Vicious Cycle (14 page)

Kent had hoped for cooperation, but he hadn’t expected this much. “I appreciate that, Chief. Do you happen to know about a drug dealer in this area who goes by the name of Belker?”

“Yes, we’ve locked him up before. But he hires expensive lawyers and gets out in no time. He’s constantly on the move, so we have trouble tracking him. You know how it is.”

He did know. To catch the guy near the top of the food chain, they needed a lot of hard evidence. The addicts always knew how to sniff him out, but a guy like that would be careful.

“Why do you ask?”

“We just heard that he’s Jordan Rhodes’s supplier.”

“Right. I was going to try to talk to her, get her side of the story. But her mother claims she’s not home. Kid just gave birth yesterday. I figure if she really went out, it was to get drugs. If I knew where this guy was headquartered, maybe I’d find her there.”

“I don’t know. Last I knew he was operating from a motel on the north side of town, but that place shut down. But feel free to talk to any of my detectives. One of them may have more updated data on him.”

“Okay, I will if you don’t mind.”

The chief leaned in, elbows on the table. “Listen, do you spend a lot of time in Jeff?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

Levin grinned. “So … Barbara Covington. Are you seeing her?”

There was no point in hiding it. “Trying to. But long distance things are difficult … and she has a lot going on.”

“I ask because …” He stroked his lip with a finger and seemed to consider what he wanted to say. “Because the city council has approved the budget for me to hire another detective. It’s a supervisor’s position, over the whole Criminal Investigation Section. Not homicide, like you’re used to, but you have more murders in Atlanta than we have here. You’d be over seven detectives and a civilian evidence technician. You’re a perfect candidate for the job.”

Kent blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve been looking for the right person, and I’m not impressed with any of the applicants so far. But if there’s any possibility you might be interested …”

He thought of saying yes, right here on the spot. But it was complicated. His relationship with Barbara was still young. Taking a job here might put too much pressure on her.

Besides, he liked working in homicide. Did he really want to start investigating burglaries and drug deals?

“Well, I appreciate that, Chief. I’ll think about it.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll have Detective Dathan give you a call, since he’s the one working this case. Make yourself at home,
Detective. Check us out thoroughly. Get to know the other guys. And if you want to talk seriously about the position, give me another call.”

As Kent was leaving Starbucks, Barbara called. “I may have found her,” she said. “I’m across the street from the Serene Motel, and I’ve been told she’s in one of the rooms.”

He got behind the wheel of Emily’s car. “You’ve been told? Who told you? Barbara, what have you been up to?”

She sighed. “I talked to the son of a friend of mine. He gave me the information. He’s not extremely reliable, but I think he’s telling the truth. He knew she’d had the baby, so he had to have seen her yesterday or last night. Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything until you get here. I’m keeping my promise.”

“All right,” he said. “Stay right there. I’ll be right over.”

She gave him directions. “Why is it that every addict in town knows that drugs are dealt from this motel, but the police don’t?”

“They move a lot, Barbara. When they find them, they have to catch them at it, and they need probable cause for search and arrest warrants. And as soon as they arrest one group, another one pops up in the same area. And when they do catch them, they want to make sure they have enough evidence to make a conviction stick.”

“But there are dealers all over Emerson Street. Just drive down there and you’ll see. Middle-school kids are finding these people, and the cops can’t? If the drugs weren’t so easy to get — ”

“Barbara, it’s the same everywhere. There are drugs in every town.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the police in general. That they would lock up my son, who’s done nothing, when there are drug dealers operating meth
labs and crack houses, and nobody cares. It’s a war. These things are taking our children out in horrifying numbers and nobody cares.”

“No, you’re wrong. There are people who care. And I just had a good talk with your police chief. He seems competent and sharp. He’s offered me access to his resources.”

“Good. Then can you get the police to come with us to find Jordan?”

“Not yet. Jordan hasn’t technically done anything wrong. If you’ve found her, hopefully we can get her to answer the door. Anything beyond that … well, we’ll cross that bridge then.”

Barbara was skeptical as she waited for Kent to get there. If Jordan looked out the window and saw them at her door, what incentive would she have for letting them in? She prayed that Jordan wouldn’t hide, that she’d let them in and be willing to talk.

Finally, Kent showed up and pulled in beside Barbara. He got into her car, and she pointed out the room J.B. had identified.

“All right, we’ll go over there and see if she’ll let us in. But if we run into anybody else, you let me do the talking, okay?”

“Fine with me. I don’t have any experience with meth users.”

“It’s a dirty drug. It does some serious damage to the brain, and sometimes it makes users hallucinate. They see things that aren’t there. Back home, I arrested a guy once who saw snakes slithering around his house. He got out a gun and shot at them. When he came to his senses, his children were dead.”

She caught her breath. “He thought they were snakes?”

“That’s right. It seems like something right out of Satan’s playbook. How else can you explain people ingesting something that has battery acid and rat poison as ingredients?”

Her face twisted. “That’s in crystal meth?”

“It’s deadly. They can get pretty violent when they’re on meth. When they’re high, they have the strength of four men. So what I’m telling you is that if anything starts to happen, you back off and do what I say. Got that?”

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

They crossed the street and went to the room at the back corner of the building. Barbara knocked softly.

There was no answer. The drapes were pulled closed, and there was no way to tell if anyone was even inside. What if J.B. had led her wrong? What if he’d simply been manipulating her?

Kent knocked harder, with more authority, but still no one answered.

Barbara wanted to cry. “What do we do now?” she asked him. “Can we go to the office and ask if she’s here?”

He shook his head. “She probably didn’t check in. We could knock on other doors, see if anybody will talk to us, but it’s doubtful they would.”

Barbara wasn’t about to give up now. As he spoke, she tried the knob. It was unlocked. “Kent …”

“Barbara, you can’t walk in without a warrant, even if it’s not locked.”

“I’m not a cop,” she said, and before he could stop her, she pushed the door open.

Light from the outside poured into the darkness, illuminating the girl on the bed. It was Jordan, lying there alone, and her bed was stained with blood. Barbara ran to her side and shook her. “Jordan! Wake up, Jordan!”

The girl was limp. Barbara turned her over. Her face was gray with purple bruises, and dark circles stained her swollen eyes. She looked dead.

“Call an ambulance,” she cried. “Kent, is she …?”

After he’d punched in 911, he touched Jordan’s neck. “She’s alive,” he said. “Pulse is weak, though.”

As Kent spoke to the dispatcher, Barbara lifted Jordan’s head and tried to wake her, but she didn’t stir. The girl had given birth to a baby at home, endured a beating by her mother, then run here where she was bleeding to death, probably from the aftereffects of childbirth. Or maybe she’d been beaten or abused again after she got here. She may have even overdosed.

Barbara kept trying to rouse Jordan as they waited for the ambulance. In moments, she heard sirens. Kent went out to wave them down. As the ambulance pulled in, glassy-eyed waifs stumbled out of their motel rooms to see the latest casualty.

The EMTs got Jordan on a drip, then loaded her into the vehicle. “I’ll ride with her to the hospital,” Barbara told them. “Kent, you follow and meet us there.”

Barbara got in and sat next to Jordan, holding her cold hand. As they flew to the hospital, she prayed that Jordan would come back around and take the second chance to start her life over. If this wasn’t hitting bottom, she didn’t know what was. The next level was certainly death.

T
he sound of voices penetrated Jordan’s consciousness, and she struggled to open her eyes. Bright light made her wince, and blurred faces moved in and out of her vision. Where was she? This wasn’t the motel room where she’d taken a handful of downers to end her pain. It was a hospital. She jerked as she realized an IV was dripping blood into her veins.

“Jordan, can you hear me?”

She tried to focus on the blonde woman who was way too close. She smelled of vanilla. Then, as Jordan’s vision gradually cleared, she recognized Barbara.

“Jordan, we found you at the motel. You’d lost a lot of blood, and you overdosed. We almost didn’t get you here on time.”

The woman waited, staring, as if she expected Jordan
to thank her. But Jordan felt no gratitude. Only the seeds of a fragile rage.

“Why?” Jordan whispered through dry, cracked lips.

“Why what?”

“Why’d you bring me here?”

“To save your life, honey. How do you feel?”

The question ramped her rage up a notch. How did she think she felt? She tried to sit up. “Who asked you to do that? It was none of your business.”

Barbara didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. “Jordan, I know you didn’t want to die.”

She couldn’t sit up. She was too weak. Instead, she turned on her side, away from Barbara. She felt her stomach, the loose, empty skin. It hadn’t been a bad dream. It was real. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know things are complicated. That you’re in pain. But death isn’t the answer, Jordan.”

Why was this lady interested in her? What did she want?

Then she remembered Lance. Of course. Barbara didn’t really care about her. She was here for her son.

Anger spread through her veins, making her want to rip the IV out. But there was also guilt. Jordan had lied about him and gotten him into trouble. He didn’t deserve that.

“Jordan, you have a baby to think of now. You can’t clock out and leave things unsettled, or the wrong people will adopt her.”

Jordan squeezed her eyes shut. “Where is my baby?”

“Here, in the neonatal unit. She’s getting better.”

Good. Those people hadn’t taken her yet. “What about Lance? Where is he?”

“He’s in jail.”

Jordan rolled to her back, her wrist over her eyes. This was all wrong. “I didn’t want him to go to jail.”

“Then why did you tell the police he kidnapped your baby?” Her voice was gentle, not harsh like Jordan would have expected. “Do you know how many years he could get for a crime like that? All he was doing was trying to help you.”

“He shouldn’t have come to my house. I don’t know why he has to stick his nose in everything.”

“Jordan, he didn’t take your baby. I want you to talk to the police. I want you to tell them the truth.”

“Then I’ll get in trouble for lying.”

“You can explain the pressure you were under with your mother. ”

“Then my mom will go to jail. Then what will I do? They’ll throw me in some foster home.”

“Jordan, is she the one who beat you?”

Jordan wouldn’t answer.

“If she is, then you need to tell the police. You could go back to New Day.”

“But then I have to follow all those rules and give up everything that makes me feel better.”

“Drugs don’t make you feel better, Jordan. Look at you!”

The door swung open. “What are you doing here?” Her mother stood in the doorway, looking like she hadn’t bathed in days. The smell of her friends’ meth lab floated around her, infecting everything in the room. Jordan wanted to scream.

Who called her? Why couldn’t her mother just go back to not caring?

Barbara stood up and faced her. “Maureen, I found your daughter half dead. I called an ambulance.”

“Get outa my way.” Maureen pushed Barbara aside, then bent down and bobbed her head over Jordan. “How you feelin’, baby?”

Jordan wanted to spit in her face, but her mother would hit her again, and her bruises were still tender. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Her mother shot Barbara an accusing look. “See what he did to her?”

“Mom, don’t. Lance didn’t do this to me.”

She felt her mother’s anger rippling like a current on the air. Her sharp eyes cut through her, warning her to shut up.

“I was just talking to Jordan,” Barbara said, “about the lie she told the police about my son.”

“She didn’t lie,” Maureen insisted. “And if you don’t leave this room right now, I’ll file charges against you too. We’ll get the whole family locked up.”

“For what? For saving her life?”

“For harassment. I’ll get a restraining order so you can’t come within fifty feet of her.”

“Come on, Maureen.” Barbara’s voice was getting loud. “You don’t think that’s going to stop me.”

“Is that a threat?”

Barbara bent over Jordan. “Jordan, it’s not too late to change your story. Please set the record straight so I can get Lance out. Don’t punish the people who try to help you.”

Jordan lay frozen, staring at the track marks on her arm and the needle dripping fluids into her.

Maureen grabbed Barbara’s arm and jerked her to the door, yelling at the top of her lungs for a nurse. Jordan wanted to spare Barbara this, but bucking her mother’s authority would only result in broken bones and more blood. It wasn’t worth it. As Barbara left the room, Jordan lay there in the mess she’d created and knew she couldn’t clean it up now.