Chapter 13
The patrol car cruised slowly by the basketball court. Several neighbors had called earlier in the shift to complain of teens loitering, drinking and possibly selling drugs there.
Now at 1:45 am, it was deserted. The only movement was a light breeze blowing litter around. As the car turned the corner, one of the officers said, "Hold up. What's that over by the back fence?" He squinted to get a better look. "That wasn't there when we swung by 30 minutes ago."
"You're right," said his partner. "Let's have a look."
They parked and approached the fence. What they saw shocked both the veteran officers. "Holy Mother of God," said one and quickly crossed himself. His partner reached for his radio. "Call the homicide guys and CSI. We just rolled up on a deceased white female."
Two homicide detectives arrived, followed shortly thereafter by the medical examiner. The detectives shook their heads at the gruesome scene and murmured between themselves. "No ID, no purse. Not even a cell phone," said one.
"No jewelry either," said the other one. "And this girl's young. Maybe 17, 18 years old. Same age as my daughter."
When the medical examiner rolled the body over, she discovered a clue. "Check out her right ankle," she said.
A butterfly tattoo surrounded by stars. One of the detectives bent and snapped a picture with his phone. "It's a start," he said. "What in the hell happened to this kid?"
Several miles away, a young woman staggered into a 24-hour convenience store. She fell to her knees just inside the front door. She had been savagely beaten. Her clothes were torn and bloody and her long brown hair was matted with blood. The lone clerk on duty ran over to her and gasped. "Are you okay? What, what's your name?"
She was breathing hard, but managed to utter one word. "E . . . Eden." Then she collapsed on the cold tile floor and lost consciousness.
He nodded nervously. "Okay, Eden. I'm calling 911." He patted his pockets, then remembered he'd left his phone behind the counter. "Dammit. Hang on, lady. Help will be here soon."
Exactly one week ago he'd started this job. His brief orientation did not cover situations like this and he was scared shitless. What if the psycho who did this is lurking outside?
He went over and locked the doors.
Hailey was walking to her car when Voight texted her.
Meet me downtown at the Russian Embassy.
She responded promptly. On my way.
She got in the car and buckled the seat belt. Russian Embassy? What do they want with us? She plugged in the GPS to see where the Embassy was located. Then she sent Dante a text.
Meeting Voight downtown. Not sure why.
Nobody knew what the downtown meeting was about, but they didn't seem too bothered by it. "We'll know when we know," shrugged Adam as he tapped his pen on the desk.
"Sometimes it's better not to ask too many questions in this unit," added Kevin.
"Yeah. I can do that," said Dante. But he did have questions. However, they were not ones he could voice. Did Voight find out about our off-book surveillance? Was Hailey in trouble because of it? If she's in trouble, then I'm in trouble, too.
He'd thought a lot about Hailey since Friday night at the tattoo parlor. He almost texted her a couple times over the weekend to see if the tat was healing okay. But he didn't.
Then he went to the grocery store for his mom on Saturday morning. A woman walking down the street caused him to do a double-take. Is that Hailey? She stopped to talk to two other women outside the beauty salon. As she turned, he realized it was not Upton. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment.
Dios mío. I have to stop thinking about her. She's off-limits. Way, way off-limits.
His knee bounced up and down under the desk. Finally, he got up and went to the file cabinet in the corner and began filing folders. Adam looked over his shoulder. "You're a better man than I am, Torres," he said.
"No bad guys to throw in the cage. Gotta keep busy."
Kim looked from Adam to Kevin. "You boys could learn a thing or two from Dante."
"Does it count that I unloaded and then re-loaded the dishwasher last night?" asked Adam.
"That's a home chore, not a work chore," said Kim with a sigh. She closed a file and passed it to Dante.
Kevin laughed. "But it's a good start, bro. You keep doing that and you'll stay on Kim's good side.
The longer Voight and Hailey were away, the more anxious Dante became. After filing a big stack of folders, he went to the break room on the pretext of getting more coffee. He took a second to text Hailey.
You good?
Yeah. We're headed back now.
Does it involve our fishing trip?
Maybe.
Dante stared at that one word. He hoped the proverbial shit was not about to hit the fan. For both of them.
Fifteen minutes later, Voight and Hailey returned. "Pay attention," said Voight. "We have a new case." He stuck photos of three attractive young women on the white board and pointed to the first one. "This one was found murdered, this one was beaten almost to death and the third one was reported missing."
"There hasn't been any chatter on the radio about this," said Kim.
"That's right and there won't be," said Voight. "This is a very sensitive situation. The murder victim, Tatiana Ivanova, is the niece of a senior advisor at the Russian embassy. The Mayor and the State Department want Intelligence working this. But it stays in-house."
"They all look young. Are they college students?" asked Kevin.
Hailey took up the story. "Tatiana was; not sure about the others. The advisor didn't know if they were friends or acquaintances of his niece. He was pretty distraught. She was his brother's only child." She paused and met Dante's eyes briefly. She could guess what he was thinking.
"We went to Med to talk to the survivor. Unfortunately, she was so groggy after surgery the only thing we got out of her was a name. Eden. We don't know if that's her name or the missing girl's name."
Voight continued. "Homicide found a purse in a trash can two blocks from the crime scene. Inside was this torn business card with "Windy" and a partial phone number on it. 312-4. No latent prints."
Kim started trying to run down the phone number. "Okay, 312 is an area code. But with only one other number it's gonna be challenging."
"Challenging is what we do, so dig in," said Voight. Then he began barking out assignments to each one as his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket. "It's the Mayor. I hope he's not expecting an update already." He moved toward his office to answer it.
The others got on their phones and computers immediately. Hailey and Dante exchanged a look. "We have to tell Voight what we know," whispered Dante. "Three escorts brought to Zhurov's house Thursday night by Windy City Dates."
Hailey looked over at her teammates. Everyone was in a flurry of activity. "Not yet. We need more info."
"Hailey, I know it's the same girls. I'd bet my badge on it."
"Slow down. We didn't see the faces of two of them and only a side shot of the third. It might be them or it might be totally different girls. And right now, we don't know if these three incidents are even related."
She sensed Dante wanted to argue the point, but he gave a slight nod. "Very well. I'll follow your lead."
"I got something," said Kim. "That number looks like it's connected to an escort service, Windy City Dates. Actually, one of several numbers. Vice has raided them several times, but they keep reinventing themselves under new names."
"Escorts," said Adam. "Might be college girls gone wild. Wouldn't be the first time."
Voight was back in the bullpen. "What did the Mayor want?" asked Hailey.
Voight shook his head. "To know what progress we'd made. I reminded him these cases take time and that every time he calls, that takes me away from investigating."
"Hope he got the hint," said Kevin.
"Doubtful. He's the nagging type. Remind me not to vote for him in the next election." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Did Homicide bring their files over?"
"Not yet," said Hailey.
"You and Torres go down there and get them. If they have a problem with that, tell them to take it up with the Mayor. The clock is ticking on finding that missing girl."