True Colors (30 page)
The tired resignation in his voice tugged at Alex. He was too young to be so beaten down. “Who hit you, Justin?” she asked.
“SpongeBob. I made fun of his pants.”
“Damn it, Justin—”
Alex stopped Logan with a hand on his arm. “Why don’t we give him a break for now?”
Logan looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “We need to know—”
“I know. But he doesn’t want to tell us. What are you going to do? Torture it out of him?”
Justin smirked. “Yeah. Are you going to torture it out of me?”
“Not a bad idea, actually,” Logan said with a dark scowl.
“Just give him time,” Alex said. “He’ll talk.”
“No, he won’t,” Justin said.
“Not a good sign, buddy,” Logan said, “when you start referring to yourself in the third person.”
“Ow, that really hurt.” Justin grabbed his chest and pretended an arrow had struck him in the heart.
“Bite me,” Logan muttered and pulled back onto the road.
The rest of the ride to Noah’s office was silent, and Alex used the time to figure out how to get Justin alone. An empathic foray into his head could answer all of Logan’s questions. It would hurt like hell, but if it helped this troubled teenager, she could suck it up.
Besides, whatever had happened to him couldn’t be nearly as bad as what had happened to Butch McGee as a child.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
A
lex hadn’t visited Noah’s office since he and Charlie had finished the remodel. The newly painted words on the frosted glass of the door said: LASSITER PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS. When Logan pushed open the door to let Alex and Justin walk in ahead of him, the scents of new carpet, fresh paint and leather flowed over Alex.
lex hadn’t visited Noah’s office since he and Charlie had finished the remodel. The newly painted words on the frosted glass of the door said: LASSITER PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS. When Logan pushed open the door to let Alex and Justin walk in ahead of him, the scents of new carpet, fresh paint and leather flowed over Alex.
The office’s new décor screamed competent male. A cherrywood receptionist desk, dark brown leather chairs and a matching overstuffed sofa furnished a comfortable, reassuring waiting area. Freshly painted beige walls, plush light brown carpet and multiple plants kept the space from looking gloomy. Another door, sporting a glass window, led to an inner office that held Noah’s desk and more furniture in the same vein. Charlie was perched on the desk, facing Noah, with a teasing smile on her lips as he idly caressed her knee.
Alex had to tap on the window to get their attention, and then Charlie hopped off the desk and strode out to meet them while Noah flipped closed the open files on his desk.
“What took you guys so long?” Charlie stopped when she saw the teenager. “Oh, hi.”
“This is Justin.” Alex set her camera bag on the floor. “I wouldn’t shake his hand, though. We found him in the alley behind the Green Iguana.”
Justin shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like I’ve got Ebola.”
Logan nudged him forward a step. “How do we know? You wouldn’t tell us if you did.”
Alex grabbed Logan’s hand and squeezed, trying to tell him without using words to lay off the kid. “Perhaps you could go in and talk to Noah while Charlie and I get Justin set up with a shower and some clean clothes?”
“And lunch,” Justin added. “I’m starving.”
“Make sure it’s something healthy,” Logan said over his shoulder. “Salad from somewhere. A big one. He really hates anything from McDonald’s.”
“Screw you,” Justin called after him. “I’m getting my cooties all over the nice new furniture in here.”
Justin plopped down into a waiting room chair, slumped back and rested his chin on his chest like a sullen kid half his age.
Anxiety, Alex thought. And fear. Both bled off him in waves.
Charlie inched closer to Alex so she could keep her voice at a level that stayed between them. “Okay, so, um, this is an interesting turn of events. What happened to the cranky teenager?”
“I’ll explain later,” Alex said softly. To Justin, she said, “There’s a men’s room that has a shower in it out the door and down the hall on the right.”
She knelt on one knee to dig through the bottom of her camera bag, then came up with a plastic Publix bag filled with trial sizes of Dove soap, shampoo and conditioner as well as a change of clothes. You never knew when chasing a news story would make a mess of a girl’s look. She’d covered too many hurricanes, dripping wet, and wild fires, reeking of smoke, to travel without backups.
“You’re always prepared,” Charlie said with an admiring smile.
Alex walked over to the chair and dropped the toiletries into Justin’s hand. When he scowled at the labels, she said, “Yeah, they’re girlie, but even you must be sick of the way you smell. While you shower, my sister and I will go to the clothing store next door and pick up some clean clothes.”
“Isn’t that a place for old farts?” Justin asked.
“I could lend you the clothes in my bag, but if you think the shampoo is girlie . . .”
“Just don’t get me black socks to wear with shorts. I hate that stupid look.”
“Agreed. Now, I’m trusting you not to hightail it out the door the minute our backs are turned,” Alex said. “If you think Logan is ticked at you now, go ahead and do that and see how fast you regret it.”
Justin’s chin inched up. “He doesn’t scare me.”
“That’s good, because he’s not trying to. He’s trying to help you. But the main thing to keep in mind is that he knows who you are now. If you take off, he’ll have every cop in Lake Avalon looking for you. And there are no other cops around here who have the patience that Logan has. Got it?”
Justin didn’t nod, but he didn’t sneer, either, which Alex considered acceptance. “Take a long, hot shower. With lots of soap.”
Once he’d left the office, grumbling under his breath, Charlie asked, “You trust him not to take off?”
“No. I’m hoping you’ll do me a favor and pick up the clothes while I guard the bathroom door.”
“Noah’s got his gym bag with him,” Charlie said. “His workout clothes would be too big, but they’re clean.”
“Perfect. We wouldn’t want to force old-fart couture on the poor kid.”
Charlie disappeared into Noah’s office to retrieve the offerings while Alex opened the door that led into the office building’s inside hallway and kept an eye out for an escaping teenager.
When Charlie returned with black gym shorts, a white T-shirt and clean socks, they both took up position outside the men’s room door. Alex listened for a moment, then smiled as she heard the telltale whoosh of water from a showerhead.
“So what gives?” Charlie asked.
“He and Logan don’t quite see eye to eye.”
“Logan did that to his face?”
“What? No! God, no. Justin won’t tell us who did it.” Alex paused. “He’s Toni Wells’s son.”
Charlie’s brows shot up. “Really? He looks like a street kid.”
“He has been for a few weeks now. Logan’s been trying to help him.”
“Doesn’t he realize what Toni would do to him if she found out? She’d make sure he lost his badge.”
“He didn’t know who Justin is. Logan is fairly new here, remember? Justin gave him a fake name. And even if he’d given his real last name—Kale, Toni’s maiden name—it wouldn’t have rung a bell with Logan.”
“Still. Toni’s going to be majorly ticked.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird, though, that she hasn’t reported Justin missing?”
Charlie considered that a moment. “Yeah, it is.”
“I think someone at home gave him those bruises. He’s afraid to tell us who. And no one’s reported him missing because they don’t want anyone to find out.”
“Toni wouldn’t—”
“My money’s on the senator.”
“Oh, man, Alex, we can’t go around making accusations. What if . . . wait.” Charlie’s brows shot up with realization. “Please tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking. Is your empathy back?”
Alex nodded. “This morning.”
“Damn.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know how much you—”
Alex cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ll figure out a way to cope, but we can talk about that later. Right now, I want to focus on finding out the truth about what happened to Justin. If we know it, then Logan, or someone from social services, might be able to get Justin to talk. Or Logan can take some detailed info to the senator and get him to fess up.”
“I don’t think jumping into that kid’s head is a good idea,” Charlie said. “I
really
don’t think it is.”
really
don’t think it is.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t deliberately used your ability to get information quickly.”
“I just don’t think . . . considering what just happened to you—”
“Like I told Logan, I’m fine.”
“Have I mentioned that you look like death warmed over? You’re not fine, Alex.”
“I’m a little tired. That’s it.”
“Well, I know from experience that you don’t mess with what we’ve got. It’s unpredictable.”
“You seem to have yours under control.”
“Do I? You apparently haven’t noticed that I haven’t touched you since Logan carried you out of that storage unit. I’m terrified of what happened to you.”
Alex realized how closely they were standing and backed away from her sister. Careless contact, and Charlie would . . .
Charlie nodded as though Alex had just confirmed a suspicion. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Alex frowned. “I never said it was a carnival ride.”
“Look, let’s make a deal,” Charlie said. “I’ll get up close and personal with Justin’s memories, and—”
“No! I don’t want you—”
“Well, I don’t want you to, either. And I’m fresh. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
“But—”
“You’re pushing it, Alex.” Charlie’s warning tone shut down her protest. “You need to let yourself acclimate. We don’t know the extent of your ability’s side effects. Besides, you might not even flash on what we need to know. You could end up way back in Justin’s past when what we need to know happened a couple of hours ago.”
“But I flash on the most recent traumatic event, too, and your flashes are so brief. What if you don’t—”
“What part of ‘I’m not letting you do this’ do you not get? The kid is mine.”
Alex felt her lips quirk into a humorless smile. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about who gets to head-trip the abused kid.”
“I imagine this won’t be the last time, either, considering your tendency to rescue every damn stray that crosses your path,” Charlie said with a faint scowl.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you saw Justin’s bruises. Whoever did that to him
has
to go down. We have the power to make that happen.”
has
to go down. We have the power to make that happen.”
“Power, Alex? You’re calling it a
power
now?”
power
now?”
“Ability. Curse. Whatever the hell it is. Don’t overanalyze my word choice.”
“Fine, but just remember it’s not as black-and-white as you think it is. Sometimes the consequences are too great.” Charlie’s intense gaze softened into concern. “Alex, seriously. Where do you draw the line? When does your need to take care of every wounded creature on this planet reach its limit? When it almost kills you? When it
does
kill you?”
does
kill you?”
“Now you’re just being melodramatic.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I suppose that’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. In the meantime, Justin’s mine.”
Alex gave what she hoped looked like an acquiescent shrug. “Okay. Whatever.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
L
ogan holstered his cell phone and sat back in the chair across from Noah’s desk with a heavy sigh.
ogan holstered his cell phone and sat back in the chair across from Noah’s desk with a heavy sigh.
“That good, huh?” Noah asked.
Logan massaged his temples, where a tension headache brewed like a tropical storm. He’d called Detective Don Walker to get the lowdown on where the Butch McGee investigation stood. “Don’s faxing over photos from the security cameras at the rental car counter and storage facility. Meanwhile, FBI’s on its way.”
“No shit?” Noah asked. “How come you don’t seem to mind the feds getting involved?”
“Because they know a shitload more about this guy than we do. Crime scene guys ran his DNA through the national database and got a bunch of hits. The fucker’s a serial killer.”
“Holy hell. How many has he killed?”
“Twenty-three that the feds know of. All across the U.S. Get this: The feds can’t pin down his MO. He doesn’t have a type. Young. Old. White. Black. Asian. Tall. Short. Fat. Skinny. You name it. They have only two things in common: They’re all women, and they’re all somewhat socially isolated.”
“Christ,” Noah breathed.
“He bounces all over the damn place, too, with no discernible pattern. They’ve been tracking him throughout the United States for years. The only link they have to all the murders is his DNA. He’s apparently not worried about getting caught. He spreads it around like he’s leaving presents for the feds. And that’s all they have. No photos, no sketches, nothing. They didn’t even have a name until now, let alone a decent picture from security cameras.”
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