Chasing Thunder Page 7

  “So how do you know M.J.?” he finally asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t.” She didn’t know how much she should share about what happened in the alley, so she said nothing. Instead, she whitewashed the events to something a little more believable and less incriminating. “I lost all my belongings my first day in L.A., so she helped me out.”

  He nodded. “You were lucky you ran into her first. It’s dangerous out there for a girl on her own.”

  She gulped down a swig of root beer and nodded.

  “That’s what she does,” he stated, reaching for another chip.

  “What’s that?”

  It was his turn to shrug. “Help teens. Runaways mostly.”

  “Oh,” was all she said.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re safe with her. With us. If you were worried about it, that is.”

  “I was,” she admitted honestly. “I met some other people. I ended up sleeping in an abandoned building last night. When I woke up this morning, my bag and my shoes were gone. Along with my money and my ID. I guess the good news is that there’s nothing left to steal.”

  She tried to make it a joke, but couldn’t even bring herself to laugh. Kid was immediately sympathetic. “M.J. will help with that, too. Anything you need, she’ll get it for you.”

  It seemed too good to be true, especially after everything she’d been through already. “Why?” she asked.

  He shrugged, as if she had asked him why the sun rose and set. “It’s like her calling or something. But don’t worry. If anyone can keep you safe, it’s her.”

  Baby thought about the fight in the alley. Safety wasn’t the question. The question was the price to be paid when the bill came due. “So are you a biker too?”

  He laughed. “More a mascot, I think. Ever since our folks died, Snake has kept me pretty far away from that lifestyle. He wants me to go to college, to ‘use my brain,’ to ‘have choices,’” he added, using air quotes.

  “Can’t you have all that and ride?”

  Kid smiled. He liked this girl already. “Snake’s paranoid. Something happened a long time ago. It changed him. Changed all of them,” he amended. He searched her face for a split second before he forged on with a story Baby got the feeling he rarely shared. She stopped eating to listen. “M.J.’s granddad was killed when his bike store got robbed. They roughed up the guys, including Snake. M.J. was there, she saw it happen. After that, Snake got in with a bad crowd. Felt safer, you know?”

  “Gangs?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “He saw both sides of it. He knows how easy it is to get caught up in it all. You cross the wrong people, it can ruin everything.”

  She nodded. She had learned that lesson already.

  “As long as he has me, he has a reason to stay straight. After our folks died, that’s what he did. He’s got the bar and the work he does for the shop. But he keeps me pretty far away from it.”

  She could tell by the look on his face that this didn’t sit well with him. “Did they ever catch them?” she asked. “The people who killed her grandpa?”

  He shook his head. “Unsolved. According to M.J., the police investigation was botched. If she didn’t trust them before, she hated them for every single day after. We’ve found it’s best not to bring it up.”

  She nodded. She could already tell that M.J. wasn’t one to leave fighting crime to the boys in blue. And Baby could hardly argue. It certainly hadn’t been any cop who’d saved her skin.

  The timer on the oven sounded, and Kid returned with two piping hot pizzas already cut into slices and placed on classic earthenware dishes. They decimated both pies within ten minutes. After their tummies were filled, Baby felt primed and ready to take the Kid on in a two-person video game she had always wanted to play, but never had the opportunity.

  It was almost dawn by the time she went back to the cozy bedroom on the first floor. She paused in front of the chest of drawers, picking up one of the framed photos for a closer look. An older man with a silver beard almost as long as his salt-and-pepper ponytail sat astride a motorcycle decked out with an American flag design. In front of him sat a redheaded girl all of five years old, smiling big for the camera as she reached up to hold the handlebars, secure in her grandpa’s love.

  Baby smiled as she replaced the photo, and was still smiling when she climbed into bed.

  4. RENEGADE

  “I know she’s here, Cooper. I just have a couple of questions, that’s all.”

  Snake glared down his nose at the aging paper-pusher on his porch. Detective Harry Landers was no stranger to the Scoggins household. He could usually be counted upon to show up on their doorstep within twelve hours following M.J.’s return. Snake opened his mouth to dismiss him, but M.J. darted under his arm to face the police officer herself.

  “So am I under arrest this time, Harry? Because you know that’s the only way you’re going to get me to talk to you.”

  Landers sighed. “Why do you always make things so much harder than they have to be, M.J.?”

  She smiled sweetly. “A girl’s gotta have a hobby.”

  He was not amused, and he held up a photo of a dead body in a dark alley. “Those hobbies include offing reputed gang members in Hollywood?”

  She was stone faced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you don’t,” he answered immediately. “Well, maybe you know a little bit about the teenaged witness who fled the scene?”

  She said nothing. She wasn’t about to make this cop’s job any easier. She just cocked an eyebrow and waited.

  “We’ve reason to believe that girl is in danger.” He held up another photo, this time a candid selfie of Tammy and Baby, the one Tammy had taken at the bus terminal.

  “Was there another murder?” M.J. immediately asked.

  “That is the question, isn’t it?” Landers pondered. “If we could find this girl and question her about it, maybe we’d have an answer.”

  Snake watched M.J.’s face as she processed the new information. Nothing registered, not even the shock of another dead hooker. “Good for the one that got away, I guess.” M.J. shrugged.

  “You know as well as I do that this guy doesn’t leave witnesses. This girl is in danger, M.J.”

  “Did you find another body?”M.J.

  He sighed. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “But you can bully and intimidate me for info and I’m just supposed to provide it, right? Typical. I suppose Dick sent you.”

  He shook his head. “He’d have my head if he knew I was here.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So why are you here?”

  “Because I’d like to get ahead of this guy, M.J. For once. We all want the same thing here. Let’s pool our resources and make that happen.”

  After a long moment, M.J. reached for the photo. “Clearly this was taken at some kind of bus terminal. Is that where you found it?”

  He offered no answer. She chortled and shook her head. “So much for sharing information.” She knew he wouldn’t. Not with a civilian. She was there to serve him, not the other way around. Just like it had always been. She finally offered her own shrug. “Maybe they’re both out of the city, safe somewhere else. And for their sake, I hope they are. The only way anyone is a threat to this guy is if you guys sniff them out. You’ve been doing all his dirty work for him. Remember your last eyewitness? How long was she in your care before he got to her, too? You take street kids into custody and it’s a death sentence. And you know it.”

  “We are not the enemy, M.J.”

  She scoffed and Snake finally stepped in. “There. You wanted to ask her a question and you did. Is there anything else we can do for you this fine morning, Officer?”

  Officer Landers glanced between the two of them. He knew his long shot had officially become a dead end. He offered his card. “If you see her, tell her to call me.”

  M.J. didn’t lift a finger. “I know the number.”

&n
bsp; His lips thinned into a tight line as he pocketed his card. With a salute, he trotted off the porch and toward his unmarked car. They watched him drive away, and Snake glanced down at her. “Maybe you should fill me in on what’s going on.”

  She shook her head and headed back into the house. “I already told you. The less you know, the better. You’re a respectable citizen now.”

  “M.J.,” he started, but she had already disappeared down the hall to wake Baby.

  When Baby emerged a half hour later, she wore some cast-off clothes from Kid, including a T-shirt and athletic shorts with an elastic waistband. Her outfit still swallowed her whole, but she looked more like a suburban skater girl than a homeless runaway. Though Kid topped her ensemble off with a knit cap, M.J.’s first stop with her new young friend was the hair salon. When Baby suggested that she change her hair color from its striking platinum to a gothic black, M.J. immediately understood that this girl knew full well how much danger she was in. That was why she had offered neither information nor resistance when M.J. rode to her rescue. Nowhere she could go would be any safer.

  The hairstylist put sapphire-blue highlights in her new shorter and darker ’do. Baby offered M.J. a shy smile. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  “No worries,” M.J. dismissed the notion. She paid the stylist and led Baby back out to the truck that Snake had let her borrow for the day.

  “Seriously,” Baby insisted as she climbed in the cab. “Maybe I could do small jobs around the house or something. I want to earn my keep.”

  M.J. smirked. “You mean you’ll do anything not to be sent home.”

  Baby didn’t even blink. “That too.”

  M.J. met her gaze. “No worries,” she reiterated. She didn’t say anything else the twenty minutes or so it took them to pull into the Galleria parking lot. Baby followed her into the three-story building without question. From her new name to her new hairdo, Baby was ready to turn into a new person. She felt she would owe M.J. forever for the kindnesses bestowed, especially after they hit the third store and walked out with three more bags. All she had to do was try something on and M.J. would whip out a credit card to pay for it.

  When they stopped for lunch at the food court, Baby could hide her curiosity no longer. “How can you afford all this?”

  M.J. finished off a wonton. “I won the lottery.”

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  M.J. chuckled. “No, not seriously.” Then, more reluctantly, “I own a bike shop.”

  Baby lit up. “That’s perfect! I can work for you. To pay you back for everything.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Baby.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. “Nothing comes for free in this world. I want to pay my own way.”

  M.J. considered her for a moment. It was far too dangerous to put her out in the open anywhere, much less at Wyndryder. But she did look like a brand-new girl, far removed from the blonde stray she’d rescued only the night before. “We’ll figure something out,” she promised as she gathered her trash. “There’s still shopping to be done and we’re burning daylight.”

  True to her word, they scoured every inch of that mall. Their first priority was purchasing the essentials, but M.J. didn’t stop there. If Baby showed interest in anything, from knickknacks to books, M.J. would sneak it into the mix. This included a brand-new sketchbook and a set of pencils.

  “You draw?”

  Baby shrugged. “Doodle, mostly. It’s not like I could make any money doing it.”

  M.J. mirrored her shrug. “Maybe, maybe not. But you could do something important with it, and that means a lot more than something as incidental as money.”

  The sun had set by the time they returned to Snake’s house, carrying enough bags to set Baby up with a whole new wardrobe and accessories thrown in for good measure. In an effort to bury Haley Roberts for good, Baby had opted for more alternative clothes and makeup, the complete opposite of the more conservative persona she’d been groomed from birth to adopt. Her look was still modest, since Baby still didn’t want to attract any kind of sexual attention, but it shaded her as a bolder, tougher goth chick that fit in with her new biker friends.

  M.J. didn’t try to influence any of her choices, allowing her to pick what items she liked, not what M.J. thought she should wear. Though in the end, it was M.J. herself that Baby modeled herself after. She wanted to be feminine but tough, so she modeled her punk look after the biker chick at her side.

  Snake was taken aback when she entered the kitchen to model one of her new outfits. His eyebrow rose as he glanced at M.J.. “Looks like a whole new girl.”

  “Or,” M.J. corrected as she put her hands on Baby’s shoulders, “maybe this is just who she really is.”

  “I picked out all my clothes. I’ve actually wanted to dress like this for years,” Baby began, but then she trailed off, as if she had said too much.

  Neither Snake nor M.J. pursued the conversation. Instead, Snake lifted a big plate of raw meat. “Well, whoever you are, I hope you brought your appetite. The grill is fired up and you are an hour away from the best barbecue this side of Memphis.”

  Baby brightened. “Can I help?”

  “Absolutely.” He grinned as he led her toward the back door. “But if you want to sacrifice a goat, you’re on your own time.”

  She giggled and followed him outside. M.J. glanced at her watch. Time was not on her side. She took the steps to the upstairs loft two at a time.

  Kid opened the door to his room. Its dark walls were covered with posters and guitars. He pulled his earphones down to his neck. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “I’m actually on my way back out again. Just tell Snake I’ll be back late.”

  “Why can’t you tell him?”

  “Because he’ll try to talk me out of it,” she answered simply.

  Kid eyed her suspiciously. She obviously wanted something. After a moment, she slid the missing piece into place. “I need you to do me a favor. Just between us.”

  “Okay,” he said. She was the only person he knew who treated him like an adult, so he usually accommodated her. Generally it involved computer hacking, but this time she had a different request.

  “I need you to get some information out of Baby.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “I need to know who she was with when she got to L.A., and why she isn’t with them now.”

  He seemed surprised by the unusual request. “Is that all?”

  “For now,” she answered over her shoulder as she headed back down the stairs.

  5. THE SEEKER

  Detective Harry Landers refilled his mug of thick black coffee. The thicker the better, as far as he was concerned. He knew he was about to pull another all-nighter. There had been so many lately, he was unable to remember the last time he’d slept in his own bed. But that was the job. And it was one he genuinely loved most of the time, the last four months notwithstanding.

  February 21. The date was embedded in his brain. He had been a homicide cop for almost twenty years. In that time he had seen things that would have brought a normal man to his knees. But before February 21, he could walk right from a crime scene to a restaurant and wolf down a three-course meal. He could sleep at night with nary a nightmare. He could look himself in the mirror with nary a regret.

  That was before he’d seen the first victim of these newest, and thus far unsolved, murder cases. At thirteen, she had been barely old enough to begin to sexually mature. But that didn’t stop this faceless, unknown monster from taking her apart, piece by piece, starting with her genitals.

  He still fought the gag reflex when he thought about it. He saw the scene whenever he closed his eyes. She’d been strewn like garbage in the Angeles National Forest. It was a gruesome scene that had been stumbled upon by a couple of hikers who had gone off-trail. Unfortunately for all of them, it looked like it had been lifted right from a horror movie: the flies, the smell, the dried blood and rotting
skin of scattered, nearly unidentifiable body parts. It had taken days to recover all the evidence.

  That evidence painted a disturbing picture. She had been no more than a child, but no one came forward to claim her. They did all the composites and ran a computer-generated image showing their Jane Doe alive and well, with her bright blonde hair and smiling, wide blue eyes, which ran nearly twenty-four seven on news stations across the country. Yet no one claimed her. They scoured all the databases, but she remained unidentified for months, well after a second victim was discovered, this time on a rocky stretch of deserted beach in Malibu. They didn’t get their first breakthrough until the third victim, whose identifiable birthmark traced her back to an abduction in Norway, where the twelve-year-old had gone missing on her way to school.

  The case had received a lot of attention at the time, because her wealthy parents had significant political influence. Local law enforcement peeled back each layer of evidence. According to emails and chat records found on her computer and in her discarded phone, she had been approached and wooed by a stranger who sympathized with her struggle against her oppressive parents. He had promised to rescue her and give her the life of her dreams. Yet as they pursued the lead, it became clear that nothing he’d told the girl had been true, and the photo he had used was a stock photo from the United States. The name had been an alias, one that had already hit Interpol’s radar as belonging to a potential sex trafficker who serviced his clientele with teenaged blondes with blue eyes.

  The targets appeared fresh faced, wholesome, and innocent. What he had in mind for them was anything but. It was a striking juxtaposition.

  That was when they had finally pinpointed that the killer was targeting sex workers, teen sex workers in particular. After that, they were able to identify their first Jane Doe, who had been sold into slavery by her parents. And not in some faraway country, either, but right here at home in Tennessee.