Settling Scores (Piper Anderson Series) (13 page)

The following morning, in the haze of a hangover Willow sat in the passenger seat of Josh’s car as he drove to the police precinct. She’d barely spoken that morning and while she was trying to make it look like it was her way of being introspective, the truth was she was trying not to vomit.

They were escorted into a small room in the back of the precinct where Bobby and Piper were already sitting, looking concerned and impatient.

Willow didn’t let the dust settle before she was trying to make her point.  “I’m not convinced Josephine was doing what you said. Who would escape one horrible thing and then go right into something else?” Willow had a splitting headache and even though Betty’s words had resonated with her, she still felt fighting mad about the details. This was why she didn’t want to come to the cops. She didn’t feel like they’d put in the work. They’d just write these girls off. She wasn’t going to let that happen. As Betty had said, she owed it to them to find out more. That was outweighing her efforts to be kind to Bobby. There was just something about him that made her want to fight. Though she didn’t want to admit it she was starting to realize it was because he was usually right, which made her wrong.

“Denny has a lot of experience with sex trafficking cases as well as prostitution busts. He believes Josephine was out there working the streets by choice. Maybe it didn’t start that way, but in the end, she was there on her own free will. I’m sorry.” Bobby got to his feet, gestured for her to take his chair and leaned against the wall of the small office.

“How can you be sorry? You were right,” Willow snapped as she glared at Bobby. It was easier to be mad at Bobby than to admit the reality of the situation was as bleak as it was.

“I’m not trying to be right. I wish the news was different. Denny is going to come back in here to talk to you soon. He’s going to help.” It was clear from the strain on his face that Bobby was trying to refrain from snapping back at Willow. It was starting to make her feel guilty for turning him into her punching bag. But she couldn’t help herself.

“At least you have more people in your corner, Willow. Having a detective who focuses on cold cases in this area will be a huge help,” Josh said, attempting to break the tension.

A light knock on the door interrupted Willows rebuttal and she was grateful for it. “Hello everyone,” the musty smelling detective said as he stepped in the room, a notebook in his hand. “I’m Denny.” And just like that Willow formed an opinion of him. He was older, probably close to retirement age and that meant he was likely just skating by. He wasn’t going to put in the hard work or go the extra mile.

“Hey Denny,” Josh greeted him, extending his hand and introducing himself. “We appreciate the time you’re taking today. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”

“I thought we’d have you in here yesterday but I heard you two were busy in a bar brawl or something. And unfortunately, yes, I’m busy. There is no shortage of cold and unsolved cases here. But that’s also why I’m anxious to speak with you, Willow.” Denny settled in the seat across from her at the table and put on a warm and inviting smile. “It sounded like you were planning on chipping away at this stuff, all the things you remember. I’m going to help expedite that.”

“Why?” Willow asked, rolling her eyes as she took a seat. It was the mix of her hangover and skepticism that was creating the cocktail of bitchiness she was serving. She was afraid if she turned it off, if she stopped fighting so hard no one would listen to her. “You just want to rush through this and get me out of your hair?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but after twenty years on this job I don’t have much hair left.” He snorted out a laugh at his own joke. “And honestly,” Denny continued, pursing his lips together, and shifting to a more serious tone, “I don’t have time to have you guys coming in here every day for the next month asking me to check something out. Josephine’s case is closed. I can’t spend time or resources on stuff like that. I’d like to determine if you have anything useful and then act on it.”

“The information I gave you about Josephine wasn’t useful? My parents possibly took her. They sold her. You didn’t know that before yesterday.”

“I understand,” Denny replied disarmingly. “Let’s just move on to the next case and we can talk about Josephine later.”

“Fine,” Willow shrugged pulling her notes from her bag and ignoring the throbbing pain in her head.

“First, though, I’d like to know your goal here Willow? What do you want to happen?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Willow replied sharply. Why was everyone being such a dick to her about this stuff, she wondered. “I want to find them. They can’t all be dead. I want you to do police work and find them.”

“Okay,” Denny nodded, though Willow found the gesture hollow, an obvious effort to appease her. “Tell me about the next girl you remember.”

“She came after Josephine. I don’t know what month, but it was but it was the same year. Summer, I guess. It was hot and we didn’t have an air conditioner. I remember that. Her first name was Liz, that’s all she told me.” Willow’s eyes became glassed over as she let herself remember the whimper in the girl’s constant cry. She drifted for a moment and Josh’s voice called her back.

“Was she the same age as Josephine?” he asked, clearing his throat as he spoke.

“No,” Willow shook her head. “She was closer to my age at the time. Maybe eight. She was white, brown hair, brown eyes.”

“That’s good Willow,” Denny assured her as he turned toward an outdated computer in the corner of the room. “Do you remember anything else?”

“My mom wasn’t happy with her. Something was wrong. I think she was sick. My mom kept yelling at my dad about getting a sick one.” Willow blinked back a tear as she turned her eyes to the only empty corner of the room. She could feel everyone staring at her and she was afraid to connect with anyone in this painful moment.

“There are a couple girls here matching the description and time frame. Can you look at these pictures?” Denny asked, adjusting the computer monitor so she could see it. There it was again, for the second time in just two days. The haunting realization that her nightmares were real despite years of trying to convince herself they weren’t. The face of a girl she tried to forget was staring back at her.

“The one in the middle, that’s her.” Willow said quietly, pointing at the screen with one hand and wiping a rogue tear with the other. She felt Josh’s steady hand come down on her shaking shoulder.

“Elizabeth Club,” Denny said, pulling up her file on the computer. “Her case is closed as well.”

Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath conservatively optimistic that maybe this could have a happy ending. Perhaps the case closed because she was saved somehow.

Judging by Denny’s tone it wasn’t likely. “She was reported abducted from her front yard in Westville Heights on September seventh. Found dead in a dumpster two weeks later.” Denny continued scanning the file as an audible sigh of sadness rolled through the room.

“My parents might have killed her,” Willow suggested in a hushed voice that grew as she spoke. “I remember she was there one morning, looking kind of sickly and then gone that night.”

“They arrested a man for the crime. He’s in prison. Apparently she was diabetic and because it wasn’t treated properly, she slipped into a coma and died. He dumped the body and it was traced back to him through forensics.”

“But she was at my house. I can attest to that. My parents abducted her and sold her to this man. That’s important.”

“It’s information regarding the case, but I don’t know that it changes anything. You can’t put dead people on trial,” Denny said, twisting his eyebrows up in confusion as though Willow was asking for something ridiculous. “This case is closed. Elizabeth’s parents were notified and positively identified their daughter’s body. The man who dumped her was convicted and imprisoned. If your parents were a link in the chain that matters, but it doesn’t change what’s waiting at the end of it. A dead kid.”

“This is bullshit,” Willow huffed as she stood and then regretted the sudden movement that rocked her hung-over body. She was just so damn furious, and while she knew no one in this room was to blame, she couldn’t wrangle the beast that kept lashing out at everyone.

“Calm down,” Bobby insisted, strategically placing his body between her and the door. “I know this is frustrating, but we can’t change the facts.”

“There’s one more, right?” Denny asked, gesturing back to the chair. “You remember one more girl?”

“This is like a morbid lottery. Let’s buy another scratch ticket and hope it’s not a bust,” Willow snarled, as she fell heavily back into the chair. “I don’t even know if this is enough. I remember the least about the last girl. She came after Christmas, but I think it was before New Year’s. I think she was in her late teens. Her hair was dyed pitch black, with purple streaks. I’d never seen anything like it before. She had on dark, thick eyeliner and messy tattoos scrolled up her arms.” Willow couldn’t turn toward Bobby or Piper in this moment. She wasn’t sure if the spark of recognition lit in them at this description. It was a lot like what Willow looked like when they met her on Block Island earlier that year. She’d been channeling her past and this girl’s physical description had bubbled to the surface.

“The date will narrow it down quite a bit,” Denny said, rubbing at his temples and rolling a kink out of his neck as he began to type in his search.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Willow quaked showing her first real glimmer of any emotion besides anger. She picked nervously at her cuticles and chipping nail polish as she braced herself for more. “I figured this would take longer. I expected it to be more of a…” she trailed off and Piper cut in.

“A journey?”

“A pain in the ass,” Willow grunted, regaining her angry footing. “I didn’t think it was possible to find them so quickly.” Realistically, Willow understood she needed more time to process this. Having it come together all at once was too much. She was hoping everyone could read between the lines since she didn’t have the courage to admit it.

“I’ve got eleven hits,” Denny reported after a few moments, scrolling through the information. “The database has come a long way over the years. Having the timeframe is the best way to narrow down the results. That coupled with the physical description gets us this.” Denny turned the computer monitor again and Willow braced herself as though the walls were tumbling in.

“That one,” Willow said confidently, amazed that all three faces that had haunted her dreams now had names. “That’s her,” she reiterated, the unforgettable eyes rimmed in black eyeliner were unmistakable.

Denny quickly turned the computer back toward him and keyed in more information. “This case is closed too,” Denny hummed as he typed feverishly. “But the good news is she’s alive. Her name is Cleo Swan. She was listed as a runaway, not abducted.”

“Where is she now?” Josh asked straightening his back as though everything hinged on this being good news.

“Jail. She was arrested for attempted murder. Looks like she robbed a convenience store a couple years back and fired some shots in the vicinity of the clerk. No one was hurt but she was handed down a harsh sentence. She’ll be in there at least another ten years.”

“I don’t understand how she went from being chained up and sold to running around robbing and shooting at people. What happens from point A to point B?” Piper asked, her brows furrowed in frustration.

“It happens. These girls become obsolete in the trafficking industry when they hit a certain age. It’s all they know and many choose to stay in the life in one way or another,” Denny explained. “All I know is this is another closed case.”

“So that’s it,” Willow stammered, feeling like the world was caving in on her. “You’re not interested in connecting the dots? My parents were criminals. They took girls. They kept them. They sold them. You’re not even trying to dig into that.”

“Willow,” Bobby empathized in a gentle voice that was lost on her, “Denny’s doing his job. His job is to investigate open and unsolved cases. Nothing we’ve brought him so far falls in that category.”

“While I was out bouncing from one foster house to the next I’m sure there were more girls. I’m positive they’d been doing this for years. Think about how many cases that might be. The girls can’t all be dead or in prison. But you’re not even going to look any further.” Willow slammed her hand down on the metal table in front of her and refused to let the tears form in her eyes. That would undermine her argument.

“You can’t put dead people on trial,” Denny thundered out again. “You’re brother already doled out your parents’ punishment and, in my humble opinion, he got it right. These girls, they don’t have family waiting around for closure. There is nothing else to do for them. Could we fill in some blanks in a timeline? Sure. What does that get us? Nothing.”

“It could lead to other cases, other girls,” Piper interjected, and Willow felt relieved to have a supporter.

“It could, but I already have a room full of case files with active missing persons, murders, and various other crimes. My department has six detectives and over two hundred cold cases. We can’t use our resources to go look for other cold cases that might not even exist. If you link any other girls to your parents, we’ll explore the information and if it connects to an open case I can assure you you’ll have the full gamut of my department’s resources. Other than that, I can’t offer you any manpower.” The finality in Denny’s expression lightened a bit as he continued. “However, the department has a very good counselor on staff that would be happy to meet with you. I think it could be beneficial for you to talk to someone about your experience. It sounds like you could use some closure.”