Molly Brown (13 page)

She didn’t look convinced. I
n fact, if anything, she looked more vacant than when they’d first met, as if she’d flipped a switch inside, a disconnect button that meant, regardless of what might happen next, she didn’t have to deal with it.

He thought of Joe, how that little guy’s
face was a window to his soul, how every expression, every smile, frown, giggle and pout was ingrained deep in Connell’s own being. He knew Joe like an extension to himself. The idea that Molly had shut herself off from that kind of human sharing was heartbreaking.

He stood and stepped out into the alley
, drawing her gently with him. Cocking his head he smiled at her. “See, there’s no one out here but you and me.”

He s
at her in the back of the car and did up her seat belt, and throughout she maintained her blank expression, staring straight ahead, her hands clinging tightly onto her books as if her life depended on them. Connell sighed. He didn’t know what else to do or say. He thought perhaps it was all beyond him, that maybe he should just hand her over to people who were trained to deal with damaged kids. But when he got behind the wheel and glanced in the mirror, he caught her watching him and saw the tiniest glimmer of something that looked almost like hope.

He grinned at her.
“Come on, kiddo. It’s time you and me hit the road.”

Chapter Fourteen

“So who’s your friend?”

Marty leaned against the hood of his car, arms folded across his chest. He s
hot Connell an incredulous look as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d turned up to a stakeout with a kid in tow. He dropped his gaze to the child. She held tight to Connell’s hand and stared straight at him in an unblinking, ‘see right through you’, way that was quite unnerving to the uninitiated.

“This is Molly.” Connell hunkered down next to her and gestured with his free hand. “Hey, Molly
, this is a good friend of mine, Marty. He’s got a little girl just about your age.” He glanced at Marty with a raised a brow. “Isn’t that right, Marty?”

Marty took the bait and smiled. “Sure, Molly, you’d like Bella
. She’s just turned nine and she sure does rule the roost. How about you, Molly? What do you like doing?”

Molly looked at her feet, studied the ground intently and Marty shrugged at Connell.

“Molly’s just going to sit in the car awhile and maybe draw some pictures while we check out some stuff.” Connell opened the rear door and settled her in the back with her carton of pens. She let go of his hand reluctantly.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here where you can see me.” He closed the door gently and stepped away from the car.

“Tommy, what in the name of God are you doing?” Marty hissed.

“I had to pick her up. C
ouldn’t leave her any longer.”

“And you couldn’t drop her off at Children’s Services?”

“You kidding me? Those guys are a joke.” Connell shot a quick glance at the car and stepped further away. Leaning against the warehouse wall he kept one eye on Molly sitting crouched in the back. “Marty, this kid is mixed up in this in ways you couldn’t imagine. I need to get her to talk to me before someone less kindly steps in and takes this out of my hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“She knows about the murders.”

“Is that why she’s hiding?”

Connell raised a brow. “You’d think so, but you know what, I’m not so sure. There’s something weird going on. I just need to work it out and I need Molly to help me do that.”

“So what are you
going to do with her?”

“Keep her safe.”

“You think bringing her here is keeping her safe?”

Connell sh
rugged. “I didn’t have a choice. As soon as we’re done, I’ll head back to the farm. Maybe Lizzie can get something out of her.”

“What’s she said so far?”

Connell settled his gaze on the car. “Absolutely zilch.”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets
, Marty sighed and gave Connell a weary, long-suffering look. “So you’re no further forward. You’ve still got Frankie on your case, a serial killer on your tail and now you’ve got a kid in tow.”

Connell grinned. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And Gerry, does he know about the latest developments, about you blowing up downtown?”

Connell’s
grin widened further. “Maybe. My phone’s been going ballistic on the ride down here.”

“He’s
going to be mad.”

“I can handle Gerry.”

Marty grimaced. “Remember what I told you, Tommy. The rules have changed. You need to keep Gerry on-side.”

“Gerry needs to keep
me on-side.”

“Huh?”

“He’s keeping things close again.”

Marty snorted. “Well
, that makes two of you who are both real good at that, Tommy. You know, if you spent less time sneaking about and trying to outdo each other, you’d maybe get the job done and be able to go home.”

Connell shrugged, his attention distracted by the sound of a truck pulling onto the lot. He sidestepped to the corner of the building and chanced a quick look. “Okay
, show time. Let’s just see what good old Frankie’s been shipping and then maybe we can all go home.”

“What about the kid?”

Connell gave a swift glance over his shoulder. She sat with her nose pressed against the glass. His heart sank. She had that look on her face, the one Lizzie wore when she knew he was stringing her a line. He’d promised Molly he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wouldn’t leave her, and at the first opportunity he was letting her down. Shit. It was becoming a habit. He needed her to trust him but he also needed to find out what was going on. “Okay, you stay here, Marty. Keep an eye on her and watch my back. I’m going for a closer look. I’ll be five minutes, tops.”

“Tommy
...”

Connell spread his arms in exasperation at Marty’s obvious reluctance. “Come on, Marty, you’re a good babysitter.”

“That’s not what’s bothering me, Tommy. I get stuck here holding the kid. How am I going to watch your back?”

Connell grinned. “You worry too much. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Slipping around the corner, he ran across the open ground between the warehouse and its adjacent plant room. The ground was littered with industrial detritus, broken pallets, and dented oil drums left to rust and leak their pollutants amongst the weeds. There was enough broken glass to set up a recycling plant and among it all wild flowers struggled valiantly for existence. Connell dodged behind the rusted shell of a burned out car and paused to catch his breath. The vast doors to the interior of the warehouse had been closed behind the truck, though that was of no concern to Connell as he sprinted the last few yards and flattened himself against the wall inching along it, attempting to keep in the shadows until he found an opening in the flimsy structure where he could squeeze through.

He took a moment to adjust to the dappled light inside the building, squinting at the scene of frantic activity before him. Two men had opened the rear doors of the truck and a third lowered the tail gate. Connell edged forward
, taking care to remain concealed between the machinery and pipe work. A small fork lift truck began unloading pallets stacked high with boxes, transferring them to a number of smaller vehicles. Connell cocked his head, a little disappointed. Was that it, non-taxed liquor being run? It seemed a big fuss over nothing and certainly not worth the attentions of Frankie and his henchmen. Okay, so Frankie might be fond of the occasional cocktail, but Connell didn’t believe he was so partial to vodka that he needed to ship it in by the truck load.

He glanced around him, unclear why Frankie was offloading his illicit booze in a deserted warehouse. Frankie owned real estate all over the city. What was so special about this place? Something didn’t add up. He needed a closer look.

He was limited in that there was little cover between where he was and where he needed to be. He considered a variety of equally reckless ventures which included knocking out one of the guys unloading and taking their place. In principle it sounded feasible, in reality he had about as much chance of success as he had of Gerry picking up the tab for his car.

They were all carrying guns
, and as his had been consigned to gun heaven along with his car, he was at a considerable disadvantage. He was about ready to give it up as a bad job and seek his information from the horse’s mouth, aka Frankie, when he spotted a young guy who he recognized and a sly grin settled on his face.

He settled back and watched as Terry shifted boxes from the pallets into the smaller of the vans. He was working up a sweat and Connell was glad he wasn’t downwind of him. His grin widened further when Terry took a detour and stashed a couple of boxes out of sight. Connell shook his head. Terry was playing a dangerous game if he thought he could pull a fast one on Frankie.

He shifted his gaze back to the truck. The unloading was going to take some time, time he didn’t have. He knew where he could find Terry and he knew where to find Frankie; between the two he thought he could probably find out what was going on. It wasn’t really necessary for him to hang around any longer. He turned ready to leave when his attention was drawn back to the scene by raised voices.

The forklift had ground to a halt and there was some altercation under way regarding its placement in relation to the truck. Perhaps it was blocking the way or maybe the truck driver was on a tight schedule and needed to go dump more illegal hooch elsewhere. As the men squared up to faceoff, the guys unloading returned to their vehicles and settled back to watch. With all eyes on the argument at center stage
, it would have been relatively easy to miss the movement at the front of the truck, but Connell, who was well used to surveillance, quickly dismissed the male posturing and zeroed in on what appeared to be the opening of trapdoor beneath the huge truck’s sub-frame.

He watched as
, one by one, figures wriggled their way from under the truck. Casting furtive glances in the direction of the truckers, the human cargo flattened themselves against the truck side and waited. Connell flicked his gaze between the group and Frankie’s men. If they were illegals who’d hitched a ride, then they’d chosen the wrong truck. If, as more likely, they were Frankie’s latest illicit cargo, they were in even more trouble. He cast his mind back to his last brush with the people trafficking business. Vincent Sawyer, the king pin of the industry, was dead, killed in an explosion. Maybe Frankie had decided to fill the vacancy. It would explain his desire for Connell to stay out of the picture and probably well worth the money he’d been willing to pay to buy him off. All the same, it added another dimension to an already complex case. Connell gave a sour smile. He’d been about ready to take Marty’s advice and go home. Now he was torn between doing what he wanted and doing the right thing.

With a muttered curse he pulled out his cell phone and punched out Gerry’s number.

“Godammit!”

Connell pulled the phone away from his ear while Gerry ranted
, and when the diatribe finally quelled, he pulled it back.

“Hi, Gerry, how are you?”

“Don’t play games with me, Tommy. I’ve been calling you repeatedly. What happened downtown? I’ve had the Fire Department giving me grief. I’ve had my boss yelling in my ear. I’m about done with covering your back.”

Connell ignored him. Gerry’s outrage was old news and came with the territory. “So, did you get me the information I asked you for?” he murmured, aware that if the guys playing
‘my dick’s bigger than yours’ decided to straighten out their disagreement, they might just cast an eye in his direction.

“Did you listen to a word I just said?”

“Sure, I did, Gerry, but for the moment I need you to listen to me.” Connell suppressed a grin at the answering silence. Gerry was well and truly pissed.

“Did you get me the info on the murders, the addresses?”

“Yes,” came, Gerry’s short reply.

“Okay, text me the details and I’ll go through them as soon as I can.”

“As soon as you can? What are you saying, Tommy? I’ve been chasing around after you and you’re too busy now to look at what I’ve got.”

“Yeah, kind of, Gerry. I’ve got something else for you to chase after.” He paused to check that the situation at the rear of the truck hadn’t altered. “It seems our man Frankie has got himself mixed up in a little freight business. I’m looking at a big truck and lots of vodka.”

“Big deal, Tommy.”

“And that same truck ha
s got a real leakage problem. People are just spilling out of it.”

“People?”

“Yeah, people.” He edged forward for a closer look. “Eastern European female people, if I’m not mistaken. It seems Frankie has expanded his business.” Now that he knew he had Gerry’s attention, he waited while Gerry processed and considered.

“You think he’s stepped into Sawyer’s shoes?”

“Well, I guess somebody had to. It’s a lucrative business and Frankie is in the business of making money.”

“Okay, where are you? I’ll send men down there.”

Connell hesitated. Wouldn’t that be the answer to his current problems, Gerry sending someone else to fix the mess so he could go home? But things were never that simple.

“I don’t know, Gerry. It might be better to follow the cargo, see where Frankie is stashing these girls. I doubt this is the first delivery. Maybe we can catch Frankie with more than his hands in the ti
ll. He’s a clever little shit. If we’re going to get him we need to do it right.”

“That sounds like the old Tommy talking. Do I sense some regret at your decision to hand in your badge?”

“Never, Gerry. As soon as this case is tied up I’m out of here for good.”

“Sure
, Tommy. You keep telling yourself that.”

Connell heard the humor in Gerry’s response. He’d be laughing on the other side of his face when he did eventually sever his working relationship. Maybe it was time he tried sidestepping the line he was constantly accused of crossing. He’d have to be quick to get in a little property deal with Frankie before the guy got caught up in his own net.

He swung his gaze back to the scene within the warehouse. Things were getting complicated. He needed to take a step back and re-evaluate his position.

“Are you still there, Tommy?” Gerry’s voice dragged him back and he stared a moment at the phone.