James Conway - In Cold Blonde

The tub had a little more time to fill up so she pulled out her cell phone and checked her messages. She had one from Travis Taylor. His message asked her to call him. She did. He answered on the first ring. “Travis Taylor.”

“It’s Anne Rogers, Travis, I hope it’s not too late.”

“Sleep is for sissies.”

Anne laughed. “You’ve got some news on Syd Curtis?”

“I do. Syd Curtis is quite a remarkable young woman. She’s from Kansas City, not Riverside. She ran away from home when she was seventeen, came straight to Hollywood. She’s been connected to a pimp named Ernesto Sian so I suspect she was a hooker at one time. But here’s where it gets interesting, I tracked down Syd’s mother and spoke to her. I pretended to be one of Syd’s classmates and wondered whatever happened it her. Get this, her mother hasn’t heard from Syd since the day she left almost ten years ago.”

“She doesn’t know she’s a cop?”

“She doesn’t even know if Syd’s alive or dead.”

The more Anne heard, the happier she got. Anne wondered if Ryan knew all this? Somehow she doubted it. “Did you tell the mother Syd was alive?”

“No. Not sure there’s an angle in it yet. I’ve got some more work to do, but here’s the bottom line. We can prove she lied on her LAPD application so we’ve already got enough evidence to get her fired. And I’ve got a feeling I’m going to find another surprise or two. I’ll call you tomorrow with another update.”

“Great work, Travis, thank you.” Anne hung up. She was hoping Travis would get enough dirt to drive a wedge between Ryan and Syd. Well, he’d found a whole lot more. She was a teenage runaway and a hooker? Fabulous. And lying on her LAPD application was the icing on the cake. All Anne would have to do is leak Travis’ report to the press and Syd would be kicked off the force and out of their lives forever.

But then another thought struck Anne. A much better one. She’d confront Syd with Travis’s report and make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Ask for a transfer out of Homicide and out of the Hollywood division. Something in the Valley maybe, or South Central. Something far away from Ryan. Ask for a transfer or Anne would leak the report to the press. And if Syd told Ryan about Anne’s blackmail, Anne would leak it to the press. Syd would have no choice.

Now the only question became when to spring the surprise on Syd.

Anne stepped into the tub and settled beneath the churning water. She sighed happily as the hot water swallowed her. And then the answer came — she’d talk to Syd tomorrow, at the lottery presentation. Syd was sure to be there, and what better way was there for Anne to cap off what was certain to be one of the best days of her life than by checkmating that perky redhead.

It was only forty degrees outside but Ryan had the top down. The heater was on and kept his feet warm, but the crisp air whisked the heat away from Ryan’s upper body and face, so he was cold. Freezing actually, but that was fine. He wanted to be uncomfortable. He wanted to suffer.

A familiar ache filled his heart. The perfect world Anne had helped construct in Ryan’s imagination — living happily ever after with the girl of his dreams, millions of dollars in the bank and running a foundation for the needy — was suddenly gone. What was he supposed to do now about the lottery money, about the foundation, about Syd?

Syd.

Jesus, before Ryan was waylaid by Rick Rogers he was checking his Voicemail. Ryan took out his cell phone, brought up Syd’s message.

“Hey Ryan, it’s me,” Syd’s recorded voice said. “Three boys raped Alice that night: Colin, Adam and a guy named Blake Hunter. He lives in Malibu, 22756 Pacific Coast Highway. It’s nine forty-five now, I should be there in less than an hour. Call me.”

Nine forty-five, Ryan thought. Ryan remembered glancing at the clock as he was going to the bathroom. It read nine forty-five. So when his cell phone rang, Anne must have heard it; she checked to see who the caller was, saw Syd’s name and turned off the phone.

That bitch.

Okay, this was good, he thought. I’m starting to get mad. Fuck Anne. Fuck that manipulative, lying bitch. I let her ruin my life seven years ago but I’m not going to let her ruin my life again. I was a happy, satisfied man before she popped into the bullpen, so just forget about the last forty-eight hours, man up, act like they never happened and focus on something constructive, like catching the Lady in Red.

Ryan aimed the Mustang toward Malibu and hit the speed dial for Syd.

Syd’s cell phone rang. She took it out of her purse and stared at it. It rang again. Syd saw the Caller ID, Ryan. She just stared at it. It rang again.

“You going to get that?” the Lady in Red asked.

“No,” she said. “He can leave a message.” Syd turned off her phone.

A lot had happened since Syd met the Lady in Red at the door with a gun in her hand…

When Syd pulled up to Blake’s Malibu home, she saw a white Prius parked in the driveway. Alice’s parents bought her a used white Prius so Syd knew she’d found her. She pulled her automatic as she approached the door. She was about to try the doorknob when the door swung open and she was face to face with the Lady in Red.

“Hello, Alice,” Syd said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Oh, shit, Alice thought. Not now, not yet. I have one more man to kill.

“Get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head or I will shoot you.”

Alice looked at the redheaded cop. She looked young, but there was steel in her tone and a don’t fuck with me glint in her green eyes.

Alice wondered if all handcuff keys were the same. She’d pocketed the keys to Blake’s handcuffs after she’d freed herself. Here’s hoping, she thought as she dropped to her knees.

With practiced precision Syd cuffed Alice. “Where’s your gun?” Syd asked as she slipped on a pair of surgical gloves.

Alice’s eyes dropped to her purse. Syd opened it, saw the Colt and scalpel. She took them out of the purse, slipped them into her jacket pocket. Then, just to be sure, she searched Alice. And found just one thing, a handcuff key.

What the hell, thought Syd.

Shit, thought Alice.

Syd was about to ask about the handcuff key when she noticed a crimson stain soaking through the shoulder of the Lady in Red’s shirt. “You’re bleeding.”

“You should see the other guy,” Alice said.

My thoughts exactly, thought Syd. Where the hell was Blake Hunter? She grabbed Alice by the handcuffs and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go,” she said.

It was only a few feet from the entry hall to the living room and Blake’s bloody corpse. Syd clocked the cock sticking out of his mouth. There was blood everywhere, his face a bloody pulp. “Jesus Christ,” Syd muttered. “Not up to your usual surgical standards.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens.”

Syd checked the body for a pulse, found none. She noticed the playing card on Blake’s chest, four of hearts. Then her eyes took in the rest of the crime scene. There was a trail of blood from the body to the middle of the room, where a small pool of blood stained the wood floor. Then she noticed something shining in the doorway to another room — a pair of handcuffs. That explains the key, Syd thought. Syd bent down picked them up. They were fur-lined. “Curiouser and curiouser,” Syd said.

She needed to search the rest of the house, make sure they were alone. “Don’t move,” she said to Alice and then quickly made her way down the bloodstained hall to the guest room and master bedroom, both clear. Then she stepped into the master bath. “Holy shit,” she muttered as she saw the bloodstained sink and towels.