Broken Boys_The Extractor Read online

  Outside, the morning air was already warm, and she decided to change into the sleeveless green sweater before her lunch with Kyle. He would be happy to see her in something besides blue. She crossed the connecting sidewalk to Marty’s front door, gave three loud raps, and waited. It took him a full minute to yell “Clear!”

  Rox walked in, noticing the smell of sawdust. Marty stepped out of the hallway into view, wearing a tool belt and safety glasses—like some kind of building maintenance guy.

  “What the hell are you remodeling now?”

  “Just adding some shelves.” He grinned and pulled off his glasses.

  He’d always been this way, but to a kid it had seemed normal for a single dad, working full time and raising two daughters. Later she’d been on her own and employed full-time too, so she hadn’t seen much of him. His true hyperactivity had surfaced after he retired and they’d bought the duplex together.

  “I’ve got something more interesting for you.” Rox slid into his built-in kitchen booth. “I checked out Ridgeline on the Nevada business registry. Curtis Fletcher is listed as the registered agent. That’s Carrie’s fiancé, Josh’s soon-to-be stepfather.”

  “What the hell?” Marty dropped his tools and slid in across from her. “Maybe the camp’s not that bad. The mother must have known how the kids are treated.”

  “Maybe not. I’m sure no one does except the kids and counselors who are out there experiencing it.” She wondered why more teenagers didn’t complain. Or maybe they did, and no one really listened. A dark thought crossed her mind. “Maybe Carrie realized too late what the correctional program was like. Or discovered too much about the Ridgeline business model. Curtis Fletcher might have killed her to silence her.”

  Marty cleared his throat. “Let me check the guy out before you run with this idea. Remember, the detectives arrested Isaac Lovejoy, Carrie’s ex.”

  “I know. Fletcher might just be an investor who doesn’t really know much about how the business operates. He might have just been tired of dealing with an obnoxious teenager and suggested sending him to Ridgeline to straighten him out before they got married.”

  “Now that Carrie is dead, the camp is likely to send Josh home.” Marty nodded vigorously, as though wishful thinking would make it true.

  Rox shook her head. “The woman I talked to in the Ridgeline office said no student goes home until they graduate—and that can take months.”

  “You need to notify the office right now that Josh’s mother is dead and that he needs to come home.” Marty leaned forward. “Pretend to be his grandmother or something.”

  “No, you have to call. I’ve left messages. They know my voice.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.” Marty got up to find his phone.

  Rox stood too and checked the time. She didn’t want to be late for her lunch. Marty came back with his cell, and she reached out for it. He let her have it, and she keyed in the number from the Ridgeline website before giving it back.

  “Here goes.” Marty pressed the dial icon.

  “Wait!”

  He hung up.

  Rox processed several jumbled thoughts, then finally said, “What if Curtis Fletcher already notified the camp about Carrie’s death? You calling and making up a grandfather that might not exist could make them suspicious and paranoid.”

  “So what’s the harm? Especially if Josh is already on his way home?”

  “If Fletcher hasn’t told them, and you make them suspicious, it could tip our hand and make it harder to get Josh out.” She paced the kitchen as other possibilities came to her. “Carrie’s fiancé may not like Josh, especially since he has drug and behavior problems. Sending Josh to the camp was probably Fletcher’s idea.”

  “Good point.” Marty rubbed his hair. “He could be happy to leave him there.”

  “Where would they escort Josh home to? Unless he has another relative, like a grandmother in the area. I have to talk this over with our client.” Rox pulled out her own phone. “Lovejoy was booked early this morning and may not be fully processed yet, but I’ll try.”

  Her call to the jail was a waste of time. Only his lawyer could see Lovejoy. Her client wouldn’t have general visiting privileges until next week. She glanced at Marty’s kitchen clock again. “I have to go get ready for my lunch with Kyle.”

  “I’ll bet he can get you in to see Lovejoy.”

  “Maybe.” She already had several favors to ask him. “When I get back, I plan to pack for a trip to Nevada. It’s time to find the transport office and the camp. I’m sure Josh would like to attend his mother’s funeral.”

  “I’ll see what I can learn about Curtis Fletcher.” Marty grabbed a small paper tablet from a kitchen drawer. “Give me his address if you have it, and I’ll drive over there and see if he’s home. I might even come up with a ruse to chat him up.”

  Rox smiled. Marty liked the undercover work as much as she did. She recalled the address from the business registry and recited the information from memory. “I also have a boy named Tommy to find. Do you know who’s working missing-person cases now?”

  “No. Sorry.” Marty bounced on his toes, ready to get to work.

  “I’ll ask Kyle.” Rox started for the door. “Good luck.” Her dark thoughts about Fletcher surfaced again, and she abruptly turned back. “Be safe, please.”

  Chapter 15

  Forty minutes later Rox entered the Heavy Chevy Grill on Salmon Street, about two blocks from the Portland Police Bureau. A wave of memories flooded her, and she paused to absorb them. She’d eaten many lunches here with friends from the bureau, but she’d also dined alone more times than she’d cared for. She looked around to see that nothing had changed in the decade she’d been gone. The fifties theme still included classic-car photos and black-and-white checkered tablecloths. She’d never liked the decor, but the food was excellent. She passed two officers she knew on her way to a table and said hello but didn’t stop to chat.

  Kyle was late, as usual, but the sight of him walking in made her heart happy. He was classically tall, dark-haired, and handsome—and wore a gun under his charcoal-gray suit. Always a bonus! Just because she didn’t like to carry one herself didn’t mean a weapon wasn’t sexy on a man. On the surface, he was perfect for her. For the nine months they’d dated, he’d seemed great under the surface too—liking most of her quirks.

  “Hey, Rox. You look nice. That’s a great color for you.” Kyle sat across from her, facing the window.

  “Thanks. I have a purple dress too, but I haven’t worn it yet.” She smiled shyly. Her ex-boyfriend knew her better than anyone, except maybe Marty. Still, she felt nervous, as though it were a first date. But it wasn’t. She was here to gather information, and he thought she wanted to get back together. This would be a delicate balance—even for someone with social skills.

  “How are you?” Kyle patted her hand but didn’t linger. He didn’t care for public displays of affection.

  “I’m good. Keeping busy with interesting cases.” Rox picked up the menu but didn’t look at it. She had to be honest. “I still have a few treatments left, but I’m skipping them this week.”

  “How are the side effects?”

  “I’m past the bad migraines, but I still have a minor headache every morning.”

  “So you’re feeling better?” Kyle looked confused. Or concerned. She couldn’t tell.

  “Somewhat.” She had other side effects too, like the hearing loss and an occasional memory slip, but they would pass. Or so her doctor said.

  “How’s Marty?”

  “The same. He put up new shelves this morning.”

  Kyle laughed.

  A server stopped, poured coffee, and took their order. They both knew the menu and what they wanted. When the waitress left, Rox said, “This was a good idea. I haven’t had a pastrami sandwich since we ate at that deli on the coast.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. Keep it simple. “I’ve missed you too.”
The few Match.com dates she’d gone on hadn’t worked out, but at least she was trying now. She’d been alone during her career at the CIA, and it had been unhealthy. She’d spent too many extra hours at work, and her social life had consisted of Skype chats with her family members. She smiled at Kyle. “How’s your work? You mentioned a new homicide.”

  “Yeah. It’s ugly. A woman was beaten and strangled, most likely by her ex-husband.”

  Carrie had been beaten?

  Kyle downed half his cup of java, then added, “The suspect has no alibi, and we interrogated him for hours, but we just started collecting evidence.”

  The assault was new information, and she had to be sure they were talking about the same person. “Who’s the victim?”

  “Carrie Lovejoy. It was on the news last night.” Kyle stared into Rox’s eyes. “Marty was at the restaurant when we arrested her ex-husband. Do you know anything about that?”

  Was Kyle pumping her for intel? Rox almost laughed, but this was too serious. “Can I still trust you to protect what I do?”

  Kyle hesitated for a split-second. “As far as I can… without ruining my career.”

  She decided to tell him everything. Almost. “Isaac Lovejoy hired me to extract his son Josh from a wilderness camp. He thinks the boy might be suicidal. I can’t really vouch for my client, but my instinct tells me he didn’t kill his ex-wife.”

  “She had a restraining order against him.”

  “So? They’d had an argument about the correctional camp, because she sent their son without his consent. Maybe even forged Isaac Lovejoy’s signature.” She now realized that with Fletcher’s connection to Ridgeline, the father’s consent probably hadn’t been necessary. “According to my client, his ex was trying to make him look bad—in case he took her to court over the whole thing.”

  Kyle nodded. “You’re helping my case. Killing his ex is an easy way to get full custody without the hassle and expense of lawyers.”

  Rox couldn’t argue. But she’d met both of the men in Carrie’s life, and she liked and trusted her client more. Rox had to bite her tongue to keep from saying that. Bringing up her visit to the church wasn’t a good idea. “Do you know anything about Ridgeline Wilderness Health?”

  “Never heard of it.” Kyle looked down at his empty cup. “You know I don’t work juvenile cases.”

  Rox started to ask another question, but Kyle cut in. “A few hours before her death, Carrie attended a prayer service, during which her phone was taken from her purse.” He looked up and locked eyes with her. “Most likely by a very tall woman who was new to the service that evening. Do you know anything about that?”

  Oh hell. If she admitted to interacting with the victim, someone on the task force would have to officially question her. Rox couldn’t afford to get sucked into a homicide investigation. With his mother dead and his father in jail, Josh needed someone to step in and protect him. Curtis Fletcher—with his cold eyes and ownership in a tough-love correctional camp—wasn’t likely to be that kind of person.

  “You’re not answering me. Not a good sign.” Kyle’s expression was deadpan.

  Relieved that he didn’t look angry, Rox tried to explain. “This case is complicated, and a young life is in danger.” She remembered Tommy, the missing boy. “Maybe several young lives. I have to put them first. And I don’t know anything that can help your investigation.”

  After a long moment, Kyle said, “You’ll tell me if you learn something?”

  “Of course.”

  The server came back with their sandwiches. “Anything else?”

  “More coffee, please.” Kyle’s eyes were puffy from lack of sleep.

  The server hurried off, and Rox stared at her meal, not as hungry as she’d been a minute ago. “Will you tell me what you have on my client?”

  Kyle already had a bite in his mouth. “Motive and opportunity.”

  “What’s the drug possession charge about?”

  “He had pain pills in his pocket and no prescription.”

  A bullshit charge! She’d known it. But they obviously didn’t have any trace or blood evidence yet. She was even more certain that Lovejoy was innocent. “You said Carrie was beaten. What exactly does that mean?”

  “Complete confidence?”

  “Always.”

  Kyle leaned forward and kept his voice low. “Broken nose, cracked ribs, and bruises on her wrists as if someone had restrained her.”

  Who would beat Carrie and why? It almost had to be one of the men in her life. “What about Lovejoy’s hands? Any injuries or signs that he was involved?”

  Kyle shrugged. “Not yet.”

  They didn’t have a case. She remembered her chat with Marty about Curtis Fletcher and why he might want his girlfriend dead. “You should look closer at Carrie’s fiancé.”

  “You shouldn’t tell me how to do my job.”

  Ouch. Her blunt old-self surfaced without warning. “That was rude.”

  “Sorry.” Kyle gave her a half-smile. “That’s more like the Rox I used to know.”

  She was quiet for a minute. “The treatment’s effects may not last. But even if they don’t, I have new knowledge that’s a permanent part of me.”

  “I’m happy for you.” He met her eyes with sincerity—then took another bite.

  Rox picked up her sandwich. She might as well eat too. She still had a busy day ahead and possibly a long drive to Nevada.

  Chapter 16

  Friday, July 7, 12:45 p.m., Reno, Nevada

  Ruth Hammond read through the application again, chewing her nails. Something about the language wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on the problem. The payment concerned her too. The name on the card didn’t match the mother’s name on the application. Jolene McAdams had said her father-in-law was paying for the program, and that was pretty common. Grandparents often had the money when the parents didn’t. The teenager’s name was Martin, the same as the grandfather on the credit card, which made sense too. But she’d googled the name Martin MacFarlane anyway, because it was her job to screen applicants. Her instructions were to deny any parent who was a lawyer and to carefully screen applicants with law enforcement careers. She also ran credit checks and refused anyone with a credit score under seven hundred.

  The name Martin MacFarlane—in association with Portland, Oregon, where the applicant was located—had come up in a news article about a retirement banquet for lifetime police officers. If he was the same man, that was a mild strike against the application. Also, when they talked on the phone, the woman had seemed a little off, with a tone that was rather unemotional. Most people were pretty desperate by the time they considered a wilderness boot camp for their child.

  On the other hand, the business needed students and cash flow, so they were less picky now. Ruth decided to call Mr. Fletcher and run it by him. Her boss had moved to Portland and started running the boot camps out of Central Oregon—after all the trouble with his brother and the lawsuit from the Metzler family. But Mr. Fletcher didn’t need to be in Reno to run the business. They shared files on a virtual private network and held meetings by video conferencing. Normally, she would contact the operations manager first if she had important questions, but he was in the hospital with a burst appendix. Ruth found Mr. Fletcher’s number in the laminated directory she kept on her desk and called him.

  Her boss answered right away. “Ruth, what’s going on?” His voice sounded strange.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but Mark isn’t available. His appendix burst, and he’s in the hospital.” Ruth laughed nervously. “But you probably knew that.”

  “Yes. Get to the point, please. I’m having a rough time right now.”

  “Sorry, but I have an application I’m not sure about. The person paying is the boy’s grandfather and a retired cop.”

  Mr. Fletcher gave a small sigh. “I’m sure it’s fine. Unless the parents have other issues.”

  “Nothing specific. The mother is a recent widow and a
bookkeeper. But I’ve been doing this a long time, and something feels off about her.”

  “What’s her name?” His tone was sharp and worried now.

  “Jolene McAdams.”

  “Fuck!”

  Oh no. Not more trouble. “What’s wrong? Do you know her?”

  “She came to the fellowship the other evening and asked Carrie about Ridgeline. Then Carrie’s phone went missing, and we think the strange woman took it.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “When did she apply?”

  Ruth thought back through the sequence. “Jolene McAdams first called and left a message Wednesday morning.”

  Mr. Fletcher cursed again. “That was before she talked to Carrie.” Her boss suddenly let out a small sob. “Carrie was murdered Wednesday night after the phone incident at the fellowship.”

  Ruth sucked in a startled breath. She didn’t know the boss’ fiancé, but still, the woman had been killed! “I’m so sorry. You must be devastated. I feel horrible about calling you with this.”

  “I’m glad you did. The police think Carrie’s ex-husband did it, but now I’m wondering who the hell this Jolene McAdams really is and why she’s targeting Ridgeline.”

  Someone seeking revenge? Not everyone left boot camp happy with their experience. “Do you think this Jolene woman killed Carrie?”

  “I don’t know. She’s big enough.” He sobbed again.

  Ruth felt so bad for him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Deny her application and refund her money. If she calls again, record her voice, but don’t tell her anything.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ruth remembered that his fiancé’s son was currently in the program. “What about Josh Lovejoy? Should we send him home?”

  “Hell no. I don’t want to deal with him. Besides, the kid needs this program. He’s a pain in the ass.”

  “What about his dad?”

  “He’s in jail. The police think he’s the killer. So Josh has nowhere to go, and I’m not taking him to my place.”