Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (5 page)

“How does she usually get in touch with them?”

“Skype.”

“Simple, easy, and free.” CC mulled over the information.

Skype was a great way to communicate. All the girl needed to chat with her parents was a computer and an Internet connection.

“Did she use the family computer or her own?”

“Her parents said she had a laptop,” Mulligan said. “They bought it for her before she left home so she could keep in touch with them. She also had a cell and a prepaid international calling card. But she mostly used Skype.”

“Where is the laptop?”

“I have no idea,” Mulligan said. “The family who hired her won’t let me check her room. The wife claims that Annie quit and she could care less where the little whore is.”

“Would that be a direct quote?” Max asked suddenly interested.

“Yes.”

“I can see why you’re concerned,” CC said. “Let me run this by the boss. If he’s okay with it, I’d like to check things out with you.”

“Thanks.”

She got up from her chair and cast a glance at Max, “Interested?”

“I’m busy.” He waved her off.

“Yeah, watching the clock ticking away must be exhausting.” CC charged over to Captain Rousseau’s office.

There was almost a spring in her step. She couldn’t believe how excited she was to finally have something to do. She had to remind herself that the case could turn into nothing. A teenager away from her family for the first time in a new city. Young Annie could have simply developed a case of wanderlust. But something about her employer’s reaction didn’t feel right. The most likely scenario was that the man of the house had crossed the line and the wife sent the girl packing. No need to bother with formalities when your marriage is at stake. Just kick the kid to the curb and be done with it.

CC’s own mother had done the same when she was all of fifteen. She didn’t hesitate throwing the teenager out on the streets when she discovered that she was gay. Then again it might have had more to do with CC’s constant accusations regarding her step-father’s depraved behavior.

Fortunately, Caitlin wasn’t a typical teenager. Unknown to her mother and stepfather, she already had two jobs and had rented a room. She had prepared herself for the day her so-called parents would exile her from her kid sister’s life.

“So what do you think?” she eagerly asked her commanding officer.

“I think it’s worth a look,” he said. “And a little fresh air wouldn’t kill you.”

“No kidding.”

“Yeah, about that.” He sounded hesitant. “Let me know how you like working with Mulligan.”

“Yeah?”

“Just a thought. Max is leaving an open spot. As you may suspect, cutbacks are coming. He did me a real favor by turning in his papers.”

“Which would mean that there really isn’t an opening.”

“Yeah, there is,” he mumbled. “Andy.”

“Damn.”

“Not a word,” he said. “He’s had his chances. How many different ways can you tell a guy to sober up or get out?”

“True enough.” CC couldn’t help agreeing. Andy had long passed being a functioning alcoholic. A drunk with a gun wasn’t a good combination. “Does that mean I’ll be riding with Frank?”

“I haven’t decided.” He surprised CC with a smile. “You’re a very popular gal these days. Everyone wants Max’s chair.”

“Normally, I’m only popular during baseball season, thanks to my season tickets. What’s making me the hot chick all of a sudden?”

“You’re kidding right? You have the highest closure rate in the city.” He shook his head. “Hell you’ve banged up two serial killers. That Fisher idiot, and let’s not forget back when you were uniform you were the one who collared Jeffrey Charles West.”

“Geez.” She flinched. “That sick fuck. That was dumb luck, and you know it.”

“I hate when you act all humble. It usually means that you’re going to hit me up for something big or do something incredibly stupid.”

“Maybe I’ll do a little of both just to annoy you.”

“Out! Try to do something useful.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mulligan! Let’s roll!” she shouted across the squad room.

“Where to first?”

“The employment agency. It’s getting late. I’d like a quick chat with them before they close for the night. Then we should swing over and have a chat with the Sterns.”

“I take it you’re driving?”

“You catch on quick.”

Chapter 4

Val made good time getting to Boston. The tip about Beaumont’s whereabouts sounded too good to be true. The caller wished to remain anonymous. Nothing new about that. Most people didn’t want criminals to know that they were the ones who ratted them out. If the tip wasn’t bogus, Beaumont would have arrived at 7:00 p.m. at the Peter Pan bus terminal located at South Station, Boston. By the time the tipster had called in, it was too late to catch the bus at one of its stops. They were going to try to catch the bus on its route. It all seemed a little iffy by the time Val entered the conversation. The best hope seemed to be to catch the runner when he got off the bus in Boston.

If the information was good, this would be a very quick and hopefully satisfying trip for Val. Which might calm her boss down. He was less than pleased when she phoned and tried to explain why she was putting her personal time on hold. If it weren’t for the words “child molester,” he probably would have told her to stay out of it.

Once she had the okay, she tried calling the Boston field office. After speaking to Deputy Finn of the Marshal Service, Val was less than happy. She got the distinct impression the man was doing nothing more than blowing smoke up her butt. Upon arriving in Boston, her suspicions were confirmed. Nothing had been done. No be-on-the-look-out alert, better known as a BOLO, was issued, the local cops hadn’t been notified, and not one person thought it prudent to swing by the bus terminal to check out the story. Finn’s attitude irked her. She knew his type. “I’m a man and I’ve been doing this longer so don’t tell me how to do my job.” She hated guys like Finn. No matter how wrong or pigheaded they acted, she had to work with them and deal with the fallout.

After trying to discuss the matter with Finn face-to-face, she was no longer upset. She was pissed off beyond belief. It was all she could do to keep from whipping out her stun gun and expressing her displeasure. She resisted the urge and politely excused herself from Finn’s office. She took a calming breath and reached for her cell phone.

“Tanner, it’s Val. Who do we know in Boston?” She listened to Tanner’s suggestion. “No I’m not looking to get laid,” she growled. “I need to step on some toes. I’ve got to get around an arrogant bureaucratic dipstick. Got a name?” She couldn’t help pumping her fist when Tanner supplied her with an all-too-familiar name. “Yeah, that’ll wake up the locals. No, I’ve got his number, back from when we did that little job together in Bogotá. Thanks, Tanner.” Val punched in the number. After jumping through several hoops, she reached her caller.

“Val? How the hell are you?”

“I’m fine, sir. Just hit a little problem in Boston,” she said. “I hate to bother you.”

“Knock off that ‘sir’ crap,” he scolded her playfully. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Just looking for a little interagency cooperation.”

*   *  *

CC was humming as she navigated the streets of Boston. It felt good to be outside and doing something. She prayed that the girl would be found safe and sound. If it weren’t for the nagging feeling that something was amiss, she would have sent Mulligan on her way. The employment agency had little to offer. Mrs. Stern failed to contact them to inform them that Annie was no longer in their employment. Which in itself sent up a red flag. If Annie had just up and quit as the Sterns claimed, why wouldn’t they report her actions to her employer?

CC parked in front of the oversized monstrosity that was the residence of Natalie and J.M. Charles Stern. She quickly surmised that the Sterns were Village Hills people, the type that felt a need to distinguish which part of the city they lived in. CC couldn’t stomach snarky posers who lived to prove that they were better than everyone else.

“This should be interesting,” she muttered as they approached the front door.

“You again?” Mrs. Stern seemed surprised. “Now what?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Stern.” CC took the lead. Her tone was pleasant, masking her disdain.

Mrs. Stern was thin with signs of going to the gym on a semi-regular basis. Her fashionable yet still age-appropriate clothing matched her neatly coifed hair. Something about this woman immediately irked CC. It was the way she spoke, her lips never quite parting. It was very Wellesley or Vassar, very Village Hills. The cold, polite tone of someone who was quite certain they were better than you and most people walking the planet. Basically she was a snob. CC hated boorish people who assumed that the world truly did revolve around them.

“I’m Detective Calloway, and I believe you’ve already met Detective Mulligan.”

Mrs. Stern simply grunted in response. Not a guttural grunt, just an annoying throat clearing that informed the officers that they were wasting her precious time.

“I know you’re a busy woman,” CC said. “Ms. Fraser’s parents have been a nuisance. Detective Mulligan tried to explain that a girl that age is capable of anything.”

“That is what I have been trying to tell you people.” It hadn’t escaped CC the way Mrs. Stern stressed the words
you people
. It was a primitive maneuver to once again inform CC and Leigh that they were wasting her time. “The girl was a whore, spreading her legs for anyone.”

The unexpected harsh words were another tip-off that something was most definitely amiss in the Stern household. Mrs. Stern stood there, her thin arms folded tightly against her chest. CC studied her for a moment, mentally sizing up the woman. After Mrs. Stern released a dismissive sigh, CC went into action. She took a step back so she wasn’t towering over the tiny woman. She clutched her chest as if she were in shock.

“My goodness.” CC shook her head while Leigh gaped at her. “I’m sorry, but having that element around your family must have been extremely trying. Still, you know how some parents are. The Frasers won’t believe what is blatantly obvious. If it’s not too much trouble, could we have a look around Annie’s room? There might be a clue as to where she ran off to.”

“No.” Once again her tone was polite, yet CC could detect an underlying bitterness.

“Mrs. Stern—” Leigh said.

“I said no.”

CC took a calming breath while casting a reassuring glance at the formidable Mrs. Stern. She had quickly deduced the only way to get anything out of this woman was to bow down before her. She needed to let Mrs. Stern think she had the upper hand. It was a classic chess move, just like the one Emma had cornered her with earlier that morning.

“Detective. Mulligan,” she said to Leigh, “Mrs. Stern has been through enough. She trusted that girl to look after her children. My apologies, Mrs. Stern. She isn’t married. Divorced,” she said in a hushed tone. To further forge their solidarity, she waved her wedding band in Mrs. Stern’s direction.

Mrs. Stern released a deep sympathetic sigh as if to say that she understood. Leigh’s jaw dropped as she watched the exchange.

“I am sorry to bother you with all these petty details,” CC said. “When Annie left, how did she do it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Did she call a cab, walk, or perhaps a friend came and picked her up?” CC relished the fact that Mrs. Stern finally seemed off balance.

“She just left.” Mrs. Stern hesitated. “Like I told this one.” She wagged a finger at Leigh. “Up and quit and walked out the door. Probably to the trolley stop at the bottom of the hill.”

“Mrs. Stern.” CC’s voice oozed with sweetness and light. “We won’t disturb you any further. Although I can’t promise that we won’t return. I wish that I could, but as I’ve said before, the girl’s parents just won’t listen to reason.”

“If you must.”

Mrs. Stern thrust a dismissive wave and closed the front door. The detectives silently shuffled back to the car.

“I don’t miss the old Crown Vics,” CC said as she stood before the sleek black SUV. “These are more comfortable and fit in a little better. Okay, time for our next move.”

“Can I just ask what that was all about?” Leigh seemed more curious than angry.

“That lady isn’t going to let us in,” CC said. “I know her type. She’s right, and the rest of the world should shut up and listen to her. The kids are probably pampered little snots.”

“From what I’ve seen of the Stern boys, yes they are,” Mulligan said. “We’re not going to find out anything if we don’t get a peek in the girl’s room.”

“We need a nosy neighbor.”

“A nosy neighbor?”

“Everyone has one or is one.” CC scanned the pristine tree lined neighborhood.

“Across the street,” Leigh said. “Every time I’ve been here, I noticed a nice older lady out in her garden, watching me. Nothing overt, but how much pruning does a bush need? There she is.” Leigh waved to the silver-haired woman who appeared to be attending to her rose bushes.

CC smiled when the woman returned the wave. “Nosy and friendly. I love it. The icing on the cake would be if she hates Mrs. Stern.” They made their way across the street.

“Good morning,” Leigh said sweetly. “I just love what you’ve done with your yard. I’m Detective Mulligan and this is Detective Calloway.”

The woman flashed a perfect smile. She stripped off her gardening gloves and offered her hand. CC was impressed by the woman’s firm handshake. Maybe she did spend all day in the garden.

“Thelma Himple. Just like Cagney and Lacey. Oops, sorry. You must get that a lot.”

“Yes,” CC said and smiled. “But we never get tired of it. Just wish some of our cases were as exciting as theirs. It is far too nice a day to spend it back at the station doing paperwork.”

“I miss the distinction of having four seasons,” the neighbor said, “but I have to admit having summer so late in the year is nice. Confuses the bejesus out of my crocuses, though.”