part that worries me. Are you staying at the hospital tonight?”

“Yes.”
 

“Good. I’m going to contact the cop I talked to earlier and see what he can do about Ron. I filled the girlfriend in on everything, and she’s going to file charges tomorrow. At least the cops will go looking for him then. Maybe by the time they find him, I’ll have something for them to use to hold him.”

“If they pick him up, how long can they hold him?”

“Forty-eight hours. Then they have to charge him or let him walk.”

Emma blew out a breath. Forty-eight hours wasn’t a lot of time, but it might be enough to hand over her house to Patty, do something about her car situation, and get the hell out of New Orleans.
 

“I’m quitting my job tomorrow morning,” Emma said. “I need to meet Patty sometime tomorrow to give her a house key and pack up some of my stuff, but I’m leaving.”

“I don’t blame you. I’ll collect your stuff at the hotel tomorrow morning and take you to your house to meet Patty. Then we’ll deal with your car situation.”

“None of that falls in your job description.”

“I work for you. Keeping you safe seems like a good way to spend my time and
your
money.”

Emma smiled. “I guess I can’t argue with that. I’m glad I met you, Shaye. For so many reasons, but mostly because I’d lost faith in people. You and some others have brought it back.”

“When we feel surrounded by evil,” Shaye said quietly, “it’s easy to forget that the world also has good, but it’s there. We both have to keep believing that.”

A sliver of peace ran through Emma. If after everything Shaye had been through, she was able to have a positive outlook, then Emma could too. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but sometime, when this was all behind her. It gave her hope for the future, something she’d lost sight of.

“Go look after your mother,” Emma said. “This mess will be waiting for both of us tomorrow.”

“I will. Don’t leave the hospital for any reason, and tell that security guard friend of yours to keep watch for a man who looks similar to David.”

“I’ll show him a picture of David. He’s keeping watch.”

“Good. Stay safe, Emma.”

Emma ended the call and slipped her phone back into her scrubs. Ron’s disappearance was frightening on so many levels, but she couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit elated that they’d finally identified her stalker. He had a face and a name and most importantly, a connection to David. The connection that had been missing since the beginning.
 

An end was in sight. All she had to do was stay alive until Ron was behind bars.

###

Shaye directed her SUV toward the Garden District and called Jackson. He answered on the first ring.
 

“You got a minute?” she asked.

“I’ve got all the time you need. Did you find out anything at Fort Polk?”

She filled him in on her visit with Paul, Ron’s disappearing act, and the cooperation of his now terrified ex-girlfriend. “Is it enough to pick him up?”

“If the girlfriend makes the complaint, sure. Assuming we can find him.”

“Yeah, that’s the part that concerns me. I don’t necessarily believe he’s headed to Alaska, but I do believe he’s leaving town, just not before he finishes the job.”

“Where is Emma?”

Shaye pulled to a stop at a red light. “At work now, and she’s going to stay at the hospital until morning. They have some sort of employee room with cots in case they’re stuck overnight with a patient.”

“Good. That’s probably the safest place she could be right now, in New Orleans, anyway.”

“That’s what I thought. Did you get anything on Stephen Moore?”

“Yeah, in fact, I was just about to call you,” he said. “I paid Moore a visit.” He filled her in on what he’d discovered.

Shaye frowned. If she weren’t set on Ron being the stalker, Moore would definitely fill some of the slots. “I still think Ron’s our guy, but it sounds like Moore could become a problem or even be part of the problem. Maybe everything that’s been happening wasn’t the result of only one person.”

“It’s possible. Given what Schaffer told you about Ron and David, I agree that he’s probably the stalker, but I think Moore’s definitely capable of slipping across the line of legal and illegal, assuming he hasn’t already. At least now he’s on notice. Sometimes that’s all it takes to get someone to back off.”

“I hope you’re right,” Shaye said. “Did you turn up anything else on David?”

“Unfortunately, no. The man seemed to have materialized at age eighteen.”

“Which makes things all that more suspicious.”

“I get the feeling that this entire thing goes so much deeper than it appears. Way before his military service even.”

Shaye had shared the same feeling for a while now. The fact that Jackson felt the same way only confirmed her belief. “I know. The more I learn, the more I feel like I’m just scratching the surface. Everything I’ve found so far is awful…” She cut off her sentence before she admitted something she wasn’t willing to share with someone she barely knew.

“You’re almost afraid of the answer,” Jackson finished. “So am I.”

A feeling of relief and something else entirely swept through her. She frowned, trying to put her finger on it, and suddenly realized it was a connection. She felt a bond with Jackson that she had never felt for anyone but Corrine and Eleonore. It wasn’t as strong, but it was there—troubling and scary as hell.

She shook her head, refocusing on the case. There was plenty of time to work out her personal issues when Ron was behind bars and Emma could go on with her life. Right now, the only thing that mattered was finding Ron before he took his final shot at Emma.

“I’m pulling into my mom’s house, so I’ve got to get off the phone.”

“No problem. If the girlfriend shows tomorrow like she says she’s going to, I’ll let you know what happens. I’ll try to get on the case, but unfortunately, I don’t have much pull on those things.”

His frustration was so evident, and Shaye felt sorry for the position he was in. She had known from the moment she started her college job with a detective agency that she would never be able to work for someone else. The agency she worked for was one of the largest in the city, with fifteen investigators on staff and tons of cases moving through the office. Between her three-year stint there and listening to Corrine’s tales of bureaucratic job horror, Shaye was certain she needed to own her own business, preferably one that required a single employee—her.

“I appreciate anything you can manage,” Shaye said. “I know your hands are tied.”

“Thank you. And Shaye?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let down your guard. He might come after you as part of his farewell tour.”

Shaye hung up the phone and pulled up to the electric gate in front of her mother’s home, noting the unmarked police car parked across the street. She punched in the code and the gate slid back, allowing her to drive through, then closed silently behind her. Eleonore’s silver Mercedes was in the middle of the circular drive with Pierce’s black Aston Martin slotted behind her.
 

Shaye sighed. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with all of them at one time, but given the situation, she supposed it couldn’t be avoided. On the upside, given that he’d just spent a day on an airplane, Pierce wouldn’t stay long, and Eleonore had been on duty all day. Surely she’d be ready to escape to a hot shower and her favorite recliner.
 

Shaye let herself in the front door and heard the chattering upstairs coming from the direction of her mother’s bedroom. She took the stairs two at a time and found all three of them in Corrine’s sitting room. Her grandfather gave her a broad smile as soon as she entered the room, and she went over to give him a hug. If an ad agency had needed a model for the successful businessman look, Pierce would have been a shoo-in. At fifty-nine, he was fit and tanned, and the silver running through his black hair seemed to make women swoon. But then with his power and pocketbook, he could sport a purple mullet and women would still chase him. So far, Corrine’s mother was the only one who’d ever caught him.

“I hear you’ve taken on your first client?” he said.

“Yes,” Shaye said. The one-word answer was intentional. The more Pierce knew about her work, the more he would badger her to take a position at Archer Manufacturing. Some boring, unfulfilling nightmare that would pay her too much and have everyone else resenting her. No thanks.

“I guess you did enough insurance work for the other agency, so you know the ropes.”

She nodded, then glanced over at Corrine and Eleonore, who both shook their heads. Clearly, the three of them were on the same page as to how much information Pierce needed about the women in his life.

“I still want you to be careful,” Pierce said. “This situation with your mother concerns me. I’ve always worried that she’d be targeted by one of my enemies or one of those crazy people she deals with. It’s going to take a magician to sort it out.”