Safeword (21 page)

“You’re a good kid, Danny. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” Leslie gave his waist a squeeze, and Danny looked down at her, his face a roiling mass of emotions: affection, hope, disappointment, fear, and no small amount of cynicism.

“I just hope Mrs. K will listen to you.”

“I hope so, too.”

“So you saw Rick again? How did you know he was connected to Ditmar?” Myah asked, getting us back on track.

“Well, that guy I saw him hitting up came in the coffee shop a couple minutes later. I heard him grumbling about not being anyone’s whore. Felicity was half an hour late, so I figured she stood me up and I had time to talk to the guy, see if he was okay, and maybe I could find out something about this Rick guy, something that would get me out of trouble. So I asked him what he knew about the creep. He bought me a cup of coffee, and we talked. Turned out Rick told him a little more than he did me. The guy said he’d call the cops if the creep didn’t leave him alone, and Rick just said he’d get his detective buddy to take care of it again like he did last time some punk kid got him arrested. I ended up spilling my guts to the guy. I don’t know why, but he just listened to me, you know? First time someone listened to me about the whole situation.

“I didn’t know Rick’s cop friend was John Ditmar until that Sunday at church. Saw them shaking hands in the parking lot, and Rick thanked him for taking care of his ‘speeding ticket.’” Danny raised a sardonic brow as he made air quotes with his fingers. “He had his arm around some blonde woman with a baby in her arms. Made me sick. This guy’s got a family at home, a little baby, even, and he’s out trolling for pros? Nasty asshole.”

“Do you remember what the guy from the coffee shop’s name was?”

Danny shook his head. “I don’t think he gave it to me. Should have asked for it, though. He seemed to get it, you know? I don’t have a lot of friends, so I can’t be picky about the ones I do make. Shit, I thought Ditmar was an all right guy from the times we volunteered together, but I was really wrong about that.”

“Where’s your case now?” Myah asked.

“They dropped the charges, thanks to Leslie.” He looked fondly at the woman shivering at his side.

“I called the DA’s office and spoke with them about Danny’s future, his lack of a record, and that he’s one of my best volunteers. I made sure they knew they didn’t have a criminal on their hands now, but if they slapped him with this charge, it would destroy his future and maybe they’d have one later. They know me from being head of one of the community service programs they use for those on probation, and they know I’ll tell them straight. They dropped the charges for lack of evidence. Now we just have to get Danny back with Mrs. K, and he’ll be good to go.” She smiled at him proudly.

“Anyone else you know of have a low opinion of Ditmar?” I asked.

Both of them shook their heads.

“I think we’re done here,” Myah said, walking to the door. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

Trooping back into the organized chaos of the kitchen, we could see the restless people milling closer to the serving window. I turned to Leslie after giving Myah a meaningful look I thought she understood.

“Have you got room for two more volunteers on your line this afternoon?”

Leslie’s smile brightened, and Danny clapped my shoulder as he shuffled past to return to his task with the bread.

“Of course! Aprons are on the back of that door,” she pointed. “And we need runners, if you don’t mind.”

“Runners?” Myah asked, handing me an apron.

“Refilling our food bins when we get low. It goes fast, and we don’t have time to do it ourselves. Not when this is the only meal some people will have for a day or two.” Leslie moved to the middle of the kitchen, holding her arms out. The volunteers gathered in a circle and linked hands. Danny let out an ear piercing whistle, and those in the main dining hall settled into a passable imitation of quiet.

“Let’s all bow our heads,” Leslie said loud enough for everyone to hear.

§§§

“COME IN,” Kittridge said through his closed door in response to my knock. Myah and I entered and sat down. I loosed a weary sigh as Myah passed over the file on Ditmar, and we remained quiet for several moments while the sergeant caught up. If we could ever get a break on these cases, I planned to sleep for a week. Ben’s voice wove through my memory.
Can you keep doing this job? Because it’s hard for me to watch you go off every day knowing what could happen to you while on duty.

“Got a call from the lab,” Kittridge said, sitting back in his chair and regarding us with cool professionalism. “They got their PCR machine fixed, so they can do the DNA testing from this scene. I already told them to light a fire under their asses on it. We should have the results in a few days.”

I shook my head, leaning forward. “Sir, this guy is escalating. I’ve never seen such brutality as I did at Ditmar’s house. Everything tossed around wasn’t just thrown aside, it was destroyed. He was unrecognizable from the beating he suffered. I’m not just talking about bruises and blood. I’m talking about complete annihilation. He was a pulpy mess.”

Kittridge was quite for a long moment, then, “Coming from you, that’s saying something, DeGrassi. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to wait for confirmation that this death belongs to the guy who did Stevenson and Halloran. I’m pretty sure.” I ticked points off on my fingers, noting the similarities of the method of entry, missing items, weapon belonging to the victim, as well as the nature of the attack—sexual assault included. I pulled out my notepad and flipped through the pages, though I didn’t need them. The memory was burned into my brain. “There was something else. The pictures and analysis won’t be done until later, but there was something nailed to the wall above the bed. A black piece of paper in the shape of a heart with chalk scrawled on it, like a kid’s art project or something.”

“What’d it say?” Kittridge asked, leaning forward.

“‘Suffer the little children.’”

He frowned.

“Any idea what that means?”

Myah cleared her throat. “Aside from the religious connotations, I have a few ideas, sir, but nothing proven. Two of the three cases have a common thread. Halloran had a run-in with a homeless woman and her eight-year-old daughter during that snow storm a week before his death. They were squatting in an empty store, and he and his patrol partner booted them out, but didn’t see them to a shelter like they should have. They ended up sleeping in a park. In the morning, the girl was dead from exposure. Just this afternoon, we talked with someone at the soup kitchen at Ditmar’s church, and found out John got a buddy out of trouble after he was arrested for soliciting a minor for prostitution. Just a misdemeanor for a first offense, but the kid he propositioned, Danny Taylor, was a foster kid who also happened to volunteer at the church, who is
not
a pro. The arrest got him kicked out of the best foster home he’d had, and he was upset about it. Especially when he overheard the john after services this past weekend thanking Ditmar for ‘fixing his speeding ticket.’”

“Kid have an alibi?”

Myah said, “He was in school at the time Ditmar’s murder happened, multiple witnesses. He’s currently staying with the manager of the soup kitchen until he can get back into his foster family’s good graces, and he’s not going to do anything to screw up his chances. Good kid.”

Kittridge shook his head. “What’s any of this got to do with Alex Dennan?”

“That’s the piece of the puzzle we don’t have yet. Other than he was a child when he was abducted, what happened to him doesn’t look similar to either the little homeless girl or Danny Taylor. It’s not a perfect theory, but it’s reasonable he could feel a connection to these kids getting, in his opinion, screwed by the cops. And the note at Ditmar’s scene supports it.”

“So what do you need from me?” Kittridge asked.

“We want to offer Sugar’s age progression to the public,” I said, leaning forward and looking at Kittridge earnestly. “Ask for tips to the whereabouts of this person of interest. No names, or we’ll have the crazies crawling out of every corner of the country, not just the state. If someone’s seen him, we can pinpoint his general location and case the area. Try to spot him and bring him in.”

“Flimsy.” Kittridge shook his head, his lips thinning. “You don’t even know if those age progressions are accurate.”

I bet Sugar would have something to say about that. “Not for sure, but I’ve been reading people a long time, Sarge,” I argued. “Strange may not have shown recognition, but he was stressed when he saw the pic with long hair. That’d be my guess as to the most accurate of the three age progressions.”

“Man hours we don’t have the staff for, a phone call-in center, access to some of the case details for the press.... You’re asking an awful lot here.”

“We have nothing else,” Myah admitted, her expression almost pleading. “We have three dead men and rock solid evidence to connect the perp, if only we knew where to find him. A plea to the public for information is logical, even if it’s a pain in the ass.”

Kittridge pursed his lips, bouncing the eraser of a pencil rhythmically against his desk blotter. “Okay,” he finally said. “But I want you two on the phones or pulling pawn shop duty. You don’t get to lounge back sipping lattes—yes, Myah, I know about your coffee runs—while someone else does the shit work. You’re going to get dirty in this, too.”

“Of course,” Myah assured him, nonplussed. “What else would we be doing?”

Kittridge pointed at me. “I want you to be the one speaking to the press.”

“Me?” I asked, surprised and not a little unnerved by the idea.

“Yes. They’ll give it more weight coming from you. You’re the survivor, DeGrassi. You’re the poster boy for solving crime for them. Rescued in the nick of time and all that.”

“That would be thanks to Myah, not anything I did,” I reminded him.

“I didn’t say it made sense, the way the press or public see you, Gavin. I just know it will work in our favor. You’ve shown remarkable strength the last few weeks, and I think you can handle it.” Kittridge turned to his computer, a nonverbal dismissal. “Talk to the major networks and we’ll get the phones set up for airing the photo first thing in the morning. Go home. Get some sleep. You’re going to need it, with the amount of false information you’re about to get.”

§§§

TWO HOURS after getting Kittridge’s permission for the media strategy, I thumbed the combination on the new lock on our back door. Ben had upgraded the security system to an interactive one with a phone app that allowed us to arm the system, as well as lock and unlock the doors remotely. It also boasted three security cameras accessible via our phones or the security company’s website should the alarm trip while we were away.

The beeps and boops of the key-pad on the living room wall silenced the louder thirty-second warning chimes as I disarmed it and reset it for “stay” mode.

“Did you lock the door again?” Ben called from the bedroom.

“Paranoid much?” I muttered under my breath, moving to do so before answering. “Yes, all’s clear along the northern battlements.” I shrugged off my jacket and hung it up, then moved to the bed where I did a face plant into the duvet.

“Har har. Laugh now, but I feel better. No one’s getting in here.” His hand landed warmly on the back of my head and he massaged my scalp. “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” I said, voice muffled by the comforter before I rolled to my side and propped my head up on my hand. “I had to swallow my pride and go to the media for help with this case. We’re getting nowhere, even though we have a name. Kittridge thought we’d get more miles out of the vultures if it were me doing the talking instead of Myah.”

Ben froze, frowning at the cover of the book splayed face down on his chest. When he spoke again, he was wary. “What did you tell the press?”

“The usual,” I said, getting up and acting like his reaction wasn’t at all uncharacteristic. From the bathroom, I continued to talk. “Gave them a copy of the age progression with generic ‘have you seen this man’ inquiries. Have to answer phones tomorrow to weed through the whack jobs seeking attention. But Dennan’s off the grid. He may as well not have existed these last seven years. Only way we’re going to find him is if someone sees him and calls us immediately.”

“You didn’t talk to them about you? Or put your face on the news again?”

I’d just shoved a toothbrush in my mouth, so I went to the doorway where he could see me and shook my head. A quick spit and rinse later, I was back, shedding the rest of my clothes and lying beside him, pulling the covers up to my waist.

“I don’t want you in the limelight if some crazy guy is fixated on you,” he said quietly. “You’ve dealt with enough.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, deliberately pushing his book off his chest and to the floor with a smirk. “I did not talk about me. Jan Aldrich tried to get me to, but I was adamant that I’m not the important news here. Basically, I used my recognizable face to remind them I fight crime, and I need their help. Most of them were gracious and willing to do what they could, probing the case and not me. That’s just good reporting. The Walking Mouth, however, should get a job at the tabloids or for a Hollywood smear website. She’d be perfect.”

Ben laced his fingers through mine, pulling me tighter into his side. “What’s this?” he asked, bringing my bruised knuckles to his lips. “Literally fighting crime?”

“No,” I chuckled. “Literally fighting Trent. He spouted off, and I lost my temper.”

“Gavin,” Ben admonished, though the rub of his hand up and down my arm was soothing, not jostling. “You can control yourself better than that.”

“Why should I?” I asked petulantly. “Life is short, so why should I just take some bigoted dickhead’s bullying to keep the peace? I have just as much right to be how I am as he does to be a fucker. And I let his nose know it. As well as a molar.”

“Gavin!” Ben said, somewhat shocked, but he wasn’t totally able to suppress a laugh. “Bet it felt good.”

I frowned. “I don’t know. I saw red, and the next thing I knew, I was outside with Myah and Trent’s lieutenant was holding me back.”