Page 25 of Dark Angel
So many times, Beth had seen that pathetic drug-induced state. It wouldn’t be long before the girl would need medication. “You hide in the shadows by the dumpsters. You must get to the van, so don’t stop for anything. Just get the heck out of here.”
A wave of panic gripped her when she heard a voice coming from one of the rooms. Beth lowered her voice to a whisper. “I hear someone.”
“It’s the parrot.” The girl with the dead eyes blinked at her. “He’s a pet. Spike walks around with him on his shoulder.”
Beth shook one girl to get her attention. “When you’re all safe. Tell the man in the van to wait at least one hour before he comes looking for me, okay?” She glared at the girl. “One hour, got it. No earlier or we won’t catch Spike. Tell him that, okay?”
“Sure, one hour.” The girl pulled a blanket around her and joined the others.
Taking a deep breath and hoping Styles was still waiting inside the van, Beth waved them up the steps one at a time, paused at the door, and then sent them running outside and along the alleyway. The clock inside her head was telling her time was running out fast before Spike returned, and the girls were moving slower than she anticipated. Her heart missed a beat each time a set of headlights flashed past the entrance to the alleyway. She had no idea which way he would be coming and if he caught sight of the girls running across the road and gave chase, Styles would arrest him. She figured, by using Spike’s estimation of the time it would take him to bring the car around, she had about seven minutes remaining. Dashing back along the passageway, she checked each room. Out the back of one was a kitchen and this led to a bedroom obviously used by Spike. His cheap cologne still polluted the air. She grabbed a towel and used it to prevent leaving prints. Flinging open doors and searching drawers until she found a box of latex gloves. She pulled them on and ran through the house using the cloth to remove her fingerprints from anything she’d touched. Bolting back down the stairs, she reached the door to her room just when the metal outside door clanged shut.
Stepping inside, she avoided the body on the floor, peeled off the gloves, and tossed them into the garbage and then pushed the towel under her mattress. Nervous anticipation shivered through her as footsteps sounded on the steps. The next moment the door opened, and Spike filled the space. He swore and then covered his face with one hand. She looked up at him. “I hope you have gloves. I’m not getting his stink all over my hands.”
“There’s a ton of gloves in the top drawer of the dresser.” He gave her a knowing smile. “I’m sure you’ll find other uses for them.” He pushed the door wide open and attached a clip to hold it.
Keeping a wary eye on him, Beth turned away and using her shirt opened the drawer. She gloved up and spun back, using one hip to close the drawer, and then looked at him. “Okay, I’m ready. What do you want me to do?”
“Go ahead of me and open the doors. Leave the front door open. I’ll need to go back inside before we leave.” He tossed her his car keys. “Use the fob to open the trunk.”
As he hoisted the man easily over one shoulder and indicated for her to walk in front of him, it was obvious he didn’t need her help. She caught something in his eyes that sent up a red flag. It was a flash of an expression, a decision made, but it hadn’t slipped past her. She might be useful in helping him remove the body, but she’d seen that look before. The calculated sidelong look meant he’d already made plans for her. He considered her to be a witness he couldn’t risk leaving behind and she’d be going into the bay alongside the judge.
TWENTY-SIX
Moving up the stairs, Beth pulled open the door and stood to one side. She needed information and she needed it fast. The girls should be with Styles now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be keeping a close eye on the alleyway waiting for her to return. Having him so close was cramping her style. He was unpredictable and could come to the rescue at any minute—but would he risk leaving the girls alone in the van unprotected? He did have a duty of care to them and what if he called in backup? Mind reeling with different possible outcomes of her current situation, she had no choice but to play the cards as they fell.
Beth attempted to act jittery to give Spike the impression of being a drug addict close to needing a fix. “There will be people all over the streets. How do you intend to drop him into the bay without anyone seeing?” She moved ahead of him along the passageway. “I’m in enough trouble with the cops as it is. I can’t be seen helping you do this.”
“You won’t be seen. I’m not using the bridge. I’ll head alongside the bay to a boat ramp not far from here and at this time of year the mist is heavy coming from the water. I’ll back down the ramp, pop the trunk, and we’ll haul him into the water. He’ll float away on the tide. It will look like he fell from the shore.” He grunted and hoisted the guy more firmly over his shoulder. “If the cops do a drive-by, we’ll just act like a couple making out. Worst-case scenario, they’ll tell us to move on.” His mouth turned down in disgust. “Can’t you go any faster? He’s dripping stink all over the carpet.”
The heavy metal door loomed up in front of Beth and she heaved it open, hoping not to find San Francisco’s finest waiting outside in the alleyway. She poked her head around the door and looked both ways. Her heart missed a beat seeing the direction Spike had pointed his Lincoln. He must have driven right past the girls. How he’d missed seeing them escape was close to a miracle. She fumbled with the car keys, but eventually the trunk popped open. The inside was spacious, more than big enough for two bodies. A mingled rush of fear and thrill surged through her as she allowed her dark side to rise. She took a step toward Spike as he dropped the man inside the trunk and bent low at the waist to roll him toward the back. As if between heartbeats, Beth pulled one of the hatpins from her hair, lunged forward, and drove it deep into Spike’s ear.
He gasped in pain but didn’t go down and lurched forward deeper into the trunk. Why wasn’t he dead? She glanced both ways along the alleyway as he thrashed about like a zombie half in and half out of the trunk. Without a second thought, Beth detached the Japanese throwing star. In one swift movement, she grabbed his hair, sliced his carotid artery, and pressed his head hard against the other man’s body to prevent splash back. She ripped out the hatpin and waited precious seconds for Spike’s body to stop fighting the inevitable, and then using adrenalin-fed strength, lifted his legs into the trunk and, grabbing up the throwing star, slammed the lid.
Time was moving so fast she could hear it counting down in her head. It wouldn’t be long before time ran out and Styles called in the troops. Breathing heavily, she turned and ran back inside, heading straight for the kitchen and to the bottle of bleach she recalled sitting under the counter. She tossed the hat pin and star into the sink, poured bleach all over them and then hightailed it back to her room. She collected her purse, dragged the towel from under the mattress, and escaped back upstairs. After frantically rinsing the bleach from her weapons, she put them back in place and then dashed into Spike’s bedroom and grabbed his laptop. Running, she headed back to the vehicle, closing the door behind her.
Ticktock,ticktock, the clock inside her head was counting down the minutes. She laid the laptop on the seat and slid behind the wheel. Moments later, she was driving alongside the bay searching for the boat ramp in the heavy mist. The sign loomed up and she turned onto the top of the boat ramp, keeping the Lincoln facing the water. She climbed out and wiped down the seat, glad she was still wearing the latex gloves. Panic gripped her as the muffled sound of a ringtone cut through the silence of the night. In that second, the horrible realization hit her that her burner phone was still inside Spike’s pocket with Styles’ phone number in the contacts. Time was counting down so fast, and she had to get back to Styles. She couldn’t be found with two dead bodies, especially as Spike had her tarot card in his pocket.
Wrenching the car keys from the ignition, she ran back to open the trunk. The smell of congealing blood and pee hit her in a wave of stench. Frantic, she fumbled through Spike’s pockets and dragged out her phone. She slammed shut the trunk and answered the call. “I’m safe. I ran away and hid. Right now, I’m between blocks and I can’t see any street signs. I’ll need to keep moving. I’ll call you as soon as I discover where I am and you can come get me.”
“Okay. We need to get these girls somewhere safe. They’re freaking out.”Styles sounded agitated.“Have you worked out a plan to explain them? We could both lose our jobs over this.”
Beth ran back to the driver’s open door. “Yeah, don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I’ll speak to them. Gotta go.” She disconnected.
She’d worry about explanations later. Leaning into the Lincoln, she started the engine, put the vehicle into drive, gabbed the laptop and her purse, and then stood back as the vehicle crawled slowly down the ramp increasing speed until it plopped into the bay. It rode the current before tipping to one side. The water flowed through the open windows and claimed its prize. Beth sighed with relief as the Lincoln sank slowly, vanishing in the mist.
She ripped off her gloves, pushed her phone inside her purse, and tucked the laptop under one arm. She took off at a run, sprinting to the entrance of the first alleyway, and tossed the gloves into a dumpster. Rounding the corner, she encountered a group of men leaving a club and smelling strongly of alcohol. All thought she was available to party and grabbed at her. To avoid them, she dashed across the road, ignoring the blasts of car horns as vehicles barely missed her. Ahead, she made out the fast-food restaurant and the gray van parked outside. Picking up her pace she ran toward it.
Breathless, she heaved open the door and fell inside. She grinned at Styles, who glared back at her. “What’s up? I made it with five minutes to spare.” She waved the laptop at him. “This could hold a goldmine of information.”
“Dammit, Beth. You nearly got killed dodging the traffic.” Styles shook his head. “I’m responsible for you.”
Beth barked a laugh. “No, you’re not. I’m responsible for me. Let’s make that clear from the get-go. I don’t need a nursemaid and I can take care of myself.” She took the burner phone from her purse, removed the SIM, and tossed the phone out of the window. “We don’t need to involve the office in this case. None of these girls are from our Pied Piper missing persons files. Pull over in that parking lot so I can talk to them. I suggest you contact the local PD and speak to one of the detectives. Tell him by accident we stumbled onto a pedophile prostitution ring and they can take the credit because we’re on another case. One we can’t discuss with them at this time.”
“You’re joking, right?” Styles gave her an incredulous book. “They’re never gonna buy that story and that darn laptop won’t be admissible in court. You didn’t have a search warrant.”
Beth smiled at him. “The laptop isn’t for them, it’s for me. No one in the local PD will be able to trace the players involved. It might be one part of a jigsaw puzzle I need to solve a case in the future. These rings go deep and I’ll be aiming for the kingpin, but right now we need to catch the Pied Piper.”
“I’m sitting in a van with five kidnapped underage girls.” Styles gave her a glare to strip paint. “I fed them but they’re all strung out on heroin and will need a fix soon. The idea the local PD will just take them no questions asked is ludicrous.”
