A Necessary Evil Page 4

  Kurt didn’t take the bait. There was no point. It was true, though. He had told Lonnie on numerous occasions of his intention to stop smoking once and for all. And he had done well, until now. The stress of the missing girls, combined with the reappearance of Frankie Cartwright in his life after thirty years of radio silence, was taking its toll. And Kurt had learned years ago the worst possible time to try to quit smoking was when he was under enormous stress. He needed the occasional cigarette to calm his nerves and give him five minutes to think.

  “Whatever. Your funeral.” Lonnie shifted the cruiser into gear and pulled away from the curb in front of Macy’s.

  “That was a complete waste of time,” Kurt said, thinking back on his conversation with the entertaining young man named Fabulous Greg at the Urban Decay counter. “We didn’t learn anything we hadn’t already learned from Frankie. Fabulous Greg didn’t even know about the kid who’s been bothering Mollie.”

  “We need to call her best friend. What was her name? Lauren?”

  “Laurel Bridges,” Kurt responded, taking in another deep breath of blessed nicotine and blowing it out the cracked window. “I left her a voicemail earlier, but I haven’t heard back from her yet.”

  “Well, then,” Lonnie picked up the radio from its holder on the dashboard, “let’s just go right to the source.” He pushed the button on the side and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Dispatch, this is Bravo Five Three. I need a twenty for a Laurel Bridges. Female, not sure on the DOB, but probably around twenty years old. Lives in Lexington.”

  “Copy, Detective,” the dispatcher responded. There were a few seconds of static feedback until the radio crackled with her reply. “Okay, Detective. I have a twenty on a Laurel Marie Bridges, date of birth 31 January of 96. Last known address is 3193 Raintree Drive, Apartment B34.”

  “Copy that.” Lonnie placed the mic back in its holder. “See?” Lonnie grinned widely at Kurt. “Easy as pie. Now we have her address. What do you say we go see what young Laurel knows about this misguided Romeo?”

  Kurt nodded, took one final draw from his Winston, and tossed it out the window. “Let’s do this.”

  Lonnie made a U-turn at the intersection. The Raintree Apartments were only about fifteen minutes away, but on the northeast side of town. Lonnie flipped on the flashing lights each time he encountered a stoplight, so they didn’t have to wait like all the civilians. Kurt never did this himself, but Lonnie thought it was hilarious to see the miffed expressions on the other drivers’ faces when they were able to speed on through the red lights. He’d told Kurt before that it was one of the many perks of wearing a badge, so why not take full advantage whenever possible?

  The complex consisted of six tall, orange-ish brick buildings with beige vinyl siding that encircled a smaller structure which served as the business office and clubhouse. While it wasn’t quite in the ghetto, it sat just on the outskirts of the nicer part of town, and Kurt had been called out to the apartments on more than one occasion. In fact, when his oldest nephew had been looking for his first apartment after graduating from college, Kurt had suggested he look elsewhere.

  Lonnie parked the cruiser in front of Building B, and the duo climbed out, wrapped their coats tighter around themselves, and started for the entrance. Of course, Lonnie bounded up the steps like a gazelle hopping across the wild plains of Africa, while Kurt had to take them slowly, gripping the railing as he ascended the concrete steps one at a time. Lonnie waited for Kurt on the third-floor landing, which only served to embarrass Kurt further as he sluggishly climbed toward his partner.

  When he reached the top, he bent forward with his hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing. But the cold November air bit into his lungs, and he cursed himself for smoking that stupid cigarette on the ride over. He looked up at Lonnie, who had an I-told-you-so expression on his face.

  “Don’t say it,” Kurt wheezed. He shot Lonnie a deadly glance, warning him to keep his mouth shut.

  Lonnie raised his hands defensively. “All right. I won’t say it. Can I knock now?”

  Kurt stood straight, drew in one more deep breath just for good measure, and let it out. White vapor floated from his mouth and danced around in front of his face, serving as yet another reminder that he needed to quit. “Go ahead. I’m fine.”

  A smiling Lonnie turned and knocked forcefully on the door. “Police. Open up.”

  Kurt heard the lock rattled from the inside. The door opened about two inches, and the partial profile of a young female appeared in the crack between the door and the jamb. “Show me your badge,” said an unsure feminine voice.

  Lonnie rolled his eyes, but produced his badge anyway and held it up for the girl to see. The door shut abruptly, and just when Kurt thought she was going to ignore them, he heard the mechanisms of the lock disengage and, seconds later, the door opened all the way. Standing there with one arm holding the door open was a beautiful young lady of about twenty-one, Kurt guessed. Her dark hair was piled into a messy bun high on top of her head, and she was clearly not wearing any makeup. But it didn’t matter. Even in sweats, the girl was strikingly beautiful. Her light brown eyes were wide with wonder as she stared at Lonnie and Kurt before dropping her hand to her hip and motioning silently for them to step inside.

  “You’re here about Mollie.” It was a statement, not a question. She gestured toward the beige couch in the living room. “Please, have a seat. Sorry for the mess.”

  There were clothes strewn about the couch and matching loveseat, and some leftovers sat on the coffee table, but Kurt didn’t think the apartment was dirty. In fact, it looked like Laurel had gone to great lengths to decorate her little home away from home. The apartment even smelled like a pina colada. Kurt’s detective eyes scanned the apartment but saw nothing to raise any alarms, not that he’d expected to find anything helpful. This meeting with the victim’s best friend was a formality, someone to cross off of the “must be interviewed” list.

  Kurt turned his attention back to the pretty young girl.

  “Yes,” he said. “We’re here to talk about Mollie. Is there anything you could tell us that might help us find her?”

  Laurel shook her head, and her hair bun flopped from side to side. She reached up and tightened it with a quick tug then let her hands fall to her lap. “No. I have no idea. I wish I could help, but all I know is Kitty called me in a panic saying Mollie never came home after work last night. After that, I called her, like, a million times, but my calls all went straight to voicemail, which totally freaked me out because, like, doesn’t that mean her phone’s dead or something?”

  Kurt pulled out his little notebook and jotted this bit of information down. It might not mean anything, but he wasn’t about to discount any clues which might lead them to Mollie.

  “That’s very helpful,” Lonnie said. “In fact, they’re working on pinpointing her cell location back at the station as we speak.”

  It was true. Kurt had personally put in the call to the forensics techs before they left the precinct earlier that evening. Frankie had provided Mollie’s cell phone number in hopes that Kurt could instantly ping her location. But Kurt had explained that though they no longer needed a warrant to triangulate the cell phone’s location, their new tracking software, aptly named Wolfhound, took a couple of hours to work its magic. Kurt expected to hear from the techs any minute now.

  “Her grandfather mentioned a young boy who might have been bothering her at work,” Kurt offered.

  “Oh, that,” Laurel said with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, she mentioned something about some pathetic dork leaving her notes in her locker. What a loser.”

  “Did she happen to mention his name?” Lonnie leaned forward with his forearms on his knees.

  “No,” Laurel said after giving it a moment’s thought. “She never said. Sorry.”

  “You’re doing fine, Laurel,” Kurt said when he saw tears forming in the young girl’s eyes.

  Her hands flew to her face, and she sobbed in
to them, her shoulders heaving. “I’m just so worried about her.”

  “Is there any chance Mollie could have run away? Any troubles at home?” Kurt was grasping at straws, but he needed to rule out the possibility.

  “No freaking way.” Laurel dropped her hands to the arms of the chair. “You don’t know Mollie, but I do, and I can tell you there’s no way she would leave her mother all alone like this. Mollie is, like, my best friend, and I know she loves me too. But she and Kitty are closer than any other mother and daughter I know. God knows I’ve been jealous of their relationship a few times. So, no. She definitely didn’t run away. Besides…Mollie’s a very happy girl. I mean, yeah, she’s had some shitty things happen to her over the years. But now she has her mother, her job, her new car…she has absolutely no reason to drop everything and take off like that.”

  “Speaking of her family,” Lonnie said as he leaned back into the couch cushion. He shot a cursory glance at Kurt before finishing his thought. Kurt knew exactly where Lonnie was going with this line of thinking. Lonnie looked back at Laurel. “What about her grandfather?”

  “Who? You mean her pops? What about him?” Laurel asked.

  “Well, it’s just…surely you know who her grandfather is. Franklin Cartwright?”

  “Yeah, I know who he is,” Laurel said tersely. “And I know what he does for a living. I’m not stupid. Neither is Mollie. She’s known for years.”

  “Thank you, Laurel.” Kurt stood from his spot on the couch and reached for his coat. “You’ve been a big help. Sorry to have taken up—”

  “Wait.” She stood and held her hands out between them. “You don’t think…why are you asking about her pops? Do you think he—”

  “Well…” Lonnie began.

  “Absolutely not,” Kurt said at the same time.

  Kurt shot Lonnie a warning glance. There was no reason whatsoever to think Mollie’s disappearance had anything to do with Frankie or his less-than-legal lifestyle. Lonnie was going off script, and the last thing they needed was to have Laurel telling Frankie—or anyone, for that matter—that Kurt was insinuating Frankie had anything to do with Mollie’s disappearance. Lonnie must have taken the hint, because he simply nodded, thanked Laurel for her time, and reached for the front door.

  Kurt stepped to the side and was about to follow Lonnie over the threshold when Laurel walked rapidly over to them and grabbed the doorknob. “You should know that Mr. Cartwright loves Mollie very much. And Mollie loves her pops, no matter what he’s done.”

  “Yes,” Kurt said with a nod, “I know. Sorry again for the intrusion.”

  “You know there’s no way Mr. Cartwright did anything bad to Mollie. In fact…”

  Kurt turned to face Laurel, who was biting her lower lip and staring down at the ground. “What is it, Laurel? Do you know something we don’t?”

  “No,” she responded quickly, looking up to meet Kurt’s gaze. “It’s just…”

  “Go on,” Lonnie said, growing impatient with the young girl. “What is it?”

  “I know Mr. Cartwright is looking for Mollie too. He called me just before you showed up.”

  “He called you?” There was accusation in Lonnie’s tone, and Kurt didn’t appreciate it. He held his hand up to prevent his partner from saying anything further. Lonnie shook his head in disapproval.

  “What did he say?” Kurt inquired.

  “He said…he said he’s looking for Mollie, and he can find her faster than you guys can.”

  “He said that, did he?” The look on Lonnie’s face was a combination of disbelief and frustration.

  “He did,” Laurel said with one nod. “And he also said when he finds her, he’s going to make whoever took her pay…like, big time.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lonnie asked before Kurt could stop him.

  Laurel clearly didn’t appreciate Lonnie’s tone any more than Kurt did. “It means, Detective, if Mr. Cartwright finds Mollie’s kidnapper before you do, he’s going to, like, kill him. And honestly, I think it’s pretty brave of him.”

  “Laurel,” Kurt said in a cautionary tone.

  “No, I’m totally serious.” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip to the side. “If you guys catch him, and that’s a big if, he’ll go to jail for, what? Maybe a few years? If that. He’ll get to eat three hot meals a day, watch cable TV, and get a college degree in prison. Then he’ll be smarter and back on the streets to take more innocent girls.”

  “Laurel,” Kurt repeated.

  “At least if Mr. Cartwright catches him, well, let’s just say he will never hurt anyone else again. So, I’m rooting for Mollie’s pops. I hope he brings Mollie home and makes that asshole pay.”

  Lonnie opened his mouth to respond, but seeing the anger flaring on his face, Kurt grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out onto the landing.

  “Let’s go, Lonnie.”

  “Did you hear what she said?”

  “I did. She’s just a young girl. Don’t let it get to you. We’ll find Mollie first.”

  Lonnie spun around and looked down at Kurt as if hot lava was burning behind his eyes. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  Kurt took a step backward. “Lonnie, what the hell are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying I think you secretly agree with her. I think you would rather Frankie find her and her kidnapper first. You’ve always talked about how the system fails victims all the time. Maybe when you and Frankie were in the room together earlier, you shook hands and agreed to let him run roughshod over our investigation. You’re hoping he finds him first so he—”

  “Watch it, Lonnie.” Kurt stepped closer to his partner and poked a finger into his chest. “Watch your mouth before you say something you can’t take back. I know you’re frustrated. So am I. We’ve been searching for this sonofabitch for two years, so I get it. But don’t you ever accuse me of giving up. Do I need to pull rank, here? Do I need to remind you that I’m your superior?”

  “Nah,” Lonnie said, clearly trying to rein in his temper. “Nah, you’re right. Sorry I said anything. Let’s get to the cruiser. It’s freezing balls out here.”

  Kurt studied Lonnie for a few more seconds before nodding and slapping him on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Lonnie. I know it’s frustrating. I’ll give you a pass this time. Now, run ahead and warm up the cruiser. You know it’ll take me longer to get down these damn stairs than you. No hard feelings.”

  “Ten-four, Sarge.” Lonnie turned and started for the steps.

  Kurt knew Lonnie had only backed down out of respect for Kurt’s seniority and for fear of being busted down for insubordination. He also knew Lonnie had meant every word he’d said. But what stuck in his craw more was the troubling knowledge that Lonnie was not totally wrong. Kurt couldn’t deny, at least to himself, that there was a small part of him that agreed with Laurel. A small part that had no choice but to acknowledge the fact that maybe Frankie was smarter, more decisive, and, frankly, better at doling out justice, just as he had been thirty years ago.

  It was Addie all over again.

  Chapter 7

  Mollie

  The man pulled a shiny silver pocket watch from his trousers and consulted it. “It’s been over twelve hours,” he said with a look that Mollie could only interpret as amusement. “I’d say your grandfather is moving heaven and earth to find you by now. Too bad he never will. At least, not until I’m ready.”

  “What does that m-mean?” Mollie asked from the corner of the room. She was shivering from head to toe and wishing she’d worn a sweater instead of the thin blouse she’d picked out the day before.

  “It means, my dear Mollie, I have great plans for the two of us.” He shoved the watch back into his pocket, casually walked over to Mollie, squatted before her, and lifted her chin with his finger. Mollie jerked away from his touch. The feel of his skin on hers made bile rise in the back of her throat. The man scoffed. “That’s fine. You don’t
have to enjoy our time together. You just have to obey.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” she asked, scooting further into the corner in a vain attempt to get away from her abductor.

  The man smiled, and Mollie was instantly reminded of Heath Ledger’s character, the Joker, in The Dark Knight. “Why…telling you would ruin the surprise. And where’s the fun in that? Huh?” He stood, walked over to the bed, kicked off his boots, and sat on the edge. “Now, it’s late. I’m going to get some beauty sleep for a couple hours, and then, my dear Mollie, the fun will begin.”

  His voice sent an icy shiver up her spine, and Mollie blinked hard to keep tears from streaming down her face. She’d given up all hope of convincing the man to let her go as soon as he’d told her this all centered around revenge against her pops. Whatever her grandfather had done to this man in the past was big enough and bad enough that he was willing to kidnap Mollie in order to send him a message. Someone that desperate, that driven, could not be persuaded to change their plans. There was no way she’d ever get him to see her as anything other than an implement of revenge against Pops. The only hope she clung to now was that someone would find her before the man carried out his plan, whatever it was. Mollie wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “I suggest you get some sleep too.” He lay back on the bed and tucked the pillow beneath his head. “Long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Mollie gathered what little bit of courage she had left, shifted to her knees, and looked right at the man. “Why haven’t you done whatever it is you’re going to do already? You just said you’ve had me here for twenty-four hours. All you’ve done is sleep, read, and ask me questions about my pops. Why don’t you get it over with?”

  He shot up from the bed and was in her face in a fraction of a second, so close she could smell the sweat mingling with his fading cologne. “Watch yourself, little girl. I’m in charge here, not you. Do you understand?”

  Mollie whimpered as she nodded vehemently. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”