She’d been stuck in her worst nightmare, forced to ‘entertain’ his ‘associates’ over and over again. The other girls got paid, but Linnea didn’t, because he’d had leverage. Information that he’d been able to use to force her compliance.
Some of his associates used condoms. The others would share her fate. There was some satisfaction in that. Although she had worried about the women his associates went home to. They didn’t deserve to be infected too, but she’d been powerless to stop any of it. Once he’d known she was HIV positive, she’d have become a liability. He’d have had no reason to keep her alive and once she was gone, he’d have gone after Andy.
She’d have done anything to protect Andy Gold. But none of that mattered anymore.
At least she knew to warn whoever was on duty at the clinic today. Because she would go. Get sewn up. Again. She’d live long enough to kill the man who’d done this to her.
The man who’d killed Andy like he was nothing.
She just needed a little cash. Enough to get back to the city. She looked up and down the street, relieved to see a bus stop a block away. There was also a hotel at the entrance to the interstate. It wasn’t a fancy place, but she’d be able to get a cab from there. If she could find enough cash for the fare. She hoped so. It was late on a Sunday and the buses wouldn’t be running that often. It was cold. And I’m still bleeding.
Not sure how much time she had before he or his goons arrived, she quickly lifted the lid of the center console and peered inside. Nothing. It was as clean as new. The glove box was also empty, but the pouch on the back of the front passenger seat yielded a single piece of paper, folded over and over until it was only a little bigger than a postage stamp.
Linnea shoved it in her coat pocket and continued searching for cash. Even some change would be helpful. Maybe she’d even find enough to buy some food. The smell of hamburgers made her stomach growl and she tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d eaten. Focus. Get to the clinic first and then eat.
She opened the ashtray, exhaling in a rush. Cash – a roll of twenties, secured by a rubber band. Which made sense, actually. Prostitution and drugs – his bread and butter – were generally cash-only businesses. There were at least ten twenties in the roll. Maybe fifteen. That would more than pay for a cab. She’d have enough left over to buy another weapon, since she’d left her switchblade in his arm.
She shoved the money into her pocket. Stepping away from the SUV, she slammed the door, locked it, and pocketed the key.
The blood she’d left on the SUV’s seat was deadly. If the cops found the vehicle first, they’d have gloves on. They’d be protected. If he or his thugs found it first, they deserved whatever exposure they got.
But no one else deserved exposure to her blood. She hoped a locked door would keep them out. At least her coat was still clean. She’d sit on it once she was in a taxi.
She started walking toward the little hotel, throwing the SUV keys into the first storm sewer she came across. Stay away from the road, she told herself. Stick to the shadows. Which wasn’t too hard, because that was how she’d lived for the last six months.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Saturday 19 December, 4.50 P.M.
I need to explain something to you. Meredith sat next to Mallory on a small sofa in the hotel manager’s office, her arm tight around the girl’s thin shoulders, Adam’s words echoing in her head so loudly that it was all she could hear. How could he explain away months of ignoring her? He wasn’t interested, plain and simple.
Yes, he’d sent her pictures he’d colored – even painted – but that only meant he was letting her know he was recovering. That he was getting a hold on his PTSD.
If he even starts to say ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ I’m going to fucking hit him in the face.
‘Hey,’ Wendi said from the doorway, thankfully halting her thoughts. Wendi’s face was tear-streaked, her eyes red. Trembling head to toe, she rushed into the room and wrapped Mallory in her arms. ‘You’re both okay. I was so scared. But you’re okay.’
Meredith met her friend’s eyes over Mallory’s shoulder and shook her head. Not okay, she mouthed. At all.
‘You’re unhurt,’ Wendi corrected in a fierce whisper. ‘All I knew was that there was a shooting. I was afraid you’d been hit.’
‘I told you she was fine,’ Agent Colby said in that very quiet way he had. ‘That they were both fine.’ He came into the room and winced when his gaze passed over Meredith’s hair. ‘We’ll get your statements squared away and take you home. You can shower.’
Meredith clenched her eyes shut, her stomach heaving again. ‘It’s in my hair?’
‘Not much,’ Wendi said quickly – way too quickly. ‘It looks like . . . like the dust bunny fuzz you pull out of your dryer filter.’ She sounded so pleased with herself.
Meredith opened her eyes, her lips curving wryly at her tiny best friend. ‘You are such an awful liar, Wen.’
‘She really is,’ Colby said, affectionately tugging a lock of Wendi’s hair.
Wendi looked over her shoulder at him, frowning. ‘Mer can’t stay by herself in her house. That man tried to kill her today. What if he comes back?’
Mallory stiffened and Meredith sighed. ‘Wendi, stop. You’re scaring Mallory.’
But Colby just nodded as if Meredith hadn’t said a word. ‘She can stay at the big house,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some vacation saved up. I’ll take a few days, stay with you too.’
Meredith rolled her eyes when Wendi made goo-goo eyes at Parrish Colby like a lovesick teenager. But the man was sweet and he absolutely doted on Wendi.
I’m just jealous, she admitted. Adam Kimble had voiced no such worry about her welfare. Considering someone did just try to kill me. And the thought brought a new wave of nausea. God. Somebody tried to kill me . . . and a restaurant full of people.
Who? Who could have hated her that much? Who had that much disregard for human life? Well, lots of her clients’ parents. The court-referred ones, anyway. That was usually why those clients were her clients. The adults in their lives had been too selfish – or evil – to keep them safe.
‘We have a free room on the third floor,’ Wendi was saying. ‘Mer can sleep there.’
Wendi and Colby had been discussing her living arrangements while her mind had gone wandering, so Meredith made herself smile and take back at least some control of her life. ‘Thank you, Parrish. I really appreciate it, but I think it’s better if I don’t stay with the girls at Mariposa House. It will be disruptive to their routine.’ She glanced at Mallory and swallowed hard. She might have been killed today. Because she was with me. ‘And it might put the girls in danger. I need to keep my distance until this . . . situation is resolved.’
‘You didn’t cause this, Mer,’ Wendi protested.
‘I know.’ And she did. Logically. ‘Doesn’t mitigate the risk I pose by staying there. Parrish, you stay with Wendi. Keep the girls safe. I’ll get Kendra to stay with me.’ Kendra had only been a cop a little more than a year, but the woman could take care of herself. So can I, Meredith thought, but she didn’t want to be alone tonight.
Can I call you later? Tonight? Please? It had been the please that had left her undone. Dammit.
‘Kenny’s on duty today,’ Meredith added quickly, because Wendi looked ready to argue. ‘She’ll be free tonight.’ She lifted a brow. ‘Oh, come on. Do you really think Kendra will let anyone in my house who shouldn’t be there?’
That might even include Adam. Like Wendi, Kendra had told her to move on. Neither of the Cullen sisters wasted any love on Adam Kimble.
‘No, she won’t.’ Wendi looked unhappy, but didn’t push it. ‘All right.’ She looked up at Colby again. ‘Can we leave now?’
‘I’ll find out,’ Colby said. ‘Trip and Kimble are here somewhere. This is their case.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,