Lisa Gardner - Say Goodbye

“Yeah, okay.”

“Starting letters?”

“I don’t know. Honestly.” More defensive now. “I try not to know too much, okay? The girls that get into that…It’s like asking for trouble.”

“Describe him.”

Delilah’s eyes fell. She worried her lower lip. “Um, white. Middle-aged. Brown hair. Kind of wiry maybe, like a carpenter, someone who works with his hands. He has a smell to him, too. Some kind of chemical. I always figured he did some kind of trade, but I never asked.”

“Any distinguishing marks?”

“Like what?”

“Scar, tattoo, birthmark.”

“Well, you know, it’s not like the guy takes the time to undress…”

“On his face then?”

But Delilah merely shrugged. “I dunno. They all look alike to me.”

“They?”

“Men, johns, pervs, whatever you wanna call ’em. They’re all the same.”

Kimberly gave her a dubious look.

Delilah finally perked up. “Hey, there was one thing. His hat. He always wears a red baseball cap. I’ve never seen him without it. He doesn’t even take it off, when, well, you know. So a red baseball cap. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“It’s something,” Kimberly conceded and dutifully made a note. “Other clothing?”

“Jeans,” Delilah supplied. “Long-sleeved shirt. Kind of Eddie Bauerish, I guess. Outdoorsy, but preppy outdoorsy. I think he has money.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The car, the clothes, the hourly rate. Not just any shlub can afford that.”

“Describe his voice.”

“Ummm, a guy’s voice?”

“Accent?”

Delilah considered the matter. “Southern. A drawl, but not too deep.”

“Where are you from, Delilah?”

But the girl wouldn’t answer.

“Accent? Vocabulary? Do you think he’s educated?”

“He knows a lot about spiders.”

“So do you.”

Delilah flushed. “My brother had one as a pet, long time ago. Named her Eve. I used to help him catch crickets for her. She was really pretty. Spideyman…he’s not just a pet owner. He had this white spider, I once called it a tarantula and he got all mad at me: ‘She’s not just some tarantula, she’s a Grammostola rosea …’-some Chilean kind of tarantula or something like that. He got pretty angry I didn’t know the difference. He kind of…”

“He kind of what?”

“He scared me.”

“How?”

“Just, the look on his face. I don’t know.” The girl shrugged. “For a moment, I kind of thought…maybe I was a specimen, too. You know, Slutto hookeroso .” Delilah smiled wanly at her joke, but her eyes weren’t in it.

“Did he threaten you?”

“No. He didn’t have to. You could see it on his face. Some guys are like that, you know. They want you to see it coming.”

Kimberly didn’t comment on that. She’d been involved in law enforcement long enough to know Delilah had a point. “So how does he approach girls? In his car?”

“Not always. I mean, it’s not exactly a street corner kind of game out there. It’s more, you go to the right places, hang out, maybe you’ll meet the right man.”

“You go to a club,” Kimberly filled in. “You make a move, he makes a move. Then what happens?”

“You follow him. Maybe to a car, or someplace…quieter. You work out the details along the way. Get the money up front, do what you gotta do, then bada bing, bada boom, it’s all done, and you’re outta there.”

“And in the case of Mr. Dinchara, where did he lead you?”

“His SUV.”

“Did you ever have a problem getting back out?”

“No, but I make it quick. If you get the money up front, then you can make your exit while he’s still…happy. Makes for a better getaway.”

Kimberly arched a brow. “So basically, while the guy’s pants are still down around his ankles, you’re exiting stage right.”

“Works like a charm.”

“So you know Mr. Dinchara, and Ginny Jones knows Mr. Dinchara. Now why do you think Mr. Dinchara had something to do with Ginny going away?”

“Because the last time I saw her, she was with him. I saw them walking down the street, away from a club. I was actually a bit pissed, you know. I mean seriously, he paid half a night’s work.”

“And?”

“And that’s the last time I saw Ginny.”

Kimberly took a moment, organizing the information in her head, composing her next statement. “Delilah, this is all very interesting, but I can’t do anything with it.”

“Why not?”

“No evidence of a crime.”

The girl looked at her funny. “Don’t you believe me? I’m telling the truth. Ginny was my friend. He hurt her. He should pay!”

“In the last three months,” Kimberly asked bluntly, “have you seen Spideyman again?”

Delilah’s gaze slid away. “Maybe.”

“Did you conduct any business with him?”

Barely a whisper now. “Maybe.”

“Like you said,” Kimberly murmured, “money’s good. You’re still willing to be alone with him, Delilah. How bad can he be?”

The girl didn’t answer for a long time. When she finally did, Kimberly had to lean forward to catch her words. “Last time I was with him, I was on my knees. Doing, you know. And right at the final moment, his hands suddenly wrapped around my neck, squeezed. I couldn’t breathe. I was choking, hitting at him. And I heard him…I heard him whisper, Ginny. Then all of a sudden, he released my neck and I got the hell out of there.

“Thing is, I don’t think he knows he said it. I think he was caught up in the moment. But I’m not sure. Maybe he realized it later. Maybe he knows that I know. I can’t…I don’t feel so good about things anymore. Because what if he did hurt Ginny? Choked her like that. And what if I’m the only one who can connect her to him? You gotta help me. It’s not just about Ginny. It’s me, too. I need police protection.”

Kimberly sighed, rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You want my trust? Let’s start with your real name.”

“Delilah Rose. You can look it up, the police did.”

“Name, date of birth.”

“Why is it always about me? I always gotta prove, prove, prove. I just gave you a pervert on a silver platter. Maybe you should prove yourself to me for a change.”

“Which brings me to my second question: Why’d you call me? How’d you even know my name?”

Delilah wasn’t as quick to answer this time. If anything, Kimberly thought the girl suddenly appeared sly. “You’re the one who caught the Eco-Killer. I saw it on the news. The rookie agent, a girl, no less. I figure if Spideyman killed Ginny, you’re the one who can make it right.”

“I can’t make it right, Delilah. There’s no evidence of a crime, and even if there was, it’s not my party. You need to talk to the Sandy Springs PD.”

“No. It has to be you. You caught the Eco-Killer, you’ll help Ginny.”

“Delilah-”

“I got something.”

Kimberly stilled, eyed the girl more warily. “What is something?”

“That night, when he was choking me, I happened to notice it on the floor, beneath the seat. When he wasn’t looking, I scooped it up.” Delilah looked around the room, as if to ensure they were really alone, then she reached down into her halter top, producing from her left bra cup a heavy gold ring.

“It’s Ginny’s,” she whispered, plopping it on the table with a metallic thud. “She used to wear it on a chain around her neck. She never took it off. I mean never. So, see, this proves Ginny was in Spideyman’s truck.”

Kimberly arched a brow, but moved the ring closer to her, using the tip of her pen and careful not to touch. It looked to her to be a class ring. The center stone was blue. Some kind of inscription appeared on the inside but was hard to read, given the layers of grime.