Reaper (11 page)

The guy smiled wryly. “I’ll remember that, for next time.”

After saying goodbye, Reaper and Wrath left the park. They walked half a block before Reaper felt his phone—the one he was using for China and her friends to contact him—vibrate. He dug it out.

Zip here. Brown Chevy, missing hubcap, Park & 6
th
.

Reaper texted back.

Thanks. Coming. Keep an eye on it if you can.

He got one back a moment later.

Gonna try.

“We’ve got a date with another one of the predators.”

“The ones going after the girls?” Wrath asked.

“Yep. Let’s move it.”

It took them five minutes, going at a dead run, to get to the address Zip had given Reaper. The boy wasn’t in sight, but a girl stepped out of the shadows. She looked puzzled for a second then asked tentatively, “You Reaper? You don’t look like what they said.”

“I am,” Reaper told her.

“Okay. Zip and Colly took off that way.” She pointed. “Said to tell you the car was heading toward Seventh, where some of the girls hang out, moving slow.”

“Thanks.”

“Cruising for a victim, I suspect,” Wrath said as they walked quickly toward Seventh.

“No shit.” Reaper saw Zip at the end of the block and started toward him, saying, “Is he still around?”

“Who the hell are you?” Zip asked.

Reaper chuckled. “The new, improved Reaper.”

“Aw shit, man. Why? You ain’t nearly as scary like that.”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, where’s the car?”

“Around the corner. The dude pulled up and parked but he didn’t do nothing yet ’cause none of the girls approached him.”

“How many girls?” Reaper asked as they started walking.

“Two. Colly’s keeping an eye on them.”

“Colly being?”

Zip grinned. “My guy.”

“Okay. Good that he’s there, but let’s hope he didn’t scare away our perp.” Reaper got into character again, shuffling onto the side street. Ahead, about halfway down, he saw the girls and a skinny kid who was maybe seventeen, if that.

Hardly someone who’ll terrorize the guy we’re looking for.

Unfortunately, those three were the only people in sight. The car was gone. With a sigh of disgust, Reaper led the way to the kids with Zip and Wrath right behind him.

“There wasn’t nothing we could do to keep him here,” the boy said to Zip while looking askance at Reaper and Wrath. “She”—he pointed to one of the girls—“went over to talk to him but…” He shrugged. Then his expression brightened. “I got the plate number.”

“Excellent,” Reaper said.

“What’s he? Undercover cop?” one of the girls, standing in a shadowed doorway with her companion, asked Zip.

“Nope. He’s one of the good guys,” Zip replied.

Reaper chuckled, glancing at Wrath. “Nothing wrong with cops,” Reaper told them.

The girl just snorted softly.

Returning his attention to Zip’s boyfriend, Reaper asked for the plate number. The kid handed him a torn scrap of paper, saying, “You think you can find him? He’s really…weird. Kept eyeing Missy like she was primo and he wanted some of her, but was afraid to make the first move. Then, when she went to the car he…” The kid looked at the girl Reaper figured was Missy.

“He said he wanted me to come with him behind the building. I was like, no way,” the girl told him, coming over to stand by Colly. “I said he should turn off the car, then I’d get in and blow him. He waved a fifty at me and damn I was tempted, but I heard about other girls going missing and Colly said he could be the guy, so I told him to fuck off and he got real pissed. Tried to grab my arm, but I moved away fast.” She grinned weakly. “Then he took off.”

“Can you describe him?” Reaper asked.

“Uh-huh. Red hair, mustache, maybe…thirtyish? Had muscles. I mean
big
ones. Here.” She put her hand on Reaper’s bicep. “Least they looked like they’d be big. He was wearing a sweatshirt. Blue with a logo on it.”

“Do you remember what it said?”

She shook her head. “It was too dark and the letters were black.”

“All right.” Reaper asked the other girl if she had anything to add.

She shook her head.

“You all did a great job,” he told them. “Now Wrath and I have more to work with.”

Zip looked at Wrath. “That’s what you call yourself?” He grinned. “Like the wrath of God my mom always threatened me with?”

Wrath nodded. “Sorta. But I don’t have lightning bolts.”

“Huh?”

“Saw that in a picture. God with lightning coming from his fingers,” Wrath explained.

“Man, that’s cool.”

“Is, isn’t it? But not something I can do.”

“Bummer.”

Reaper shook his head then suggested the kids head back to wherever they crashed, especially Missy. “And watch your backs. He’s probably gone, but there’s no sense taking chances. We’ll tag along behind you for a few blocks, just to be sure he’s not hanging around.”

The teens nodded. Zip and Colly walked on either side of the girls, obviously intending to keep them safe if the predator reappeared.

“They’re very protective of each other,” Wrath commented, as he and Reaper followed, keeping their distance.

“Yeah. Most street kids are—when they can be. And if they’re not loners.”

“Like you were?” Wrath asked softly.

“Most of the time, I was,” Reaper replied. “That was just me.”

“Still is,” Wrath said. “Most of the time.”

* * * *

“I’ll pass the license-plate number and the guy’s description on to vice,” Dallas said once he and Zack were back at the car.

They’d already stashed the majority of their clothing disguises in the trunk.

“On what grounds?” Zack asked.

“That one of my informants told me someone had tried to grab his on again, off again girlfriend and she told him as much as she remembered about the bastard.”

“Better yet,” Zack said as he started the car, “run a search on the plate to find out who he is.”

Dallas nodded, but didn’t look happy. “And take care of him ourselves? All we have is the word of those kids that he’s the right man. There must be dozens of cars fitting the description of the one he drives.”

“With a missing hubcap?”

“Okay, that narrows the odds some, but with no proof…”

“Just find out who he is. We can figure out what to do afterward.”

With a sigh, Dallas said, “Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”

Chapter Twelve

Since he was off on Thursday, Dallas didn’t get a chance to run the license plate until Friday. What he found out unsettled him. The car belonged to one Jeffery Kinsley, M.D. Dallas. He looked him up and found that the man was a plastic surgeon with offices in a very modern and very pricey high-rise building in one of the wealthier areas of the city. Another check told Dallas the car was one of three owned by the doctor. The other two were an MG and a Lexus, both this year’s.

So why drive the old one?

He shook his head at the stupidity of his question.

* * * *

“So that no one will think he’s anything more than a guy looking for a fast hookup,” Zack said several hours later when Dallas had given him the information. “Considering who he is, that’s not in the least surprising.”

“You know him?” Dallas asked.

“I know
about
him. He’s fairly prominent within his circle—family man, a large donor to some of the more prestigious charities, held in high regard by his colleagues. His list of patients includes the wives of some of my clients.”

“Then why the hell is he trying to abduct girls off the street?”

“That, my dear man, is the question.” Zack took a bite of his pasta, since they were eating dinner while having the discussion. He waved his fork at Dallas after a moment’s thought. “Do we have a home address for him? And as far as that goes, a photo or two? We do want to make certain he matches the description that Missy gave us, just so we know someone else in his household isn’t borrowing the car.”

“I have both. I emailed his driver’s license photo to myself.” He shook his head when Zack started to get up. “It’s not going anywhere. You can see it after dinner.”

“Don’t go all bossy on me,” Zack grumbled.

“Me?” Dallas chuckled when Zack nodded. “Question. If you know who he is, why don’t you already know what he looks like?”

“Because I’ve never actually met him. What I know, I’ve heard from my clients talking about him and from articles in the social section of the newspaper.”

“Okay. I know I’ve never run into him. But then, I doubt he’s the kind of person who makes it a habit to come into the Uptown district, except maybe to go through it to a downtown restaurant or the theater.”

“If we’re right, he comes there for something else as well. Does the man in the photo have a mustache and red hair?”

“Nope. Brown hair. However, he is in his thirties. Thirty-nine according to the license. He doesn’t look that old though. Hard to tell if he’s muscular, of course.”

“We’ll print it off and take it with us to show Missy. She might or might not recognize him from that.”

“I’ll make a copy first and play around with it. Give the guy red hair and the mustache to match what she told us. Hell, we’ll do a search to see if we can find any photos online. If he’s that well known, there have to be some somewhere.”

An hour later, Dallas had found several pictures of Jeffery Kinsley. In none of them did he have red hair, but one of them showed him with a small mustache. “Not that it’ll help much,” he said. “If—and I’m beginning to think it’s a big if—the man Missy saw is Kinsley, I’d say he’s wearing a wig and fake mustache.”

“Using the theory that having one feature that stands out draws attention to it, so a witness is less likely to remember the rest of his face,” Zack replied with a nod. “Makes sense to me. Print the newest one out, then we’ll get some sleep.”

“Now who’s being bossy?” Dallas asked with a grin. He did as Zack had asked, however, then closed down the computer.

They were in bed by seven, and would be up again at one in the morning to get ready for their almost nightly trip to the rundown area of the city that they patrolled.

* * * *

“Slow night for once,” Wrath commented, buttoning the tattered coat he was wearing to block the chill.

Reaper nodded, scanning an alley they were passing. “It would be nice if it stayed that way.”

“How are we going to find Missy? Presuming she’s out and about tonight.”

Reaper thumbed toward three kids leaning against the wall of a derelict building before going over to talk to them. The girl looked at him askance then broke into a wide grin.

“Going native on us, Reaper?” Raven asked.

“Protective coloring,” he replied.

“Bet I know why,” one of the boys, who Reaper knew went by the name Dabby, said. “Cops looking for you.”

“Now why would they be doing that?” Reaper said, one corner of his mouth cocking up with amusement.

“’Cause they don’t like… Hell, what’s that word the cop used?” Dabby looked at his friends.

“Vigilantes,” Raven told him before looking at Reaper with a worried frown. “They
are
looking for you and”—her gaze went to Wrath—“him too, maybe?”

“So I heard,” Reaper replied, smiling dryly.

“Sucks,” Raven said. “You were sexy in the leathers.”

“Yeah, well… Anyway, back to why I’m here right now. Do any of you know a girl who calls herself Missy?”

“Yep,” the third kid said. “Saw her earlier tonight. She was hanging with Kip and Colly over by Grant Middle School.”

“Thanks. I’ll check it out. And if you see her, tell her we need to talk. Okay? I’ll be… You know the building on Tyler that used to be a print shop?” When the trio nodded, Reaper said, “Tell her I’ll go by there on-and-off tonight and to wait there. It’s important.”

“Will do,” Raven replied.

“Good. Catch you later, I’m sure. And behave.” Reaper laughed when the three teens looked at him as if he was crazy, then he and Wrath took off, heading toward the school.

Luck was with them. As the school came in sight, they saw a small group of kids in the playground lit dimly by a streetlight on the corner. The boys seemed to be shooting baskets with, Reaper decided when he got closer, a half-inflated soccer ball. “Don’t get much bounce with that, do you?” he called out.

He and Wrath pushed open the gate in the fence surrounding the playground.

“Got a better idea?” an older boy replied defiantly as he turned to see who had asked.

“Yep. Stop by a gas station and use their air machine.”

The boy snorted. “Only one around here ain’t got one. You gotta be in the ‘burbs for that. And who are you to be telling me what to do, old man?”

“Shush, Vince,” Zip said, coming up to the boy. “That’s Reaper.”

“No way! From what I’ve heard, Reaper’s one tough-looking dude. That guy”—Vince pointed at Reaper—“couldn’t knock out a fly by the look of him.”

“Don’t judge by appearances,” Reaper said, joining them. He held out his hand. Cautiously, Vince took it and, seconds later, he was face down on the ground with him arm twisted behind his back. Reaper released him immediately, helping him get to his feet again.

“Damn, man, can you show me how to do that?” Vince asked hopefully.

“Later, maybe. Right now I need to talk to Missy.”

“About what?” Missy wanted to know, coming over from the edge of the playground where she and two other girls had been watching the guys.

“Let’s go where there’s more light and I’ll show you.”

One of the other boys snickered. “Usually a dude wants to go into a dark corner for that.”

Reaper rolled his eyes as he led the way to the corner of the yard by the streetlight. After opening his battered backpack, he took out a folder with the pictures of Kinsley that Wrath had printed out. Showing them to Missy, Reaper asked, “Is this the man you told me about?”

“Could be,” she said hesitantly as she looked through them. “This one’s pretty close.”