The Innocent (17 page)

J
ULIE CLAMBERED UP
the vine and slipped inside her bedroom window. She squatted on the floor listening. All she could hear were her own heartbeats. Her legs shaky, she moved down the stairs, holding on to the wall for support. She rounded the bend, closed her eyes, and then opened them.

It was all she could do not to scream.

Robie stared back at her.

“You get around,” he said.

She looked quickly around the room. There was nothing there except furniture.

“Expecting to find something else?” he said, moving toward her.

She backed up a step.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

“Followed you.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible really. This is your home, right?”

She said nothing, just stared up at him, more in curiosity than fear.

He looked at a picture on a side table. “Your mom and dad were nice-looking. And there you are right in the center. Happy times, it seems.”

“You don’t know anything,” snapped Julie.

“Correction, I know
some
things. Like you’re in danger. People are looking for you. People who have a lot of money, muscle, and connections.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because they covered up two murders right here.”

Julie’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

Robie motioned to the wall next to where she stood. “Fresh paint. But only in that spot. It was put there to cover something up.” He pointed to the floor. “Used to be a square of carpet here. You can see where the wood is lighter. It’s gone. Again, covering something up.”

“How do you know it’s about a murder? It could be anything.”

“No, not anything. You paint walls and remove rugs to take away forensics. Blood, tissue, other bodily fluids. And they missed a spot of blood on the baseboard over there. Did you expect to find their bodies here? There would have been a smell by now, you know. An unmistakable one.”

“You spend a lot of time around dead bodies?” she said warily.

“Ever since I hooked up with you.”

“We’re not hooked up in any way at all.”

“I know about your foster parents, though calling them ‘parents’ stretches all credulity.”

“I don’t like that you’ve been snooping around my life,” she exclaimed.

“The city busted them,” he said. “The other kids there have been taken away by now. I think you had something to do with that.”

Julie’s angry look faded. “They didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No little kid does.”

“Now tell me what happened here.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, I want to help you.”

“Why?”

“Call me a Good Samaritan.”

“There aren’t any of those left,” she said firmly.

“Not even your parents?”

“You leave my parents out of this,” she said sharply.

“Did you see how they died? Is that why you were on the run?”

Julie backed up until she was against the wall. For a moment Robie thought she was going to run for it. And he wasn’t sure what he would do if she did.

“Were they mixed up in something over their heads?” he asked. “Drugs?”

“My mom and dad wouldn’t hurt anyone. And no, this had nothing to do with drugs.”

“So they were killed? Just a simple nod will do.”

She moved her head forward a notch.

“You saw that happen?”

Another nod.

“Then you need to go to the police.”

“If I go to the police they’ll put me right back in foster care. And then those people will find me.”

“The guy on the bus, he was the one?”

“I think so.”

“Julie, tell me exactly what happened. It’s the only way I can help you. If last night showed you nothing else, it’s that I’m someone who can get things done.”

“What about those people on the TV. Did you kill them? A mom and her kid? You said you didn’t do it, but I need to know the truth.”

“Well, if I did kill them there’s no way in the world I would admit it. But if I did do it why would I be here trying to help you? Give me a reason.”

She let out a long breath, played with the straps on her backpack. “Do you swear you didn’t kill them?”

“I swear I didn’t kill them. I’m working with the FBI right now to try and figure out who did.” He pulled out his badge and showed it to her.

Julie said, “Okay. I guess it’s cool. I got away from the Dixons and came here last night. I hadn’t been home very long when I heard someone come in. I thought it was my parents, but someone else was with them. He was yelling at them. Asking them stuff.”

Robie drew a few steps closer. “Asking them what? Try to be as precise as you can.”

Julie screwed up her face, thinking. “He said, ‘How much do you know? What have you been told,’ stuff like that. And then, and then…”

“He hurt one of them?”

Tears trickled down her face. “I heard a gunshot. I ran down the stairs. The guy looked at me. My dad was against the wall over there. He was all bloody. The guy pointed the gun at me, but my mom hit him and he fell down. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and help her. But she told me to run.”

Julie shut her eyes, but the tears eased out from under her eyelids. “I went back to my bedroom and climbed out the window. Then I heard another shot. And I ran hard. I was a coward. I knew that shot meant my mom was dead. But I just ran. I was a shit. I just left her to die.”

She opened her eyes and stiffened when she saw Robie standing next to her.

“And if you hadn’t run, you’d be dead,” he said. “And that would have done no one any good. Your mom saved your life. She sacrificed her life for yours. So you did the right thing, because you did what your mom wanted you to do. Stay alive.”

Robie handed her a tissue from a box on the table and she dried her tears and then blew her nose.

“So what now?” she asked.

“Do you think anyone around here heard the shots?”

“I doubt it. The place next door is empty. So is the duplex across the street. This used to be an okay neighborhood, but then everybody lost their jobs.”

“Including your parents?”

“They worked at whatever they could find. My mom went to college,” she added proudly. “My dad was a good guy.” She looked down. “He just sometimes got down on himself. Felt like the whole world was against him.”

“What were their names?”

“Curtis and Sara Getty.”

“No relation to the Getty Oil folks, I guess?”

“If so, nobody ever told us.”

He said, “Okay, here’s my plan. We find out who killed your parents and why.”

“But if it was the guy on the bus he’s clearly dead.”

“Did you leave from this house last night and go directly to the bus stop?”

“Yes.”

“Then the guy wasn’t alone. He couldn’t have policed this place, gotten rid of two bodies, and made it to the bus. There have to be others.”

“But why my parents? I loved them, but it’s not like they were important or anything.”

“You sure they weren’t involved in drug dealing or gangs or anything?”

“Look, if they were drug kingpins do you think they’d be living in this place?”

“So no enemies?”

“No. At least not that I know of.”

“Where did they work?”

“Dad at a warehouse in southeast. Mom at a diner a few blocks from here.”

“So your dad would go over there for meals maybe?”

“Yeah. I spent a lot of time at the diner too. Why?”

“Just digging for info.”

“I want to leave here. Like right now. This isn’t my home anymore.”

“Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“I got a place I’m staying.”

“Yeah, I tracked you down there. And it was stupid to steal and use Dixon’s credit card. They’ll bust you for that. And more importantly, people can track you.”

“How did you—” She stopped and looked annoyed. “I have cash.”

“Save it for now.”

“So where do I go? Not back to your safe house. It’s too far out of town.”

“No, I’ve got another place. Why don’t you pack some things and come on.”

R
OBIE WAITED UNTIL
well after dark. They spent the time in between getting something to eat at a mom-and-pop restaurant on H Street. Robie asked more questions of the young woman, gently probing. She pushed back. She would make a good cop, Robie thought. Her tendency to give away as little as possible was remarkable, particularly for a generation that routinely posted the most intimate details about themselves on Facebook.

Robie drove Julie to his neighborhood in Rock Creek Park. Only he didn’t take her to his building but to the observation post across the street. Like the farmhouse, no one other than Robie knew about it.

They walked in, he turned off the alarm system, and she looked around.

“This is your place?”

“Sort of,” he said.

“Are you rich?”

“No.”

“You seem rich to me.”

“Why?”

“You have a car and two homes. That’s pretty rich. Especially these days.”

“I guess it is.” He actually had another home right across the street, but she didn’t need to know that.

He showed her how to use the alarm system and then let her look around. She picked out her bedroom from the two there. She dropped her backpack and a second bag she’d packed before leaving her house on the bed and continued to wander around the apartment.

“What’s the telescope for?” she asked.

“Stargazing.”

“That’s not an astronomical telescope. And there’s not really an angle here to point it skyward.”

“You know about telescopes?”

“I do go to school, you know.”

“I like to watch things,” he said. “Especially to see if people are watching me.”

“So are we going to be, like, staying here together?” She looked nervous by this prospect.

“No. I’m staying somewhere else. But it’s close by.”

“So you have three places?” she said incredulously. “What do you do for a living? I think I want to do it too.”

“You should have everything you need.” He took a cell phone out of his pocket. “This is for you. It’s got my number loaded on speed dial. It’s untraceable, so feel free to use it anytime.”

“How far away will you be?”

“I thought you were nervous that we were going to be staying here together.”

“Look, I know you’re not some creep who gets off on underage girls, okay?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve had to deal with those sorts of jerks before. I know what to look for. You don’t have the signs.”

“Did you learn that in foster care?” he asked quietly.

She didn’t answer him. And Robie thought about Gerald Dixon and wondered if he should have just shot the prick when he had the chance.

“You should have everything you need,” he said. “I stocked up the kitchen last week. Anything else, give me a call.”

“What about school?”

This caught Robie off guard.

Shows what a great parent I’d make.

“Where do you go to school?” he asked.

“At a G and T program in northeast D.C.”

“G and T? That’s a cocktail.”

“Not gin and tonic. Gifted and talented.”

“You’re fourteen, so you’re in ninth grade?”

“Tenth.”

“How so?”

“I skipped a grade.”

“Pretty smart, then.”

“In some things. In other things I can be pretty stupid.”

“Like what.”

“I don’t like highlighting my weaknesses.”

“Considering what happened to your parents, I’m not sure I want you going back to school. Whoever killed them will know where you go. Or it’ll be easy enough to find out.”

“I can use the cell phone to text my program coordinator and feed her some bullshit.”

“You think you’re smarter than all adults?”

“No. But I’m smart enough to know how to lie and make it sound like the truth.” She looked at him closely. “I think you’re probably really good at that too.”

“The foster care people will be looking for you.”

“I know. Won’t be the first time. They’ll go to my parents’ house. They’ll think they skipped town and took me with them. Then they’ll go to the school, find out I texted my coordinator, assume I’m okay, and that’ll be a dead end. They’ve got too many kids in the pipeline a lot worse off to spend any more time on me.”

“Thinking several moves ahead. That’s good. You play chess?”

“I play life.”

“I get that.”

“So how close will you be?” she asked again.

“Pretty close.”

“I’m not just going to sit in this place and do nothing. I’m going to help you find the people who got my parents killed.”

“You can leave that to me.”

“Screw that! If you don’t let me help, I won’t be here when you come back.”

Robie sat down in a chair and stared at her. “Let’s get something really straight. You’re a smart kid. You know the streets. But the
people who are after you are at a whole different level. They will kill anyone who gets in their way.”

“Sounds like you know the type real well,” she shot back.

When Robie said nothing, she said, “The guy on the bus? The way you got us away from the dude in the alley? The way you analyzed the crime scene at my parents’ house? The way you tracked me down? And you said you were working with the FBI. You’re not just some guy in a cubicle working nine to five. You’ve got safe houses and guns and untraceable phones and telescopes pointed at who knows what.” She paused and then added, “You kill people too, I bet.”