More tears, these silent. Harper slid the tissue box closer, but Macy ignored it, instead wiping her face on the shoulder of her gown. “What happened after the dancing, Macy?”
Macy’s expression was one of pure anguish. “Lily didn’t know it, but I scored some meth at the club, smoked it when she thought I was in the bathroom. Then we left and we were crossing through the alley, the one beside the Towers, the one where—you know. That’s when Darius called, said he needed bail money, that I was the only one who could help him, that he loved me and if I loved him, I’d get him the money.”
She went silent. Harper again marveled at the way girls like Macy were manipulated, love and family twisted into a macabre fantasy by men like Darius. “Then what happened?”
“I told Lily I didn’t want to go to rehab after all, I needed the money for Darius instead, and she said no. I tried to grab her purse, but she pulled away and I… I, oh God, I hit her, so hard that her lip split and her nose spurted blood. And she was so shocked she fell down and just looked at me, like she didn’t even know who I was. That look, it was awful—”
Macy broke off, buried her face in her hands. “She was my only family,” she wailed. “And now she’s gone.”
Harper gave her a moment. No wonder Macy had used Lily’s money to buy enough drugs to keep her so high she might forget. But no high lasted forever. “Macy. What happened next?”
Her face still hidden, she continued in a voice so low Harper had to lean forward to hear it, “I couldn’t take it, I had to stop her from looking at me like that, and there was this chunk of wood and it was in my hand and…” She choked back a sob. “And I hit her. Hard. I grabbed her necklace, and she didn’t even fight, just lay there blinking at me, whispering my name. I had to shut her up, shut out the sound of her saying my name like she loved me, like she cared, like she was surprised. I hit her again, to stop her from saying my name. Over and over and over. I couldn’t stop. She had everything and I had nothing and I was so angry at her for being strong enough to get off the streets and escape, but she left me, she left me behind, I was all alone and I couldn’t stand it anymore and I wanted to die and I wanted her dead and, and, I did it. I killed her. And now I have no one.”
Later that afternoon, Harper hesitated, then knocked on Luka’s open door to get his attention. He glanced up from the small mountains of paperwork that formed a barricade on his desk. She never understood where all the paperwork came from—their case management system was computerized.
Luka followed her glance and grimaced. “Ahearn. He’s decided we’re not busy enough and wants us to review these cold cases.”
Now it was her turn to frown. Cold cases? Sounded like work that the rookie in the unit would be assigned. “I found Lily’s family.”
“Good work. Where?”
“Her aunt lives in Hagerstown. She has custody of Lily’s baby.”
“Did you call Hagerstown PD to make the death notification?” Usually, the locals made out-of-town death notifications—or at least sent someone to be with the family while they called Cambria City for details.
Harper shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling like the rookie detective she was.
“You want to go yourself,” Luka said, immediately understanding her silence.
“I know it’s not protocol, but I can be back by—”
“I should go with you.”
His offer was a kindness she hadn’t expected. And a relief. She’d done death knocks before as a patrol officer, but this felt different. She knew things about Lily that no one else did, maybe not even her own family. How much to tell them? What to hold back? No one taught this in training.
Luka’s gaze drifted back to the stacks of dusty files. “But it’d mean I’d need to miss Ahearn’s meeting.”
Her shoulders slumped. Then, despite his words, Luka stood and grabbed his suit jacket, then his crutches.
“But—what about the meeting?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “A trip to Hagerstown means I’ll need to miss the meeting.” He moved past her out the door to the bullpen. “Ray, Harper and I are taking a road trip. You’ll need to cover for me with Ahearn.”
Ray rolled his eyes. “You know, you keep missing his meetings, sooner or later he’s gonna think I’m the one in charge of this unit.”
“Fine with me. The paperwork is all yours, as well.” Luka glanced at Krichek, who was sitting with his feet on his desk, chair tilted back, sipping the noxious brew he called coffee. “Krichek. Got a case for you—actually four cases.”
“Four? Boss, I can’t carry four open cases!” His feet dropped to the floor. “It’ll ruin my batting average.”
“Not just four open cases, four open cold cases. Files are in my office.”
“Cold cases?” Krichek protested, his glare aimed at Harper. “Shouldn’t that be the rookie’s job?”
“Not today they aren’t. I want case summaries and action items on my desk by the time we get back.” Luka hobbled past them, heading to the door, Harper following.
As they waited for the elevator, she caught sight of his bemused expression. “You enjoy that, don’t you? Making his life hell?”
“It’s what the kid needs. The swift-kick-in-the-pants style of motivation is the only thing that works for Krichek. On his own, he’ll sit around all day wondering what to do next. Give him
