Silent is the Grave Page 9

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  Ugh. Paperwork.

  Zander’s eyes burned as he saved the file on his computer. Only a few more forms to go.

  His phone rang.

  Distraction or not, he’d take it. He checked the caller ID.

  Betty.

  Maybe that meant Elly was ready to talk.

  “Hi Betty.”

  “Oh, Zander. I thought you’d want to know that Elly is better and willing to talk to you whenever you’re ready.”

  He was ready now. Especially since it meant getting away from this computer. “I’ll be right over.”

  Ending the call, he turned to Morgan. “I’m headed over to the center to talk to Elly. You coming?”

  After a second of silence, Morgan shook his head. “Nah. You go have fun, kid.”

  “Since when is interviewing a witness fun?”

  “Since she’s a cute redhead with similar passions who you should take out for drinks.” Morgan winked at him.

  Drinks. Somehow he had a hard time picturing Elly drinking.

  At least he hadn’t told Morgan about the milkshakes last night. That would really get him going.

  The drive to the center took longer than it should have, thanks to the beginning of rush hour traffic, but he finally pulled up in front. He nodded at a few of the kids hanging out on the front steps, but didn’t slow on his way inside.

  The main hall was empty.

  No voices from the living room. Too late for lunch but too early for dinner, so the dining room should be empty, too. A peek in the kitchen found it unoccupied.

  In the game room, a few kids played pool but no sign of Elly. Or Betty, for that matter.

  The office door was open. He poked his head inside to find Betty sitting at the desk, papers spread in front of her.

  “Hey Betty.”

  She started and glanced up. “Oh Zander. If you’re looking for Elly, I believe she’s in the back yard.”

  “Thanks.” That would have been his next stop, anyway.

  He reached the back door and looked through the reinforced glass.

  Sure enough. Elly sat at a picnic table in the shade with two boys and three girls, books open in front of them. The kids seemed to hang on whatever Elly was saying.

  Books? During summer break? How’d she get those kids to read, anyway?

  He pushed through the door and came closer.

  One of the boys saw him coming and waved but immediately turned back to Elly.

  “And then Jesus brought him back to life. Crazy, huh?”

  Whoa. A Bible story? Not only was she getting the kids to read, she was getting them to read the Bible?

  The woman must have some kind of magic. Or maybe she knew how to hypnotize people.

  She did have those funky purple eyes.

  “Was he really dead?” A heavy-set blonde girl asked.

  “Oh yeah. Three days.” Elly looked at the teen like she was the only person present. “But death doesn’t stop Jesus. He can do anything.”

  “Was he like a zombie or something?” One of the boys, a kid who looked to be maybe about thirteen or fourteen, asked with wide-eyes.

  “Or maybe a mummy. That’d be cool.” Another boy piped up.

  Elly laughed. “He wasn’t either one. He was just like he was before he died.”

  “How do you know?” the girl asked.

  “Because the Bible tells us. Plus, we see a few chapters later that he’s eating with Jesus and dead people don’t need to eat. In spite of what zombie movies tell us.” Pages rustled in her Bible as she turned and pointed something out to the kids. “See here? The leaders wanted to kill Lazarus too, because the miracle of his resurrection was causing people to follow Jesus. They wouldn’t need to kill him if he was already dead, right?”

  As the kids nodded, Zander forced himself not to shake his head. It was a nice story, but dead people didn’t suddenly come back to life. Nor did they talk to other people and tell them about Jesus.

  The grave was both silent and final.

  His job had taught him that firsthand.

  But religion could help keep these kids on the right track so if she wanted to fill their heads with crazy stories, he wasn’t going to stop her.

  He was, however, going to interrupt her. This kind of thing could go on for a while and he was on the clock.

  Stepping forward, he cleared his throat. “Elly? Can I steal you for a few minutes?”

  She turned to look at him, surprise evident in her eyes. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”

  Obviously. She’d been pretty engrossed in her story.

  How anyone could believe that kind of thing was beyond him.

  She turned back to the teens and closed the Bible. “How about if we pick this up again tomorrow? Maybe tonight you can read the next chapter?”

  The teens nodded with varying levels of enthusiasm.

  Weird. Forget hypnotism. She was a master of mind control. It was the only thing that made any sense.

  The kids cleared out and she slid off the bench.

  Gone was any sign of the fragile woman from earlier. Not only was Elly’s color good, her movements were steady and strong.

  It was like looking at a whole different woman.

  How could she change so drastically in just a few short hours?

  Not his business. He needed to focus on the matter at hand.

  Monica. And what she may have revealed to Elly earlier.

  “Why don’t we sit here?” He gestured to the bench she’d just risen from, even as he took the seat across from her.

  She eased down. “Betty told me you were here earlier. I’m sorry you had to make a trip back.”

  Well, since she’d brought it up. “You feeling okay? You really didn’t look well earlier.”

  “I’m fine, thank you. God always takes care of me.”

  Naturally. Had he really expected any other response?

  He pulled out his recorder and clicked it on, placing it on the table between them. After listing the pertinent details, he dove right in. “I understand Monica came to you specifically?”

  “Yes. I get the impression she’d been watching for me.” She shook her head slowly. “The poor girl was so weak. It must have been very hard for her to get here.”

  Weak? The girl who ran from the center so fast he didn’t get a glimpse of her? “She didn’t seem that weak to me.”

  “Getting a little food in her system helped a lot. Well, that and the fact that God healed her.”

  A healing, huh? Call the press and set up a monument.

  He kept the sarcasm from his words. “What was wrong with her?”

  “I don’t really know. She had the beginnings of some kind of bug. Maybe the flu. All I know is that God took it away and she’s okay for now.”

  If she said so. “So walk me through what happened.”

  “I was walking toward the center and was almost to the steps when I heard her call out. She was crossing the street–”

  “Could you tell where she came from?”

  “I didn’t see. The paper manufacturing plant was behind her, but I’m sure she wasn’t hanging out in there.”

  Not likely. “Okay. Then what?”

  “Well, she looked like she was about to collapse so I ran to her and helped her to the steps. She was shaking and feverish. When I told her I was going inside to get help, she begged me to stay with her.”

  “Why you?” He studied her. “You said you hardly knew her, so why would she come to you?”

  “She said Jessie trusted me. Really, I think she was desperate and didn’t know where else to go.”

  Made sense. Especially for a girl who was not used to trusting anyone. “So she comes to you…”

  “She was obviously not well. I asked her if she was sick and she said she didn’t know, then said she was hungry. So I prayed for her, God gave her strength, and we went inside so she could get something to eat. She was doing much better by the
time she finished.”

  Prayed.

  The word strobed through his mind.

  It was like last night all over again. Elly prayed, got sick, and miraculously recovered. All in the space of a few hours.

  “I could tell she was getting ready to run and asked her not to go, but she said she had to. She said no one could help her.” Elly paused. “But I don’t think she really believes that or she wouldn’t have come. She’ll be back.”

  She sounded so positive that he almost believed Monica would return.

  Maybe she would. If she got hungry enough.

  “Did she say anything else?”

  Elly thought for a moment. “No. She was silent while she ate and I didn’t bring up Jessie or what happened. I was waiting for her to talk about her, but she never did.”

  “Do you have any guesses what she wanted from you?”

  “Help. That’s all she said.” Elly shook her head slowly. “If only she’d stayed longer, maybe I could have found out what kind of help she needs.”

  A young teen on the streets? She probably needed a lot more help than Elly could provide.

  “Did she have anything with her? A bag or belongings?” Maybe Monica had left something behind.

  “She was empty-handed.”

  Naturally. “Did you notice anything that might give us an idea where to find her? Interesting smells, stains on her clothes, debris?”

  “No, but maybe she left her old clothes? I guess Betty gave her some clean clothes.”

  That was a dead end.

  He’d already checked that earlier, after Monica had run. She’d left nothing behind.

  “You still have my card?” At Elly’s nod, he continued, “If you see or hear from her, I want you to call me. Do not try to fix this on your own, okay?”

  “I won’t betray her trust.”

  He’d expected as much. “I’m not asking you to. Just convince her to trust me. I want to help her, too.”

  The silence felt heavy. After a few seconds, she sighed. “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises. I’m sorry.”

  Didn’t she get it? “If you’re with her, it’s not only Monica who might be in danger. This kind of trouble tends to bleed to anyone who’s around. Maybe you, maybe other kids, maybe even your brothers.”

  “I understand that, but Monica needs to know she can trust me. If she doesn’t want anyone else involved, I’ll honor that trust.”

  “Even at the risk of your life?”

  “God will protect me.” The calm on her face evidenced her belief that those words were true.

  Unfortunately he’d witnessed way too many people that God hadn’t protected to believe God would protect anyone.

  Eight

  Monica slowly chewed the last of the bread. Those three slices hadn’t lasted her long. Not even a day. And she was still hungry.

  Could she steal something?

  Or beg for money?

  One thing was certain. Sitting here alone in her haven wouldn’t fill her grumbling stomach.

  She edged toward the fence. After looking around, she slipped out and hurried down the alley.

  The street in front of her had few cars and even fewer people.

  She headed toward the busy road one block down, merging with the late afternoon foot traffic.

  A lot of familiar faces in the group tonight. The tatted guy on the corner was selling meth from his favorite chair outside the mini-mart. The cluster of girls further up were watching for Johns. The scrawny teen sauntering through the crowd was picking pockets as he went.

  Yes, all people she’d seen many times before.

  A familiar face snagged her attention. Her eyes locked with those of a man a good foot taller than her and twice her width.

  Fernando.

  She didn’t know his last name, but she knew him much better than she wanted. While she hadn’t seen him since before she left that horrible place, she could tell he recognized her.

  His lips tightened.

  She had to get out of here!

  Fernando advanced.

  Whirling, she raced through the crowd, dodging people she barely saw.

  Was he getting closer? She didn’t dare stop to look.

  Already her muscles quivered. Lack of food had made her weak but she had to keep going.

  She wouldn’t go back. She couldn’t.

  He’d kill her for sure.

  Memories flashed through her head faster than the buildings beside her. The girl who had tried to escape. The beating. All the blood.

  She still wasn’t sure if that girl had survived, but she’d never seen her again.

  That would be her fate – or worse – if Fernando got his hands on her.

  Why had she left her safe place?

  As much as she longed for it, she couldn’t go back now, not until she was sure she’d shaken him.

  She reached the corner and paused long enough to look back.

  Still there. And only half a block away!

  She whipped around the corner and sprinted down the block. Tears blurred her vision. Blinking sent streams down her cheeks.

  This was pointless.

  Fernando was taller than her and likely had more stamina for the chase. He’d catch her eventually. She was beating herself up for no reason.

  Maybe she should just give up now.

  A uniform registered in her peripheral.

  Two cops. Talking to a kid she knew ran drugs.

  Normally she’d avoid them. But right now, they just might be her salvation.

  She glanced behind her. Fernando was gaining.

  Adjusting course, she ran right at them. “Help!”

  One of the cops jerked his head toward her.

  She reached them a second later and pointed behind her.

  “Man… chasing…” Her words came out on fractured breaths. “Hurt…”

  The older police officer, a man about her father’s age, put a hand on her shoulder. Although there was nothing threatening in his touch, she couldn’t suppress a shudder.

  “Hey, you’re safe.” The officer’s deep voice contained a gruff edge.

  She looked back at Fernando, who had frozen midstride. After leveling a glare at her for a second, he spun and stalked down the block.

  “Hold up!” The younger officer hurried after him.

  Fernando ran, the officer in pursuit.

  Okay. Problem solved.

  Now to deal with the new problem she’d created. She had to get away from these cops before they asked too many questions.

  The older officer dropped his hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Monica.” Stupid! Why hadn’t she given him another name?

  “Monica. You said he hurt you?”

  More than she cared to admit. Too bad she didn’t still have the bruises to prove it. She nodded.

  Behind the cop, she saw the drug-running kid slink away. “Did… you still… need him?”

  The cop turned. “Stop. I’m not done with you yet.”

  It was now or never. Monica raced across the street. A horn blared and tires squealed as she narrowly avoided being hit.

  “Hey!” The officer’s voice rang out behind her.

  Well, he couldn’t stop both her and the drug-runner. She was willing to bet he’d focus on that other kid.

  Get back to her safe place. If only she could stay there forever.

  She cut through alley after alley until the right one came into view. Pausing at the opening, she glanced around. No sign of Fernando or the cops or anyone else she knew.

  She hurried toward the chain link fence and slid inside.

  After today’s close call, no point in taking any chances.

  She dug out the wire Jessie had often used to secure the opening and twisted it around like Jessie had shown her.

  Not fool proof, but it should be enough to keep outsiders away. Or at least make it harder for them to get in.

  “I saw her go this way.” A man’s voice, high and whiny,
echoed down the alley.

  Another person shushed him.

  Her. The word solidified the air in her lungs. They had to be talking about her, right?

  But she’d been so careful! Watching to make sure no one followed her, doubling back and cutting through traffic… all for nothing?

  She skittered backwards and slipped around the corner of the building.

  The pounding of her heart boomed in her ears and her gasping breaths echoed like shouting. No further voices or words reached her.

  What was going on? Were they still out there?

  She longed to look, but risk of discovery outweighed the desire to know.

  Rattle, rattle.

  Someone was shaking the fencing!

  They couldn’t get through, could they? After all, she’d secured the opening. And it was a small opening anyway, just right for her and Jessie. Surely not large enough for men.

  Murmuring drifted between the buildings.

  Her breath caught in her chest. She strained to listen.

  “…nowhere else she coulda gone,” Whiny voice said.

  More rattling.

  “Could’ve climbed over, I suppose. She’s a sneaky one.”

  Fernando! She’d know his horrible, grating voice anywhere.

  This was it. She was dead.

  The tears that had stopped moments ago attacked with fresh vigor. She pressed a hand over her mouth in case any rebellious sobs escaped.

  More murmuring. She held her breath.

  “…come back with wire cutters. Gonna make an example outta her.”

  Example.

  Ice coursed through her. She knew what that meant.

  Her death would be both slow and painful.

  “Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

  No! She couldn’t slip by someone right at the only entrance to her hiding place.

  Maybe she’d misunderstood.

  She risked a glance around the corner. A man in saggy jeans and an oversized black t-shirt leaned against the corner of the building.

  Trapped. She stepped away from the corner and sat in the comfort of the dilapidated gazebo.

  Bile burned her throat. Not only was her place no longer safe, it had become her prison.

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  Zander clicked off the recorder and pushed up from the table. “I think that covers it. If you see Monica, please try to convince her to come in, okay?”