Hand of Evil

“Hardly,” Ali answered. “I’m not going to be happy until I can hand you back over to your father and turn you into his problem instead of mine.”

Back in the hospital lobby, Detective Lee Farris had arrived on the scene and taken charge of the situation. He had moved Sandy Mitchell and Madeline Havens to the far corner of the room and had commandeered both a small table and a power outlet for Madeline’s computer. By then all three sketches had been completed. While Lee began questioning Sandy, Madeline used a tiny portable scanner/printer to run off copies of the composite drawings.

With no one paying particular attention to her, Crystal wandered over to the printer and picked up one of the sketches. She looked at it for only a moment. Then, turning deathly pale, she let the paper slip from her hand. “I’ve gotta go to the restroom. I’m gonna be sick.”

As she raced away, Ali picked up the fallen sketch, which turned out to be the one of the empty-eyed man she had seen earlier. Crystal may not have picked the sketch out from a law-enforcement-approved montage, but her reaction was enough to convince Ali that for Crystal Holman, the chilling likeness was of someone she recognized.

Ali followed Crystal as far as the restroom door, where the very convincing sound of retching made it clear that Crystal really was sick. Before Ali could storm inside and confront her about any of it, however, Crystal’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. When Ali went to answer, she discovered it was a text message rather than a voice call, a message from someone called CU. Does that C stand for Curt? Ali wondered.

“WHERE R U?” the message read. “WENT TO PARK. U DIDNT SHOW.”

The words confirmed Ali’s worst suspicions. Crystal hadn’t gone to the park just to get away from the hospital. She had gone there to meet this person who was now text-messaging her. And wasn’t it possible that this was also the same guy Crystal claimed she couldn’t contact, Curt with no last name? And why was he so eager to be in touch with Crystal now? Ali was reasonably sure he was looking for a second helping of whatever sexual favors Crystal Holman had been offering.

Staring at the screen, Ali wanted to reach through the phone and grab CU by the neck. Much as she would have enjoyed strangling him, she also knew someone needed to convince him to come forward and tell the authorities whatever he knew about Kip Hogan’s attackers. Since Detective Farris was fully occupied with interviewing Sandy Mitchell at the moment, Ali decided to take matters into her own hands. And fingers.

Ali and Chris had been sending text messages for years. When she had been working late hours at the station, text messaging had afforded her the simplest means of staying in touch with her son. And because she had been considered “in the know” on that topic, she had done a series of stories designed to help clueless parents have some idea of what their kids were doing and saying with their now ubiquitous cell phones.

Ali hesitated for a moment. Would she be able to reply without letting CU know that someone other than Crystal was responding? What’s there to lose? she wondered.

“WENT,” Ali said, keying in her response. “CAUGHT.” Ali had had to think a minute. “UHA.” She was pretty sure that meant under house arrest, but she had no way of knowing if CU understood what she was saying.

“WAYN?” That one was easy. Where are you now?

“HOSPITAL”

“ST FRANCIS?”

“Y” YES.

Inside the restroom the toilet flushed. That meant Crystal would be coming out soon. “L8R,” Ali wrote. “PAW” Ali knew that was universal teen speak for “parents are watching.”

Ali shoved the phone back into her pocket just as Crystal emerged from the restroom. “Better?” Ali asked.

Crystal nodded wanly. Either the girl really was sick, or she was doing an excellent job of faking it. She went over to a love seat and lay down on it, covering her eyes with her arm. Meanwhile, the phone was once again vibrating in Ali’s pocket, announcing the arrival of another message.

Just then Bob Larson bounded into the hospital lobby. Ali hadn’t expected him until much later-not until after the restaurant closed in the early afternoon and he had a chance to drive down.

“My Bronco’s still in the shop,” Bob explained. “Franco gave me a loaner and your mother let me off early, so here I am. What’s happening?”

Crystal’s phone vibrated impatiently. “Detective Farris from Flagstaff is here interviewing Sandy,” Ali told him. “And we now have a set of composite drawings of the guys Kip confronted the other day.”

“Are they the same ones who beat him up?” Bob asked.

“Could be,” Ali answered. “We don’t know that for sure.”

Bob glanced at Crystal, who was still sprawled on the love seat. “What’s going on with her?” he asked. “Is she okay?”

“She claims to be sick,” Ali said. “But I’m not sure I believe her.” With that, Ali walked over to the love seat.

“Sit up, Crystal,” she ordered. “I need to talk to you.”

Crystal uncovered her eyes, but she didn’t move. “What?” she asked.

“I have errands to run,” Ali told her. “My dad’s here. He’s your babysitter for the moment, and he’s going to watch you like a hawk. If you know what’s good for you, by the time I get back, you’ll have spilled your guts to Detective Farris. Otherwise I’ll tell him you’ve been withholding information in a homicide investigation. I believe that qualifies as a felony, by the way.”

With that Ali turned and headed toward the door with the phone still vibrating in her pocket and with her father padding along after her.

“Aren’t you being a little tough on her?” Bob Larson asked.

“Not nearly tough enough,” Ali replied. “And I’m serious. Keep an eye on her. She’s already run off once today, and she’ll do it again if you give her half a chance.”

“But where are you going?” Bob wanted to know.

“Out,” Ali said. “There’s something I need to do.”

“When will you be back?”

“When I can.” Realizing that she, too, was sounding like a rebellious teenager, Ali hurried outside and extracted Crystal’s vibrating telephone.

“RUOK?” CU wanted to know. “IWSN”

Ali’s stomach tightened into a knot. IWSN was a parental red flag for I want sex now.

You turd, she thought. “ME2,” Ali wrote.

“WAW” That translated into where and when?

Headed for her car in the garage, Ali scrambled for an answer. She needed a place with enough vehicle traffic that her Cayenne would blend in. She also needed a spot where, conceivably, Crystal could arrive on foot.

“CFEE SHP ON THOMAS,” Ali wrote.

“CUT” That would be IM-speak for see you there.

And I will see you there, you worthless jerk, Ali thought grimly. I just won’t be the thirteen-year-old you’re expecting.

CHAPTER 10

It took less than three minutes for Ali to exit the parking garage and make it to the parking lot of the dingy coffee shop across from the hospital. She pulled into a space next to a uniform store and waited. Minutes later, and even though she was expecting it-waiting for it-she was shocked when a white Ford Explorer nosed slowly through the parking lot without stopping.

Suddenly meeting up with CU was no longer a remote possibility. It was all too real. What would she say to Curt? Apprehensive about the coming confrontation, a combination of fear and rage swept through her. Ali’s heart sped up. Her hands began to cramp.

A few minutes later, the Explorer was back. Again it didn’t stop, but the second time through the lot, Ali