Desolate Mantle Page 7

  Sadie shrugged. “Ole Mrs. Rosary swears she had friends in her younger years that got dragged away by Prowlers. But that would’ve been forty years ago.”

  Interesting. So either it was a superstition, or something about the Prowlers’ organization had changed. Kyra hadn’t concerned herself much with this group. All the Mirelings told her Prowlers were dangerous, but from what Kyra could tell, they were just bottom feeders. They dug through dumpsters, vandalized property, and filched whatever they could get away with. In her search for Manny, they’d never seemed worth her time.

  Kyra realized Sadie was staring at her worriedly. “What?” Kyra asked.

  “You got a weird look on your face,” Sadie said. “You ain’t gonna go looking for the Prowlers or anythin’, are you Supra?”

  Kyra crossed the distance between them. “I’m just trying to figure them out, Sadie. You don’t seem to believe they drag people away, but you’re afraid of them. Why?”

  Sadie sighed. “Why you always so curious ‘bout everythin’, Girl?” She sighed again when Kyra didn’t answer. “Look Supra, they live five layers deep. I never go that deep into the Mire. Ole’ Mrs. Rosary says they’re very secretive. If you venture into their territory, they might hurt you because they don’t want you there. But if you stay out of their way, you won’t have any problems. I’ve been turning tricks here for ten years now—”

  Kyra dropped her eyes so Sadie wouldn’t see the shock there. Sadie was barely twenty-four.

  “—and I never had no problems with the Prowlers. I respect the rules.”

  “Rules?” Kyra asked.

  “Yeah. They ain’t written down, but everybody knows them. People who respect them do fine. Those who don’t could get hurt.”

  “You think that’s what happened with Mallory and Janny? They didn’t respect the Mire’s rules?”

  Sadie shook her head. “No. That’s different. They weren’t breakin’ any rules. Something preyed on them.”

  Sadie looked disturbed, and the way she said it sent a shiver down Kyra’s spine. Sadie had no idea how profound her words could be at the time. The rules of the Mire. Kyra truly didn’t think these Prowlers could lead her to Manny in any way, but she was intrigued by the idea of them.

  “Supra.”

  She looked up to find Sadie’s worried-looking gaze on her once more.

  “You will steer clear of the Prowlers, won’t you?”

  Kyra put on her most reassuring smile. “Of course I will. I’m not interested in the Prowlers, Sadie. I just need to understand. So I can steer clear of them. Respect the rules of the Mire. Like you said.”

  Sadie didn’t look convinced. “But do you respect them, Girl? Sometimes I think you want to know the rules so you can figure out how to get around them.”

  It was all Kyra could do to suppress a smile. Oh how well Sadie knew her. And she didn’t even know Kyra’s real name. The woman perceived much more than the average Mireling did. That’s probably why Kyra had been drawn to Sadie above other Mirelings from the start. Sadie was more aware and intelligent than most, which meant she was more reliable as well.

  “How deep do you go in the Mire, Supra. Honestly?”

  Kyra had gone into the fourth layer a time or two, but only when unavoidable. She decided Sadie didn’t need to know that, though. “Never deeper than the third layer.”

  Sadie looked relieved. “Good. Come on.” They resumed walking.

  “Have you ever come face to face with a Prowler, Sadie?”

  Sadie shook her head. “No. I’ve seen them scavenging, but I always take the long way around them.”

  Kyra nodded. “What’s the deepest you’ve ever gone in the Mire?”

  “Three layers. Like you.”

  Kyra nodded and opened her mouth again.

  “Let’s not talk no more ‘til we get to my apartment. This talk of Prowlers is giving me the creeps. Besides, we’re almost there. I’ll introduce you to Ole Mrs. Rosary.”

  Before Kyra could ask what she meant, Sadie turned right, still two blocks from where her dilapidated apartment building stood.

  “Where are we going?” Kyra asked.

  “To get the baby.”

  “You have a sitter?” Kyra asked surprised.

  “I wouldn’t leave the baby alone while I worked,” Sadie said, then paused. “Well, not if I could help it. You never heard of Mrs. Rosary?”

  “I…guess not. That’s not her real name, is it?”

  “No. She used to go by Rosary back when she turned tricks.”

  “She doesn’t anymore?” Kyra followed Sadie into the yard of a tiny, one-story house that looked like it ought to be condemned.

  “Not for years, now. She’s elderly. Lived in the Mire her whole life and knows how hard it is for us girls. Since she’s home all night anyway, she’s willin’ to watch any kid who sleeps through the night. She won’t take ‘em really little, or when they’re sick. We pay her a little somethin’, but it ain’t much. Lots of the girls use her as a sitter.”

  “That’s…nice of her.” Kyra said.

  Sadie knocked on solid-looking but splinter-ridden wooden door. Kyra wondered what time it was. Not too late, surely. She’d left her hotel at ten-thirty, and it wasn’t long before she found herself at the crime scene. Probably not midnight yet. They must have stood there for two full minutes before the door opened, revealing an ancient-looking black woman with snow white hair, round cheeks, and heavy bags under her eyes.

  “Sadie,” she said, her voice sounding like an old wooden staircase: cracked and rickety. “You’re back early.”

  Sadie nodded and quickly told the old woman about Janny.

  Mrs. Rosary’s eyes turned sad. “I didn’t know her, but such a shame. Let me get Annie.”

  She disappeared into the house, leaving them standing at the door, and returned a minute later with a sleeping Annie in her arms. Sadie took the baby, positioning her so the little red head of hair rested on her shoulder. Annie breathed more deeply for a moment, as though she might wake, and then settled into her mother’s embrace.

  “Mrs. Rosary,” Sadie said. “This is my friend Supra. She’s all right. She watches out for all the girls, too.”

  “Then I’m happy to meet her.” Mrs. Rosary smiled, revealing missing teeth, and extended a hand.

  Kyra took it. The old woman’s skin felt like cool paper, but she had a firm grip. “I think it’s great that you help the girls out like this,” she said, and it was the truth.

  “I do what I can,” Mrs. Rosary creaked. “At least if this Janny girl didn’t have a child of her own, we can be certain there won’t be a double tragedy this time. Like before.”

  “Yeah,” Sadie murmured. “Well, thanks for watchin’ Annie.” The door clicked shut behind them as they moved through the yard. Kyra followed Sadie in silence to her building. She didn’t speak until they were safely in Sadie’s apartment with the door locked, and Annie slept peacefully in the back room.

  Clicking on an orange lamp with no shade, Sadie sat down across from Kyra. She seemed utterly calm. Sadie felt safe here. It was a low-class place with thin walls and mold in the corners, but Kyra still couldn’t blame her. If they talked quietly, no one would hear them. The door was relatively secure, and though Kyra wouldn’t count it as safe as her hotel, it was definitely an improvement on the alleys of the Slip Mire.

  “So,” Kyra said. “Talk to me. Something I said earlier spooked you. What was it?”

  “I swear, Supra,” Sadie said, shaking her head, “you must be a mind-reader. How do you always do that, girl?”

  “I’m not a mind reader, Sadie. I just read people really well.”

  Sadie barked a laugh. “Yeah, obviously.” Her mirth faded to worry almost instantly after the words left her mouth, and it occurred to Kyra the tightness around Sadie’s eyes was fear. Terror, even.

  She laid her hand over Sadie’s. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything. You know that. It won’t leave this room.”

&n
bsp; Sadie swallowed, but nodded. “Do you remember what I told you about Mallory? What I saw the night she died?”

  “Of course. You said she was with a regular, but another john you didn’t know ousted him. The second man was probably the one who killed her.”

  “And do you remember,” Sadie said slowly, “what I said he looked like?”

  Kyra frowned. “He was tall with…” her eyes widened in awe and her mouth fell open. How had that not clicked before? “Long bushy hair. You think it’s the same person I saw with Janny the other night?”

  Sadie shrugged, looking unhappy. “I don’t know. You sure the tall girl you saw was a girl?”

  Kyra thought back. “No. It was a very large, tall woman. She dressed like a woman, so it never occurred to me to think it was a man. Although,” she sat forward again. “You know what? I heard a voice. A male voice. I couldn’t figure out where it came from. Maybe it was from that tall person. They were up ahead, and it drifted back to me…”

  Sadie shivered, though the room was warm.

  Kyra’s head spun. Could it be the same person? A man, dressing like a woman, targeting prostitutes? Then something else occurred to her.

  “You know, I saw the other one, too. Hours before she died.”

  Sadie frowned. “Which one?”

  “Marna,”

  Sadie’s eyes widened. “When did you see her?”

  Kyra filled Sadie in on seeing Marna in the alley only hours before she was found dead.

  “What did the man with her look like?”

  Kyra shook her head. She shut her eyes and tried to visualize what she’d seen. After several minutes, she was no closer. “I don’t know. Marna wore a sequined top. She stood out like a neon sign. I hardly noticed the guy.”

  “Well,” Sadie looked utterly distressed. Desperation tinged her voice. “If he had long, bushy hair like these others, you’d a’ realized it, wouldn’t ya, Supra?”

  Kyra gave Sadie a sad smile. Her friend was fighting hard against the idea of a serial killer. The idea of a dangerous john getting out of hand was scary enough in their profession. The idea of a psycho preying on them was too much. “I don’t know that I would have. He was in the shadows. I couldn’t see him at all.” Kyra sighed, running a hand over her spiky black hair. “I’m going to look into this some more. If there’s someone targeting you girls, we need to tell someone about it.”

  “Like who?” Sadie asked, looking at Kyra like she was insane.

  Kyra mentally kicked herself for voicing her thoughts. “I…don’t know,” she said lamely. “Anyone who can help.”

  “Not many people care about us whores much, Supra. And no one likes questions. I doubt you’ll have much luck.”

  “The cops care,” Kyra said softly.

  Sadie’s eyes darkened.

  “I know most of you girls don’t believe that,” Kyra sighed. “But they do.”

  Sadie laughed out loud at that. “And what’re you gonna do? Go talk to a detective, all the while dodgin’ questions about what kind of work ya do and who your employer is?”

  Kyra forced herself to laugh with Sadie, though the smile felt utterly fake on her face. “I suppose not.” Her thoughts turned, once again, to Gabe Nichols. Since the night she killed Norse, she’d fought tooth and nail to avoid Gabe. The universe, it seemed, had other plans. If there was a serial killer on the loose, Kyra didn’t think he was on the cops’ radar yet. The murders themselves would be, of course, but she wondered if they’d made any connection. They hadn’t seen the john those girls were with just prior to their deaths. Kyra had.

  The cops would put it together eventually, but how many more girls would have to die first? Just as when she’d learned about the Sons of Ares planning to kill a good chunk of Abstreuse’s police force, Kyra knew if her digging confirmed what Sadie suggested, her conscience would demand she let the right people know.

  Of course, Sadie didn’t know who Kyra really was, or that she’d crossed paths with Gabe before. At the very least he was trustworthy, and wouldn’t arrest her for her participation in street activities.

  Kyra heaved a deep breath. She needed to find out more before she approached anyone. Sadie was watching her with a frown so Kyra leaned forward and took her hand again. “Let me handle this, Sadie. I need to talk to more people, but I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, don’t go out for a few days. Evidently, the streets aren’t safe for you.”

  “I have to work, Supra,” Sadie said calmly. “I have a baby to feed. And I’ll never get out of here if I don’t save enough money.”

  Kyra jiggled her foot nervously, trying to decide how to answer. “What if I helped you? Contributed to your getting-out-of-here fund?”

  Sadie’s eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed in suspicion.

  Kyra shrugged off-handedly. “I’m doing okay, now. I don’t have tons, but I could donate a little. I just want to make sure you’re around to raise Annie.”

  Sadie gave her a warm smile. “I want that, too. But I don’t want your money. At the rate I’m earnin’, I think I could leave inside a year.”

  “I’d still like to help where I can,” Kyra said. In truth, she had plenty of money. She could single-handedly get Sadie out of here and give her a job to boot. Of course it wasn’t as simple as that. Sadie had become a trusted friend, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have the Slip Mire mentality. Any hooker could talk about getting out of this life. It wouldn’t be smart to hand a prostitute a pile of cash before being certain she was serious about leaving.

  “I’ll be careful when I go out. I promise,” Sadie said. No matter what Kyra argued over the next ten minutes, Sadie wouldn’t agree to stay off the street for any period of time.

  “Fine,” Kyra said, mostly because she had no choice. “But while you’re out there, tell the other girls what you know. Tell them to be careful of a guy with long bushy hair, or one that dresses like a woman.”

  “They’ll want to know how I know,” Sadie said quietly.

  Kyra shrugged. “Tell them it’s the word on the street. That other girls and their pimps are talking about it, telling everyone to be careful. They’ll believe you, Sadie. It’s the least you can do to try and keep everyone safe.”

  After a moment, Sadie nodded. “I’ll tell ‘em.”

  They chatted for another half an hour. Then Kyra got up to leave.

  “You don’t want to crash on the couch?” Sadie asked.

  Kyra shook her head. “I have more work to do tonight.”

  “Well, if you need a place to stay, you can come back.”

  Kyra smiled. “Thanks. I’ll see where dawn finds me.” She turned to leave, then stopped. “Sadie, what did Mrs. Rosary mean about a double tragedy?”

  “She meant Mallory’s baby.”

  Kyra raised an eyebrow and for some reason, the hairs on the back of her neck stirred. “Mallory? Not Mallory Butler?”

  Sadie nodded.

  “I didn’t realize Mallory had a baby.”

  “Yeah. Six months old. Mallory’s the one who introduced me to Mrs. Rosary. Told me to use her as a sitter.”

  “So what was the tragedy?”

  “You didn’t hear ‘bout this? Oh. Mallory’s baby boy died on the same night she did.”

  Something settled heavily on Kyra’s chest. Something cold and uncomfortable. “How?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

  Sadie shrugged. “SIDS, they’re sayin’. When the cops came to tell Mrs. Rosary that Mallory was dead, she went to get the baby. He’d stopped breathin’ in his crib.”

  Minutes later, Kyra made her way down the hall toward the stairwell, feeling rattled. What were the chances a prostitute’s child would die on the same night she was murdered? There was something so twisted about it. Could somebody have…no that was ludicrous. Prostitutes were victims of opportunity, killed by psychos with sexual fetishes. But there was a connection. There had to be. For the life of her, Kyra couldn’t put her finger on what it was.<
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  Though she didn’t want to think about it yet, something told her she’d be speaking to Gabe Nichols again one way or another. With a roiling stomach, she made her way back out onto the street.

  ***

  The man with the gimp leg stepped back into the shadows, automatically slipping his hand into his pocket to palm his Roman coin. It made him feel more in control.

  The little woman with the spiky black hair had been mere feet from him. She pretended to be dark, even looked dark, but she wasn’t. Not at all. Not like the rest of the unworthy inhabitants of the Slip Mire.

  He wanted to get closer to her. He wanted to smell her scent, soak up her essence. He’d been about to approach in the darkness when that damned ginger whore had approached instead. They’d moved off together and he’d followed, straight to a run-down apartment that couldn’t have been worth the material used to build its walls. He’d bet horseflesh to whores the ginger lived there. The two women, it seemed, were friends. That alone made him want to kill the dark bitch. She might not be a night crawler herself, but to sympathize with them? Almost as bad.

  He’d nearly run into her several weeks past. She’d come out of an alley behind him. He’d continued on as though he was just another drunk Mireling. It seemed to have fooled her, but he’d been spooked by her. Her presence had radiated palpably from the alley, even after he’d passed it. She was like a shiny spot on an otherwise dull coin. It made him itch to know she walked his territory. Especially because he had no idea what she was up to.

  He meant to find out.

  The door to the garbage-strewn apartment opened and the dark-haired woman came out. Alone this time. Keeping the Roman coin in his hand, he pulled it from his pocket and slipped forward in the shadows, tailing the little dark woman at a safe distance.

  Chapter 6

  Kyra made her way toward Josie’s street near midnight on the appointed evening. Nervousness made her legs wobble. Keeping to the shadows, the gloom of the Mire and its ubiquitous red light were her only companions. That, and the ever-present chilly wind. She hadn’t noticed the wind in summer. Perhaps that’s because it was warm, and didn’t make the hot, dry days any more or less bearable. Now the icy wind, swishing through on nights when she could already see her own breath, made the temperature seem less than it was.