“Got what?”
“The number. It’s 6TYV303.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sawyer dropped Lennon off at his house and was about to drive off when Aria ran out of the garage apartment where she lived.
Sawyer rolled down the passenger window.
Aria said, “I’m going to pick us up deli sandwiches on my way over to your place, so don’t make lunch. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Sounds good,” Sawyer said. There was a lot of work to do, and she needed all the help she could get. A second later, Harper exited the house and waved a hand to stop Sawyer from driving off. “I was wondering if you guys wanted to have lunch. I’m making grilled cheese sandwiches and green salad with pears.”
“Thanks,” Sawyer said, “but we’re heading back to my place to get some work done.”
Harper looked at Aria. “You’re working on the Black Wigs story with Sawyer?”
Aria nodded. “It’s fun. All I do really is use the internet to help her search for information.”
Sawyer wondered if Harper was feeling left out. “You can join us if you’d like.”
Harper’s face reddened. “No thanks. In fact, I think you should drop the story altogether.”
Sawyer frowned. “Why?”
“Because the whole thing is getting out of hand. Copycats are coming out of the woodwork. Maybe if everyone wasn’t writing about the Black Wigs and making them into larger-than-life heroes, people would forget about them and kids would stop trying to emulate them.”
“If anything,” Aria chimed in, “Sawyer will dig deep, pull back the curtain, and find out who’s behind the Black Wigs.”
“I don’t like it.” Harper pursed her lips. “The vigilante craze has gotten way out of hand, and the press isn’t helping matters.” She gestured toward the house. “You heard Ella this morning. Your niece wants to be a part of this circus. I’m begging you to let the story go.”
Surprised by her sister’s passionate plea to let the story go, Sawyer said, “I’m not the one who makes those kinds of decisions. And even if I did, I wouldn’t back away from the story. People are tired of molesters and rapists walking free. Society should be targeting these perpetrators and holding them accountable. Instead, women are blamed for being ‘vulnerable.’ According to RAINN, the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network, out of a thousand sexual assaults, nine hundred and ninety five walk free. That’s unacceptable. People, men and women, need to be aware of what’s going on around them. So my answer is no. I will not walk away from this story. But I appreciate your concern.”
“Are you talking to victims of sexual abuse?” Harper asked.
Sawyer sighed. “Yes. Of course.”
Harper crossed her arms over her chest. “Who have you talked to?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Aria asked. “When you’re ready to tell us what you’re doing at all hours of the day and night, then maybe Sawyer will tell you more. Until that time, it’s really none of your business.”
Without another word spoken, Harper turned around and stalked back to the house.
“Wow,” Aria said after the door slammed shut. “She and Nate need to make up real quick before her head explodes.”
Sawyer nodded but didn’t say anything more. Something wasn’t right. Harper was the last person she’d ever expect to tell her to back off from a story, especially one involving sexual-abuse survivors.
Back inside the house, Harper went straight to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. With laptop in hand, she sat on the bed, her back against the headboard, and waited for the computer to boot up.
She took in more than one long breath. She needed to calm down and stop her frustrations from getting the best of her.
She logged on to the private group. Since there was no prearranged meeting, she decided to put the question out there and see if any of the other members popped in.
MALICE: I went to the warehouse to see how things were going. Eddie Carter was gone. The place smelled like bleach. What’s going on?
While she waited to see if anyone had information, she opened a new tab and checked out headline news. Right away she noticed the caption: ANOTHER BLACK WIG COPYCAT? Officers responded to a neighbor’s call that an unknown person wearing a black wig and red lipstick was seen leaving the premises of Bruce Ward, a thirty-nine-year-old highway maintenance operative who was found dead in his garage. Detectives are investigating. This is a developing story.
A heavy feeling settled in her stomach. No. Not again.
When she checked back with The Crew, there were two responses to her question.
LILY: I haven’t heard from anyone since I left the warehouse yesterday.
CLEO: I was going to take Eddie Carter to the hospital. When I cut him loose, he took off again. So I let him go. I then followed protocol from the last time we were at the warehouse and scrubbed the place clean.
LILY: What if he goes to the police?
CLEO: Before I cut his ties, he promised he wouldn’t tell a soul. Relax.
Relax? Cleo was lying. Harper was sure of it.
MALICE: I’ll check hospitals in the area and try to locate him.
CLEO: Maybe you should focus on keeping your sister out of our business and let me worry about Eddie Carter.
MALICE: Every newspaper in the county is writing about the Black Wigs. So fuck off and stay away from my sister.
CLEO: Or what will you do? Kill me with one of your long, boring lectures about violence not being the answer? You have been in denial since the beginning. This was never going to end well for any of these assholes. You need to pull your head out of the sand and wake up. Payback is a bitch.
LILY: Enough! What’s next? I want to move on and put this all behind me.
CLEO: I’m glad all of you will simply be able to move on when this is over. I don’t need any of your help. I’m done with all of you. Signing off for good. Peace out.
Harper counted to three. Her hands were shaking. Cleo had lost her mind.
MALICE: Are you still here, Lily?
LILY: I’m here. What do we do now?
MALICE: Check back in a day or two. In the meantime, I’m going to call a few hospitals to see if Eddie Carter was admitted.
LILY: Good luck. We’ll talk later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The first thing Sawyer did when she arrived back at her apartment was clear off the coffee table and boot up her laptop. Yesterday, after speaking with Nancy Lay, the woman who had been a cook at the children’s home, Aria had gone to the shelter to work, and Sawyer had spent the rest of her day getting a smog check so that she could register her car. Then she’d run to the grocery store to get cat food and a few other items.
She was eager to get back to work. With two yellow, lined notepads in front of her, she titled one in large capital letters with the word COPYCAT, and the other with the words BLACK WIGS.
To help her stay organized and keep track of all the players involved, she wrote corresponding names underneath the headers in outline form.
Beneath the Copycat header, she wrote the names Nick Calderon and Bruce Ward, along with any notes she’d taken at the scene of the crime or tidbits she’d looked up previously. She also wrote Children’s Home of Sacramento, and under that she jotted down Nancy Lay (cook), and a few other names.