Chapter Eleven
Ash drove back to Remi’s house, slowing as he passed the patrol car to give the cop a small wave. The officer gave a nod and pulled away from the curb as Ash parked in the driveway. He stepped out of the car but, walking toward the front door, he abruptly decided on a detour.
Rounding the edge of the house, he crossed the short distance to peer into Doug Gates’s window. He made no effort to hide his approach. He wanted the man to know he was keeping a close watch on him. A quick glance assured him the telescope was gone, and no one was in the dining room or kitchen. Satisfied that the perv had learned his lesson, at least for now, he continued to the backyard.
He did a quick glance around, not expecting to see anything. The sun was shining brightly, and despite the frigid air, there were already people bustling around the neighborhood. But even as he turned toward the house, there was a rustle in one of the bushes next to the small porch.
Ash was moving before he could consider that whoever was lurking in the shadows might have a gun. His only thought was making sure they didn’t slip away.
Shoving his arms into the branches, he grasped the quilted material of a coat. Then, gritting his teeth, he pulled the wiggling stranger out of the bushes. There was a blast of foul language from his captive as Ash threw him down and pinned his arms to the hard ground.
“What’s your damage, you freak? Let me go,” the man yelled.
No, not a man, Ash realized as he gazed into the hood of the coat. The narrow face was dotted with blemishes and a few scraggly whiskers on his chin. He couldn’t be more than fifteen or sixteen years old.
“Not a chance,” Ash rasped, glaring down at the intruder.
This couldn’t be the Butcher. The kid would still have been in grade school when the first woman was murdered. But he might be working for the killer.
Fear flared through the boy’s pale eyes, but he remained belligerent. “I haven’t done nothing wrong.”
“First off, you’re trespassing on private property,” Ash snapped. “I can probably add stalking and invasion of privacy to the list.”
The boy stopped his struggles, his expression suddenly wary. “What are you? A cop?”
“Something like that.”
“Why are you staying with Ms. Walsh? I saw a patrol car earlier.” He paused to lick his lips. “Is she in trouble?”
There was genuine concern in the kid’s voice that made Ash hesitate. Surely if he was the lookout for a crazed serial killer, he would have some convincing cover story? And if he was a common thief, how did he know Remi’s name?
“How do you know Ms. Walsh?” he demanded.
“She’s my teacher. At the youth center.”
The words barely left the boy’s mouth when the sliding door opened and Remi stepped onto the back porch.
“Ash?”
“Go back inside,” he commanded.
A waste of breath, of course. She stubbornly moved to the edge of the porch to gaze down at the boy who was lying spread-eagle on the ground.
“Drew? What’s going on?”
The kid eagerly turned his head toward Remi. “I came here to see you and this lunatic attacked me.”
“You can let him go, Ash,” Remi said.
He hesitated. He felt like an idiot holding down a boy who was half his weight, but this was no time to make mistakes. “You know him?”
“Yes,” she quickly assured him. “He’s Drew Tyson. One of my students.”
Cautiously, Ash released his hold on the boy’s arms. “I caught him hiding in the bushes.”
With the awkward movements of a boy who was still adjusting to a recent growth spurt, Drew scrambled to his feet. Next to him, Ash pushed himself upright and grabbed the boy’s coat and yanked it open. A quick glance assured him there weren’t any weapons hidden beneath the thick material. Drew glared at him but clearly accepted that Ash wasn’t going to let him anywhere near Remi unless he was sure he wasn’t carrying.
“I was waiting for the cop to leave,” Drew said to Remi.
“Cop?” Remi sent the boy a puzzled glance. “What cop?”
Drew pointed toward the corner of the block. “The one who was parked over there.”
Remi turned her head, arching her brows in a silent question.
Ash shrugged. “Jax has a few uniforms keeping an eye on the house when they can,” he told her.
“Jax asked them to be there?” she pressed.
He shrugged. “You know how overprotective he is.” She gave a resigned shake of her head, but before she could chide him, Ash was returning his attention to the boy who was regarding them with a curious expression. “Why are you creeping around here?”
Drew waved his hands in a gesture of impatience. “I told you, I need to talk to Ms. Walsh.”
“About what?” Ash demanded.
The boy stuck out his chin. “It’s private.”
Remi loudly cleared her throat. “Can we have this conversation inside? It’s freezing out here.”
Ash’s gaze remained on the boy. “Do you trust him in your house?”
“Of course I do.” She waved a hand toward Drew, who strolled past Ash with a cocky grin before jogging up the steps of the porch.
Remi led the boy inside and Ash quickly glanced through the bushes to make sure there weren’t any other lurkers before hurrying behind them. He was stepping into the kitchen as Remi was urging Drew to take a seat at the breakfast bar.
“Have you eaten?” she asked the boy.
“No.” He gave a small shake of his head as he pulled off his coat and dropped it on the floor.
Ash leaned against the wall, close enough to keep the kid from causing any problems without making him feel that he was being crowded.
“I’ll make you some soup and sandwiches while you tell me why you haven’t been in school,” Remi said, ignoring the early hour as she pulled out a can of chicken noodle soup from the cabinet and dumped the contents in a bowl.
Drew sent a distrustful glance toward Ash. “I don’t want to talk in front of a cop.”
“Don’t worry.” Remi put the bowl in the microwave and moved to pull out four slices of bread. She quickly slathered them with peanut butter. “Whatever you tell me will be confidential.”
“Not necessarily,” Ash warned.
“Ash.” Remi sent him a glare that warned she was close to ordering him to leave the room. Maybe even the house. “He’s just a frightened boy.”
Drew stiffened his spine, a dark blush staining his cheeks. “I’m a man, not a boy.”
Ash battled back his protective instincts. It didn’t take a detective to see that the boy was tired and dirty and hungry. Or that he had come to Remi for help, not to hurt her.
“Fine,” he muttered. Still, he remained where he was standing.
Remi sighed, clearly deciding he’d conceded as much as he was willing. She finished up the sandwiches and put them on a plate to place them in front of her unexpected guest. “Tell me,” she urged.
Drew’s sullen demeanor remained, but a hint of fear lurked in the depths of his eyes. He was scared, and like any scared kid, he was trying to cover it with a pretense of indifference.
“Dad got picked up last week,” he said.
Remi didn’t look surprised. “Drugs?”
Drew hunched a shoulder. “It was a setup. The bas—” He bit off the word as Remi narrowed her eyes. “The cops have been waiting for the chance to throw him back in jail since he got out the last time.”
Remi moved to get the soup as the boy devoured the sandwiches in large bites. “Does he have anyone to post bail for him?” she asked, returning to the breakfast bar with the steaming bowl and a spoon.
“No.”
Remi continued to move around the kitchen, pouring a large glass of milk and grabbing a napkin before returning to the boy, who’d finished off the sandwiches.
“Where are you staying?” she asked.
“You know.” Drew ducked his head to wolf down the soup at the same impressive speed as the sandwiches. “I’ve been bouncing between friends.”
Ash’s lips twitched. If the boy thought that was going to satisfy Remi, he was sadly mistaken.
On cue, Remi folded her arms and studied the boy with a stern expression. “Do you have any family I can call?”
“My aunt said she can’t take me in.” Drew lifted the bowl to drain the last of the soup. “The bitch.”
“Drew,” Remi chided.
The boy lowered the empty bowl and shrugged. “She says I’m a bad influence on her precious kids, but she’s the one who hides her empty bottles of vodka in the garage.”
Ash could sense Remi mentally scratching off the aunt from the list of potential caretakers for Drew.
“What about a caseworker?” she asked.
The boy flinched, as if Remi had slapped him in the face. “I won’t go back into the system. I’ll take my chances on the street.”
Remi quickly realized her mistake, reaching for her cell phone sitting on the counter. “We’ll work something out,” she told Drew. “Let me talk to Mr. Hill.”
Drew frowned. “The head dude from the center?”
“Yep.” Remi scrolled through her numbers. “He has contacts all over the city.”
Drew slid off his stool, his hands curling into tight fists. Ash took a step forward, although he didn’t think the boy was angry. More likely he was terrified. Which made him even more dangerous.
“What sort of contacts?”
Remi held the boy’s gaze, her expression somber. “Do you trust me, Drew?”
There was a silence before the boy gave a slow nod of his head. “Yeah, I trust you.”
“Sit back down and I’ll make the call.”
There was another pause before Drew was sliding back on the stool. Remi sent him an encouraging smile that any young boy would walk over hot coals to earn.
Or any man, Ash wryly acknowledged.
* * *
Remi headed into the living room, dialing Lamar Hill’s number. It’d been a shock to glance out her back window to see Ash holding someone on the ground. At first, she’d assumed he’d returned from his meeting with Jax and had caught her creepy neighbor trying to peek in the window. She’d fully intended to call the cops and have him hauled away before Ash could kill him. Then, a closer glance had revealed the intruder was way too skinny to be Doug Gates.
Plus, she was fairly certain she recognized the silver, quilted coat. She’d bought one exactly like it to give to Drew Tyson.
Hurrying onto the porch, she’d felt a flare of relief to see the boy’s familiar face. She’d been truly worried that he might take off and they would never see him again.
Of course, she’d had to deal with Ash’s overprotective aggression, but once she had Drew settled in her kitchen, she’d been fairly confident she could convince him to accept her help.
Reaching the owner of the youth center, she’d revealed the fact that Drew was at her house and that his dad was back in jail. Lamar was quick to leap into action, putting her on hold as he reached out to his various contacts. In a surprisingly short amount of time, he’d found a perfect place for the teen.
Once assured that Drew’s immediate future was going to be taken care of, she returned to the kitchen. She glanced around, finding Ash still keeping an unwavering watch on the boy who sat at the breakfast bar.
At last noticing her presence, both guys turned to glance in her direction. She smiled, moving to grab a cupcake from a tray next to the sink.
Ash had given a lift of his brows when he’d noticed the red velvet cupcakes with piles of cream cheese frosting she’d had delivered from a nearby bakery, but he’d kept his mouth shut. Smart man. She was a stress eater. So sue her.
“Mr. Hill is coming to pick you up,” she told Drew as she set the pastry in front of him.
Drew scowled, his face pale and smudged with dirt. She felt a pang of sympathy. He was just a boy being forced to place his life in the hands of strangers.
“Where’s he taking me?” Drew demanded.
“He knows a family who does emergency foster care, Wade and Stella Williams. They’re going to meet you at the center,” she said. “He promised they were decent people and that they are going to take great care of you.”
Drew hunched his shoulders, grabbing the cupcake and eating half of it in one bite. “I’ve heard that a lot,” he told her, licking icing off his lips.
“He mentioned that Joe Hearn stayed with them last year and that you can call him and check them out if you want.”
A portion of Drew’s brittle fear eased at her words. “I remember that,” he said in slow, thoughtful tones. As if he was reconsidering whether he was going to take off and disappear before Lamar Hill arrived. “Joe said they were cool. For old folks.”
Remi held his pale gaze. “You’ll give them a chance?”
Drew finished the cupcake and wiped his hands on his jeans. Typical boy.
“I suppose,” he agreed, a stubborn expression tightening his features. “It’ll only be for a little while anyway. Dad will get the judge straightened out and we’ll be together again.”
Not about to encourage the boy’s belief that his father was going to be released any time soon, she offered a smile. Right now, all that mattered was keeping him here until Lamar arrived.
“Do you want more milk?” she asked.
“Sure.” Waiting until Remi replenished his glass, Drew deliberately glanced toward the silent Ash. “Why do you have cops hanging around?”
Remi hesitated. She didn’t want to share what was happening with her. Drew might be street savvy, but he was still just a teen. He shouldn’t be troubled with fears of serial killers. Then she squared her shoulders. If she wasn’t entirely honest with the boy, he would never trust her again.
“There was a woman murdered a couple of days ago,” she said, ignoring Ash’s startled glance.
Drew looked uninterested, as if he’d been hoping for something more thrilling than another murder. Then a sudden excitement widened his eyes.
“The one in the park?” he asked. “I seen her picture on the TV last night. She looked like you.”
“Yes.” Remi suppressed a shiver. “Until they find the killer, I’m going to have some extra protection.”
“Do they think he’s after you?”
“We just want to be careful.”
Drew nodded, the excitement remaining as he tried to act casual. “You’re not going to believe it, but I had a friend who was in that park the morning she was found.”
It was the last thing Remi had been expecting. She blinked, wondering if he was making up stories to impress her.
“What friend?”
“Roo—” Drew sharply bit off the word, his face flushing with anger at himself. “Nobody.”
Ash stepped forward. “Tell me about your friend.”
Drew slid off the stool, putting space between himself and the larger man. “I ain’t getting him in trouble.”
“No trouble, I swear,” Remi tried to soothe the boy.
“Bullshit,” Drew muttered.
Ash’s expression hardened. “Did he see anything?”
“I don’t know.” Drew held up his hands as Ash scowled with frustration. “I don’t. He just told me that he was in the park that morning. Said it freaked him out to think he might have walked past a dead body and not even realized it.”
Remi pressed a hand to her stomach. Was it possible there might have been an eyewitness who could ID the Butcher?
“What time did he leave the park?” she asked.
Drew refused to meet her gaze. “He didn’t say.”
“This is important, Drew,” Ash insisted in stern tones. “We need to find the killer before he can harm Ms. Walsh.”
The boy stuck out his chin in a mutinous gesture and Remi swallowed a sigh. Ash was no doubt an excellent interrogator when it came to murder suspects, but he didn’t seem to know much about scared juveniles.
“I’m sorry. I like you, Ms. Walsh,” Drew muttered. “You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had, but if word gets out that I’m a squealer, I’m as good as dead.”
“That’s fine,” she assured the boy, sending Ash a warning glance. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.”
Ash flattened his lips but grudgingly turned his questioning to a less-stressful subject. “How did you know where Ms. Walsh lives?” he demanded.
Drew’s tension eased visibly. “Google.”
Remi jerked. She hadn’t considered how the teen had known how to track her down. Certainly she’d never given out her address. Not to anyone. Now she studied Drew with a sudden suspicion.
“How long have you been hanging around the house?” she asked.
He gave a vague lift of his shoulder. “Three or four days.”
“Did you leave a note for me?”
Color crept beneath Drew’s cheeks, emphasizing his youth.
“I didn’t have your cell number to call. It wasn’t until I shoved the note under the door that I remembered I hadn’t put my name on it.”
Remi exchanged a silent glance with Ash. They now knew that Drew was the one who shoved the note under her door, and he’d probably been peeking in her window the night before too.
Which meant that it hadn’t been the Butcher.
A trickle of relief crept through her. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how horrifying it was to think that the monster was creeping around her property.
Ash folded his arms over his chest, his gaze returning to Drew. “Have you noticed anyone taking an interest in Ms. Walsh while you were hanging around the house?”
“I’ve seen a few patrol cars parked around the corner.”
Remi swallowed her urge to chide Ash for wasting precious police time to keep a watch on her house. Did she honestly want to give up the extra protection? Besides, if the Butcher did have an obsession with her, there was a chance he would decide to seek her out. What better opportunity for the cops to capture him?
Thankfully unaware of her cowardly thoughts, Ash continued to question Drew. “Anyone else?”
Drew glanced toward Remi with a curl to his lips. “Yeah. I think your neighbor is a perv. I know someone who can take care of him if you want.”
Remi gave a shake of her head. She doubted the teen actually knew a hit man, but then again, he probably knew plenty of drug users. One of them might be willing to do anything for their next fix.
“I can handle it,” she assured her student, turning her head toward the living room as she heard a knock on the front door. “I think your ride is here.”
Drew grimaced but reached for his jacket and pulled it on without protest. A small miracle. As he started toward Remi, however, Ash suddenly reached out his arm.
“Take this,” he commanded.
Drew frowned, taking the business card Ash held in his fingers. “What is it?”
“My cell number,” Ash said. “Call me if you hear anything that might help keep Ms. Walsh safe.”
Drew gave a slow nod. “Okay.”
Remi herded the boy out of the kitchen and toward the front porch, where Lamar Hill was waiting for them. She was afraid that the longer she gave Drew to consider the thought of being taken in by foster parents, the more likely he would be to bolt. Thankfully, Lamar was a master at working with troubled boys and quickly had Drew distracted with promises of playing video games once they reached the youth center.
With a small nod toward Remi, the large man efficiently urged Drew toward his waiting car, then pulled away with a squeal of his tires. Remi rolled her eyes. Lamar would always be a kid at heart.
Something she loved about him.
Stepping back into the house, Remi closed the door and headed into the kitchen.
“I hope he doesn’t run off,” she said, speaking more to herself than the man who was eyeing her with an unreadable expression. “God knows how long his dad is going to be locked up this time.”
Ash leaned against the counter as she gathered the dirty dishes and placed them in the sink.
“I appreciate your concern for the boy,” he said.
She sent him a questioning glance. “But?”
He hesitated, as if choosing his words with care. “But he had information that might help catch the Butcher. He needs to be interviewed by Jax.”
She grabbed a towel, wiping her hands as she allowed a smug smile to curve her lips. “Wouldn’t it be easier to go talk with the guy who was actually in the park?”
He looked confused before his eyes suddenly widened. “You know who it is?”
“Drew said ‘Roo’ before he could stop himself,” she reminded him.
“That name means something to you?”
She nodded. “He hangs around the same neighborhood as the youth center,” she told him. “Lamar calls the cops when he catches him trying to sell drugs to our kids, but he always comes back. I’m sure that’s how Drew met him.”
“There could be more than one Roo, but it’s not a common nickname.” Ash lifted his arm to glance at his watch. “It’s early for any drug dealers to be on the streets, but he has to be sleeping somewhere in the area. I’m going to see if I can find him.”
“Uh-uh.” Remi moved to stand directly in front of her companion. “We’re going.”
His jaw tightened. He intended to be stubborn about this. “Remi.”
She shrugged, intending to be even more stubborn. Not because she felt like Ash wasn’t competent to track down Roo, but because she was familiar with the neighborhood. It would be a lot easier for her to get the information they needed. “You don’t know what he looks like.”
He scowled at her simple logic. “I’ve been tracking down suspects for a long time,” he informed her. “Give me a description and I’ll find him.”
Remi shook her head. “Roo moves from street to street. No one in that neighborhood will talk to you.”
“And they’ll talk to you?”
“Most of them,” she told him without hesitation. Since volunteering at the youth center, she’d tried to reach out to people living on the streets. It wasn’t much, but she knew that every little bit helped to a person in need. “I bring sandwiches and blankets to hand out when it’s cold. If Roo is around, we’ll find him.”
Ash lifted his hands, giving a shake of his head. “Why do I feel like I’m losing control of this investigation?”
Remi smiled. “Either I’m your partner or I’m not.”
He released a slow breath between his clenched teeth. As if he was wondering why he bothered to argue with her.
“You’re my partner,” he conceded.
“I’ll drive,” Remi said, heading toward her bedroom to grab her coat.
It was almost noon when Remi at last parked her car across the street from the youth center. Despite Ash’s sizzling impatience, she’d insisted on stopping at a grocery store to pick up a stack of sandwiches from the deli department.
Now she climbed out of the car and waited for Ash to join her. Holding the grocery bag in one hand, she gave a nod of her head to gesture toward the narrow side street. They walked in silence, Ash on full alert while Remi was more interested in the handful of people who were shuffling along the pavement.
The local streets were home to dozens of people who’d fallen on hard times. Most appeared and disappeared like phantoms, either seeking help and climbing out of the gutters or falling even deeper into the cracks. There were, however, a dozen regulars Remi knew on a first-name basis.
They turned the corner, and Remi caught sight of a familiar form huddled in a doorway. Maggie’s thin body was covered by a shabby blanket Remi had brought her last month, and a red knit stocking hat she wore whether it was twenty below zero or eighty degrees was pulled low on her head. She had a few wispy gray hairs that managed to escape and blow around her narrow face that was heavily lined. The woman was probably in her early fifties, but she looked closer to seventy.
Hearing their approach, Maggie quickly shoved something behind her, probably a bottle of cheap vodka. That was her drug of choice. Remi slowed her pace, glancing toward the man at her side.
“Stay behind me,” she said in a low voice.
Ash’s jaw hardened with a predictable annoyance. “Why?”
“Because you look like a cop,” she said without apology. “Maggie won’t talk if she thinks you’re here to hassle her.”
“I don’t look like a cop,” he protested.
Remi rolled her eyes. “Your entire family was born looking like cops. Just stay behind me.”
“What happened to the whole partner thing?” he demanded.
“You’re my partner.” She deliberately stepped in front of him, glancing over her shoulder. “But back there.”
“Christ,” he muttered, but he lagged behind her as she approached the older woman.
Either because he trusted her judgment or, more likely, because Maggie hadn’t bathed in several days. Maybe weeks.
Remi ignored the stench and moved to squat in front of the woman. She’d met Maggie six months ago, when she’d come into the shelter that was attached to the youth center. Once upon a time, Maggie had been a wife and mother who’d lived in a beautiful town house. Now she struggled to survive.
Remi smiled warmly at the woman. Maggie had told Remi that the worst part of living on the street was that no one ever looked at her anymore. It was as if she was invisible. “Hey, Maggie, how are you?”
Maggie sent a wary glance toward Ash before answering. “Same ol’, same ol’.”
“Did you get to the clinic to have your feet treated?” Remi asked. The older woman had been complaining about blisters that had become infected on the bottom of her soles.
“Yep. And I got some spiffy new shoes.” Maggie pulled back the blanket to reveal the black sneakers.
Remi took a moment to admire the shoes. “Very nice.”
Maggie grimaced, an old pain flaring through her dark eyes. No doubt she’d once worn designer shoes. Now she was stuck in sneakers pulled from a charity box. “They at least don’t have any holes in them,” she said.
Remi held out the grocery bag. “I have some sandwiches.”
“Thanks.” The older woman hesitantly reached in to grab the food and tucked it under the blanket. As if afraid someone might take it away. Then she sent another glance toward Ash. “Who’s that?”
“A friend.” Remi glanced over her shoulder, not surprised to discover that the stubborn man had moved until he was just an inch behind her. “He’s here to help keep me safe,” she told Maggie.
“About time you figured out how dangerous it is out here.” The woman pointed her finger toward Ash. “I hope you’re carrying.”
Ash shrugged. “I can take care of Ms. Walsh.”
Maggie sniffed, clearly disappointed that Ash hadn’t pulled out a gun and waved it around. Slowly, she swiveled her head back to study Remi.
“This isn’t your usual day to be out here. Unless I’ve blacked out again.”
“No, it’s not my usual day,” Remi assured her. “I’m looking for Roo.”
“Roo?” Maggie looked alarmed. She’d become a mother figure to many of the younger people on the street. At least when she was sober enough to remember them. “Is he in trouble?”
“Nope,” Remi assured her. “I just have a couple of questions for him.”
Maggie heaved a sigh. “He’s not gonna talk. I’ve tried to help, but he’s going down a bad road.”
“Have you seen him today?” Remi asked.
Maggie tilted back her head and squinted at the bright sunlight. “No, but it’s early for him to be out. This time of day he’s usually crashed at that peach house a block east of here.”
“Thanks, Maggie.” Remi reached out to lightly touch Maggie’s shoulder. It felt dangerously frail beneath the blanket. “Go to the shelter tonight. It’s too cold to be out here.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll be in before night falls. You stay safe.”
“I will.”
Straightening, Remi led Ash away from the woman, who was eagerly pulling out her bottle of vodka to lift it to her lips. A pang of sadness tugged at Remi’s heart. Maggie was killing herself, but until she was willing to accept help, there was nothing Remi could do.
She was still lost in her dark thoughts as they reached the corner. About to cross the street, she was halted as Ash reached out to grasp her arm. Turning her head, she met his fierce glare.
“Remi, I’ve accepted that you’re more familiar with this neighborhood than I am, but I draw the line at letting you walk into a crack house.”