William Bernhardt - Deadly Justice

“When you saw this, didn’t it make you suspect you were in danger?”

“I already knew. I suspected when Angel disappeared.” Her eyes reddened. “He got her the day after her birthday. I’d given her a present—one of those necklaces with a gold heart torn in half. You know, she’d keep one half, I’d keep the other. It was supposed to symbolize being friends for life.” Her eyes focused on the carpet. “Some friendship. The next day, she was gone. And now she’s dead.”

“What did you do next?”

“Like I said, I was suspicious when Angel disappeared. But I was certain when they got Suzie and Barbara. I tried to save Bobbie Rae, but I was too late. And then he came after me.”

“Who?” Ben grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “Who came after you?”

“I don’t know. I never saw him. But he tried to kill that policeman, and the next day he was all over The Stroll looking for me.”

“That’s why you went into hiding. It wasn’t the police you were hiding from. It was the killer.”

“Right. But I didn’t have anywhere to hide out. Sonny was no help—he wanted me back on the street. I didn’t know where to go. I sure as hell wasn’t going to trust the police again. Buddy was the only person who offered to help. He has this place his grandmother left him. He said I could stay here.”

“Thank goodness,” Ben said under his breath. If Buddy hadn’t gotten her off the street…well, he preferred not to think about it. “Does Buddy live alone?”

“Yeah, other than me. He used to have this boyfriend, but it didn’t work out. So he had plenty of room for me.

“When we were looking for you, we were told to follow the pennies. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the deal with the pennies?”

Her face flushed; for the first time, she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, that. That’s…nothing important.”

“I’m curious.”

“It’s just…see, I try to do nice stuff for people whenever I can, you know? Little rays of sunshine, I call them. Everything is so bad around here, it just seems like…well, any dumb thing might help. Sometimes I swipe change from a John’s pockets and buy flowers for the other girls. Or sometimes I whip up breakfast in bed—I do decent scrambled eggs. And whenever I get pennies, I throw them on the ground. You know, so other people can find them.”

“ ‘See a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck.’ ”

“Exactly.” Her cheeks were a bright crimson. “Super dumb, I know.”

Ben smiled. “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”

She shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “Well, we all do what we can.”

“Let me ask you one last question.” Ben touched his side gingerly. “What was that you stabbed me with?”

“Oh!” She reached under the sofa cushions. “I was in the kitchen when you came in. I just grabbed the first two things I saw—the blade from Buddy’s electric mixer, and the extension cord.”

“That blade really stung,” Ben said. “I’m glad you didn’t have time to get to the cutlery.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am. I was just so scared.” She placed her hand on his leg. “Are you sure there isn’t some way I can…make it up to you?”

“I’m sure there is.” Ben gently removed her hand and dropped it in her lap. “From now on, lock your front door.”

42

BEN TALKED WITH TRIXIE for almost three solid hours, until he had all the information he thought she could offer. Most of it didn’t pertain directly to the case. He knew from past experience, though, that sometimes the facts that turn out to be the most telling don’t even seem relevant at first. He tried to learn everything he could about Trixie, the Kindergarten Club, and life on The Stroll.

“Trixie, I have to leave for a short while, but I don’t want you to be here by yourself. How long till Buddy comes back?”

Trixie glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s already late. Probably stopped for coffee or something. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Ben said flatly. “I’m going to call a friend of mine to stay with you until I return.”

A fearful expression returned to her face. “Not a cop. I don’t want any cops.”

“Trixie, it’s for your own protection.”

“That’s what they said before. And the next thing I knew I was getting beat up again. For all I know, this killer is some sex pervert cop.”

“Trixie, I don’t think—”

“If you call a cop, I’m running out of here as fast as I can. And you won’t be able to stop me.”

Ben sighed. “All right. How about a woman, then? Not a cop. Someone I know we can trust.”

Her head tilted a fraction. “That might be all right. Who is it, your girlfriend?”

“Just a friend. But a very good one.”

Christina arrived about half an hour later. Her eyes were cloudy, and her strawberry blond hair was a jumbled mess, but she was there. She was wearing a gray sweatsuit and sneakers.

“Ben, do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Of course I do. It’s almost four A.M.”

“It was a rhetorical question, Ben.” She nodded toward the girl eyeing her carefully from the sofa. “Is that—?”

“Yes. The long-sought Trixie.”

“I figured as much. I’m impressed. Regular Dick Tracy you’re turning into.”

Ben introduced them, then let them chat a few minutes until Trixie appeared reasonably at ease with Christina. Christina soon had Trixie thoroughly engaged in an animated discussion of rock groups and music videos. Ben wrote out his name and his home and office phone numbers and addresses.

“I’m going to my apartment,” he explained to Trixie. “I need to call my office and tell them I won’t be in today, and then call…a friend of mine and tell him what I’ve been doing. And I need to feed my cat. As soon as I’ve taken care of all that, I’ll be right back here.”

“Great.” Ben was pleased to see Trixie smile a bit. She was beginning to trust him.

On his way out, Ben motioned for Christina. “She’s scared to death of the police,” Ben whispered. “That’s why I haven’t called Mike yet. But I will as soon as I get to my place. If you see anything suspicious, or anyone other than Buddy tries to come through that door, I want you to call the police immediately, whether Trixie likes it or not.”

“Understood.”

“Don’t take any risks.”

“The biggest risk here, Ben, is that I’ll return to the slumber my body so keenly craves.”

Ben pointed at Trixie. “If Christina’s eyelids begin to droop, poke her with that mixing blade.” Ben grinned at Christina. “Take my word for it. You won’t fall asleep.”

Night still blanketed the streets of Tulsa. As Ben headed home, the lights surrounding the TU campus cast a blue glow across his windshield. What a night it had been! Ben couldn’t believe he’d been up so long. It was worth it, though—the pieces were finally starting to come together. Hamel, the Kindergarten Club, the accident at Camp Sequoyah—it was all beginning to make a twisted sort of sense. He still didn’t know who the killer was, but the choices were definitely narrowing.

He turned onto Lewis. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the curb just outside his boardinghouse. Not a legal parking place, but who could be particular at this hour of the morning? He got out of his car and stretched; he was stiff from stem to stern. Maybe he would indulge in a shower and shave before he called Mike, just to clear the cobwebs out of his brain.

He froze halfway across the front yard. That was odd—the window to his upstairs room was open. He didn’t remember doing that. In fact, he never opened it; among other reasons, he didn’t want Giselle to get out. Would Mrs. Marmelstein have opened the window? As far as he knew, Mrs. Marmelstein never even went in unless he was home.