Hold Back the Dark (16 page)

“Why don’t you ask Uncle Howie yourself? You work with him. You probably know him as Captain Howard Gibson.”

Elise and Josh had left Doreen Hughes and headed directly to headquarters and Ed’s office in the basement.

“Okay, Ed, give it to us with both barrels smoking.” Elise plopped herself down on the edge of Ed’s desk. Josh took up his usual post against the cubicle entrance.

“Those subcontractors you asked me to check into are front companies. They exist on paper only,” Ed said. “Dawkin set it up very cleverly; I don’t know how long it would have taken me to find them if you hadn’t pointed the way.”

“So what did they front for?” Josh asked.

“They were front companies for Orrin Dawkin. He was using them to embezzle money from Dawkin-Walter Consulting. He was siphoning off the company profits to cover his day trading debts.”

“
E
nough!” Simone panted. She bent over, hands pressed to her knees, and took in great gulps of air. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Aimee laughed and pushed up the sleeves of her shirt. It had been chilly when they started; now she was dripping with sweat. “Sorry. I was trying to run some of the cobwebs off my brain.” She crouched down and unlaced her shoe partway to release the apartment key she’d tucked into the laces.

Simone straightened up, her face serious now. “This case is really getting to you, isn’t it?”

“I wish it wasn’t.” Aimee unlocked the door. “You wanna come up for coffee?”

Simone glanced at her watch and shook her head. “If I go straight home, I’ll have time to shower before Connor’s soccer game. Whatcha doing tonight?”

“Not much. I thought I’d catch up on my billing.”

“Girlfriend! Say it ain’t so! It’s Saturday night—date night. How am I supposed to live vicariously through you if you’re going to live like a freaking nun?” Simone winced and rubbed at her side. “Come over tonight. Brian rented a movie and we’ll throw something on the grill. You can beat us all at Boggle.”

“Oooh,” Aimee cooed. “Sounds pretty wild.”

“Better than catching up on billing. See you around six? If we don’t feed the kids by seven all hell will break loose.”

“Sounds great. I’ll bring ice cream.”

Josh sprawled on the uncomfortable plastic bench two stores down and across the hallway from Hot Topic. He held a newspaper, but he wasn’t really reading it. Instead he scanned the throng of people walking by and inwardly cursed Brent Mullen’s mother. It would have been much easier to pick Brent up someplace less crowded. Someplace where no one would be likely to snap Josh’s picture with a cell phone camera during the takedown. He’d probably be on freaking YouTube before the day was out.

Elise sat next to him and filed her nails.

“Incoming,” she said. “Six o’clock.”

Josh glanced over the top of the paper. Brent Mullen was walking straight toward them, heading to Hot Topic as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Josh waited until Brent had walked past them and then he rose. Elise stood up, too, and they walked up behind Brent together.

“Brent Mullen,” Josh said.

Brent looked over his shoulder and without a second’s hesitation took off down the mall.

Josh smiled over at Elise. “I love it when they run.”

“Go get ’em, tiger,” she said, smiling back.

Josh took off at a run. It wasn’t hard to keep Brent in sight. The purple-tipped mohawk that stood up a good six inches from his head made him easy to spot, and there weren’t many places to go in the mall that weren’t dead ends. Josh dodged a young woman with a stroller and zigzagged around two white-haired ladies in Rock-ports. He closed the gap between Brent and himself to a matter of yards. He didn’t get up every morning at five-thirty to run six miles for nothing. Hearing Brent’s wheeze, Josh mentally patted himself on the back for never smoking.

In four large strides, he grabbed Brent by the collar of his leather jacket. He yanked backward and Brent’s feet went out from under him. Josh twisted to make sure Brent’s head didn’t bounce on the hard tile floor, deftly rolled the boy onto his stomach, and planted his knee in the boy’s back.

Elise caught up with them as Josh snapped the cuffs on Brent. He said, “Hi, Brent. My name is Detective Wolf. I’d like to talk to you.”

“I got nothing to say to you,” Brent said, his face pressed against the floor.

“Then you probably shouldn’t have run,” Elise said philosophically. “That makes us think that you’ve got lots to say to us.” They hoisted Brent to his feet.

“You’re making me late for work, man,” he grumbled.

As they marched him toward the exit to the mall with everyone staring, Elise said, “You should really reconsider the running thing. I hate it, but my partner here absolutely thrives on it. Hence his ability to knock you to the floor in about forty-five seconds. Plus, we’re going to have to call your mother to come get you from the station once we’re done chatting. We can’t wait for another opportunity to talk with her. She’s a charmer.”

Just seeing the door to the facility made Aimee feel uneasy. Was this how Danny had felt, coming to visit her in the hospital day after day after what had happened with Kyle? She’d been in for close to a week, and he’d been by her bedside every day. If this was how he’d felt, she wished she’d been a lot more sympathetic.

She got through the reception area without any hassle this time, but when she got to the locked ward, she wasn’t buzzed through. Instead, a nurse came out to talk to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “This isn’t a good time to visit Taylor.”

Aimee immediately went on alert. “What’s happened?”

“I’m sorry, but are you a family member?”

“No, I’m her therapist.”

The nurse’s brows drew down and she was clearly flustered. Still, she said, “You’ll need to talk to Dr. Brenner. I’m sorry. I simply can’t say any more without his permission. Do you need someone to show you to his office?”

“No. Thank you,” Aimee said. “I can find my way.”

Aimee hurried to Brenner’s office, worry quickening her footsteps. She knocked on the closed door and heard a muffled “enter” from inside.

“Dr. Gannon,” he said, rising from behind his desk and extending his hand.

She took his hand, but didn’t sit down. “The nurse wouldn’t let me in to see Taylor. What’s happened?”

“We had a situation with Taylor last night after her aunt left.” Brenner sat, eyeing her with caution.

“What kind of situation?” What had happened to the girl? And how?

“She, uh, managed to unscrew the screen around the lightbulb in her bathroom and used the broken bulb to cut herself pretty severely.” Brenner seemed unwilling to look Aimee in the eye and instead examined some of the folders on his desk while he spoke.

Aimee was astounded. She couldn’t believe that the girl who had done nothing but sit and rock and clutch a stuffed dog had managed to work up the energy and nerve to do something like that. She remembered the way Taylor had taken her hand, though, and drawn those symbols on endless pieces of paper. She had been starting to come out of her state. It was a precarious moment, poised between the pain of reentering the real world and the safety of her cocoon. “Stitches?”

He shook his head. “No, no. But there was a lot of blood and it was upsetting for everyone.”

Which everyone was that? The staff at these places seemed inured to things like blood and screaming. “What’s being done?”

“Well, we stepped up the Ativan for the time being.” Brenner still didn’t meet Aimee’s eyes.

She’d expected that, but it didn’t please her. “So you’re chemically restraining her.”

“I prefer to think that we’re calming her down so we can deal with the situation.” Dr. Brenner’s lips tightened.

Aimee needed to be careful how hard she pushed him. She could lose access completely if she didn’t step lightly. “Can I see her?” Aimee asked.

“I don’t think that’s wise right now. We need to get the situation back under control before she has more visitors. She’s had quite a parade through here the past few days. Perhaps that’s what’s upsetting her.” Brenner sat back down, a smug look on his face.

As much as she wanted to go over his desk and pop him, that wouldn’t get her what she wanted. She wished she’d brought Josh with her again.

“I understand,” she said. “Will you call when she can have visitors again?”

“Of course,” Brenner said.

Aimee got up and he rose as well. “I’ll see myself out,” she said.

What had upset Taylor so much? Aimee was so deep in thought that she nearly ran right into Sean Walter as she walked outside. “Excuse me,” she said, losing her balance for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

He caught her by the elbow to steady her. “That’s okay. Are you all right?”

“Fine.” She smiled up at him. “Just lost in thought. Are you here to see Taylor?”

“Yeah, I wanted to give her this.” He held out an Aerosmith CD. “I know it’s lame, but I used to listen to this a lot during a kind of dark time in my life. I thought maybe she’d want to listen to it. I want to do something to help, but I don’t know what kind of things would be of any use.”

Aimee looked at the CD. She recognized some of the songs: “Love in an Elevator,” “Janie’s Got a Gun,” “Monkey on My Back.” “I don’t think it’s lame, Sean. Unfortunately, Taylor can’t have visitors right now. She had a setback yesterday. They won’t even let me in to see her until they’re sure she’s calmed down. Even then, I’m not sure when they’re going to let her have things like CDs.”
Especially this dark and angry CD
. Aimee took a closer look at him. He seemed so blandly pleasant.

Sean looked crestfallen. “When do you think I could give it to her? Maybe next week?”

Aimee started toward her car. “It’s hard to say. It could be weeks before she feels safe enough to talk and interact, or it could be days. There’s no way to know for sure.”

Sean grimaced. “It’s hard to keep coming out, not knowing if I’ll be able to see her or not.”

“Would you like me to hold on to the CD and give it to her when she’s ready?” Aimee offered.

Sean smiled. “That would be fantastic. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Aimee slid the CD into her briefcase and opened her car door. “I’ll call and keep you posted on her progress, too, if you’d like.”

“That would be great. Thanks so much. I’d really like to keep close tabs on her progress. So would my dad. Taylor’s like family.”

Aimee looked into Sean’s handsome face. He was the person closest to Taylor’s age who had known her when she’d first moved to Sacramento. “Sean, do you remember anything significant happening the summer that Taylor and her family moved here? Something that might have upset her? Or even something weird happening that you didn’t quite understand?”

Sean took a step back. “Like what?”

Aimee sighed. “I don’t even know myself. I’m grasping at straws. I think something may have happened to Taylor that summer that’s somehow linked to what’s going on now.”

He shook his head. “Nothing comes to mind, and my mom and I moved soon after that. Taylor and I only overlapped here for a few months.”

Sean shut her car door and headed to his car.

There she was! God, he loved the way she walked, the way her hair lifted in the breeze and flew back behind her, the long strides of her legs. At night, he’d lie in his bed and dream about what she’d look like walking toward him. She’d have that half smile on her face, the one where the very outer parts of her lips turned down just the tiniest bit, like she was trying not to smile. Kyle’s mouth felt dry, and he was breathing fast. It happened almost every time he saw her. But why was she back outside already? She’d just gone in. He’d been hoping to have a chance to look in her car.

Kyle bit his knuckles in frustration underneath the bush. Why the hell did she drive all the way out here and then turn around and walk back out?

And the pretty boy was back. The stupid shit looked like a male model. Kyle hated him on sight. Some people got handed too much on their silver platters. He was too young to have earned that Saab. It wasn’t fair that Kyle had to drive a piece-of-shit old Ford. It wasn’t fair. If Kyle ever got him alone, he’d take that pretty boy down a peg or two. The thought of what he might do to the sissy boy made him pant a little more. He’d learned a lot in the state mental hospital, though not as much as his older stepbrothers had taught him about making someone suffer. Oh, he could have a lot of fun with Mr. Fancy Pants.

He was giving something to Aimee. Kyle peered down through his binoculars. A CD? How junior high. You didn’t give a woman like Aimee a CD. She was amazing. Unique. A gift to her would have to be as amazing and unique as she was. The only thing possibly more embarrassing would be a mix tape. Who did this asshole think he was?

Kyle dropped the binoculars and gnawed on the side of his thumb. He’d done it so much, the skin there was getting pulpy. It helped him think, though, so he gnawed it some more. He should try and figure out who this dillhole was. Then he could make sure Aimee knew this wasn’t a guy she should be around. He could make sure that Aimee saw through him. Kyle could use him to send Aimee a message.

Kyle wriggled out from under the bush and took off down the hill for his car. He’d follow the guy. He’d find out who he was, and then he’d make sure Aimee knew what a poser he was.

That would be Kyle’s gift to her. It would be special and unique. It might frighten her, but in the end, she would realize that he’d done it in her best interests.

“I didn’t have anything to do with Taylor’s parents getting whacked,” Brent insisted.

“So what exactly
did
you two kids get up to that night?” Josh asked, leaning his chair back on two legs.

“Nothing.” Brent kept his gaze down on his hands in front of him.

“Oh, come on, Brent. We know she crawled out of her friend’s window to see you that night. What exactly did you do?” Josh kept his tone light.

“I told you. We didn’t do anything.” Brent still did not look up.

“I find that hard to believe.” Elise leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers behind her head. “According to some of the e-mails we’ve read between you two, you’ve done plenty on other nights. Why would this night be any different? And, by the way, Brent, do you understand what statutory rape is?”

That question made Brent look up. “How the hell can it be rape if the chick practically tore my pants off?”

“Whether she said yes or not doesn’t matter, Brent. Taylor’s only seventeen; she’s a minor. According to your driver’s license, you turned twenty last month. According to state law, that three-year age gap makes it a crystal-clear case of statutory rape.” Elise gave Brent a big sweet smile.

“I didn’t do anything with her.” Brent looked back down.

Elise shrugged. “Maybe not that night, but I’m guessing by what we saw on her computer that you did sometime. I’m also guessing that with a little DNA cross-matching, we’ll be able to make something stick.”