Revealing Silver Page 7

  Remy kicked out at Leftie, who was trying to make another play for her. Her heel landed squarely in his balls this time. His fall from grace now was a hell of a lot louder than his first one.

  “You got an audience now.” She jerked her chin at the people congregating on the walk behind them. “You want your streets to see the three of you get taken down by a girl?”

  She hated the fucking gender card, but the best way to end this was to play on their pride.

  The leader glanced around without trying to look obvious about it. Though his upper lip curled into a snarl, he pocketed his blade and took a step back.

  “You’re not worth the fucking time.” He spat at the ground in front of her. “Be careful, bitch. Next time, you won’t get no warning.”

  She stood her ground as he gestured for his friends to follow him back to their side of the street. The third had to help Leftie to his feet, supporting his weight as he continued to cup his crotch. Blood trickled down the back of her calf, but she didn’t move until the road was clear, retreating the last few feet to the sidewalk. Rather than give him the pleasure of checking it out, she turned on her heel, hurrying away from the warehouse, back to the 7-Eleven and its public bathroom. Scoping out any more of the building was out of the question. She wouldn’t be surprised if the trio kept an eye on it, waiting for her to come back. Plus, leaving blood evidence behind was out of the question. She wasn’t in the system, and she hadn’t been when she’d first met Nathan ten years from now. She had to do everything necessary to keep it that way.

  Chapter Six

  Contrary to Nathan’s opinion, the world didn’t stop turning because Remy wasn’t there. If Olivia needed to be reminded of that fact, there was a huge stack of files and dozens of voicemails waiting for her when she returned the day after Christmas. The Cold Cases department buzzed around her, low conversations, telephones ringing, music pouring from computer speakers creating a familiar and strangely soothing chorus. In that space, Remy didn’t exist, her life and her disappearance going unrecorded, unnoticed. There, she ceased to be Nathan’s lover and Isaac’s uneasy ally, becoming instead a grim specter in Olivia’s mind of all the young women and men who’d never been found. Who couldn’t be found. What she’d seen of Remy was no more than a last-seen report. She was last seen at a motel in Los Angeles. She was last seen in 2000. She was last seen alone.

  Olivia pulled the stack of files from her top drawer, each one with grisly photos and fractured stories that fit together like poorly cut puzzle pieces. How did Dominique Jackson die? Was she dead, or was she one of the very few disappearances that didn’t indicate murder? What happened to Candi Drake after her father took her from her preschool? Did he carry her away to start a new life, or was the mentally unstable man guilty of more than kidnapping? What about Sean Roberts, whose bloody bag was found near his abandoned motorcycle two mornings after he disappeared ten years ago? Or Lola Fry, who called her sister the night before Thanksgiving to say she thought her boyfriend was following her, and was never heard from again? None of them were alive. Olivia didn’t need to be psychic to know that. So very, very few of her cases were about rescuing victims. That was why Stacy Montenegro and her fellow abductees had been so urgent. She’d allowed a part of herself to believe that for once, everybody would get to live. Just this one time.

  Why couldn’t she be given visions of these poor souls? Why couldn’t she use this strange magic to bring peace to broken families and justice to the ones who ripped them away? It hardly seemed fair to be given visions she could do nothing with. If there was some sort of greater force overseeing these sorts of things, then he or she mucked things up. She didn’t need to have fully specific visions. She would be happy with glimpses and impressions, clues and half-epiphanies, even vaguely helpful dreams. But except for leading them to Gabriel’s house in San Dimas and assuring them all Remy was still alive, if inaccessible, the magic was completely unhelpful.

  Magic. She snorted. Soon she’d be calling herself a psychic and believing in all sorts of ridiculous woo-woo. Magic. The power to see through space and time, and the only truly clear images she could still recall were a temple in the jungle and Isaac’s old girlfriend reporting the murder of three Japanese businessmen on Sunset. Olivia didn’t remember anything about that particular case, but she did remember watching Diane Crowley on the KTLA News before she left for CNN. It was petty to be jealous of her now, ten years later, especially given the circumstances, but that revelation coupled with the fact Isaac had apparently been eager to get in Remy’s pants as soon as he met her left Olivia feeling annoyed. Unsettled. Everything left her feeling unsettled these days. Nothing made sense.

  The murdered businessmen was a strange case, though. They could have been the random victims of gang violence, tragically cut down on the strange side of the planet because they’d been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. If she had the time, she’d pull the file and see how that case ended, but she needed to go over about a dozen reports from the forensics lab, make a list of possible witnesses to interview for the three more pressing cases on her desk, and arrange her own meeting with Gabriel.

  There hadn’t been a transcript of Isaac’s meeting with the gang lord, but Olivia doubted there was anything she needed to read. Since he hadn’t gotten any information, there wasn’t anything to throw out when Gabriel’s team of lawyers inevitably used the meeting as an excuse to make the DA’s life miserable.

  “Detective Wright. Detective Wright?”

  The voice pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up to see Dawn Ridley, the head of Cold Cases, or the Queen of Siberia as Isaac might say, holding a manila folder. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

  “I…about as good as can be expected.”

  “You ready to jump back in?”

  “Always.”

  Dawn held the folder out to her. “Remains of a young woman found Christmas morning on the side of Sepulveda, just before Culver City.”

  “Is there an ID yet?”

  Dawn nodded at the folder, indicating she should have a look. The picture on the top showed the body facedown, as it had been discovered, with long, black hair splayed over her shoulders. The size of the body indicated the girl was probably in her late teens. The second picture showed her face, but Olivia refused to believe what she was seeing. She flipped through the rest of the photographs, read the report of the officer who responded to the 911 call, and then scoured the photos again.

  Olivia was beginning to understand how one could believe at least six impossible things before breakfast.

  “The report says she’s been dead for ten years.”

  “At least. It’s difficult to tell from the pictures because the body has been…remarkably preserved. Like some sicko has been keeping it in his basement freezer for ten years and just now decided to clean it out.”

  “And she was found on the side of the road?”

  “Yes. A passing motorist he saw something sticking up from the ground, so he stopped to investigate.”

  “She was close enough to be visible?”

  Dawn pointed to the top of the second photograph in the series. “Her hand was. We think the rising sun must have reflected off her skin just right to catch his attention. Especially considering the speed he was probably traveling.”

  “Dawn, she couldn’t have died ten years ago.”

  Dawn frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because this is Sophe Saucedo. She disappeared five years ago when she was fifteen. She would have been ten a decade ago.”

  “Maybe this is her sister. Or a cousin.”

  She wasn’t Sophe’s sister or her cousin.

  “How did you recognize the name so quickly?” Dawn asked. “I know you’ve got one of the best memories in the department, but you recognized her right away. I could see it on your face.”

  Olivia skimmed the folder, confirming there hadn’t been any positive identification done. “No, you’re right. I’m probably wrong. Is t
his my case?”

  “If you want it. I hate to pile more work on your desk.”

  “It’s not your fault our work is never done,” Olivia muttered, her attention going back to the photo that showed Sophe’s face. Five years older than the school pictures Olivia had been using, but unmistakable. Olivia’s stomach churned until she had to close the folder and set it aside.

  “Olivia, I’ve been meaning to speak to you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Have you been feeling well lately? The past few weeks you haven’t seemed like yourself.”

  Olivia couldn’t even force herself to smile, but she did try to soften her mouth a little while she nodded. “I’ve been busy helping Detective McGuire build a case to arrest Gabriel de los Rios. Plus juggling all my own cases. So I guess I’ve been spreading myself too thin.”

  “You look like you haven’t been sleeping,” Dawn observed.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve been sleeping and eating. I’m not going to run myself into the ground, Dawn. I know I won’t be any good to anybody that way.”

  Dawn nodded, though she didn’t exactly look relieved. “If you need my help…”

  “I know where you to find you.”

  As soon as Dawn returned to her office, Olivia pulled out the stack of six folders she’d been reading and re-reading in an attempt to find any clues since Stacy Montenegro’s surprise reappearance. When Stacy turned up in the emergency room at Saint Joe’s, Olivia had allowed herself to hope it was a good sign for all the girls Gabriel had kidnapped. Especially when she learned they were being treated like princesses in preparation for some rite involving the Silver Maiden and time travel.

  Sophe Rivas Saucedo was reported missing on February 21, 2005, by her brother, Nazario. He’d been a suspect for the first twenty-four hours, but lack of forensic evidence coupled with a tight alibi eventually cleared his name. Given the timing, the proximity to the other kidnappings, and the fact that a body was never discovered, as well as the age and background of the victim, and the nature of the crime, Olivia had been convinced she was a victim of whoever had taken Stacy Montenegro.

  It was hard not to jump to the obvious conclusion about the identity of her murderer, but how could she ever prove it? She didn’t want to tell her theory to Isaac until she had more evidence, and she especially didn’t want to give the information over to Nathan. She’d just found a reason to give him hope. Not that this would necessarily destroy it, but it sure as hell didn’t make things better. She needed to be methodical about this. She’d work on getting a positive ID first, and then deal with the fact that a girl who’d gone missing in 2005 had apparently died in 2000.

  “You’re sure it’s the same girl?” Isaac asked, a little unnecessarily in Olivia’s opinion, since it was clearly the same the girl.

  “Yes. A positive match on fingerprints and dental records. I’d order a DNA test if we had a sample on file. But I’m sure it’s her.”

  “What was the cause of death?”

  “A skull fracture that resulted in severe hemorrhaging. She bled to death, though there isn’t a trace of blood on her clothes or skin or in her hair. Somebody took the time to scrub her down, put her in clean clothes and then literally put her on ice.”

  Isaac frowned. “On ice?”

  “She’s clearly been frozen and then…thawed. The freezing process damaged her cells quite a bit, so the ten years is more like their best estimate.”

  “So it could have been anytime.”

  Isaac flipped the pizza box open, studying the final two cold slices before selecting one and shoving half of it in his mouth. Olivia couldn’t complain at his lack of manners, since this was the first time they’d bothered with food all day. She brought the liter of Diet Coke to her mouth to hide her yawn, knowing the caffeine itself wouldn’t do much to help her stay on her feet. After spending six hours driving herself crazy, she’d ordered a pizza and found Isaac, hoping he would be a cold dose of reality. Maybe she was only seeing what she wanted to see. Maybe his fresh eyes would make this make sense.

  “But you don’t believe that?” Isaac asked around a mouthful of food.

  “No.”

  “Are you certain she’s one of Gabriel’s girls?”

  “No. I’ll need to speak to Stacy. I didn’t go over there this morning because I wanted the fingerprints first. I wish I could leave her alone and let her heal. But…she’s the only one who’s gotten a good look at the girls. Well, the only one who will still agree to talk to me. Even with Gabriel behind bars, nobody on the outside wants to risk pissing him off.”

  “Or you could ask Gabriel himself.”

  Olivia chewed on her lip. “It occurred to me, but he’s not going to say anything. He can’t very well maintain his innocence and admit he’s been holding that girl for captive for five years.”

  “When are you going to talk to Stacy?”

  “Tomorrow morning, if I can. But before I do, I have to contact Sophe’s family.”

  Isaac reached across the desk and took her hand, squeezing her fingers briefly. She needed more. Isaac wanted to do more, but they were sitting in the middle of the department, surrounded by people. Olivia had come to terms with the fact they couldn’t keep their relationship a complete secret, but they still avoided flaunting it.

  “Can I do anything?”

  “Don’t worry about me. This is familiar territory. It comes with the job, after all.”

  Isaac nodded, dropping his attention back to the file in his hand. He hadn’t mentioned what cases were currently working their way across his desk, but Olivia wondered if they had anything to do with the fresh lines around his eyes. She almost saw the wheels turning in his head as he flipped through the reports and pictures.

  “What do you think happened to Sophe?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I don’t know. We barely have enough to construct a scenario, let alone specific evidence. All I have is speculation.”

  “Then speculate.”

  “I think Marisol kept her alive until she was no longer useful. Maybe she’s been storing her in a freezer this whole time. Maybe this was…some sort of message? Or a warning? I don’t know. But there’s no point in going down that road until we know for sure she was one of the girls Marisol sent back in the ritual.”

  “Have you talked to Nathan about this yet?”

  Olivia frowned. “Do you think I should? Remy was sent back in place of Stacy, and now we think one of the girls she was sent back to has turned up dead. I don’t know if this is information he needs right now.”

  “You’re speculating too much, though. Gabriel needs those girls. They’re valuable. Why would they kill one of them? She could have slipped and fallen down the stairs. Putting her in the freezer would fit that scenario. Besides, he knows more about the Silver Maiden than all of us. And if the coins have anything to do with this…”

  “The coins aren’t responsible for every bad thing that happens.” The coin certainly hadn’t bludgeoned a young woman to death.

  “No, just most bad things. Besides, it’ll be better for him if he’s doing something.”

  “I’ll let him know what going on.” Once she had a few more answers.

  Isaac nodded. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Do I look bad? You’re the second person who’s asked today.”

  “You don’t look like yourself.”

  “None of us look like ourselves, Isaac.”

  “I know. But there’s something…off.”

  “I’m fine,” Olivia repeated with more force, though she didn’t know who she was trying to convince. She didn’t feel fine, but how could she given the current circumstances? A part of her feared they were all in danger of breaking down, their minds bending from the out-of-this-world impossible experiences, and then finally snapping from the all-too-mundane sense of loss and helplessness. “But I better get going.”

  “Thanks for the dinner.”

  “No problem. Come by tonight?”

&nbs
p; “Absolutely.”

  She couldn’t kiss him good-bye, but she let her fingers skim over his shoulder as she passed. She already missed working with him. He’d made it quite clear he would prefer it if she became his partner in a professional sense. From Isaac’s point of view, it made perfect sense for her to transfer to his division where she could make a real difference—his words, not hers. On days like this, she almost understood his logic. At least when he was given a new case, he had a reasonable chance of finding the asshole responsible and securing a conviction. But then she thought of Sophe’s brother, and how he’d been forced to spend every day of his life in limbo. Waiting, hungry for any scrap of news.

  Now his wait was over, but her job was just beginning.

  Olivia parked across the street from the Montenegro’s home, taking the time to gather her file and her thoughts before leaving the confines of her car. Even though they’d come to know each other well over the years since Olivia was assigned to their daughter’s case, she had no doubt John and Ruth would be happy if they never saw her again. She’d witnessed their reunion with their daughter in the hospital after the raid on Gabriel’s house, and seeing the three of them cling to each other, crying and praying, had twisted the knife already lodged in Olivia’s heart. Isaac had been right when he argued they needed to keep her family safe by not informing them Stacy was alive. Gabriel would have killed them to get to her, as he’d killed the guards at the safe house where she’d been staying. But Olivia still felt terrible about every single second they had missed. Like she was personally responsible for all the agony they’d been through since Stacy’s initial disappearance.

  With a final deep breath, she left the car and crossed the silent street at a clip pace. There were no cars in the driveway. Olivia couldn’t say for sure if anybody was home because she hadn’t called ahead. A part of her had been convinced if she called, they wouldn’t want to talk to her. A belief even more irrational now that she might have wasted a trip to Asuza.