The Perfect Murder (2 page)

"Let me get a notebook. Then I want you to tell me what's upset you so much."

The chair creaked as the woman settled into it. Rolls of flesh spilled over the wooden frame, but Jane didn't care about her excess weight. She'd once been heavy 13

herself. Maybe not quite to this degree, but definitely frumpy. If not for the counseling, daily workout sessions and self-defense classes that'd become her routine--all a product in one way or another of her friendship with Skye--she'd probably still be the disillusioned, overweight, hard-edged smoker she'd been four years ago.

Now she ran an hour a day, weighed a trim one hundred and ten pounds, and had stopped trying to kill herself with cigarettes. Only her smoker's voice remained. And the scars from that period of her life, of course. They'd never go away entirely--especially the ones on the inside.

"I'm here 'bout my two sisters," Gloria said. "They went missin' three weeks ago."

"Three
weeks
ago?" Jane echoed, unable to hide her shock.

Tears welled up again. "Three weeks ago las' Saturday."

It was Monday morning. That added another day, almost two.

"Why haven't I heard about this?"

"I don't know. There were articles in the paper. I reported it to the police the same afternoon it happened," she said, "but the detective who called me ain't found nothin' yet. He's been tryin', but...no one's got any idea where my sisters are an'...I'm so scared. That's why I'm here. I have to do somethin' more. I can't jus' sit around an' wait. I'm all they have. I'm all they ever had."

"Where're your parents?"

"We have different fathers, but none of 'em are any good," she said. "Our mother didn't hang with the best crowd, you hear what I'm sayin'? She died of a drug overdose when I was twenty-three. I was the oldest and had my own place, so I moved my sisters in with me. Latisha, the youngest, wasn't even in high school yet."

Jane could easily identify with being raised by another member of the family. Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was six, leaving her to be raised by an aging aunt who'd stayed single her entire life and had since died, as well. "Where do you live?"

"In a one-bedroom apartment on Marconi. We been there since they came to live with me. It's a small place, but we make it work. I won't uproot 'em again and again and again, like what my mama did to me."

"It's wonderful that you've been able to provide some stability," Jane said.

"How long ago did you assume responsibility for them?"

14

"It's been 'bout three years now. They eighteen and seventeen. They both graduated this last June," she stated proudly. "Marcie got her GED, but Latisha, she was put up a grade on account of she's so smart. She graduated with honors and won a scholarship to Sac State."

So the missing sisters were, for the most part, adults. That was probably why this case hadn't become a major focus for the media. That and the fact that there'd been nothing more to report. "Did you have an argument with them? Try to punish them? Anything that might've made them angry enough to leave?"

"We argue all the time, but that ain't what's wrong, Ms.--"

"Jane. You can call me Jane."

"They ain't never left before. They know I yell 'cause I want 'em to be more and have more than our mother. They gotta go to college. They keep tryin' to drop out so they can help me keep a roof over our heads. It's tough to earn a livin'

workin' at a convenience store. I put in a good sixty, seventy hours a week. But I got Marcie's tuition at ARC to pay for, in addition to all the other bills. They're what make it worth doin'--knowin' they'll have a better life if I keep goin'. I can't lose 'em." More tears streaked her bronze cheeks. "We been through too much. It can't end like this."

Already Jane feared she might be in over her head.
Be careful what you wish
for,
she silently chided herself. She'd been bugging Skye to let her start taking on her own cases, and Skye kept saying she wasn't ready. But if she didn't get involved now, Gloria would have to wait for Skye and Ava to return. Depending on what happened in South America, that could take a week to ten days, maybe longer. With the economy the way it was, donations were down by a significant margin. Skye and Ava needed to finish this job in order to keep the charity's doors open. That was the only reason Skye's husband had agreed to her going so far away. He was the one who'd insisted Ava go with her, since he couldn't take the time off work. They wouldn't be back until the woman who'd contracted them had her child back. And Sheridan, their other partner, was planning to spend the next three or four months at home with her new baby.

"Have you been in touch with all their friends?" Jane asked. "Do you have any other family in the area?"

"I talked to everybody. I been on the phone night an' day. Ain't nobody seen

'em."

"When's the last time you had contact?"

15

"That same Saturday. Latisha was sleepin' when I had Marcie take me to work. Latisha had to wait tables at noon and Marcie had to be at the Rancho Cordova Marriott at three. She's a maid." She leaned forward, as if taking Jane into her confidence. "I let 'em work part-time if they're keepin' up with their schoolwork and all." She rocked back. "Anyway, Latisha never showed up at the restaurant. I didn't know 'cause nobody called me. But when Marcie didn't go to work like she always does, the hotel wanted to know what was what. I tried her cell, but it kept goin' to voice mail."

"So you're thinking they disappeared from your apartment?"

"No. As soon as I could get someone to cover the store, I took the bus home and foun' the house jus' fine, locked up an' everythin'. But the car was gone. We have a little Honda Civic."

Jane made a note of this information. "Is there any chance your sisters could be into drugs, Gloria?"

"Oh, no! You think I'd let
that
happen after I watched my mama kill herself with that shit? After all I done to raise 'em up good? They wouldn't dare. They know I'd kick their asses clear to kingdom come."

Jane believed she would, too. "Where do you think they might've driven?"

Gloria's double chin wagged as she shook her head. "With the price of gas, they had no business goin' nowhere. We gotta pinch pennies jus' to survive. Mosta the time, we take the bus. But maybe Marcie decided to buy some doughnuts and a paper. She been talkin' 'bout gettin' a new job, a better one. That's my best guess, since the car was found near Hank's Donuts. Hank's is our favorite."

Jane quickly tried to assemble the scenario in her mind. Car abandoned; girls missing. Both sisters were going to school and working. They were also living in an environment that wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but it was very apparent that they were at least loved. What could've gone wrong?

"What condition was the car in? Did it have a flat, a breakdown?" she asked.

"That car has one problem after another. It ain't worth but a few hundred bucks. But the police found it parked on a residential street off Franklin Boulevard, a few blocks from the doughnut place, like I said. And it was runnin' jus' fine."

"Was there anything inside to indicate where your sisters had been that morning--some napkins from Hank's? A grocery sack? A Starbucks cup?"

"Jus' the books and stuff they leave in there all the time. I keep tellin' 'em not to leave their backpacks in the car. It don't even lock right. But sometimes they do.

16

You know what kids are like these days."

This woman was only in her twenties, but she acted a lot closer to Jane's forty-six. With so much responsibility thrust on her at such a young age, she probably
felt
at least forty. "What about cell phones? Have the police checked to see if they've been used since Latisha and Marcie disappeared?"

"Their phones were in the car." Covering her face, Gloria broke into sobs but spoke through them. "That's another way I knew they didn't walk off. They wouldn't leave their phones behind. We got no money for two extra cell phones but they'd rather go without food."

This wasn't sounding very hopeful. Jane forced a pleasant expression to cover her concern. "Do you have the phones? We'll need to check all incoming and outgoing calls. It's possible they know someone you didn't realize they know.

Maybe that person's seen them since you have."

"The police have the phones. A detective's goin' through their recent calls."

"Which detective is that?"

"They gave the case to a white guy named Willis. He a handsome man. But he wearin' a weddin' ring. I checked."

Jane might've been tempted to laugh at Gloria's aside, but she was too distracted by the name. "Did you say Willis?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did."

Too bad. Willis was Skye's husband. That would be tricky if Jane wanted to hide her involvement from her bosses, who wouldn't be happy to hear she'd dived in without permission.

On the other hand, having David on the case was fortuitous, too, since he was cooperative and sympathetic to what they were trying to accomplish at The Last Stand. Not all members of the department were friendly. They believed the mere existence of TLS sent a message to the community that the police weren't being effective. Some of the unflattering comments Skye, Ava and Sheridan occasionally made to the media didn't help. "Your husband's the cop, not you!"

someone had yelled at Skye a few weeks ago.

Jane wasn't a cop, either. She wasn't even a full caseworker. Not yet. But if she'd learned anything in the past six months it was that drive, determination and sheer hard work could make up for a lot in an investigation.

Gloria was explaining the situation in greater detail. Taking a deep breath, Jane refocused.

17

"I guess Detective Willis worked them cases down by the American River a few years back." She wiped her nose. "
Murders.
They think this might be related."

Jane felt her eyebrows slide up. If those cases were the ones that sprang immediately to
her
mind, this wasn't related. It couldn't be. Jane knew the perpetrator. She'd been living with him at the time. Oliver Burke was dead. But the memory of what he'd done in the years she'd been married to him still made her shudder. He'd been so good at compartmentalizing, at playing whatever part he needed to play in order to avoid detection. He'd fooled even her, right up until the end.

That was what she had to offer The Last Stand that none of the others could, she reminded herself. She knew how a psychopath thought, how he behaved, how manipulative he could be. Not only had she shared a decade of her life with Oliver, she had a child by him--and was nearly murdered by him, too.

"I'll give Detective Willis a call," she told Gloria. "I know him. He's a friend."

The chair groaned as Gloria shifted. "You don't think my sisters are dead, do you? I can't even imagine what I'd do if they was dead."

Jane wanted to promise that they weren't. But Latisha and Marcie had been gone for three weeks. They'd left their car and their cell phones behind, and there'd been no trace of them. What were the chances that they weren't lying lifeless in the woods somewhere? The only thing they had going for them was the fact that they'd been together. That was better than disappearing alone. Unless the worst had happened. Then Gloria would lose both sisters at once.

"We'll find them, one way or another," she said. "Can you get me some photographs?"

"I got 'em right here." She took several pictures from a large purse, as well as a crudely made flyer. "I been postin' that flyer everywhere I can."

Jane accepted these items, stared into the faces of the missing girls and felt a renewed sense of urgency as they became real to her. One had a distinctly darker complexion than the other, cornrows and a nose piercing. The name
Marcie
was written at the bottom. The other, Latisha, had almond-shaped eyes, a wide smile and an attractive bob. "Good idea," she said. "I'll do what I can from here."

"Thank you." Gloria dabbed at her wet cheeks. "I--I got no money, but I'll do whatever I--"

"Don't worry about fees," Jane hurried to interject, setting the pictures and 18

the flyer, which had the word
MISSING
written in large block letters across the top, on the edge of her desk. "Our services are free to those who need them."

Relief eased some of the tension in the other woman's bearing. "Hallelujah!

Thank you, God."

"I might require some insight or answers as we go along, however," Jane continued. "Can you give me your contact information?"

Gloria complied with an address, work number and cell phone number.

"What about their fathers, and your father?" Jane asked. "Can you tell me how to reach these men?"

"What would you want with
my
no-good father?"

"I'm just being thorough."

"I don't want him callin' me again." She sank lower in her seat. "But...I'll do anything if it'll help. His name's Timothy Huff. I don't have a number for him, but you can find him down at the pool hall on Florin Road most Fridays, drunker'n a skunk."

That was loose contact information indeed. "And Marcie's dad?"

"He call every once in a while from prison."

At least they could rule him out. "What's he in for?"

"Possession."

"That leaves Latisha's dad."

Gloria shook her head. "You don't wanna bother Luther Wilson. He got a'

anger management problem. We call him Lucifer, but we do it behind his back.

That's how bad he is."

"Does he know his daughter's missing?"

"I haven't told him," she said. "What's the use? He don' care 'bout her. He never has."

Jane dropped her pen and steepled her fingers. "How'd your mother meet these men?"

"Turnin' tricks."

"You're saying she was a prostitute?"

"She had to pay for her drugs somehow."

That explained a lot. "What's so scary about Lucifer--I mean, Luther?" she corrected.

"He was her pimp, and he beat the hell out of her."

Now Jane
knew
she was in over her head. She liked to believe a bottle of 19