Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2) (3 page)

I couldn’t believe my ears. After knowing I was basically responsible for how she’d spent her last year, all the pain and torment she’d been through, she was still the same kind, forgiving, loving person. What an amazing woman—a truly amazing woman.

I hugged Miranda again and gave her the warmest kiss I could muster up. I hated letting her down and seeing a look of disappoint in her eyes.

“I’m sorry I never told you about all of this. I never in a million years thought Stacy and Lisa were the same person. It was all so long ago. I suppose I was afraid . . . . afraid of what you’d think of me and my cowardice.” We hugged  again. Then I reached down and gently kissed her lips.

“Well, Dad, you’re on a roll. Anymore skeletons you want to unload while you’re at it?”

“Hilary, that’s enough,” Miranda said. ”We’ve all been through so much. And it’s not over, not by a long shot. All we have is family, and right now one of us is missing. I need your dad to suck it up now and find my baby!”

That was exactly what I intended to do. Time to track down Lisa “Stacy” Crease and find my Karen.

Chapter 3

Miranda lay down on the couch to take a nap. I was glad she decided to crash there. I was hopeful that Stacy had left something that could help me track her down behind. I went upstairs to my room to see what I could find. I scoured the room for her laptop, but she must have managed to grab it. There were clothes and other things I needed to rid the room of before I would feel comfortable bringing Miranda back into the fold, so to speak. I didn’t want her to hurt any more than she already had. She’d definitely been through more than enough.

Miranda’s return was bittersweet. Having her back was an answered prayer, but in return, I’d lost my little princess. I heard my cell phone ringing on the table.

I reached down to answer. “Hello?”

“David, it’s me, Wilcrest.”

“Hey, Cap. What’s up? Tell me you found Karen and its over.”

“I don’t even know where to start, David. I got some boys over at Stacy’s . . . you know, Lisa’s place trying to get a bead on where she’s run off to. So far we’ve come up empty-handed. I mean, we’ve found a lot of things here but nothing that indicates where she may have run off to.”

“I have some things to clean up here while Miranda is resting. I’ll be another hour or so here then I’ll be over to help.”

“I got even more bad news for you, David. One of the officers called in a possible homicide. I haven’t been out to check on it yet. If I had to guess, Stacy left a going-away present for us. The vic is almost an exact match to Karen. Height, size, weight—”

“I got it,” I said, cutting him off. “Goddamn it, I got it!”

Was Stacy just reminding me who she was and what she was capable of? Or maybe it was Karen. I felt directly responsible for her kidnapping in more ways than one. In bringing Stacy into our lives and our home, I’d allowed her to be in this position. With all the murder cases I’d worked, all the years of experience, there should’ve been no way that could happen. But I’d allowed her beauty and sexuality to cloud my judgement. I was overlooking things that a detective with half my experience would have noticed. Sometimes we overlook the most obvious things. Stacy pushed all my buttons; she played me. They say love is blind, but I guess lust is, too.

“I gotta run, Cap. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, David. One more thing. There’s a new case that’s probably going to need your attention—as soon as we find Karen, of course.”

Like I really needed one more thing right now, especially another case to solve.

“Whatcha got?”

“Well, John Blake—
the
John Blake—turned up dead last night. Both hands sawed off along with . . . that. Yes,
that
. Someone calling herself the Widowmaker. Smeared some of his blood on the wall, threatening there’d be more to come. Quite a bloody mess she left behind. Doesn’t feel like a random murder scene.”

“Everyone knows Blake loved strippers and strip clubs. He try to stiff somebody? Maybe a pimp or bodyguard take him out and use some Widowmaker moniker as a cover up? Where’d they find the body?”

“Motel. Manager called it in. Of course the room was paid for by Blake in cash.”

“We download security videos?”

“Already did. Got nothing. We see a girl walking in but can’t tell anything else about her. The footage is too grainy.”

“Blake at a strip club last night?”

“We asked around, but all the nightclubs said no sign of Blake all week.”

“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t there. Doesn’t mean he didn’t meet her at one before, either. That’s probably where the connection was initially made. Send some boys over to his favorite clubs. See what they can turn up. Gotta be a girl who Blake spent a good amount of time with somewhere. Heartbreakers is one minute away from my house. I’ll take that one. Call me later.”

It wasn’t uncommon for me to be juggling multiple cases at once; actually, it had sort of become expected of me. First things first: I had to finish up here and get to Stacy’s asap. I needed to get started on tracking down everything I could about Lisa Crease—who she was before college and what she had turned into after. I needed to know everything about her.

Hilary begrudgingly joined me in getting rid of Stacy’s things and helped me clean up the telltale signs of their scuffle.

“Hilary, I’m really sorry you got caught up in this.” I pulled her close to me and we shared a hug. I needed to do that more often.

She wiped a tear from her face.  “Me, too, Dad. I’m going to my room if we’re finished.”

The cleanup complete, I went downstairs to check on Miranda. She was still sound asleep. I just stared at her for a moment.

It all made sense to me now. The child killings, the mysterious woman at Karen’s school, the blonde at the beach while we were on vacation, the woman who dragged De Luca from the accident—all Stacy. I went back upstairs and settled in front of the computer. It was time to start searching. I pulled up one of our police department databases to see what I could find.

My initial searches came up empty. Somehow, Stacy had managed to make Lisa Crease disappear. Almost. Finally, I came across something. Crease was a native of New Orleans. I wondered if she’d gone back there. She’d grown up there and might know the area well. And they’re notorious for their bayous, swamps, and all sorts of unmarked streets. Lots of good places to hide.

I’d also uncovered more about her past. Crease had been molested by her uncle when she was five. A newspaper clipping with a hit on Crease showed he’d died in a house fire twenty years ago. I had a sneaking suspicion that fire was no accident. It also made what I’d been a part of back at Tech that much worse. It was painstakingly obvious to me now that her accusations against the team and me weren’t just a ploy for her fifteen minutes of fame. The girl had been hurt that way before, at least once, and was out for blood. She’d apparently decided she would no longer be the victim, and right now I was her prize. God, how long had she been planning this thing out?

I’d made a good friend in the military that happened to be from New Orleans and was now a detective on the force there.

I pulled out my phone and thumbed for his number.

“Paul Lafitte? David Porter here.”

“Hey, my friend! Long time. How the hell are you, David?” I could hear the surprise in his voice.

“Long time indeed. I wish this call was to catch up on old times, but it’s not so I’ll get right to the point. My youngest daughter, Karen, is in trouble. She’s been kidnapped, Paul.”

“David . . . man. I . . . when did this happen?”

“It’s a long story; I’ll fill you in later. I know who did it. Girl named Lisa Crease. Goes by Stacy Demornay now. There’s a bit of history there, too. I’ll have to fill you in later on that as well. Look, I know Crease is from New Orleans, so I’m thinking maybe that’s where she’ll run to hide. Easy to get lost in those bayous.”

Lafitte had already logged into his laptop and was waiting for it to load. “I’ll pull up everything I can on her, see if I can find an LKA, too. Maybe she’ll go back there. It’s a longshot, but crazier things have happened. Hey, I got her file up right here. Hang on a second. Yeah, I remember when her uncle’s house burned down. You know, some of the boys didn’t think that was an accident, but we didn’t find a darn thing to suggest otherwise.”

“I believe their hunch was right. In fact, I might even have dug up what would be an excellent motive. Listen, keep your eyes open and put out a soft search for Crease. If she’s back or headed that direction, I don’t want to spook her. Lord knows what she’ll do to Karen if she thinks I’m close. I’ll be in New Orleans in a few days, Paul. Thank you, my friend.”

I disconnected and kept my fingers crossed that something would turn up and fast. It felt good to talk to my old friend. I’d become so busy—obsessed, almost—with my job that I hadn’t done a good job of staying connected with my friends. Given the nature of my work and how quickly it could all be over, I promised myself I would do better.

Chapter 4

I walked over to the couch and tucked Miranda in then I headed for Heartbreakers to get started on the Widowmaker case while I waited on Lafitte to call me back.

It was only a short drive, but Sports Radio 610 was broadcasting the Texans game, and I found myself listening for a minute. I hated the way my football career had ended and still dearly missed playing.

I found a spot close to the entrance and parked my truck. Oddly enough, a giant J. J. Watt billboard lined the side of an eighteen wheeler parked nearby.
More football memories. Go figure.
As I headed for the front door, two guys came out. They gave me a strange look as we approached each other. I didn’t recognize either of the men, but both of them looked like trouble. The taller man stood about six foot five and was built like he’d spent his last fifteen years at the Darrington Unit in Rosharon. I’d put enough guys like that away to recognize the prison tats, too.

As we passed each other, the one closest to me gave me a hard bump. I could tell it wasn’t an accident.

“Excuse me,” I said, making sure to give him a hard stare.

“You’re excused, cop,” the man replied. They both laughed.

I didn’t have time to play games with these two in the parking lot, so I kept moving.
What the hell was that all about?

When I got inside, there was a kid behind the counter; I didn’t waste any time.

“Hey, everything okay out there? Those are two of my regulars,” he said with a serious look on his face.

I wanted to laugh. This kid really thought he was some kind of tough guy.

He held out his hand for my money. “And it’ll be ten dollars. You’re not gonna have a problem here, now are you, sir?”

I was fed up with his bravado and his rhetoric. I really didn’t have time for his games, either.

“Listen,” I said, flipping out my ID.  “I’m not some perv here to gawk at tits and ass. I’m here on official police business. You got it, J.R.?”

He backed up a half step. “Yes, sir. I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry; just don’t be a dick. I have a few questions I need you to answer. Number one, did you work the front desk last night?”

The kid stopped making eye contact with me and was kicking at something on the floor. Clearly I had already rattled his cage.

“Did you or did you not work the front desk last night?”

“I did,” he said, still looking at the ground.

“John Blake—was he here?”

“I’m not sure I know him. Do you have a picture?”

This kid was good. Too smart for his own damn good, though.

“Listen, I’ve got way too much pent-up anger right now for you to be fucking with me.”

He looked up slowly. The smart-ass grin had been replaced by a nervous smirk.

He folded his arms. “Listen, sir. I don’t know nothing.”

“Actually, I’m willing to bet you know a lot. But it seems like you’d be more comfortable talking about it at the station. Oftentimes people’s memories clear up a lot better there,” I said as I reached for my cuffs.

“Am I under arrest or something? What’d I do?”

“This is a murder investigation. I believe you’re withholding evidence. It’s called obstruction of justice.”

He took a step back from the counter and began chewing at his fingernails.

“Listen, Blake was here last night. Went to the back like he usually does, probably upstairs after that. I don’t know much else, I swear.”

“He have a regular here he came to see? What’s her name?”

“I don’t know who he saw, honestly. He did have a few he liked more than others, but I don’t know who was working last night.”

“I need a list of all the girls Blake sat with on a regular basis—his favorites. And I also need a list of all the girls who worked last night and when they left the club.”