Girl Eight Read online

Will Kara be okay? Will she survive?

  She knew the best thing she could do was stay out of the way and allow the medical professionals to take care of Kara. Her questions and concerns would only cause unnecessary delays.

  Feeling useless, Eden decided to let Reggie Horn know what was going on. The director of the Mercy Harbor Foundation would want to know that a resident in their new addiction treatment facility had overdosed. And maybe Reggie would be able to find out what had happen, and how Kara had gotten access to a whole bottle of methadone.

  The phone rang twice before Eden heard her friend’s tense voice.

  “I’ve heard an ambulance was called out to Hope House and I’m on my way. Do you know what happened?”

  “It’s Kara Stanislaus. Apparently she overdosed on methadone. We found an empty prescription bottle.”

  “Is she going to make it?”

  The fear in Reggie’s voice matched her own, and Eden wished she could offer reassurance.

  “Well Dr. Bellows gave her an antidote. Nalo-something.”

  “Naloxone? That’s good. Did he get it from our pharmacy?” Reggie asked, sounding relieved.

  “He had it with him. Just pulled it out of his pocket.” Eden remembered the doctor’s critical comments. “He says everyone here should have it on hand.”

  “He’s right, and we do have a supply of the kits in the pharmacy. Gloria is there today. She can provide an emergency dose to any of the staff. But perhaps Dr. Bellows didn’t know that. He just started volunteering a few weeks back and is still getting used to things. We all are I guess.”

  Eden heard the doubt in Reggie’s voice and felt a wave of sympathy wash through her. It hadn’t been easy opening up the new facility in only three months, and they’d all worked night and day to get the place ready.

  Their rush to open up Hope House had been prompted by the desire to create something positive in the aftermath of the recent tragic events in Willow Bay; the events had resulted in the death of three young women and the kidnapping of Eden’s niece, Hope. Once Hope had been rescued and things had returned to normal, Eden and Reggie had decided to expand the Mercy Harbor services to help other young women fight addiction and avoid the terrible consequences that often followed.

  “Well, Dr. Bellows must carry around his own supply,” Eden reassured Reggie. “So, it worked out. I just hope it was enough to save Kara.”

  Just then the paramedics pushed Kara past Eden on the stretcher, a blanket pulled up to her neck and an oxygen mask over her mouth.

  Eden rushed after the stretcher, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl’s face, wanting to know if she had regained consciousness.

  As she emerged from the building she saw the ambulance doors were open and waiting for the stretcher. She looked around and was relieved to see Reggie running toward her from the parking lot.

  “Reggie, can you watch Duke? I’d like to ride with Kara in the ambulance.”

  “Sure, I’ll keep him here with me. And he can always come home with me if needed.”

  Reggie’s big brown eyes looked worried, but she smiled, her lips bright red against even white teeth. She bent over and ruffled Duke’s fur.

  “I’ll be glad to have some company, and we’ll be fine. Now go. And let me know what happens.”

  Eden waited for the paramedics to secure the stretcher into the back of the ambulance then climbed in and perched on a narrow bench. She watched the blanket rise and fall, letting the gentle rhythm calm her nerves and coax her own breathing into a deep, even pattern.

  “You’re going to be all right,” Eden whispered and raised a hand to smooth back a strand of long, dark hair from Kara’s forehead.

  The trill of Eden’s cell phone sounded in her pocket, and she hurriedly took out the phone and rejected the call, wanting to stop the noise. Looking down at the display she saw a phone number that had become increasingly familiar.

  Leo Steele’s handsome face flashed through her mind as she remembered the plans they’d made for that evening. The past few months had been busy for both of them, and tonight was supposed to be their first official date. She’d even bought a new outfit for the occasion.

  Eden looked again at Kara’s motionless form on the stretcher and sighed as she composed a text message.

  Sorry, must cancel dinner. Headed to ER. Will call and explain later.

  After switching the ringer off, she dropped the phone back into her pocket and listened to the wail of the sirens as the ambulance raced down the highway toward Willow Bay General Hospital.

  Chapter Three

  Leo read the incoming text message from Eden with a worried frown, then dropped the cell phone back on his desk, not knowing if he should be worried about her unexpected trip to the emergency room or annoyed that their big Friday night date had been cancelled.

  He’d been counting on a romantic candlelight dinner to take his mind off his increasingly obsessive search for his mother’s killer. And he’d hoped the evening may be the start of a more intimate relationship with the woman who was constantly present in his thoughts but rarely with him in real life.

  Before he could decide how he should respond to Eden’s text, he heard the faint tinkling sound that indicated someone had opened the front door to the law office.

  Loud male voices, followed by the quieter, amused voice of his paralegal, Pat, alerted Leo that Pete Barker and Frankie Dawson had finally arrived, thirty minutes late for their two o’clock meeting.

  Leo stood up and walked down the hall to the lobby.

  “Glad to see you guys are taking this investigation seriously,” he said, looking at his watch and offering the two men a tight smile.

  “Yeah, it’s as serious as a heart attack, right Barker?” Frankie’s voice cracked into a high-pitched laugh as he clutched his chest.

  “Real nice, Frankie.”

  Barker rolled his eyes and looked over at Pat, who sat at the reception desk with a cup of tea in her hands and her little pug, Tinkerbell, curled up by her feet.

  Pat Monahan shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest in a way that let Leo know she was becoming impatient.

  “I’ve got work to do and you boys are keeping me from it,” the older woman stated, turning to her computer and pushing her glasses on. “And you’re interrupting Tinkerbell’s nap.”

  Leo motioned for Frankie and Barker to follow him into his office and waved them over to a long table against the far wall. Piles of files, paper and notebooks were stacked on the table, along with dozens of yellow sticky notes.

  “Welcome to my war room, gentlemen.”

  “Well, it certainly looks like a bomb’s gone off in here,” Barker groaned, eyeing the piles of information that needed to be reviewed.

  Leo regarded the retired detective. He looked healthy enough, but maybe the case would prove too much for the older man after his recent heart attack and unexpectedly early retirement.

  “You know me, Leo.”

  Frankie dug a long, skinny hand into his pocket and pulled out a loose cigarette.

  “I’m not good at all this paperwork bullshit. I’m better used out on the street, tracking down clues and creeps.”

  “Right, I agree,” Leo replied, glad to see Frankie looking alert and sober. “Now put that cancer stick back in your pocket. This is a non-smoking office.”

  Leo searched through a tall stack of files, looking for the information he’d pulled together on the Natalie Lorenzo case. He grabbed a thick manila folder and opened it on the table in front of them.

  Next he picked up an even thicker folder that held all the information he’d collected on his mother’s case over the years and arranged it next to the Lorenzo file.

  “Our first task is to compare these two cases and see if we can find a link. Both homicides took place in Willow Bay back in 2006.”

  Leo put his left hand on the Lorenzo file.

  “Natalie Lorenzo was strangled at the Old Canal Motel in May 2006.”

  He placed
his right hand on his mother’s file.

  “My mother, Helena Steele, was killed two weeks later in her own bed. Her throat had been cut.”

  Leo stared at the men in front of him, willing himself to keep his tone neutral, his face impassive. He couldn’t let them see how much it hurt him to speak of his mother’s murder and the wrongful conviction of his father.

  His family had been destroyed by the senseless act of an unknown killer. A killer that may still be out there, free to kill other women, free to destroy other families.

  Leo cleared his throat and continued.

  “At this point the only link between the two murders is the fact that two women were violently murdered in the town of Willow Bay within two weeks of each other. Other than that, they seem unrelated.”

  Barker pulled over a chair and sat down in front of the open files. He looked at the photo paper-clipped to the inside cover of the Natalie Lorenzo folder.

  A thin woman with limp brown hair and red-rimmed eyes stared out at him. The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know about the life she’d led before some sick bastard decided to end it.

  “I never did see her alive,” Barker finally said, wishing he’d never seen her dead either.

  The image of her dead, bloated body had implanted itself in his mind, reappearing in dreams every so often, as if to make sure he didn’t forget her.

  “You and Ingram were on the case.”

  Leo reached out and snagged a newspaper clipping. An article on the homicide included a black and white photo of a younger, heavier version of Barker. He stood outside the Willow Bay Police department fending off a group of reporters.

  Frankie leaned over Barker’s shoulder and read the caption in a loud, cheerful voice.

  “Detective Peter Barker admits no new leads in motel murder.”

  Barker glared over at Frankie, his fists clenching on the table in front of him.

  “Very good, Frankie, I didn’t know you could read.”

  Frankie’s smile faded at the insult, making Leo wonder if they would all be able to work together effectively. He wasn’t sure.

  Pete Barker had been an old-school police detective before a heart attack gave him an excuse to retire early. He normally didn’t hang out with wise-cracking ex-cons that boasted a two-pack-a-day habit like Frankie. At first glance, the men couldn’t be more different.

  And Leo was a workaholic defense lawyer convinced that the police had wrongly convicted his father. So, on the surface the three men appeared to have nothing in common, nothing to bring them together and allow them to solve two cold cases that no one else cared about.

  But Leo had known the men for years, and he had come to believe they all held the same view of the world. They were all jaded in their own ways, all willing to work outside the system, but deep down all three of the men wanted to see justice done.

  “Can you both just cut the crap and give each other a break?”

  Leo’s voice was hard. The investigation meant too much to him to entrust it to anyone who couldn’t focus on what was important.

  “I asked you guys to help me because I need fresh eyes on these files, and fresh information from potential witnesses and leads. If you’re going to spend all your time pissing each other off, then I don’t need you.”

  “Sorry, Leo,” Frankie muttered, fidgeting with the unlit cigarette. “I’ll stop messin’ around.”

  Barker relaxed his shoulders and gave Leo an affirmative nod.

  “Yeah, you got it, Steele. All business from now on.”

  Barker began turning pages in the Helena Steele file. He stopped and stared at a photo of an attractive woman with dark, shoulder-length hair and a wide, friendly smile.

  “I can see the resemblance,” Barker murmured, not meeting Leo’s eyes. “She looks like a nice lady.”

  “She was.”

  Leo swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat.

  “She didn’t deserve to die the way she did. Her killer is still out there walking around free, and my dad paid for what he did.”

  “It’s a fucking shame,” Frankie agreed, shaking his head.

  Leo felt a rush of gratitude at the emotion he heard behind the words. Frankie knew what it felt like to be convicted of a crime he hadn’t committed; he understood the grief and rage that had pushed Leo’s father to commit suicide.

  “Your mother worked at the old community health center?” Barker asked, staring down at a page of hand-written notes.

  “Sometimes,” Leo said. “She was a social worker for the county. She had an office at the center to meet with patients that had been tagged by the medical staff as potential victims of abuse or violence.”

  “You know Natalie Lorenzo had been attending a court-mandated substance abuse class there in the weeks before she died?”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  Leo’s mind churned with possibilities.

  Had they finally found a link between Natalie Lorenzo and his mother? Had the two women known each other? Had their killer been somehow connected with the health center?

  “I don’t remember all the details,” Barker said. “It’s been a long time. But I remember her police file included the court order about the community health center. Ingram and I went by there and talked to some of the staff.”

  Leo’s heart pounded at the thought that Barker may have talked to his mother. Perhaps even taken a statement.

  “We need to see the police files on the Lorenzo case,” Leo said, staring down at Barker. “And you need to get them.”

  “Hold on, Steele. I highly doubt they’ll just hand me the files.”

  Barker raised thick eyebrows and grimaced up at Leo.

  “From what I’ve heard the chief put the whole department on notice. He was pissed that the story on Reinhardt went public before he could do any damage control. Said he’d fire anyone caught leaking to the press or sharing information outside the department.”

  “So, ask Nessa to do you a favor,” Leo insisted, undeterred by the WBPD’s new policies. “No one else has to know.”

  Leo knew that Barker’s ex-partner, Detective Nessa Ainsley, would be the most likely source to help them out. She hadn’t been on the force back when his mother had been murdered, but she was one of the few detectives that Leo trusted to do the right thing, no matter how hard it might be.

  “I guess I can ask her,” Barker muttered, not sounding very happy about it.

  Leo patted Barker on the back and considered his next step.

  “I’ll check the legal files and business records for the health center. See if I can access a list of employees or patients somehow.”

  “And I’ll scope out the neighborhood around the old health center. See if anyone remembers Natalie,” Frankie offered.

  Adrenaline pounded through Leo’s veins at the thought that Natalie Lorenzo and the community health center might lead him to his mother’s killer.

  He studied Barker and Frankie with shining eyes.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter Four

  Nessa was starting to think she might be able to make it home in time to take the kids out for pizza, and that Jerry may even agree to treat Cole and Cooper to a Friday night movie, when the phone on her desk began to ring.

  “Detective Nessa Ainsley, how can I help?”

  She held the receiver between her shoulder and her ear, automatically reaching for a notepad and pen.

  “I thought you’d have snuck out by now, Nessa. Five o’clock Friday afternoon and you’re still picking up calls?”

  The sound of Pete Barker’s gruff voice brought sudden tears to Nessa’s eyes. They hadn’t spoken in months; she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him.

  “I was just leaving, actually,” Nessa shot back, blinking hard. “Seems Jerry got used to me being around while I was recuperating and now he gets jumpy if I’m gone too long.”

  “Can’t blame the guy, can you? His wife d
id get shot in the line of duty. Be glad you’ve got someone at home that cares.”

  Nessa winced at Barker’s words. She knew he was right. She was lucky to have Jerry and the boys. After everything that had happened in the last few months she should be thanking her lucky stars she was still alive to take her sons out to a movie and kiss her husband good-night.

  Poor Barker wasn’t so lucky. He was alone now, and she knew he regretted spending so many nights away from the wife and daughter who were no longer a part of his life.

  “So, what’s the special occasion, Barker? You been missing me?”

  “Every day, Nessa,” Barker said, his voice soft, almost sad. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I actually need a favor.”

  Nessa put down the pen and sat back in her chair, relieved that the last-minute call did not involve a complaint or an urgent request that would derail her plans for the evening.

  “Oh, now I see.” Nessa let her southern drawl creep into her words as she teased Barker, wanting to lighten the mood. “You’ve just been buttering me up with all that sweet talk so you can ask for a favor.”

  “I need to look through a couple case files from 2006. Two cold case homicides I’m investigating.”

  Barker’s words surprised Nessa into momentary silence.

  “What do you mean investigating? Are you taking on private work now?”

  “Something like that, Nessa. I’m helping Leo Steele investigate his mother’s murder. He’s convinced the real killer is still out there. He wants to find out who killed her, and he wants to clear his father’s name.”

  Nessa digested the information, not sure how she felt about Leo Steele and Pete Barker investigating a case that the department had solved and closed long ago.

  The WBPD had gotten enough bad press lately. Chief Kramer would go ballistic if he found out Barker was digging around in old cases stirring up more doubt about the department.

  “You said a couple of cases. What other case are you and Leo Steele working on?”

  “The Natalie Lorenzo homicide. You know I was the lead on that case. I was partnered up with Ingram back then. I think I told you how that case shook me up.”