Unseen (31 page)

Paul said, “I bet she tells her husband she’s spending time with the kids.”

Lena held back a response. Now that she was going to be a mother, she found herself far less judgmental. “We’ve got forty-five minutes, right?”

“Give or take,” DeShawn said. “Waller has a reputation for being late.”

Paul always had to contradict. “He might show up early, case the joint.”

“Call me on my cell if he does.” Lena pushed open the door. “I’ll be right back.”

She kept her head down as she walked across the parking lot. There was little chance of her being seen. They had set up in front of a Target, fifty yards from the Chick-fil-A. Tapping into the restaurant’s wireless security system was less than legal, but the
manager should’ve better encrypted his wireless hotspot. They weren’t going to use the video anyway. DeShawn wasn’t recording. They were keeping a tight leash on Mr. Snitch. At least Lena was. She didn’t trust just the audio. She wanted to see him with her own eyes.

There was something wrong with the guy. She’d only met him a few days ago, but in her gut, Lena knew there was something off about him. She had felt it when she first sat across from him at the jail. She had especially felt it when he’d told her he could hand her Sid Waller.

Sidney Michael Waller.

Lena was more than familiar with the name. Everyone at the station was. Waller wasn’t just a drug dealer. He wasn’t just a pimp and a gunrunner. Last year, they’d all worked around the clock to make a case against Waller for raping his niece and murdering his sister. And then the niece had recanted. Witnesses disappeared. People changed their stories. The case had fallen apart three days before the trial started and everyone, especially Lena, had walked away with a bad taste in their mouths.

But then Mr. Snitch had showed up with a golden ticket. She couldn’t have written a better script for the man. He’d confirmed details about the shooting gallery off the interstate. The guns. The whores. The vast amount of drugs moving through the city while Sid Waller sat back and counted the dough. The case practically made itself. Waller would spend years behind bars. He’d get far more time for the guns than he would have off the rape.

But only if Lena ignored her gut. She had to keep tamping down the little voice inside her head that said this was too easy. She’d been gunning for Waller for a year and suddenly he fell into her lap? What was Mr. Snitch getting out of this? The immunity deal was good, but was skipping eight months in prison really worth risking his life?

Lena couldn’t let herself dwell on the questions too long. She couldn’t let this operation fall apart.

The truth was that Sid Waller had gotten under her skin. Lena was determined to return the favor. She brought him in for questioning every time she found a plausible excuse. She couldn’t put him behind bars—yet—but she could certainly run up his legal bills. Just last week, Waller had called her a cunt during an interview. Two weeks before that, he’d told her all the different ways he could fuck her. That all of this had been recorded for prosperity didn’t seem to bother him. Waller had a good attorney, the kind of attorney who knew the law better than most cops.

Maybe that’s why the judge was being so difficult. Lena had tried to get a warrant for the shooting gallery based on the suspicious traffic at all hours of the night. The judge had said no. Denise Branson presented evidence that Mr. Snitch, a confidential informant, had given up the location. The judge had said no. It was only through blind persistence that they had talked the man into letting them record today’s meeting. And even then, he’d only authorized audio.

This was their last chance. Lena knew there was no way the judge could say no if they got it on tape. All Mr. Snitch had to do was get Waller to talk about the house, to say something about the guns or the drugs or the money, then they could go in and bust some bad guys.

At least that’s what Lena was praying for. Sid Waller was the last big case she was going to work for a while. She was looking at months of her life being consumed by her pregnancy, then a couple of weeks, maybe another month, home with the baby before she returned to work.

Just the thought of being away from the job that long made her feel antsy. Lena had always been a cop. She couldn’t lose that part of her identity. Lately, it seemed like she wasn’t going to have a choice. She was too tired to sleep, too sleepy to concentrate. She had to pee all the time. She was cold. She was hot. She was cold again. If this was what pregnancy was like, Lena wasn’t sure she
could handle it. And the nausea was unrelenting. Why did they call it morning sickness when it was more like all-day sickness?

Lena sat on a bench in front of the Target. She had to unzip her jacket because she’d started sweating at some point during the easy walk across the parking lot. She found a tissue in the pocket and blew her nose. She wasn’t sure why her nose ran all the time now. Jared said she was making snot for two.

Lena checked the time on her phone. Sid Waller wasn’t due for another forty minutes. She’d rest for a little while, then go back to the van. That is, if she didn’t fall asleep first. Her eyelids felt heavy as she looked around the parking lot.

Lena found herself wondering if the world had always been filled with so many kids or if she was just seeing them now because she was pregnant. A toddler screamed as his mother pulled him toward the store. A child ran screeching around a minivan as his harried mom chased after him. Just outside the entrance to the store, another poor woman was bouncing a wailing baby on her hip.

Topping off this happy tableau was an extremely pregnant woman who was loading bags into the trunk of her car. Her belly was the size of a beachball. Sweat glued her hair to her head. She was parked in one of those expectant-mother parking spaces that Lena had always resented but now completely understood. The woman deserved to be closer to the door. She looked miserable. She dug her fist into her back as she unloaded the last bag from the cart. Her dress was way too tight. Even from a distance, Lena could see the thong sticking like dental floss between her ass cheeks.

“Jesus,” Lena whispered. She felt like a cow glimpsing behind the counter at the butcher’s shop.

Lena shivered. Her hands were cold. That’s how it usually started. The change in temperature worked its way from the edges. She stuck her hands into her jacket pockets. Her fingers curled around the photo. Lena guessed the ultrasound could be called a
photograph. At the very least, it was a snapshot of what was going on inside of her.

Over the years, Lena had looked at her share of X-rays and medical reports. She’d seen ultrasound pictures taped on refrigerators, shown on TV screens, and even presented as evidence in court cases where the mother had been murdered.

Lena had never been particularly moved by the images. To her, they were just black and white blobs. She assumed that the ability to ooh and ahh over the tiny splotches and weird folds was lost on her. Also, there was something disturbing about looking at a person’s interior workings. Maybe Lena was a prude, but she couldn’t be the only one thinking that showing an ultrasound was tantamount to showing the world irrefutable proof that you’d had sex.

But that was before Lena had seen an ultrasound of her own baby. Everything had changed two days ago. She couldn’t understand it. How had that tiny, pulsing little bean opened up such a large space in her heart?

And how had it made Lena love Jared so much? She couldn’t explain the shift. Loving Jared was nothing new, but the sudden depth of her feeling was terrifying. Lena had never felt this way about a man before. She was completely out of control, incapable of hiding her vulnerabilities. At night, she clung to him. During the day, she couldn’t stop touching him. At first, Jared had been mildly annoyed. He generally wasn’t up for touching unless it led to something, but he’d become more receptive over the last few weeks. There had to be some hormone Lena was giving off. Even the guys at work were looking at her differently.

Work.

Lena couldn’t think about what would happen when she started to show. Not that she wasn’t already. They probably just thought she was getting fat—which she was. Her pants cut into her waist. She spilled out of her bra. Jared was ecstatic about this particular development. All Lena could think was that there was no way she could chase after some thug with her breasts flopping
around. In a few months, she’d probably end up stuck behind a desk. She’d be doing paperwork and following up on witness statements while everyone else had all the fun. Was it worth it?

Lena looked down at the ultrasound. She touched the tiny little bean resting in white crescent arms. Of course it was worth it.

Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. Denise Branson. She was probably pacing the station house waiting for news.

Lena said, “What’s up, D?”

“Any news?”

Lena looked at the time. She should head back to the van. “He’s got another thirty minutes, but he’s always late.”

“I’m already pushing back a meeting,” Denise said. “You know it’s both our asses on the line now.”

“I know.” Lena reluctantly pushed herself up from the bench. “I appreciate it.”

“Listen.” Denise seemed eager to move on. “I got another piece of the Big Whitey puzzle.”

“Denise—”

“Just hear me out like I do with you, okay?” Lena owed her that much. “Okay.”

“I found an article in the
Savannah Tribune
. Eighteen months ago, two white girls showed up dead behind a church. Runaways from good homes. Heroin overdoses, both of them. From honor students to stone-cold junkies in less than a month. The needles were still in their arms. That sound familiar?”

“Honor students OD on heroin all the time,” Lena told her. “I could find a hundred other cases on the same day. Maybe thousands.”

“It’s just like what happened here.”

There was no use arguing. “Denise, I’m saying this as a friend. You’re obsessed with this. You’re too close.”

“So what if I am?”

Lena shook her head as she made her way back across the parking lot. Only in law enforcement was obsession considered an asset.

Denise said, “You’re obsessed with Sid Waller.”

“And I’m about to bust him,” Lena countered. “I’ve got a case. I’ve got a witness. I’ve got leads, photos, timelines. All you’ve got is a ghost.”

“You start out with all of that or did you put it together?”

Lena didn’t want to admit she had a point. Before Mr. Snitch magically appeared, Denise could’ve been asking Lena the same questions about Waller. But she hadn’t. She’d given Lena the support and time to do what she needed to do. “Did you track down that law firm?”

“I’m working on it. There’s some kind of connection there.”

“If you’re right, then maybe we can help each other out. Sid Waller’s the big man on campus. Once we take him down, he can give us Big Whitey.”

Denise huffed a laugh. “You think Sid Waller’s gonna turn? He’s got just as much juice inside the joint as he does out.”

She was right. The gangs ran the prisons and Waller would be a top dog. Still, she said, “It could happen.”

“I’m not giving Waller any deals. He can rot away his sick ass in jail. I can get Big Whitey on my own.”

Lena realized her fist was stuck in her back, just like the other pregnant woman. She dropped her hand. “All right. If you think you can put together a case, then you should get help. This is too big for one person. Two, if you count me, because you know I’m there for you.”

Denise snorted. “You know I’m off-book. How am I gonna go to Lonnie for help when he told me to shut this down months ago? He’s not gonna spend one dime of department money on Big Whitey. At least not until it’s too late.”

She was right again. By budgetary necessity, police forces were more reactive than preventative these days.

Lena had an idea. “I know somebody with the state who can give us a hand.”

“I can’t jump over Lonnie’s head.”

“I know that,” Lena said. Gray was relatively new to Macon, but he’d spent the past fifteen years heading up forces all around the state. They both respected him too much to stab him in the back. Not to mention that when push came to shove, Gray could twist that knife right back in theirs. “You could reach out informally. I know an agent who’s discreet.” She didn’t mention that the man had investigated her almost two years ago. “He’s a cop, but he doesn’t act like one. He’ll give you the support you need. At the very least, he can help you put together some of these pieces.”

“You think I’m gonna let the GBI come stomping onto my turf and taking credit?” She gave a harsh laugh. “You know how many hours I’ve put into this? How many miles on my car? How many sleepless nights? I’ve got blood in this fight, Lee. I’m not going to let go of it now.”

Lena recognized the righteous indignation in her tone. Five years ago, Lena would’ve been saying the same thing, sounding the same way. She’d been so sure of herself before Jeffrey died. She was the one who was always right. She didn’t need help. She didn’t need some asshole trying to grab credit. Lena had taken on the world single-handedly every day—right up until the world knocked her flat on her ass.

Denise said, “If you’d talked to that girl, listened to her mama, then you’d feel the same way as me.”

“I know,” Lena said. She was glad she hadn’t spoken with either of them, otherwise she probably would’ve been sucked in right along with Denise. “You work the case. You don’t let the case work you.”

“What does that mean?” Denise shot back.

“This ghost you’re chasing—it’s affecting your life.”

“In what way?”

Lena didn’t answer. Denise wanted some bowling pins she
could knock down. Lena knew from experience that the job wasn’t kind to lonely women. It could make you too driven. Too hard. It could scare people away from you.

Having Jared in her life had changed that for Lena. He’d shouldered some of the burden. He’d made her feel like it was okay to let go.

And then there was the baby. Lena put her hand to her stomach. Her face felt hot. An idiotic grin spread across her mouth. It was the hormones. She was glad she wasn’t in the van with Paul and DeShawn. She was probably fucking glowing.